Tag faith renewal

TAKING OUT THE TRASH: WHEN GOD CALLS YOU TO REMOVE WHAT NO LONGER BELONGS

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

There comes a moment in every believer’s life when God stops rearranging the furniture and starts pointing to the trash can. It is the moment when He says, “This must go.” Not because He is cruel, but because He is holy. Not because He wants to deprive you, but because He wants to prepare you. And nothing reveals the state of a heart or a house like the willingness to take out the trash.

The Scriptures are clear: before God builds, He clears. Before He fills, He empties. Before He sends, He strips. Before He promotes, He purges. Every major move of God begins with removal.

THE GOD WHO CLEARS BEFORE HE FILLS

When Jacob prepared his household to return to Bethel, he did not begin with worship. He began with a trash run. Scripture says, “And they gave unto Jacob all the foreign gods which were in their hand, and the rings which were in their ears; and Jacob hid them under the oak which was by Shechem.” (Genesis 35:4). The idols were not merely set aside; they were buried. They were not stored for later; they were removed permanently.

When Hezekiah restored the temple, the first command was not to sing, sacrifice, or celebrate. It was to clean. Scripture records, “And the priests went into the inner part of the house of Jehovah, to cleanse it… and they brought out all the uncleanness that they found in the temple of Jehovah.” (2 Chronicles 29:16). Revival did not begin with music. It began with a trash pile.

Even Jesus Himself began His ministry in Jerusalem by cleansing the temple. “And he made a scourge of cords, and cast all out of the temple… and he poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew their tables.” (John 2:15). Before He taught, He removed. Before He healed, He overturned. Before He revealed His glory, He took out the trash.

God has always been a God of separation before He is a God of elevation.

WHEN TREASURE BECOMES TRASH

The difficulty for most believers is not identifying evil. It is identifying what has become expired. Trash is not always wicked. Sometimes it is simply out of season.

A relationship that once supported you can become a weight. A habit that once protected you can become a prison. A mindset that once made sense can become a limitation. An assignment that once was God‑given can become God‑replaced.

The tragedy is that many believers cling to yesterday’s treasures long after God has declared them today’s trash. What Jacob’s household considered sentimental, God considered idolatrous. What the temple priests tolerated as normal, God called unclean. What the money changers saw as ministry, Jesus saw as obstruction.

When God says, “Bury it,” He is not asking for negotiation. He is asking for obedience.

THE COST OF KEEPING WHAT GOD TOLD YOU TO REMOVE

Trash left too long does not stay neutral. It transforms. It decays. It spreads. It affects the entire environment.

Trash begins to stink.

What was once tolerable becomes toxic. What once blended in becomes unbearable.

Trash attracts pests.

Flies, maggots, and rodents gather where decay is allowed to remain. The spiritual equivalents are bitterness, compromise, and confusion.

Trash takes up space.

You cannot receive the new when the old is still occupying the room. God will not pour fresh oil into a vessel filled with yesterday’s residue.

Trash becomes part of the atmosphere.

The most dangerous thing about trash is not the smell—it is the ability to get used to the smell. A believer can become so accustomed to clutter that they no longer recognize the stench.

This is why God insists on removal. He is not trying to deprive you. He is trying to deliver you.

THE CHURCH AND THE TRASH IT REFUSES TO REMOVE

This message is not only personal; it is corporate. The modern church has accumulated trash in the form of traditions, programs, compromises, and cultural concessions that God never asked for. Jesus did not cleanse the temple because it was inactive. He cleansed it because it was misaligned.

The church today must confront the same reality. There are things we have kept because they are familiar, not because they are faithful. There are practices we defend because they are comfortable, not because they are biblical. There are ideas we tolerate because they are popular, not because they are pure.

God is calling His people to take out the trash so His presence can return in fullness.

THE CALL TO ACTION: WHAT GOD CALLS YOU TO BURY, YOU CANNOT AFFORD TO KEEP

Every trash day has two steps: identify what must go, and remove it. Not talk about it. Not pray about it. Not journal about it. Not negotiate with it. Remove it.

The apostle Paul captured this urgency when he wrote, “Let us cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God.” (2 Corinthians 7:1). Cleansing is not passive. It is intentional. It is decisive. It is obedient.

You cannot step into a new season carrying the trash of the old one. You cannot walk in new identity while dragging old debris. You cannot embrace God’s future while clutching yesterday’s clutter.

When God points to the trash can, He is pointing to your next level.

CONCLUSION: THE HOLY WORK OF REMOVAL

Taking out the trash is not glamorous. It is not celebrated. It is not applauded. But it is holy. It is necessary. It is the doorway to transformation. Before God builds, He clears. Before He fills, He empties. Before He sends, He strips. Before He promotes, He purges.

And when you obey, the atmosphere shifts. The house breathes again. The heart becomes light again. The Spirit moves freely again. And the presence of God fills the space that clutter once occupied.

What God calls you to bury, you cannot afford to keep.

The Diaper, The Drapes, and The Temple

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
WHY COSMETIC CHRISTIANITY CANNOT PRODUCE SPIRITUAL MATURITY

The Nature Problem Beneath the Diaper

There comes a moment when God refuses to indulge surface‑level solutions. There comes a moment when He stops blessing the diaper change, the drape change, the pastor change, or the program change. There comes a moment when He exposes the truth that the problem is not the diaper, not the drapes, not the leadership, not the music, not the branding, and not the building. The problem is the nature. And until the nature changes, nothing else will.

Every parent understands this instinctively. You can change a diaper, but you cannot change the baby’s nature by changing the diaper. The diaper is not the issue. The mess is not the issue. The nature is the issue. And until the nature changes, the cycle continues. Paul confronted this same reality when he wrote, “I… could not speak to you as spiritual people, but as to babes in Christ… for you are still carnal.” [1 Corinthians 3:1–3] Babies do what babies do. Immature believers do what immature believers do. Churches that refuse to grow up do what churches that refuse to grow up do. Changing the diaper does not change the nature, and changing the pastor does not change the congregation.

Decrease Before Increase

John the Baptist understood this when he declared, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” [John 3:30] Decrease is not cosmetic. Decrease is not decorative. Decrease is demolition. Something must die for Christ to rise. But churchianity wants increase without decrease, maturity without surrender, growth without breaking, and new wine without new wineskins. Jesus made it clear that this is impossible when He said, “No one puts new wine into old wineskins… the wineskins burst.” [Mark 2:22] The wineskin must change. The nature must change. The structure must change. Otherwise, the mess continues.

Drapes Cannot Fix a Cracked House

This is why changing the drapes never fixes the house. Drapes are safe. Drapes are pretty. Drapes make the room look refreshed without touching the foundation. But drapes do not repair cracked walls, rotting beams, or sinking footers. Drapes only hide what the light would expose. Jesus confronted this exact spirit when He declared, “You are like whitened sepulchers, which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but within are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.” [Matthew 23:27] That is not gentle language. That is not soft correction. That is not a suggestion. That is a verdict.

Churchianity loves the outside of the tomb. Churchianity loves the drapes. Churchianity loves the appearance of renewal without the cost of repentance. But drapes block the sunlight, hide the flaws, and create the illusion of change without the reality of transformation.

Hard Ground Cannot Receive Seed

Yet even this does not reach the root of the issue. The deeper problem is that churchianity has become hard ground. God spoke through Hosea saying, “Break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the Lord.” [Hosea 10:12] Fallow ground is unbroken ground. It is rigid, resistant, and unresponsive. You cannot plant new seed in hard soil. You cannot expect harvest from ground that refuses to be torn open.

This is the tragedy of churchianity: it keeps changing pastors, but it never breaks the ground. Unless a pastor carries a strong prophetic anointing capable of breaking through the hardness of hearts, nothing changes. The soil remains untouched, and untouched soil cannot receive seed.

Jesus explained this plainly in the parable of the sower. Some seed falls by the wayside, and “the birds came and devoured them.” [Matthew 13:4] Some falls on rocky ground where it cannot take root. Some falls among thorns that choke it. Only the seed that falls into good soil produces fruit. Churchianity has become the wayside, the rocky ground, and the thorn patch. It has become rigid, resistant, and immovable. The Spirit tries to move, and churchianity quenches Him.

The Temple Was Not Meant to Be Cleaned—It Was Meant to Fall

This is why Jesus did not come to clean the Temple. He did not come to update the Temple. He did not come to modernize the Temple. He came to end it. When He said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up,” [John 2:19], He was not speaking of renovation. He was speaking of replacement.

The Temple represented a system of access, a system of hierarchy, a system of sacrifice, and a system of separation. Jesus came to fulfill it, finish it, and replace it with Himself. The Temple had to fall because the system could not be cleaned — it had to be crucified.

Likewise, the modern church cannot be revived by cosmetic changes. It cannot be renewed by diaper changes. It cannot be transformed by drapes. It cannot be awakened by leadership swaps. It must be broken. It must be decreased. It must be torn down to the studs so Christ can be built up. Ecclesiastes declares, “A time to break down, and a time to build up.” [Ecclesiastes 3:3] Break down comes first. Build up comes second. This is the order of God.

Old Wineskins Cannot Hold New Wine

Jesus did not say, “Patch the wineskin.” He did not say, “Polish the wineskin.” He did not say, “Rebrand the wineskin.” He said the wineskin must be new. New wine expands, stretches, and transforms. Old wineskins resist, crack, and burst. Churchianity keeps trying to pour revival into rigid structures, to pour Christ into systems that refuse to decrease, and to pour new wine into old wineskins. And then it wonders why everything bursts.

Christ-Adjacent Christianity Cannot Be Transformed

This message is not for the Body of Christ. The Body hears and responds. The Body grows and matures. The Body decreases so Christ increases. This message is for the Christ‑adjacent — those close enough to see Him, not close enough to touch Him, and too far away to be touched by Him.

These are the ones who love the drapes, not the demolition; the diaper change, not the nature change; the Temple, not the tearing down; the wineskin, not the wine; the hard ground, not the breaking. They want Christ added, not Christ enthroned. They want Christ referenced, not Christ obeyed. They want Christ near, not Christ in them.

The Final Word: Break, Decrease, Surrender

Here is the truth at the center of all of this: Christ cannot increase where the old refuses to decrease. Christ cannot rise where the structure refuses to fall. Christ cannot fill what refuses to be emptied. Christ cannot plant where the ground refuses to break.

You can change the diaper, but unless the nature changes, the mess continues. You can change the drapes, but unless the structure changes, the cracks remain. You can change the pastor, but unless the people change, the church remains infantile. You can scatter seed, but unless the soil is broken, nothing grows.

There is a time to tear down. There is a time to uproot. There is a time to break the wineskin. There is a time to destroy the Temple. There is a time to plow the ground. And that time is now.

This has been a View From the Nest. And that is the way I see it. What say you?
If this message has blessed you feel free to comment, like and share, and subscribe to our newsletter. Until next time. Eagle out!

Let the People Tremble

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

The Earth Shook, but Heaven Has Been Shaking Longer

Pennsylvania felt a tremor, a brief and passing shiver beneath the soil, the kind of seismic murmur that registers more clearly on an instrument than in the human body. Most residents went about their day without noticing anything unusual, while a few paused long enough to wonder whether something had brushed the edge of their awareness. Yet even as the ground settled back into silence, a deeper and more consequential shaking continued—one not measured in magnitudes or plotted on geological maps, but discerned in the spiritual atmosphere of a people who have grown accustomed to stillness.

The LORD reigneth; let the people tremble. (Psalm 99:1)

The trembling Scripture speaks of is not the panic of those who fear collapse, but the awakening of those who suddenly realize that God is moving in ways they can no longer ignore. The earth may tremble for a moment, but heaven has been shaking the church for far longer, calling God’s people to recognize that the true disturbance is not beneath their feet but within their souls.

A Mild Earthquake Is a Warning, Not a Catastrophe

A minor quake does not topple buildings or send cities into chaos. Instead, it exposes the quiet truth that the ground we trust is not as immovable as we assume. It interrupts the rhythm of ordinary life just long enough to remind us that stability is never guaranteed by the earth itself. In the same way, the shaking within the Body of Christ is not meant to destroy but to awaken. God is not judging His people with devastation; He is correcting them with disruption. He is loosening the grip of comforts that have become idols and dismantling routines that have replaced relationship.

Yet once more I shake not the earth only, but also heaven… that those things which cannot be shaken may remain. (Hebrews 12:26–27)

This divine shaking is not punitive. It is purifying. God removes what is temporary so that what is eternal may stand unobscured. He shakes the structures we have built on sand so that we might rediscover the Rock beneath our feet. He shakes our complacency so that prayer might rise again. He shakes our illusions so that truth may shine without distortion. He shakes our idols so that worship may return to its rightful center.

The Church Has Felt the Tremors, but Has It Woken Up?

When the earth trembles, even slightly, people talk about it. They compare experiences, check news reports, and wonder aloud what it might mean. Yet when God shakes His people, the response is often muted. We explain it away as cultural turbulence or personal inconvenience. We assume things will settle down soon, as though settling down were the goal of the Christian life. But the early church understood the purpose of shaking far better than we do.

And when they had prayed, the place was shaken; and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they spake the word of God with boldness. (Acts 4:31)

The shaking was not the event. It was the announcement. It signaled that God was present, active, and unwilling to let His people remain unchanged. The trembling of the room was merely the outward sign of the inward transformation that followed. The question for today’s church is not whether God is shaking us, but whether we are responding with the same urgency and surrender.

If a 2.1 Gets Our Attention, What Will It Take for God’s People to Wake Up?

This question lingers like a prophetic echo. If the ground can tremble and we notice, why do we ignore the trembling in our spirits? If the earth can shift and we discuss it, why do we remain silent when God shifts the atmosphere around us? The shaking of the land is a footnote; the shaking of the church is the headline. God is calling His people to tremble again—not in fear of destruction, but in reverence for His holiness, in repentance for their drift, and in devotion to His reign.

The LORD also shall roar out of Zion… and the heavens and the earth shall shake. (Joel 3:16)

The roar of God is not meant to terrify His children but to awaken them. The trembling of the people is the sign that the reign of the Lord is being taken seriously again. This is not a suggestion. It is a summons.

The Shaking Is Not the End. It Is the Invitation.

The tremors that brushed Pennsylvania will fade from memory. The news cycle will move on. The charts will reset. But the shaking in the Spirit will continue until the church stands firmly on the only foundation that cannot be moved. God is not shaking the earth to frighten us; He is shaking His people to awaken them. He is calling His church to recognize that the true quake is not geological but spiritual, and the true danger is not the trembling of the ground but the stillness of a sleeping people.

Let the people tremble. Let the church awaken. Let the shaking accomplish its holy purpose.