Tag Spiritual warfare

STRENGTH FOR THE WEARY, THE FAINT, AND THE FORGOTTEN

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

There are seasons in the life of every believer when the soul grows tired of waiting, when the heart grows faint, and when the mind begins to wonder what God is doing behind the scenes. Scripture does not hide this reality; it speaks directly to it. The command to strengthen what remains and is about to die is not a rebuke but a rescue — a divine hand reaching into the life of the weary saint who has been faithful longer than they thought they could endure. The fainthearted are not to be shamed; they are to be encouraged. The downcast are not to be dismissed; they are to be lifted. And the struggling believer is not to be told to try harder, but to be reminded that delay is not denial — it is the testing ground of faith.

THE PRESSURE OF DELAY AND THE TEMPTATION TO COMPROMISE

When Moses ascended Mount Sinai, he remained there forty days and forty nights. During that time, the people grew restless, anxious, and uncertain. Their fear gave birth to compromise. They said, “We do not know what has become of this Moses,” and in that single sentence the human heart is exposed. When God seems distant, the giants of compromise step forward — fear, anxiety, self‑reliance, impatience, and the desire to take matters into our own hands.

Israel did not build the golden calf because they were rebellious; they built it because they were afraid. They panicked in the silence. They misinterpreted the delay. And in their fear, they squandered what God had given them.

They left Egypt with abundance. Scripture says they departed with silver, gold, and garments — the wealth of the land placed into their hands by the favor of God. Yet in the wilderness, they melted that gold into an idol that could not save. What was meant to build their future was wasted in a single moment of fear. It is a sobering reminder that what God gives for the promised land can be lost in the panic of the wilderness.

THE FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN AND THE LONGING FOR EGYPT

Israel’s desire to return to Egypt was not a longing for comfort; it was a longing for predictability. Slavery was cruel, but at least tomorrow looked familiar. Freedom was glorious, but it required trust for a tomorrow they could not see. This is the greatest challenge to faith: not hardship, but uncertainty.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)

It is the unseen part that tests us. It is the unknown that unnerves us. It is the silence that shakes us.

Jesus addressed this when He said:

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” (Matthew 6:34)

God intentionally gave Israel manna one day at a time. It was not a savings account. It was not a retirement plan. It was not security for the future. It was daily bread — enough for today, and only today.

“And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.” (1 Timothy 6:8)

Anxiety begins the moment we start looking beyond what God has given us for this day.

THE WISDOM OF ONE DAY AT A TIME

The human heart longs for certainty. We want to know that tomorrow is secure, that next week is stable, that next year is mapped out. Corporate leaders sketch five‑year plans. Financial advisors build retirement projections. But Jesus teaches us a different rhythm — a holy simplicity that refuses to borrow tomorrow’s fears.

Paul writes:

“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.” (Philippians 4:6)

The word careful means anxious, pulled apart, divided in mind. God is not asking us to ignore reality; He is asking us to refuse anxiety. He is calling us to pray instead of panic, to give thanks instead of spiraling, to trust instead of forecasting disaster.

Peter echoes this when he says:

“Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)

We cast our cares because He cares. We release our burdens because He receives them. We let go of tomorrow because He already holds it.

Jesus Himself taught us to pray:

“Give us this day our daily bread.” (Matthew 6:11)

Not weekly bread. Not monthly bread. Not a five‑year supply. Daily bread.

This was not poetic language — it was intentional formation. Jesus was teaching us to live in the same rhythm God taught Israel in the wilderness. Manna was never meant to be stored. It was never meant to be saved. It was never meant to be hoarded. It was meant to be gathered fresh every morning, reminding the people that God’s faithfulness is renewed with the dawn.

And Jesus ties this directly to anxiety when He says:

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow… Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” (Matthew 6:34)

There is wisdom in one day at a time. There is peace in one day at a time. There is provision in one day at a time. There is strength in one day at a time.

Anxiety begins the moment we try to live in days God has not given us yet. Faith begins the moment we trust Him for the day we are in.

THE DELAYED ANSWER AND THE WAR IN THE INVISIBLE REALM

The verse that ties this entire message together is found in Daniel’s prayer. When Daniel sought the Lord, the angel told him:

“From the first day that thou didst set thine heart to understand… thy words were heard… but the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me one and twenty days.” (Daniel 10:12–13)

Heaven moved the moment Daniel prayed. The answer was dispatched immediately. The delay was not denial; it was warfare. The silence was not absence; it was resistance. The struggle was not personal; it was spiritual.

This is what the weary saint must understand: your prayer was heard the first day. Your answer is already in motion. Your delay is not God ignoring you — it is the enemy resisting what God has already released.

THE CALL TO THE FAINTHEARTED: DO NOT LOSE HEART

Paul wrote:

“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” (Galatians 6:9)

Weariness is not failure; it is evidence that you have been faithful. The fainthearted are not to be warned but encouraged. The weak are not to be pushed but supported.

“Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees.” (Hebrews 12:12)

God does not despise the weary; He strengthens them. He does not shame the faint; He upholds them.

“But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Even the strong grow weary. Even the young faint. Even the gifted burn out. But the eagle does not rise by flapping harder; it rises by waiting for the wind. Waiting is not inactivity — it is alignment.

THE WORD TO THE ONE WHO IS ABOUT TO FAINT

To the saint who feels forgotten, discarded, or overlooked… to the believer who has prayed and heard nothing… to the one who has waited and seen no change… to the heart that is tired of hoping… hear this.

You are not abandoned. You are not ignored. You are not invisible. You are not failing. You are not forgotten.

Delay is not denial. Silence is not absence. Waiting is not wasting. And fainting is not falling away.

God is working in the unseen. He is fighting battles you cannot see. He is moving in ways you cannot measure. He is preparing answers you cannot imagine.

Strengthen what remains. Hold fast to what is alive. Do not throw away your confidence. Do not surrender your hope. Do not bow to the giants of compromise.

Your God is coming. Your answer is on the way. Your strength is being renewed. Your faith is being refined. Your future is being prepared.

And when the wind of God lifts you again, you will rise higher than you ever thought possible.

From Chains of Captivity to Prayers for Victory

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Letter from St. Patrick to a Nation in Need

To the people of this land, in a time of confusion and fear, from Patrick, a servant of Christ Jesus.

I was not born a saint. I was not born a hero. I was a boy who ignored the living God until chains taught me to pray. They took me from my home. They dragged me across the sea. They sold me into slavery in a land whose language I did not know. I fed animals in the cold. I slept on the ground. I feared the night. But in the fields of my captivity, the Lord had mercy on me. He opened my blind eyes. He broke my proud heart. He became my only hope.

When He delivered me, I believed the story was finished. But God does not free a man only for himself. He frees him for others. In a dream I heard the voices of the Irish calling out, “Come walk among us once more.” And the Spirit of God burned within me. The land that broke me became the land I was sent to heal.

I returned with no army, no wealth, no power—only the gospel of Jesus Christ. I walked into the halls of kings and the camps of druids. I faced curses, threats, and death. But Christ was my shield. Christ was my courage. Christ was my victory. I did not change Ireland. God did. I was only the vessel He forged in chains.

I look upon your nation now. It is anxious, divided, and wandering. It is hungry for truth. I tell you what I learned in my captivity. When a people forget God, they lose themselves. But when a people turn to Him, even the darkest land becomes a place of light.

You do not need luck. You do not need legends. You do not need the trappings of a holiday that has forgotten its own story. You need the living Christ. The same Christ met me in the fields of my slavery. He will also meet you in the wilderness of your time. The same Christ who broke my chains can break yours. The same Christ who sent me back to the land of my captors can send you. He can guide you into the broken places of your own nation.

In my day, I prayed a prayer of armor—a cry for God’s presence to surround me in a land filled with fear and darkness:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me…

This was not poetry. It was survival. It was surrender. It was the only way to stand in a world at war with truth.

And long after my bones returned to the earth, another Irish believer prayed a similar cry—a prayer you now sing as a hymn:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart…Thou my best thought, by day or by night…

BE THOU MY VISION A FITTING SONG FOR A TIME SUCH AS THIS

BE THOU MY VISION a Temple Music Production, all rights reserved

If you want to see revival during your lifetime, pray this just as I did: “Lord, be my vision.” Be my wisdom. Be my strength. Be my shield. Be my everything.”

From chains of captivity to prayers for victory—this is my testimony. Not of who I am, but of who God is.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Patrick, a slave of Christ, and a witness to His mercy.

Elam’s Shaking and the God Who Directs the Nations

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Opening Statement

The headlines are not random. They are not driven by governments. They are not controlled by human leaders. Scripture shows that God moves nations like pieces on a board. What we are seeing today is not chaos—it is alignment. Elam is shaking as Jeremiah said it would. Nations are realigning as Ezekiel said they would. God is not reacting to history. He is directing it.

The Sovereign Hand Behind the Shaking

When nations tremble, the world rushes to assign blame to leaders, policies, or political miscalculations. Yet Scripture insists that the true cause of national upheaval is not found in the halls of government. It is found in the throne room of God.

Daniel declared, “He changes times and seasons; He removes kings and sets up kings” (Daniel 2:21). Isaiah wrote that God “brings princes to nothing and makes the rulers of the earth as emptiness” (Isaiah 40:23). Proverbs reminds us that “the king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord… He turns it wherever He will” (Proverbs 21:1).

These are not poetic sentiments; they are the spiritual mechanics behind every geopolitical tremor. Nations rise because God lifts them. Nations fall because God humbles them. And when a region shakes, it is not chaos—it is choreography.

The present turmoil in the land the Bible calls Elam is not a modern accident. It is the unfolding of a prophetic pattern spoken long before the nations of today existed.

The Prophecy Spoken Over Elam

Jeremiah 49:34–39 contains a sequence that reads like a spiritual blueprint for the region:

“Thus says the Lord of hosts: Behold, I will break the bow of Elam, the mainstay of their might” (Jeremiah 49:35).

The “bow” symbolized military strength, national pride, and the ability to project power. When God breaks a nation’s bow, He breaks its confidence. Many who lived through the rise of a dark ideology in that region testify that the breaking began decades ago. It did not start with the fall of rulers. It began with the breaking of the people’s will to endure oppression. They fled. They scattered. They carried their grief into the nations.

Jeremiah continues:

“I will bring upon Elam the four winds from the four quarters of heaven, and I will scatter them to all those winds” (Jeremiah 49:36).

This is more than metaphor; it describes diaspora. It is the story of families who fled violence and deception. It is the story of a people who became exiles in every direction. And it is the story of a remnant who never stopped praying for the day when the darkness would crack.

The Diaspora Rejoices Before the Land Does

Jeremiah’s prophecy gives unusual attention to the scattered ones. They are the first to sense the shift. They are the first to rejoice. They are the first to see the collapse of the old order.

This is the biblical pattern. When Babylon fell, the exiles rejoiced before Jerusalem was rebuilt. When persecution scattered the early church, revival began in the diaspora before it returned to Judea.

Jeremiah echoes this pattern:

“I will terrify Elam before their enemies… and I will send the sword after them until I have consumed them” (Jeremiah 49:37).

Fear, instability, and internal collapse strike the land, but the scattered remnant sees hope rising. Today, Iranians across the world—those who fled the cruelty of an oppressive system—are celebrating the weakening of the old structures. Their joy is not political. It is spiritual. It is the relief of a people who have waited in exile for the day when the night would break.

The Collapse of the Old Order

Jeremiah’s prophecy moves next to the downfall of leadership:

“I will set My throne in Elam and destroy from there king and princes, declares the Lord” (Jeremiah 49:38).

This is not about individuals. It is about systems. It is about spiritual strongholds. It is about the collapse of an order built on deception, violence, and pride.

Scripture consistently shows that when rulers exalt themselves, God brings them low. Nebuchadnezzar learned an important lesson. God declared to him, “The Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom He will” (Daniel 4:32). God spoke to Pharaoh directly. He told him, “For this purpose I have raised you up, to show you My power” (Exodus 9:16). Every proud empire eventually learns it.

The present instability in Elam’s region is not random. It is the shaking of an order God has judged. Nations surrounding the region are no longer intimidated; they are alarmed, unified, and increasingly resistant. This is exactly how Jeremiah described the unraveling: a nation whose aggression provokes opposition on every side.

God Establishes His Throne in Elam

The most astonishing line in Jeremiah’s prophecy is not the judgment—it is the promise:

“I will set My throne in Elam.”

God does not say this about many places. This is not political language. It is spiritual language. It means:

  • A divine visitation
  • A spiritual awakening
  • A remnant rising
  • A new identity forming
  • A region once dark becoming a place of light

Even now, the underground church in that region is growing. Even now, the scattered remnant is awakening. Even now, the spiritual atmosphere is shifting. The throne of God is not a palace. It is a people. And God is establishing His rule in the hearts of those who once fled in sorrow.

The Restoration of Elam

Jeremiah concludes with hope:

“But in the latter days I will restore the fortunes of Elam, declares the Lord” (Jeremiah 49:39).

Restoration does not require a new government. It requires a new spiritual center. Restoration does not begin with borders. It begins with hearts. Restoration does not wait for political stability. It begins when God’s throne is established among a remnant.

This restoration may come sooner than many expect. Not decades. Not generations. But in a season of divine acceleration. The scattered ones are already rejoicing. The old order is already shaking. The spiritual soil is already softening.

The Realignment of Nations

While Elam experiences breaking and restoration, the broader region historically known as Persia moves toward the alignment Ezekiel described. Scripture often speaks of the same land under different names in different prophetic contexts. Thus it is with Elam, which was part of the larger area known as Persia.

Ezekiel 38 names Persia as part of a future coalition:

“Persia, Cush, and Put are with them” (Ezekiel 38:5).

This is not contradiction. It is two layers of prophecy unfolding at once:

  • Elam — breaking, scattering, collapse, restoration
  • Persia — alignment, coalition, confrontation, divine intervention

The present moment is the Elam moment. The future moment will be the Persia moment.

Nations are sorting themselves into patterns Scripture already revealed. Some toward hostility. Some toward blessing. Some toward restoration. God is moving the pieces. The board is His. The timing is His. The outcome is His.

The Watchman’s Charge

A watchman does not interpret events through politics. A watchman interprets events through Scripture. The message is simple:

  • God is shaking Elam.
  • God is restoring a remnant.
  • God is collapsing an old order.
  • God is realigning nations.
  • God is preparing the stage for what Ezekiel saw.
  • God is sovereign over every headline.

The nations are not in control. The governments are not in control. The alliances are not in control.

The headlines will change; alliances will shift. But the Lord reigns. The Lord directs. The Lord restores.

When a Nation Resists Its Own Healing

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

As America enters Her 250th year of existence, let’s take a moment to pause. We should think about the State of the Union before the President’s address to the Nation in a few days.

There are seasons in a nation’s life. The symptoms of decay rise so clearly to the surface. Even the untrained eye can see them. Corruption becomes normalized. Dishonesty becomes expected. Debt becomes a way of life. Institutions become self-preserving rather than people-serving. Truth becomes inconvenient, and justice becomes negotiable. These are not modern problems. They are ancient ones. Solomon captured it with piercing simplicity when he wrote, “There is nothing new under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

What once was will be again, because human nature has not changed. And the spiritual laws that govern nations have not changed either. If we want to understand the moment we are living in, we must return to the Scriptures. We should not seek political commentary there. Instead, we should aim to find spiritual diagnosis.

The story of Jehoshaphat flows directly from the covenant promise of 2 Chronicles 7:14. It provides a lens to see our own national condition with clarity and sobriety.

The Symptoms of a Nation in Decline

Before Jehoshaphat ever stepped into leadership, Judah was already sick. The symptoms were visible everywhere. Judges accepted bribes. Leaders protected their own interests rather than the people’s. Alliances were forged out of fear rather than faith. The culture tolerated dishonesty because it had grown accustomed to it. The system rewarded corruption because corruption had become the system.

Scripture describes this kind of national decay with painful accuracy:

“Your princes are rebels and companions of thieves. Everyone loves a bribe and runs after gifts; they do not bring justice to the fatherless, and the widow’s cause does not come to them.” (Isaiah 1:23)

A nation does not collapse because of one leader. A nation collapses because of a culture that prefers darkness to light.

Jesus said, “People loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.” (John 3:19) When darkness becomes comfortable, truth becomes offensive.

The System Beneath the Symptoms

Corruption is never random. It is architectural. It is built into the bones of a nation when righteousness is neglected. By the time Jehoshaphat arrived, Judah’s institutions had become self-protecting organisms. They rewarded partiality, concealed dishonesty, and punished anyone who threatened the status quo.

This is the same pattern the prophets confronted:

“Shall I acquit the man with wicked scales and with a bag of deceitful weights?” (Micah 6:11)

“Hear this, you who trample the needy… saying, ‘When will the new moon be over, that we may sell grain… making the ephah small and the shekel great and dealing deceitfully with false balances?’” (Amos 8:4–5)

When a system becomes corrupt, it does not merely harm the weak. It eventually devours the very people who built it.

God Sends a Reformer, Not a Committee

Into this environment, God raised up Jehoshaphat—not as a politician, not as a celebrity, but as a reformer. His assignment was not to preserve the system but to purify it. He appointed honest judges, confronted corruption, restored accountability, and called the nation back to God.

Scripture records his charge to the judges:

“Consider what you do, for you judge not for man but for the LORD. He is with you in giving judgment.” (2 Chronicles 19:6)

Jehoshaphat understood something many forget: Reform is not a political act. Reform is a spiritual intervention.

The Resistance to Reform

But not everyone welcomed the light. Those who benefited from the corruption resisted the reform. Those who prospered under dishonesty opposed accountability. Those who feared losing influence fought the very changes that would have healed the nation.

This is the tragedy of every generation. People cry out for healing. However, when God sends the healer, they resist Him.

Jesus lamented this same pattern:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem… how often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Matthew 23:37)

A nation cannot be healed if it refuses the hand that heals it.

Miriam’s Warning: Do Not Resist the Vessel God Chooses

Miriam’s story stands as a sobering warning. She did not reject God. She rejected the vessel God chose. She questioned Moses’ authority, challenged his assignment, and believed she had equal standing in the mission. But God responded swiftly:

“Why then were you not afraid to speak against My servant Moses?” (Numbers 12:8)

Her leprosy was not punishment. It was revelation—a visible picture of an invisible rebellion.

When you resist the person God selects to bring deliverance, you are not fighting a man. You are fighting God. And when you fight God, you bring judgment upon your own head.

The Consequence of National Resistance

Jehoshaphat’s reforms were a mercy—a chance for Judah to return to righteousness before judgment fell. But Scripture is clear: when a nation refuses to repent, refuses to humble itself, refuses to turn, judgment becomes inevitable.

Not because God desires destruction, but because corruption collapses under its own weight.

“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” (Proverbs 16:18)

“Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.” (Proverbs 14:34)

A nation that resists reform is a nation choosing its own ruin.

The Cure That Flows From the Throne

The remedy for national decay has never been political. It has always been spiritual. God told Solomon exactly how a nation is healed:

“If My people, who are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14)

Healing begins with humility. Restoration begins with repentance. Deliverance begins with alignment.

And God’s healing always flows through human instruments. He raises a Moses, a Samuel, a Jehoshaphat, a Nehemiah—and when the people resist the vessel, they resist the healing.

A Prayer for a Nation in Need of Mercy

Father, we humble ourselves before You. We confess our national pride, our corruption, our injustice, and our dishonesty. We acknowledge that we have often resisted the very instruments You sent to heal us. We have misread our moment and preferred comfort over correction.

But today we turn. We seek Your face. We bow our hearts. We repent of our wicked ways. Hear from heaven, O Lord. Forgive our sin. Heal our land.

Raise up reformers in our generation. Give us discernment to recognize Your movement. Give us courage to align with Your purposes. And give us humility to follow the vessels You have chosen.

Heal our land, O God—not by might, nor by power, but by Your Spirit. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

A WARNING AGAINST APOSTASY

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

When Barley and Hops Replace the Holy Spirit: A Living Parable of Apostasy

“For if, after they have escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overcome, the last state has become worse for them than the first. For it would have been better for them never to have known the way of righteousness than after knowing it to turn back from the holy commandment delivered to them.” – 2 Peter 2:20-21

In Pittsburgh’s Lawrenceville neighborhood stands a prophetic warning made of brick and mortar: The Church Brew Works. What was once St. John the Baptist Roman Catholic Church was built in 1902. It served immigrant souls seeking God in a new land. Now, it serves Pious Monk Dunkel where prayers once rose like incense. This isn’t just adaptive reuse. It’s a living parable of what happens when vessels swept clean by the blood of the Lamb evict their Lord.

Consider the spiritual progression: A sinner encounters Christ. The blood washes them clean—REDEEMED. The Holy Spirit takes residence. But then comes the fatal choice: rejecting His Lordship for programs over presence, relevance over reverence. In that willful vacancy, seven worse spirits rush in.

St. John the Baptist Church knew this progression intimately. For 91 years, the Eucharist transformed bread and wine into holy mystery. Immigrants found more than community—they found Christ. But as industry fled Pittsburgh and congregations dwindled, the church chose survival over Spirit. In 1993, the Diocese officially deconsecrated the building. Three years later, copper brewing tanks stand precisely where the altar once stood.

The sobering truth: This “resurrected” space serves 300% more bodies daily than it ever did as a church. But which spirits are they serving? The brewery offers “Celestial Gold” and “Pipe Organ Pale Ale”—mocking the sacred with clever marketing. They’ve literally replaced the Holy Spirit with distilled spirits, the blood of the covenant with barley and hops.

Jesus warned us precisely about this in Matthew 12:43-45: “When an unclean spirit goes out of a man, he goes through dry places, seeking rest, and finds none. Then he says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when he comes, he finds it empty, swept, and put in order. Then he goes and takes with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first.”

But Peter’s warning cuts deeper—this isn’t about never knowing Christ. These churches KNEW Him. They were washed in His blood, filled with His Spirit, entrusted with His mysteries. Their apostasy is infinitely worse than ignorance. As Peter declares, better to have never known the way of righteousness than to turn back from the holy commandment.

Some will argue this church merely traded one form of spiritual emptiness for another—replacing religious ritual with recreational ritual. But even symbolic faith is closer to truth than celebrating its absence. When any church—Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox—that once invoked Christ’s name now invokes ‘Celestial Gold’ lager, it strays far from its original purpose. When any altar becomes a brewery, it loses its sanctity. When any sanctuary chooses mammon over even the memory of the sacred, the last state is worse than the first. The building that once reached toward heaven, however imperfectly, now celebrates its earth-bound stupor.

The building remembers its redemption while hosting its own possession. The stained glass still filters light, but onto patrons seeking buzz instead of blessing. The remnant sees this for what it is: not progress but prophecy fulfilled. When institutions that once housed the Holy Spirit choose barley and hops instead, they don’t become neutral spaces—they become anti-sanctuaries.

This is the sober warning to every congregation: Which spirits are you choosing to serve? The Holy Spirit still seeks vessels who won’t trade His presence for the world’s applause. But once you’ve known His glory and chosen vacancy instead, the last state is indeed worse than the first. The Church Brew Works stands as testimony—where the Blood once redeemed, blood alcohol content now rules. Let those with eyes to see, see. Let those with ears to hear, hear.

This has been “A View From the Nest” and that is the way I see it! What say you?