Like Father-Like Son: Friend or Foe?

Who do you and I emulate?  Who do we act like or follow after?  Are you your own, self-made man?  

As a woman, do you respect and love the word “Father,” or does it bring back haunting memories of your childhood? 

Are we self-made, or Christ-made? 

If we all need a friend, then we must try to be a friend first to someone.  

Who is the someone? 

1st Corinthians 15: 33…

“Do not be deceived:  Evil company corrupts good habits.”

 Obviously, we need to be cautious in who we hang out with and allow to influence us.  

I know from experience.

We can become like those we spend time with.  

Word of wisdom for some of us today. 

 

All you have to do is ask any high school student about their peer group, and you will find out quickly who is who, and what each one believes.  

Mostly, all will agree that they like the same music, and hang out in the same places.  

It is either a den in one of their homes, or a den of iniquity.  

Not much middle ground here when it comes to influences from so- called friends. 

 

If this scripture is true, and it is, then our company we keep can corrupt what is good in us.  

 

The Bible says, “turn away from them.”  

In other words, run for your life, as if it depended on you failing or succeeding in life’s endeavors. 

Jesus Christ needs to be your best friend. 

Corrupt is defined as: broken, illegal, selfish, and self-less.  

Degenerate, nefarious, vicious, and villainous.  

I like the word “iniquitous” because it implies absence of all signs of justice or fairness. 

By us spending time with those who are tearing us down, not building us up, we are tainted.  

Little by little the poison of corruptions bleeds into our souls.  

The grip on our “right” beliefs (Godly ones) inevitably fade over time.  This decay of one’s moral convictions cannot keep us from disaster.  

Do not be misled.  

We are not teenagers any longer.  It is time to grow up and get up off our pity parties; it’s time to stop using the blame game for an excuse for our self-inflicted, moral wounds.  

 

As has been stated in previous stories, the wounds we create are the hardest to heal.  

Why?  

 

Because we did it to ourselves.  

No one to blame there.  

It is called moral and ethical suicide by hanging.  We put the spiritual rope around our own necks.  

Can’t jump off the chair with our spiritual hands tied behind our back and avoid that death in our hearts. 

 

Proverbs 27: 17-19…

“As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend.  Whoever keeps, and nurtures the fig tree, will eat its fruit; So, he who waits on his master will be honored.  As in water, face reflects face, so a man’s heart reveals the man.”

All you and I must do is look into a real mirror at home.  

What do we really see?  

I am talking about beyond the shaved face men.  

I am referring Ladies, beyond the eye liner.

 

What does your heart scream as you investigate its ventricles of venom that exist from the rattlesnake of regrets?  

The disease of brokenness and heartache can only be rendered by Jesus as we “rend our hearts, not our garments.” (Joel 2:13).

I see it all the time in over 40 years of prison ministry.  

A young 20-year-old inmate is in one unit, while his father is doing time in another unit.

Primarily in Texas, but I see it in every place I have preached in America.  Even overseas. 

An uncle, a cousin, and a brother are in prison at the exact same time as the young man.  

Why?  

Because, in part, it is the father who gave his ungodly attributes and teachings to his son.  

“Like Father, like Son.”  

The son repeated what he learned from his Daddy.  

He knew better when he came to the age of accountability.  

But it was engrained in him early on. 

 

In prison, like in the free world, we learn to hide behind a mask of insecurity.  

Our true identity is hidden away, and our souls become different.  

The picture on our spiritual driver's license, has someone else's face there.  

We have become a pretender.  

Not wanting to, but it is in our DNA. 

We are not who we say we are.  

Our lives do not match what is on the inside of our hearts.  

 

What mask do you wear today when you try to hide all your junk in your spiritual trunk? 

Are you hiding behind the façade of being a friend who is fake?  

Are you emotionally divorced from your family for whatever reason, or reasons? 

 

We can’t build better and stronger friendships if we can’t identify with the reasons why we wear masks.  

This is also like the game of “hide and go seek.” 

“Come out, come out, from wherever you are.” 

 

Where are you spiritually, really?

 When the lights go out at night, (unless you are in jail or prison reading this, they never fully go out) what do you see in the dark? 

Idioms:

“A friend in need, is a friend indeed.”

“Two peas in a pod.”  

“Birds of a feather, flock together.”

“A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out!” 

 

At the end of your life, if you and I have enough true friends we can count on one hand, we are blessed.   

 

Five things to ponder. 

One, your best friend should be Jesus, if you know Him personally.  

Develop this love relationship the best you can over time.  

It will last forever, so be diligent and work out your Salvation daily. 

 

Two, your spouse if you are married.  

If you got married and you were friends back then, this friendship should grow stronger, not weaker. 

 

Three, Children will always be your children.  

However, your responsibility to raise them and train them began and was partially completed once they left the nest.

We will support, love, and guide them as best we can.  It is still up to them to grow up and mature in the Lord. 

 

Four, your adult children will always be your children, and in a healthy way, they can be called friends too.  

Only in the context of relationships with the Lord.  Like Father like Son. 

 

Five:  “NON- family” friends, is self-explanatory.

  

Control your time, (men especially) that you spend with all your buddies.  

Do not neglect the weightier matters of home, wife, children, or even the stepchildren.  

If you are single, spend time with Jesus more than you spend time playing golf, or hanging out killing time.  

Time is too precious to waste.   

 

Women, if shopping and going to the salon with your girlfriends becomes an addiction, perhaps you should wonder why you are away so much.  

Is it because you want to be away from “him” because you would rather be comforted by your peers, rather than avoid the arguments waiting for you at home?  

 

Just a thought.  If that does not apply, hit delete. 

 

Soloman points out the value of a true friend and brother.  

He says that a true friend is always loving, and a brother helps in trying times.  

True love stands in unfavorable circumstances.  (Proverbs 17: 17). 

 

Paul was Saul until his “road to Damascus experience.” 

Blindness for a few days was good for Saul.  The blindness left once he became Paul the Apostle.  He was a Christian killer before God knocked him off his horse.  

He was a persecutor of Christians, but ended up a preacher. 

He was a true friend to all who read his letters he wrote from prison.  All the churches, and to Timothy, a young pastor.  

Paul was an example of a true friend.  

A friend in need is a friend indeed. 

Paul taught this young pastor Timothy the ways of Jesus.  

He saw the big picture beyond his incarceration.  

Philippians 2:17 proves this.  

“But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service of your faith; I am glad and rejoice with you all.”

 

Paul celebrated his friends but kept his eye on His best friend.  Jesus.

 

Philippians 2: 19-24 (read it when you can) describes Paul, being like a Father Figure to Timothy saying that even though he could not come to him shortly, he was contented NOT in Timothy (understanding his absence), but in His Christ!  

PRIORITY. 

 

I will end with this. 

Acts 14: 19-21…

“Then the Jews from Antioch and Iconium, came there; and having persuaded the multitudes, they stoned Paul-dragged him out of the city, supposing him to be dead.  However, when the disciples gathered around him, he rose up and went into the city.  (hit with rocks till half dead) And the next day, he departed with Barnabas to Derbe.  And when they had preached the Gospel to that city and made many disciples, they returned to Lystra. “ 

(That is a bunch of walking with broken bones and bruises).

He went to Iconium and Antioch too.  

Paul was able to preach the day after being stoned, almost to death. 

 

What are our excuses for not doing God’s Will today?  

Sinus headache?  Bad news from home? 

 

Situations and trials do come.  It is what we do while in these trials that matter.  

Either get up or lie down. 

In 2 Timothy 4: 17…

“But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that the message might be preached fully through me and that all the Gentiles might hear.” 

It is no wonder there are not many fathers in this generation in 2025.  

Yes, there are thousands of Godly men doing God’s will.  

I am talking about the limp-wristed, time wasting, excuse making men who call themselves men.  

It is no wonder so many young men end up in prison that I preach to.  

 

I have surveyed and even asked this question many times to the congregations in prison. 

 

“How many are here who never knew your biological father?” 

 

Sixty percent, and many times more, raise their hands.  

Like Father, like Son.  

In this case, I plead not. 

Not guilty.  

 

Because what is a young boy to do?  

If he has no father, where are the pastors, and men in the church to help nurture them?

 Either nurture or ignore the little tykes.  

Teenage boys, without a Father Figure, are not tykes.   

They are vulnerable to sin, without a Godly example.  

Moms can only be Moms.  

They do fill that void, to a degree, and it is admirable for them to try.  

God did not want them to carry the burden of being both parents to their children.  

Many mothers should be honored more than just on Mother’s Day.  

Every day to them, without the man side of life, have heavy bricks upon their spiritual shoulders.  Often working two jobs to make ends meet.  

Bless them for all their efforts. 

 

I am not speaking to those who do not want a man in their lives because they have been burned up in the wake of the forest fire of divorce or abandonment.  

Man-abuse plays a big part too in being alone for them.  Single moms are to be treasured, not ignored. 

 

“Daddies, where art thou?” 

If the cycle of “Like Father, Like Son” is to be changed for the good, then it takes a revelation.  

Not a village raising your children. 

 

It takes a man to be a Daddy.  

Any male can make babies, but it takes a man of God to be with his children, whether they are a part-time dad, paying child support, or a dad with full visitation rights. 

Life has hurt many families, and stress over money and other things, has torn apart the fabric of our Nation’s cloth.  

It is not a shameful thing to be divorced.  

God is a God of restoration. 

Our nation needs its fathers.  

Our churches need to preach about this fatherless generation.  

 

“If not now, when?” 

 

This may be Gen-Z's turn to lead our nation someday.  

What about the generation that preceded them?  

Generation X was deemed that because society gave up on them.  

Jesus will not give up.  Never will the Lamb of God ignore any sheep.   

No matter what generation you are in, or was raised up through, you are valuable. 

 

Either you are a dad, a son with a dad, or a son without a dad.  

 

No matter the case, your Heavenly Father is your friend.  

He is not your foe.  

Be like Him.  Be like His Son Jesus. 

 

Do your best, and someday, if/when you have children, raise them up with Jesus at your home.  

Then you can declare, if you have a boy,

“Like father, like son.”

 In a good, healthy, and Godly way.  

Not perfect, but peaceful.  

If you have daughters, then it is “like father, like daughter.  

It all applies. 

Let us all pray for this generation.  

We need our dads.  

I needed mine.  I lost him when I was eighteen. 

I am 69 now, and Jesus Christ is the best Dad I could ever ask for.  

He even tucks me in at night through prayer.  I sleep, because He never rests.  He is available 24/7. 

 

He always will be.  

Trust that.  

Do your best serving Him.  

He will do the rest, as you rest in Him. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Up The Down Staircase

Sometimes people have the tendency to think that Salvation in Christ Jesus is like a staircase.  

One that we must climb, with the top of this staircase being where we eventually find God and Heaven. 

Maybe we think that baptism is the first step in the Salvation process.  

 

It is not.  

 

The first step is found in John 3:3.  

“Jesus answered and said unto him, (Nicodemus) ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.’”

 

Jesus said this to this leader of the Jews and made His first declaration of Salvation.  

 

There are no steps to Heaven, but there are steps leading to Hell. 

We will get to that soon. 

 

Some think the next step, or any step leading to Eternal Life, is when people realize that they need God to help them out of a terrible situation.  

Their “baby” faith is real, and in desperation they cry out to God Almighty.  

 

This is good, but that does not secure one’s place in eternity.  

 

Refer to John 3:3. 

 

Alot of times, we look at how we live our lives; the good that we do, or the prayers that we pray, and believe our goodness will help us take another step on the ladder to Heaven. 

 

The lives that we touch in a positive way will not help us go up the down staircase. 

 

This is not in reference to the movie from 1967 with the same name.  

1,200 students going down the staircase when the last bell rang.  

No room at all for anyone at the bottom to go up.  

This satire of schoolteachers, indignant students, and the political public school arena had its moment in this movie.  

 

I can only draw one conclusion from the going “up the down staircase.” 

 

Thousands and thousands of people who are without Christ as their Savior, are running, like those students, directly into hell and its darkness.  

 

They do not know it, but the ones at the bottom of the staircase (let’s call them Christians), are trying to get to Heaven by means of trusting in their Salvation because of the Cross of Calvary.  

Jesus died there, so they can make Heaven their eternal home. 

 

They will face trials, like getting run over by the ones going to hell but will possibly enter Heaven with a few bumps and bruises.  

 

Going up, the down staircase is really like living this difficult Christian life.  

Always working against the grain of society.  

Always fighting the good fight of faith in Christ around unbelievers and their mocking attitudes towards Jesus.  

It is part of the flight up the stairs for all who call upon the Name of Jesus. 

 

It is worth the steps we take to know Christ and Him crucified. 

 

In 1970 we moved to a town called Columbia in Maryland.  

Not far from Annapolis, about a thirty-minute drive from our townhouse, provided a completely different culture for me.  

I was from Texas, and did not fit in.  

(I do not know if I have ever “fit” in anywhere, especially after surrendering to Jesus back in 1977). 

 

My first day in school started at the bus stop.  We were bussed to a high school called Mt. Hebron.  

Fifteen minutes from home was not a long bus ride, but it seemed so for me with all the stops in between to pick up all the long-haired freaks (I called them).  

My hair was short, and their hair was down to the middle of their backs.  

I am talking about the male students.  

 

The era of Jimmi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison of the Doors.  

All rock and roll stars, who all three died at age 27 from drugs or alcohol poisoning. 

 

I am standing on the bus stop, waiting for the yellow bus, and listening to the “freaks” tease me about my short hair, dingo boots, and basic short sleeve shirt.  

I didn’t look like them.  

They had bell bottom jeans, tie-died shirts, and carried mini purses made from leather.  

Cool Man.  Cool. 

 

They whispered to each other, “He is a head-burner.”  

Talking about me.  

I guess my hair looked so short that they thought it had been on fire.  I don’t know.  

I was just teased all day long at school about being a Texan and a head-burner. 

 

Some of our classes involved bean-bag chairs instead of desks.  

Especially in Shakespeare class, called Theater 101. 

 

The only place on campus where we were allowed to smoke grass, weed, pot, or whatever you want to call Marijuana, was the boys’ restroom inside, and at the tennis courts, outside, during lunch. 

 

The boys’ restroom.  

Wow.  I will never forget this place.  

Standing room only.  

Ash trays hanging from the ceiling, made with yarn, Macrame-style, to hold them in place; these ash trays swung from side to side.

The pot smokers needed a place to put their ashes.  

If we left the restroom a mess, then we would have to clean and mop it up after school. 

All the above-mentioned rock stars were plastered on the tile walls of the boy's room.  

The “heads,” another name for stoners, replaced the light bulb in the restroom with a black light to highlight the black light posters of the future dead rock stars.   

This was Mt. Hebron high school.  

It was no wonder I would become a Dope addict not too long after these 8 months in Maryland. 

 

Daddy and his job got finished early, so Mayflower Moving Company moved us back to Dallas within a year of when we arrived. 

It was during our time in Maryland that Mom was diagnosed with liver cancer. It was only a matter of time, and she was gone. 

 

I was going down the drug escalator, rather than up to sobriety.  

I knew nothing about Jesus Christ and never went to church. 

 

My lasting impression of school in Maryland was not a good one.  

My brother came home from the University of California, Berkeley, when Mom was diagnosed.  

He dodged the draft to Vietnam by being in college.  

He was considered a draft dodger by default. 

 

As a complete family now, we moved back to Texas.  

The state Mom demanded to be buried in.  

I remember her saying that as we packed our belongings.  

“I do not want to die in this horrible place, Homer,” she said to Daddy. 

 

Goodbye Maryland.  Hello Texas.  

 

By age 16, I was mainlining Meth and doing armed robberies just after we buried Mom. 

 

My staircase had trip hazards in it.  

The steps were rotten with sin.  

Every step I took, was another one headed to death, hell and the grave.  

 

The problem is you can’t scare a drug addict into quitting.  It will take a catastrophe to stop me.  

And I was about to find out, the hard way. 

 

Part of this “Up the Down Staircase” issue is that we sometimes consider our individual sins and then write them off as “not too bad.”  

Well, sin is sin in the eyes of God, and we would be amiss to think otherwise.  

All sin needs to be put under the Blood of Jesus through repentance.  

 

Can’t live holy and be anything like Jesus with unrepented sin in our hearts. 

 

It took prison to bring me to my knees in repentance.  

I am glad I did repent.  

I am not glad I was in prison, but it was prison that saved my life.  

Then, Jesus saved my wretched soul. 

 

It is not about what we have done.  

It is about what we have left undone. 

 

Not loving God with our whole heart, not loving our neighbors as ourselves.  

We sometimes see our neighbors as inconveniences.  

Interruptions.  

Time wasters in our busy lives. 

 

This causes us to take a few steps forward.  

Then a few steps back in our ignorance and complacency.  

 

Human beings need human contact.  

 

Not to be ignored, because our needs are more important to us at the time of leaving the Samaritan by the side of the road.  

Half- dead.  

 

Our ignoring someone's need, when we clearly see it and can help fix it, is like leaving that poor man on the side of the road.  

 

The Good Samaritan was good, because he paid attention to someone else's pain.  

Not his own. 

This so-called staircase that we go down, instead of up, is like petting a tomcat backwards from tail to head.  

He does not like that, and if you even make it to his head, you may find yourself scratched and bitten.  

 

Hope he had his rabies shot. 

It is not about the direction you travel.  

It is about the destination you arrive at. 

Heaven.  Hell.  There is no in-between.  

 

It is a choice to fight the crowd and try and go up, when everyone around us is headed down.  

It is contrary to physics. 

 

2nd Corinthians 5: 21, Paul writes,

“For our sake he made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.”

 

God took all our junk, and all our evil, and gave it all to Jesus.  

And at the same time, God took all of Jesus’ righteousness and gave it to us.  

 

“What an exchange.” 

 

In essence, we are a sinner and a saint at the same time.  

 

We will always sin and fall short.  

But as we repent and give our sins, (shortcomings) to the Lord Jesus, He make us whiter than snow.  

He took our filthy rags of sin.  

He covered the filth with His precious Blood.  

It is the Atonement.  

Reconciliation and restoration.  

Being in right standing with the Father, through His only Begotten Son, Jesus. 

 

But the thing is, for God, this staircase is a “down” staircase.  

We don’t go up, God comes down.  

It’s not possible to go up the down staircase.  

The Gospel, the Good News of God in Christ, isn’t that Jesus finally gives us a way to get up that staircase.  

It is that God in Jesus came down for us.

IMMANUEL.  

God with us.  

Not us with God. 

 

You and I no longer must worry about the staircase, about trying to scratch and claw our way up.  

You no longer have to be concerned whether you’ve done enough, about the number of good God points you think you have earned somehow.  

 

In Jesus, we are not caught in the game of point-keeping or stair-stepping. 

 

So, next time you see a staircase, remember this sermon.  

Go ahead and try and go up a down staircase.  

You may get mauled, or you may find some lost student in high school, who has no idea where he or she is going.  

 

I sure didn’t when I was in Maryland.  

 

Truth is, as far as eternity, “We are either going up, or we are going down.” 

 

Make sure, as you are on the staircase alone, that you take each step carefully.  

It is an eternal, forever and ever, step.  

 

Choose wisely.  

Step by step.

With Jesus, you will never trip and fall backwards. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Our Domino Effect

                                                          

We have all said, “If I had it to do all over again, I would not have done that.”

 Or…

“If I could go back in time, I would fix that.”

 

Well, we can’t.

 

Never will we be able to turn back the hands of time, or stop the pendulum swinging.  

Life.  

Time.  

Reality.  

 

So, what can we do?

 

We have a life-or-death decision to make.  

We have all been created with the supreme privilege of a free will choice.  

 

And choices we make are eternal.  

No human being has made the correct choices in life 100% perfect.  

Can’t happen as long as we are human.

There is a thought that I call the “domino” effect.  It goes like this:  

A decision we make, big or small, starts the dominoes in life to fall.  

We can’t stop them.  

A good choice produces good results.  

A bad choice, bad results.  

Sometimes catastrophic results.  

 

We really do not know our choices are going to cause chaos until it is too late. 

Can’t take back the words we say that are harsh. 

Can’t undo a letter we just mailed unless we want to hijack the postman before he delivers that horrible letter we just sent to a loved one.

The fact is that the domino falls and does what it does. 

Not just to us. 

But to the ones around us we love.  Even if we are alone, we suffer the consequences of our choices. 

Given to us from God, our free will choices allow us to make mistakes and move on. 

However, there are those we love, or say we love, who are in the crosshairs of our rifling words and actions.  They are innocent bystanders from far off, or right next to our hearts.

When we seek freedom from ungodly actions or decisions, only Jesus can fix our mistakes. 

The consequences remain, but we learn a valuable lesson. 

 

“I won’t do that stupid thing again.”

 

Well, with His help, we will not repeat dumb, selfish decisions. 

Our human nature and our flesh desires seem to outweigh and overrule our thought processes at times. 

Humans that we are.

Frail, fragile, finite human beings, trying to do God’s will. 

We will, undoubtedly, make errors, sins, and distasteful decisions, all in the name of Jesus in error. 

Thinking that it is good or that it is His will, we launch out into that investment, marriage, or job offer which turned out to be an angel of darkness rather than light.

 

I can’t see clearly what to do when I fail. 

Except pick myself up, dust myself off, and grab my bootstraps and forge ahead, by faith.

 

This freedom to choose brings with it the burden of the consequences of our choices.

 

Moses was commanded by God saying,

“Now listen.  Today I am giving you a choice between prosperity and disaster, between life and death.  I have commanded you today to love the Lord your God and to keep His commands, laws and regulations.  Walk in His ways.  If you do this you will live and prosper. If your heart turns away and you refuse to listen, then I warn you now that you will be destroyed.  Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses.  I call on heaven and earth to witness the choice you make.  Oh, that you would choose life, that you and your descendants might live!”

Deuteronomy 30:15-18

 

Regrets lead to guilt. 

Guilt leads to remorse. 

Remorse leads to despair. 

Despair leads us into a spiraling out of control into depression. 

 

This depression, or commonly known now as Bipolar, is real, yet there is a way out. 

 

If a thought does reap an act, and an act reaps a habit, and a habit done long enough reaps a lifestyle, how do we stop this insanity?

 

Make better choices. 

How? 

Pray about every decision. 

 

This covers even little things, like which store to go to in my small town. 

I could go to the supermarket and wait in line longer. 

I could go to the smaller one, closer to home and wait even longer in the packed little store.

 

One day, I went to the smaller one out of convenience. 

Normally, I go to the bigger one, because it has better choices and cheaper prices.

 

Today, I felt I need to go, not because I was hearing a voice behind me saying, “Go this way.”  I just try to walk by faith and have my spiritual ears in tune to what God might do today. 

I do this every day, not even knowing I am. 

This is called a spiritual habit. 

Like reading the Bible every day. 

Praying. 

Worshipping etc. 

 

In the store, I allowed an elderly woman who was 80 plus in years, to go ahead of me in line.  She was in a motorized shopping cart. 

I saw her items as she put them on the belt. 

A half- case of Coca Cola.  A few toiletries. 

Some small food items, and a big case of Adult Diapers. 

 

My heart sank.

 

I used to foster care for the elderly, and my heart has always been big and open to them.

 

I made eye contact with the clerk and motioned with my hands and lips “I want to pay for her stuff.”  He acknowledged my gestures and rang up her items.

She had already zoomed to the debit card machine, almost running over my foot in the process.

Before she could get her card out of her purse I interrupted her.

 

“Ma’am, I would like to bless you today and pay for your stuff.” 

She responded, “Oh, that is not necessary, it's ok, Sir.” 

I replied again, “Well, Jesus has been good to me, and I know He has been good to you so please let me, okay?”

She hollered, “Well He has not done anything for me lately.” 

 

Gruff response and quite loud, too.

 

“Well Ma’am, Jesus is trying to right now if you will let Him.” 

 

Gruff, with love, back at ya.

 

I paid for her things, and she drove away.

Adult diapers are not cheap, and I wondered if they were for her or her husband.  Maybe she is a widow without much means. 

Her outward words of disgust or embarrassment were actually a bunch of words from a broken heart. 

I knew this by the Spirit of God.

The clerk laughed under his breath, but he, too, saw the generosity. 

 

The Name of Jesus was spoken by me twice, and it is the Name above every Name. 

 

It is the Name above poverty. 

The Name above incontinence

The Name above frustration. 

 

Life and death in the power of the tongue and out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.

 

She was in despair.  She had a need. 

I am glad, by faith I was at this store that day. 

Maybe the savings she saved from that purchase allowed her to buy her medication. 

Or her husband’s medication. 

I will never know. 

Maybe it allowed her to buy more groceries or pay her utility bill. 

 

Dominoes.

More of them fell that day and who knows where they ended. 

All I know is this. 

Good decisions produce good things.  Bad ones.  Well, you know.

 

We reap what we sow, and I am determined, like you, to sow to the Spirit and bless those who curse me. 

I will forever love my enemies. 

I will do, like you are trying to do, to be more like our Master Savior Jesus. 

We are the hands, feet, voice, compassion, and love of Christ our Lord.

Pray before you go to the store. 

Pray before you go to work. 

 

How about just praying?

 

We have the choice to be free. 

We are free to choose. 

The free will choice given to us from a Cross.

 

That Cross was not free. 

His Blood was not free. 

 

His pain was real. 

He did all this, so we can just try and try again to make good choices. 

If we fail, get up. 

Find the dust mop and dust yourself off. 

Try again. 

 

You will win. 

You will miss 100% of the shots you never take. 

 

Take a shot today. 

 

What happens if it works? 

 

I can hear the dominoes falling.                                                          

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

 

Less is More

The process of purifying silver requires many steps, but it must be heated to 1,760 degrees. 

Removing the impurities and all the dross is a process, but the less you do, the better it becomes.  

The purifying process is not as complicated as some may believe.  

This is the case where less is more comes into play. 

First you heat it up (Calcining) to the proper degree.  

Then you (Roast) it, which changes the composition of the silver, turning it from its sulfide property, to its native one. 

 

Sounds more than less, but bear with this analogy. 

 

Fusion melting is next. Which you melt the silver with lead to “alloy” it.  

Then the Cupellation process separating the silver from all the base metals. 

Finally, the “Miller process” which is primarily for Gold, not silver. 

 

Now that I have thoroughly confused you, let us look at the spiritual side of all this purification. 

 

When we purchase a product made of silver, we want it to be as pure and polished as possible.   We demand quality in the silver we purchase but seldom apply the same standard to a far more important part of our lives.  

 Our hearts. 

 This “feel-good” society we live in, demands we feel good all the time to succeed.  In the church sometimes, the preacher or pastor, tries to produce truth regarding God’s Word.  

 Some of the feel-good messages never point to the problem.  

 Sin. 

They try to keep everything positive in the church.  

I do not see this in Scripture. 

2nd Timothy 4: 2-5 declares…

“Preach the Word!  Be ready in season and out of season.  Convince, (the congregation members and visitors) rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching.  For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, (lusts) because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth and be turned aside to fables.  But you be watchful in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.”

 

Paul is “charging” the church. 

 

I know this may seem negative to you, but if you are in a church, or part of a church, or “the” church, then please read on.  

 

Being the church is far greater than attending. 

 

Go out into the world and preach the Gospel and make disciples of men. 

Your attendance in the church building is important from the standpoint of learning, growing, and equipping the saints for the work of the ministry. 

 

At some point, once we are fed, and then fed up with just listening and not doing, we will launch ourselves out into this dross- filled world and do something with our Christianity.  

 

Look for places where we can purify others as we purify our own hearts. 

 

As smelting removes the impurities in silver, the correction and rebuke, with patience and love, removes the impurities in our hearts. 

 “I will turn My hand against you, and thoroughly purge away your dross, and take away all your alloy.  I will restore your judges as at the first, and your counselors as at the beginning.  Afterward you shall be called the city of righteousness, the faithful city.”

Isaiah 1: 25

From the fire of purging to faith that moves mountains.  

Purified, cleansed, and made to shine in the face of death and destruction.

“God is the Light, and in Him is no darkness.”

1st John 1: 5

God is taking away from us, so we can be more.  

Less dross, more God.  

Less is more. 

 

A look into the mirror of life. 

As a former drug- addicted young man, I was full of dross, and there was no light or shining “anything” in my heart and mind. 

It took prison to hone me, shape me, and kill off my will.  

 

It also took a willingness on my part to change, but I was not willing until I was broken.

 

I was broken mentally, physically, and emotionally, while living in constant fear in a maximum-security prison.  Death and destruction were all around me, and I did not succumb to the games these violent men around me did. 

I hated myself, and them, for the insanity and torture they perpetrated on the weak fish in the pond. 

It took absolute heating up of my soul and will to boil away my sin. 

 

God did it.  

The pain of prison prepared me to be heated up past my own 1,760 degrees.  

I had to come to the silversmith’s heat-treating process to have any purity in me at all.  

Boiling hurts.  

It is more than hot, when you realize that my pain then, some 47 years ago now, would eventually bring gain to some soul in a prison that I get the privilege to preach to. 

It is like the potter's wheel in Jeremiah.  

The hand of God had to squeeze out my sin from me because I held on to it in my own death grip of rebellion and free will.  

Not free after I was purged by the Most High. 

 

It is like a “look into a mirror.” 

 

A little girl at age 8, looks at herself and sees herself as Cinderella sleeping beauty.  

By age 15, she sees Cinderella sleeping.  

Sleeping in her doubts as a want-to-be cheerleader.  

She cries out to her mom, “I can’t go to school to the try-outs because i am fat and have pimples today.  I feel too ugly, Mom.” 

 

At age 20, looks at herself and sees “too fat or too thin, too short or too tall.”  

Her hair is either too short, or too long, or too curly or too straight.  But she goes on into the world anyway. 

 

Now, at age 40, she sees that she is getting older now and reminds herself that of all the people who can’t go out into the world at all.  It is because of their own personal shame and guilt that makes them feel ugly in their mirror at home. 

 

By age 50, she has forgotten the Cinderella years and says, “What the heck, I will go anywhere I want to.  I do not care what people think of me.  I look the way I look, and I feel the way I feel, and I will be happy no matter what the world throws at me.”

 

By age 70, she looks into the same mirror she kept all these years, and sees wisdom, laughter, and ability.  She sees her worth in herself, and for the church, and mostly her self-esteem is in the Lord Jesus Christ.  

 

Can’t lose there. 

 

By age 80, she stops looking into the mirror at all.  She puts on a red hat and goes out to shop.

“Who cares?” 

When God turns up the heat in our lives, it is not to hurt us, but to help us.  Help us be more like Him.  The hands, feet and voice of Jesus.  No more, no less.  

 

Better put is, LESS is MORE. 

 

Go on, Little Girl, and dream of the silver slipper you need.  

Run on, Little Joey, and reach the National Football League with your abilities to run fast.  

Pump that iron and do those 100 sit-ups daily, Mr. Convict, in prison.  

Your outward man will get stronger, and you will look more intimidating to the other psychos around you. 

 

It would be better to build up your faith in Jesus and cut loose the iron pile.  

 

Fixing the body does nothing for the spirit.  

 

Read His Word.  

Take correction when needed.  

Dish it out too in love.  

Do not forget the love factor.  

Be the light amid a dark world.  

The Light of Christ. 

 

If less is more, then I would rather decrease in all areas of my life and allow the Holy Spirit to increase in me and through me.  

This is truly, “Less is More.”   

Let us all begin by emptying our spiritual vessels.  That is a lot less arduous than the 1,760 degrees of purging.  

Both will come in time.  Learn to embrace them both. 

 

Silver. 

Dorothy had ruby slippers in the Wizard of Oz.   Silver slippers were going to be used, but with the new “technicolor” advances in film, they changed them to Ruby, to stand out on movie theaters’ silver screens, as well as our new color televisions sets at home. 

All Dorothy wanted was to go home.  

There is no place like home.  There is no place like home. 

 

There is more at home with Jesus, than in the world.  

 

The world offers less than His More. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Living to Prove Something

Every human being is living proof.  

Yes proof.  

We are proving out, not what we say, but how we live.  Many people say one thing about who they are, and what they believe. 

Then they live another way, usually, the polar opposite of what they confess and profess, especially in a church environment.  

Like we have something to prove.  

 

Yes, you do have something to prove.  

You are currently proving out your life by the way you live. 

 

You say you are married, but you live in adultery.  

You say that you are an honest person, yet you cheat on your taxes or skim off the top at work. 

We say that we are happy and good people, yet our orphan spirit hurts and is in pain.  

It is like becoming comfortable saying,

“I’m good and all is well with my life, yet I die every day in my soul through depression and suicidal thoughts.” 

 

We say one thing and live another.   

 

Paul said in Romans 12:1-2,

“I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present (prove) your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service, and do not be conformed (persuaded, or drawn) to this world, but be transformed (changed) by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”

 

You and I are going to prove out what we live, no matter what we say or confess. 

 

It is called fruit bearing.  Reaping what we plant.  

Can’t stop God’s eternal law of sowing and reaping.  

If you plant corn, expect corn.  You do not plant potatoes, expecting something else.  

It has to do with the seed and the soil. 

 

What is your seed that has sprouted into a full-blown addiction?  

Was it abuse that was planted in you and through you by someone who said they loved you? 

Are you an alcoholic who is abusive or mean?  

You say, “I can quit anytime I want to.” 

So, by not quitting, you are proving that you like to hit your family in their faces?” 

 

We are going to prove out, and prove who we really are, no matter what we say, and no matter what others expect from us. 

 

I proved I was an addict and a violent person at age 15-20.  

I proved I could not stop.  

I proved that I could fight the law, and the law wins every time. 

I proved that my words meant nothing.  

I was a liar and a thief, and I reaped a harvest of pain, prison time, and insanity.  

Why?

Because I was living proof of being a liar.  No person around me, back then, could trust me regarding what I said or promised to do. 

Thieves steal.  I stole.  

Addicts shoot Dope.  I shot Dope.  

Insane people direct traffic late at night in Austin, Texas, high on Meth, and several other drugs, without a badge and a gun. 

 

I was proving that my sin was real, and I could not stop on my own. 

 

So, to every so-called Christian, I ask this.  

 

If you have been transformed by the renewing of your mind, then why are you still depressed?  

Who are you going to blame that one on?

 

  The devil has nothing to do with your Christianity and the choices you make.  

If the devil does, then you are not truly saved.  

 

We are living to prove something. 

 

If you are a Christian, then why can’t you control your anger?  

Are you comfortable raising your voice and screaming at your family?  

Do you continue in this manner, asking for forgiveness from your spouse and children after the big blow up? 

Then, after all the tears of so-called repentance on your part, the next day, or next week, you blow up, like a raging volcano?  

 

I don’t think Paul was incorrect in his statement to the church.  

“You must present or prove your bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.”

It is not acceptable to be a Christian and be filled with rage. 

It is not acceptable and your reasonable service to lack self-control with your mouth.  

Focusing on your past instead of believing for your future.  

 

Yes, if you and I are a Christian, we are not perfect.  

Never will be, but we can’t prove who we really are unless we prove to ourselves first that we are transformed.  

 

If we say we love Jesus Christ and then do all the things that are contrary to His Word, then we are liars, and the Truth is not in us. 

 

Christians should not be depressed, but some are.  

Christians should not fight, but we do.  

Christians should be faithful in all things, but some flounder and are half-baked in our dedications to Christ and our families.  

This is the worst form of being a hypocrite. 

 

Saying one thing and doing another.  

 

This grieves the Holy Spirit, and the worst thing we can do is get comfortable in our rebellion.  

Like it does not matter.

Just move on, go to church, and sing with the worship team.  

Parrot the words of the hymn or song.  

Never intending to live out what we profess. 

 

We will prove out and live out what we really are.   

 

I tell the men in prison when I preach…

“IF you are going to be a convict, then be the best manipulator you can be.  If you are going to run things on your cell block, then get all you can and prove you are the best.  If you are going to engage in molesting a weaker inmate, then realize that your act in abusing him is not just hurting him.  In the very act, you have become a homosexual by default.” 

 

They do not like this truth, but it is the truth. 

 

“So, be the best at your craft.  Put as much ink on your flesh as you can.  Just make sure you understand that those tattoos of teardrops near your cheek bone, will sag eventually as you get older, and look like acne instead of a symbol of how many men you have killed.” 

 

 

We are all living to prove something. 

There are so many places in scripture instructing the church to behave a Godly way; I do not have room to put them here.  

 

Paul made it clear.  

Be transformed. 

 

If you were a maniac before you met Jesus, and then met Jesus and have been born again, you are no longer a maniac. 

Prove it by being nice, rather than nasty. 

 

If you were an addict before Christ, stop putting a dirty needle in your veins. 

If you were addicted to prescription drugs, stop seeing the doctor and giving excuses for why you continue to need the drugs. 

 

Otherwise, the Jesus, you say you met, has no power to overcome IN you His deliverance and His mercy and His power to transform you.  

 

In essence, you are saying, “He is just not enough for me.” 

 

It is a sad situation for anyone to proclaim Christ as Savior and Lord, and not be recognized by their family, peers, co-workers, and even strangers; and not have any of them say…

 “Yes, they have changed.  They no longer get drunk.  They stopped stealing and cheating.  I have seen the PROOF of their transformed lives.” 

 

They are living to prove something.  

They once were THIS, and now they are THAT. 

 

Evidence of change.  

Proof of transformation and healing.  

 

The fact we say we are Christ followers is not enough.  

We need His power to stop saying words that kill our dreams.  

We need His power to defeat fears. 

We need His Presence in our walk daily, to overcome the temptations and lust of this world.  

If our Christianity is only based on going to church on Sundays, then going on Wednesday does not transform you.  It only proves you are diligent to play your role around people who look up to you perhaps. 

 

Who are we kidding, and who are we pleasing every day?  

Our neighbor?  Our spouse?  Our employer?  

No, we will be Christlike to them, if we put our effort in pleasing the God of our Salvation FIRST and foremost and quit playing the Christian Russian Roulette game. 

 

Put in our tithe this week and spin the wheel of fortune.  

Say a little prayer here and there and continue to be an abuser of people. 

 

Wouldn’t it be nice in church if we just fell on our knees at an altar?

 

Do this regularly and on any given Sunday, or any day we open the doors to the public, and just weep before a Holy God? 

This happens in some places.  

What would happen if the mainstream church, or the denominational ones, or even the home groups, would put aside their Bible studies, and testimonies and food afterwards, and just pray? 

 

What would happen if we got out of our comfort zones, and got uncomfortable in our sacrifice?  

Or in our service to the Lord?  

 

Pray without ceasing means, do not stop until the Lord releases you to stop.  

Not the fact your crockpot with the roast that is overdone, takes priority over His presence.  

Who decided church had to end at a certain time anyway?  

 

Go figure.  

I can imagine Jesus saying…

 “I wanted to heal them, and I wanted to fall on all of them and manifest my Presence in their lives, but they were in too big a hurry to go home, or shopping, or eat at Luby’s Cafeteria before the rush of church people show up and eat all the good stuff.  They say I am their Lord, but they won’t let me be Lord to them.” 

There is nothing wrong or misplaced in serving on a Sunday morning.  

Do not misinterpret what this is about.  

There is fruit that remains in the children's ministry you are a part of.  

There is Salvation in our stories of redemption.  

There is hope for the downtrodden when we preach or pray and lay hands on them on Sunday, or Wednesday, or whenever. 

 

I am simply declaring a change in routine.  

 

Every person who is a Christian, and means it, is valuable to the Kingdom of God, in any service we do in the church.  

 

Remain faithful and keep doing what you do, and the Lord will reward you. 

 

It is about living, to prove something. 

Look at your life as a Christian and ask yourself several questions.  

Am I happy?  

Am I free from my past?  

Am I filled with His Spirit, and the joy of the Lord is my strength?  

Am I faithful to act like, and be like a Christ follower? 

 

If the answer is yes, then you should be able to see the proof of your living. 

 

If you bounce back and forth in sadness, then joy, then you are a doubting man, being tossed to and fro, like a wave of the sea.  (James 1: 6-7).  

That man, or woman, or child is a doubting person, and God’s Word declares that they will not receive anything from Him because they are double-minded, and unstable in all their ways. 

 

This is not the fullness of His Salvation from the Cross.  

If you are like this, then you can be set free.  

 

If you are a mean Christian, then God can set you free from the anger that was deep rooted in your childhood. 

You do not need a dose of medication.  

You should not just go to church to feel good.  

You do not need a dose of temporary peace. 

 

A full dose, and immersion in His Presence, will kill off complacency.  

It will destroy the work of the devil.  

It will replace your lack of purpose with destiny. 

 

If you and I are going to live to prove something, then let us examine our hearts, and let the Holy Ghost clean out the doubts, fears, anxieties and frustrations of this life.  

 

If you are not saved, then you can be by simply accepting Christ, repenting of your sins, and believing in Him and His finished work on The Cross.  

 

“All who call upon the Name of Jesus will be saved.”

 

You're living to prove something.  

 Live to prove you are a real Christian.  

 

Otherwise, you are dying to disprove His existence.  

You will only live, if you surrender to Jesus Christ.  

There are no other options.  

You and I have proved what we are.  

 

Now, we must prove what we are not. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Three Strikes, You’re Out

The American way.  Baseball, Hotdogs, Apple Pie, and Chevrolet.  

This memorable phrase was used in a Chevrolet commercial to evoke feelings of Americana.  It was launched on television in 1974, featuring a jingle with scenes that showcased these American staples. 

I am not a baseball fan, but it is apparent that when a batter strikes out, he is through, until his rotation is back up to bat.  Only if there are enough “innings” left in the game. 

America was founded on morals, ethics, and Christianity.  This is not a story about our history or influences “from sea to shining seas.”  It is about decay.  It is about disorder, and the answer to stop all the chaos we feel in 2025 in the land of the free, and the home of the brave. 

 

I direct your attention to the classic Jonah story in the Bible. Jonah was a prophet who disobeyed God’s call to preach repentance to the city of Nineveh.  

Instead of doing what God commanded him to do, he ran. 

 

Notice that I said repentance.  

Preach repentance.  

Question: why is it that so many sermons on Sunday morning and in many churches, hardly ever talk about sin and repentance? 

 

Answer.  Because some, not all, preach a squishy Gospel.  

A feel-good Gospel.  

No confrontation about sin.  

No opportunity to get things right with God.  

Just a simple message about this or that.   

 

Yes, we should, as preachers and teachers of God’s Word, explain and direct the congregation to learn and grow in Him.  

This is assuming that everyone in the crowd is born again.  

 

Not the case where I primarily preach.  

I preach in maximum-security prisons. 

 

Equipping the saints for the work of the ministry (Ephesians 4:12) is valued by every church pastor.

He or she cannot do it all by themselves.  Every church needs volunteers.  

No leadership can lead unless someone follows. 

 

There is an old saying,

“So, you call yourself a leader?  Look behind you.  If no one is following you, you aren’t!” 

 

 Let us see Jonah for what really happened.  Most Christians know this story, so I will capsulate it. 

Jonah was told by God to go and preach repentance to the city of Nineveh. 

He rebelled and went instead to Tarshish.  

Once the storm came upon the ship, Jonah was thrown overboard because the men on the ship realized the storm was because of Johah and his disobedience.  

 

Jonah deserved what was coming. 

 

A great fish swallowed him.  He did not fall into the blow hole or in the great fish’s lungs.  

He did not get chewed up because the fish was hungry.   

 

He was swallowed because God had a plan of repentance for the people of Ninevah.  

 

It just so happened that Jonah had to repent first, before he could preach repentance. 

 

His first “strike” was not a swing and a miss.  It was almost drowning in the sea, a real sea.  

Not a sea of remembrance in his disobedient mind. 

Jonah got what was coming to him.  Not death.  

But a second chance to swing the bat and hit a homerun. 

 

The second strike was the living in the belly of a fish.  

The fish was digesting its food.  Stomach acid?  I do not know the inner works of a great fish.  

I just eat Halibut fish and chips from Newport Bay in Portland, Oregon when I visit there.  

“Hold the tartar sauce, please?” 

 

“For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the floods surrounded me; all Your billows and Your waves passed over me.  Then I said, ‘I have been cast out of Your sight; Yet I will look again toward Your holy temple.’”

Jonah 2: 3-6

Jonah was coming to an end of himself and his disobedience. 

“The waters surrounded me, even to my soul; the deep closed around me; weeds were wrapped around my head.  I went down to the moorings of the mountains; the earth with its bars closed behind me forever; yet You have brought up my life from the pit, O Lord, my God.”

 

Notice, that Jonah was not “out” of the baseball game yet.  

He had two strikes against him with the ball headed his way.  

 

Would he strike out?

 

Jonah declared, “When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; and my prayer went up to You, into Your holy temple.”  verse 7. 

 

Had he not repented, he would have been digested, and would have left the great fish, like all the rest of the great fish’s food.  

Not through the blow hole.  

There were three other options.  

 

Vomit. 

 

God had the fish vomit Jonah up onto a beach. 

Jonah had a second chance to do what God told him to do.  And he did, and Nineveh was saved.  

Some scholars say over 120,000 inhabitants believed God and repented when Jonah preached to them.  

God spared them from judgment because of their repentance. 

 

This notion of the “earth with its bars” closed behind me forever, that Jonah said in verse 6, brings up a personal point with me. 

 

My bars were real.  

Maximum-security prison has bars, and I was behind many of them in 1976.  

This Texas prison was horrible, and there were times I would have rather been digested and destroyed by the inhabitants of this prison.  

But God had a better plan for me to be spit up on to a beach of freedom.  Not just freedom from my incarceration. 

Freedom in Christ.  

Free to take my one and only chance of redemption, and I ran with it.  

 

The stench of my sin was like Jonah and the digestive juices inside this great fish which surrounded Jonah.  

It stunk.

I had stunk in my sin.  

I was putrid. 

 

Jonah got a second chance to do right by God.  

 

I wonder how many chances people will get to repent, and receive Christ?

 

One, Two, or “Three strikes you're OUT.” 

 

I preached a similar message like this in Costa Rica in 2008. I was in a horrible, run- down prison near San Jose. 

The guard towers were made of wood and were leaning to one side.  

The perimeter guards, on the outside of the fence, rode a bicycle with a machine gun and bullets draped across their chests.  

They rode around the prison, hoping to see someone, anyone, try and escape. 

My interpreter did a great job taking my words in English, and “exactly” sending them into the crowd of prisoners in their language. 

When I was done, several men came forward and received Christ.  The crowd was around 70 men, and over fifty percent knelt at the altar and received Jesus as their Savior. 

I prayed for anyone, and everyone, who wanted prayer.  

The power of God was very thick and evident in this small chapel inside this prison.  My interpreter continued with his inflections and body language, mimicking me and my every word and hand movements.  

He was an excellent interpreter and became me, to a degree. 

 

Once I had prayed for all the men at the altar, I gently reached over and touched my interpreter on his forehead.  

He collapsed and fell on the wooden floor.  The Power of God hit him, and he stayed on the floor for over thirty minutes. 

Had this happened in a prison in America, the officers would think someone put a knife in him and would have locked down the prison.  

 

They do not understand the power of God. 

 

These Costa Rican guards noticed, but did nothing. 

When it was time to leave, the officers brought in a stretcher, thinking he was sick.  They wanted us out of there and instructed us to leave hurriedly. 

The other volunteers with me helped carry him out to the van. 

 

An hour passed, and he came out of his Anointed moment. 

 

He spoke to us about what had happened to him.  

He stated,

 

“I was caught up between Heaven and Earth.  I saw a dimension in the Spirit of the Lord I have never seen.  I was in a whirlwind and was moving fast, as the Lord showed me true, Godly repentance.  I was gone in the Spirit for what seemed like a few seconds to me.” 

 

He was out cold for over an hour and a half. 

 

Jose Louise, the interpreter, stated that he felt the sorrow of the Lord over lost souls.  

He felt Hell and the true meaning of being choked out with seaweed, like Jonah almost was. 

He told me privately,

“Joe, I got saved, all over again.

It is hard to imagine this, but I thought I was born again, but when you touched me with your finger on my forehead, I left my body.  My spirit was in a different place, sensing Heaven and Hell all at once.  I now know what it means to repent.  Truly repent.” 

 

I share this to let you know what Paul said…

“It is a Godly sorrow that leads to repentance, that leads to salvation, not to be regretted, but the sorrow of the world produces death.

2nd Corinthians 7:10.

 

Jonah had his second chance.  He did not strike out. 

 

If you are playing a game of baseball, I hope you win.  

If you are playing games with God, you will lose.  

Do not take His grace for granted.  

You may feel you have already struck out with God.  

You haven’t.  

 

If you are breathing air, there is hope.  

 

You are not in a sea of forgetfulness.  

 

God knows all that is going on with you and me. 

 

If you strike out in baseball, there is always another opportunity to step up to the plate and swing. 

Take the opportunity to stay in the game.  

There will come a day when the lights of the ballpark go out forever.  

 

Keep swinging.

  

God owns the bat.  He owns the ball.  He owns the game.  

If Jesus is on the Throne of your heart, you will never find a day in this game of life where you will hear, “YOUR OUT.”   

 

You are not out, you are up.

Step up to The Cross.  

It is at the foot of The Cross, where you will “hit” it out of the park. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

The Construction of Sorrow: No Pain, No Gain

                                                           

I have been working on this ranch for three years now, and lately, I have been digging holes with a pickaxe and shovel.  Setting posts in concrete is fun, even though at 69 years young, it is not as fun as when I was in my twenties. 

With a string line and level to keep things straight and true, the process of this construction began about a month ago.  

Considering the terrain, and the ground not being level, it has been a challenge to construct this chicken coop and free-range for the 12 chickens I have raised since they were baby chicks.  

 “Tweet, tweet.” 

Building anything is not my trade.  

I am a baker, and the hot Texas sun is like an oven to a degree.  

My body is baked, not muffins. 

I say this to make a simple point.  

Sorrow is built from scratch, like this chicken project.  

 

We do not get the luxury of deciding when sorrow will hit us.  Or the intensity of the pain we feel.  

The way it is built, in some ways, is healthy for us. 

We all must deal with sorrow during our lifetime, and it comes in various ways and to different degrees.  

Some instances are easy to deal with where others are grieving and hurtful to the core of our being. 

 

The sudden impact of the loss of a loved one is very challenging and can affect the way we think and react when we are in our storm of sorrow. 

Our responses to these kinds of sorrows vary.  They differ depending on our personality, but many of us just stuff the feelings deep down somewhere in the faraway places of our souls.  

We can ignore it for a season, but it always surfaces and shows its ugly head, usually at the wrong time in our life. 

 

The lifestyle we are in will magnify the issue if we are in an addiction, or fresh out of a divorce or breakup.  

Sorrow is blown out of proportion as we allow it all to be multiplied in our hearts and minds. 

 

2 Corinthians 7: 4-11, declares that “Great is my boldness of speech (Paul’s letter to the Corinthian church) toward you, great is my boasting on your behalf.  I am filled with comfort.  I am exceedingly joyful in all our tribulation.  For indeed, when we came to Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were troubled on every side.  Outside were conflicts, inside were fears.  Nevertheless God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus, and not only by his coming, but also by the consolation with which he was comforted in you, when he told us of your earnest desire, your mourning, your zeal for me, so that I rejoiced even more.” 

Paul went on to declare that even if he had made them sorry with his letter, “I do not regret it.” 

 

 Because he knew that their sorrow would lead to repentance.  

 

Paul is highlighting the fruits of their Godly sorrow, including a renewed sense of diligence, clear-headedness, indignation at sin, fear of repeating it, and a desire for reconciliation with God.  

Only worldly sorrow leads to death, but a Godly sorrow leads to repentance, and salvation. 

 

What does this have to do with the building blocks of constructing sorrow? 

 

We may try and intellectualize and drown our sorrow when it hits.  This defense mechanism is used by reasoning and blocking confrontations.  The unconscious conflict and its associated emotional stress involve removing oneself emotionally and avoiding the reality of a serious problem. 

 

Good sorrow, which is dealt with in God, and His Mercy, will become the foundation of your life, for handling the storms of sorrow which will come. 

 

It is up to us to build upon this “sorrow-concrete” foundation, and not let the rest of the building start, until the concrete has cured.  

Otherwise, it will crack, and the house will come tumbling down.  

 

“Rock or sand, where do you build your life?” 

 

Not all sorrow is bad for us.  

Jeremiah said, “Though God brings grief, He also shows compassion according to the greatness of His unfailing love.  (Multitude of mercies). Lamentations 3;32.  

 

When you are bummed out, go to Lamentations, and you will find if you read through it all, your problems are not as bad. 

First Book of Lamentations is entitled “Jerusalem in Affliction.”  

Second Book is, “God’s Anger with Jerusalem.”   

Third, Fourth and Fifth is, “The Prophet’s Anguish and Hope, the Degradation of Zion,” and finally, “A Prayer for Restoration.” 

 

“Our sorrows are bad, but are they as bad as what happened to Israel?” 

 

The Corinthian Church had grief and sorrow, and it was good because it came from honest self-evaluation, not morbid self-condemnation.  

We can learn to accept our sorrow as part of freedom in Christ, praying that Romans 8: 28, will happen.  

Hoping ALL things, including our sorrows, will work together for the good of our lives.  

They will, if we love God.  

They won’t, if we leave the Lord Jesus Christ out of our pain. 

 

I remember when I was 15 years old.  I was just told by my father that my mama was dying of liver cancer.  I cried, and cried, until I could not cry any longer.  

The tears stopped, then a new anger raged in me.

 

I did not know why I was so mad back then, but I was angry.  

This escalated during the 9 months of her demise.  The cancer, from the day she was diagnosed, until she died, took nine, long, painful months.  She suffered greatly.  

I suffered more, in my mind and heart, because I thought that she gets to die, while I live on in my addiction. 

 

So selfish was this.  I did not know or realize that my sorrows were fueled by bad behavior and shooting drugs into my veins.  I opened the door to this insanity and demonic influence.

 

My construction of sorrow was flawed from the beginning.  

The foundation was made of quicksand, not God’s conciliatory concrete.  

 

A solid foundation to build upon the sorrow I was facing and endured.  

My older siblings survived and moved on with their grief.  

I was in sinking sin, drowning in my depression and anger. 

 

“Where was the Apostle Paul and his kind words he spoke to the Corinthian church?” 

 

I could have cared less about God and the Bible.  

I thought the Bible was something to leave closed on the coffee table.  

 

As far as God, I believed, in my sick and twisted mind, that it was His fault my mom died.  

At least I had something to blame.  

In my heart, it was not the cancer that killed her.  It was her abusive behavior towards me and my siblings that killed her.  

She reaped what she sowed.  

I did not know about this eternal law at 15.  I just knew that if I did enough of the Meth, I could erase my pain for 38 hours at a time.  

That worked for a while, until time caught up with me.  

 

Time was spelled POLICE DEPARTMENT, in my heart. 

 

I got caught alright.  

Handcuffed and stuffed into the back seat of several police cars and paid a heavy price for my addictions and anger.   

 

Not only was my foundation flawed, but it was also non-existent.  

 

 

Spiritual matters in the Wilkins’ home were muted because of living for the world and making money.  

Yes, my daddy was successful as far as the world is concerned.  He died at age 46 from a single gunshot wound to his head.  

My mom was 41 when she succumbed to cancer.  

Both died young, and did not finish their race at all.  

Barely got out of the starting gate, in my opinion. 

 

I had a bunch of regrets, but I do not regret the sorrows I felt then.  

I found out, later in life, that my sorrows would bring an anointing from the Most High God.  

His name is Jesus the Christ, the Anointed One, sent from God.  

He took my pain and turned it into His gain. 

Every time I share from a pulpit in a prison, or in a church in the free world, His Power comes when I preach with tears in my throat.  

 

My pain is relived for a few minutes in my sermon as I talk about my mom and dad.  My throat fills up with tears of happiness when I get to the part about how Jesus saved me while in prison.  

I re-live to re-love.  

I fall in love with Jesus, all over again during the altar invitation when souls come forward to accept His grace.  

 

My pain was someone else's gain.   

 

Yes, it hurts all over again, and I never get used to it.  But I know that if I share my past pain, some poor, lost soul will relate to my anguish, and the Holy Ghost will get them.  

 

“OH, how He gets them.”   

He lures them to an altar, one scripture reference at a time as I preach.  He sinks His pearly white teeth into their heart, not to harm them, but for their heart to begin to heal, as His teeth are a metaphor for His Power to heal the broken hearted and bind up their wounds.  

Psalm 147: 3.  

His teeth turn into a kiss.  

One kiss from His heart to ours begins the foundation of faith.  

 

Now, we can build upon the Rock.

 

 “The solid Rock I stand.  My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ Blood and righteousness.  I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.  On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.” 

 

You and I can avoid the quicksand of insanity.  We can bypass the bear traps of turmoil.  We can stop drowning in our doubts and fears.  

We can rely on Christ, and all that He stands for.  

 

Yes, it takes time.

 

What are the alternatives? 

There are none.  

You can endeavor seeking counseling and pills.  

You can let yourself be diagnosed manic-sad.  

You can talk to a physician and let them convince you that you are terminal.  

Or you can meet the Great Doctor, Jesus, and bypass the surgery all together. 

 

I guess the reality is this.  My pain when I was young was real.  I am not ignoring it at all.  

I am not so super-religious that I ignore pain when it comes.  

I can identify sorrow easily. 

 

We can become so spiritually minded that we are no earthly good to anyone.  

 

No one cares what you believe or who you believe in, when tragedy strikes your heart.  

What they want is answers to their pain.  

I only have one answer for pain.  It is a pain killer over time.  

No prescription is needed.  

No money spent on doctors or pharmacies.  

It is a prescription of love.  From the original One who created love.  

He bore our sorrows on a tree.  

He bled and died, and then rose again from death, so you and I can build a new foundation.  

It is based on His love, and Mercy for us.  

He knows our pain, before it arrives on our doorstep. 

 

Put on your tool belt.  Work boots intact.  Go and build a house.  

It is a dwelling place for Jesus to be in with you.  

 

This construction of sorrow you will build is not in vain. 

 

Remember, no pain, no gain.  

Sorrows will come our way from time to time.  

It is what we do with them that matters.  

 

Give them to Jesus.  He can handle it. 

 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Happy Mother’s Day!

God Bless you wonderful mothers out there!

Happy Mother’s Day!

An Equal Opportunity God

2 Timothy 2: 11-13…

“This is a faithful saying:  For if we died with Him, we shall also live with Him.  If we endure, we shall also reign with Him.  If we deny Him, He will also deny us.  If we are faithless, He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself.”

This sure foundational truth is that our eternal life is based on faith in Christ, and Him alone.  

Though we are less than faithful at times, He remains faithful in all His promises to us. 

 

If we endure hardship for Christ, we will reign with Him.  

Conversely, if we deny Christ, He will deny us.   

 

In a certain way, this is like a long-term employment opportunity given to us by God.  

If the Holy Ghost reveals Jesus to us, then we must respond to His work on the Cross, and never deny the fact that Jesus Christ died for us all. 

 

Because of God’s great love, He bestows His gifts and treasures in us.  As humans, we tend to look upon preachers, evangelists, pastors, prophets, and apostles as, somehow, above the rest of us.  

 

Called by God?  Yes.  

Anointed and appointed by the Most High God?  Yes.  

 

God uses people of all types, and His love for us is like an equal opportunity employer. 

He does not choose us based solely on our willingness to be His servant.  It is His love for us, and the love we give back, that draws us to sacrifice our lives for the Gospel’s sake.  

He pours His treasures in earthen vessels.  2nd Corinthians 4:7.

 

This excellence only comes from God regarding His Power.  We are just willing vessels, or the conduit He uses to pour His power through us. 

 

Let us look at His hiring process. 

 

C.S. Lewis once wrote…

“You cannot continue being the good egg forever.  You must either hatch, or rot.”  

 Billy Sunday said…

“Joining the church does not anymore make a person a Christian than entering a garage will change you into an automobile!” 

 

If we claim to be a Christian, we should have transformed desires that result in transformed behaviors.  

I believe our lives should reflect what Jesus did for us.  

 

He loves us so much so, that He died for us.  We should now live for Him. 

 

God is an equal opportunity employer. 

Just because our interview went quite well, and we accepted this job, does not mean we get paid, if we do not show up and work.  

 

We must finish all our tasks He gives us. 

 

Even an unbeliever can be morally stable and even have significant life changes that result in good works.  

Except for all the wrong reasons. 

 

Serving God to avoid Hell is like accepting surgery so you won’t die.  

How about accepting the surgery so you will live? 

 

What is our true reason in accepting this job offer from God?  

 

So, we can get a promotion?  A pay raise?  

Or is it because we want the pension and gold watch at retirement?

 

First, there is no retiring as a Christian.  

No quitting.  

No unemployment benefits.  

Nothing, if we quit.  

There are no other jobs available that offer eternal life.  

No matter what your resume lists about you being a good egg. 

 

Just go out and apply to every other religion and their promises.  

None had the Son of God die, and resurrected.  

None.  

 

Oh, they will hire you.  

No questions asked, as you head to a place in the ultimate eternal retirement.

 It’s hot there.  

Too hot to handle. 

 

Most natural office retirement parties include the gold watch.  Fellow employees celebrating you retiring.  A cake, with your 25 years of service, decorated with blue icing.  

Yum.  

A goldish time piece to keep track of porch sitting and rocking back and forth.  

“Can’t wait for that.” 

 

They all say to you, “Job well done.  Enjoy your retirement.” 

 

 I would rather hear,

“Well done My good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will set you over many, enter into the joy of your Lord.”

Matthew 25: 21.

 

To serve in any job description as an employee of Jesus Christ, we must be willing to start anywhere. 

 

I did not start preaching 40 years ago.  It began with being an Armor Bearer for an Elijah model of a man.  

I was his go-to man.  

I carried his luggage at the airport.  I traveled a little with him but still worked a full-time job at home. 

When my sons were born in 2000 and 2001, travel stopped for the most part.  My sons were little boys then, and I never neglected being with them.  

 

I was the subordinate servant and was glad to be there.  

There was nothing better than to sit under a seasoned preacher and learn the art of the altar call. 

 

My preaching style came later.  

I was happy to learn.  

 

How will you become what God wants you to be and do, unless we are willing to learn and grow? 

 

Why not work hard to better the company, rather than trying to get all you can, “can” all you get, and sit on the lid.  

Never thinking about the other people you work with.  

 

There is no ladder of success to climb in the Kingdom of God.  

 

Only steps.  

Following Jesus requires obedience.  

 

Not promotions handed out, because we think we deserve it. 

 

The Word of God says to us clearly,

“You did not choose Me, but I chose you (hired you) and appointed you (chosen for a particular job function) that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain.”

John 15:16

 

“Work your job, and do not complain.” 

 

Jesus nominates us for a position He chooses.  

He wants us to be His servant and do what the Master says do. 

 

He loves us, not because our resume was so good.  

You and I were only qualified to be hired because we were sinners in need of a Savior.  

 

Jesus, who died on the Cross, died so we could be hire-able. 

 

To serve in our job description He gives us, is not on paper.  

Well, it is if you read the Bible.  

 

Your specific job will be explained as you go.  

It is called, ON THE JOB training. 

 

Jesus, the greatest equal opportunity employer, does not discriminate against any person because of race, color, or national origin.  

Religion, sex, physical or mental disabilities or age, is overlooked by Him.  

He always sees potential.  

Jesus looks upon mankind equally because 2 Peter 3:9 says,

“The Lord is not slack, or slow, concerning His promise, as some count slackness.”

(looseness, weakness, lack of care or concern, slowness or negligent in duties performed)] 

“He is longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish (jobless, dying on the streets, hungry) but that all should come to repentance.”

 

In other words, a surrendered heart.  

A heart that says, “I will accept any position you want Lord, no matter how hard it might be.” 

 

The question today is, “Who do you really want to work for?” 

 

Why do you want to be employed by Jesus?  

 

It is not an easy job.  

 

In fact, Jesus when He began his company, He started as a baby in an animal stall.  He was wrapped in swaddling clothes which were narrow strips of cloth, wrapped around this baby Jesus.

 It was to restrict His movement.  

He went from the bottom of the fish tank in birth, seemingly restricted physically, to the Son of God fully.  

He was qualified by His Father to raise Lazarus from the dead.

  

The cloth around Lazarus was like what Jesus had on as a baby. 

 

Jesus has the power today from Heaven to make a profit in His investment in you and me.  

He does not look for interest earned on His Blood investment.  

Every drop was money in His account. 

 

Jesus never looked for a promotion in His Kingdom.  

He wanted to promote us, and step aside so we could be valued.  

 

As the CEO of Heaven, Jesus declares the truth. 

 

Isaiah 45: 21-24…

“The Word has gone out of my mouth in righteousness and shall not return. That to Me, every knee shall bow, every tongue shall take an oath.  He shall say, surely in the Lord, ‘I have righteousness and strength.’”

The best Entrepreneur Jesus, who has the ability and power to always be ready to develop His employees, organize and run His Kingdom business enterprise.  

Even with the human element in His employees, with all our uncertainties and lack of skills, at times, He makes a profit that cannot be lost or stolen by anyone, or anything. 

 

“What is this profit, you may ask?”  

 

It is expanding this enterprise called Heaven by franchising the business and spreading His company all over the world.  

In every jurisdiction, town, village, and city.  

All countries on Earth eventually can fill out an application and be hired.

 They are not disqualified.  

 

Jesus is not looking for anyone with any experience.  

He only wants those who will obey His every command.  

Not with an iron rod, but with nail- scarred hands, He will embrace every employee of His.  

He will do it with love.  

His unwavering love for all of us. 

 

He will never sell out.  His company will never go bankrupt.  

No lawsuits will ever come against His Kingdom.  

He knows exactly how to run His company, without flaws.  

Without cheating on the books.  

(Well, there is only one book, the Book of Life).  

He knows how to write a new name in there, without having to ever erase it. 

 

He is the accountant over all the earth’s inhabitants.  

All of us, whether we worked for Him or not, will give an account of our lives, of how we lived, and who we worked for.  

 

We only have so much time to be employed anyway. 

 

Jesus always hires unqualified applicants.  

He hires ex-convicted felons.  He hires many of them while they are still employed in prison.  They physically work for The Boss Man.  

 

But, while they are off work inside, they moonlight for Jesus. 

 

No overtime.  Just obedience to work for the Master. 

 

He hires drug addicts and prostitutes, on the spot, without an interview.  

While they are still practicing their trade, He puts them under His employment and Authority.  

Little by little, they stop doing those things that cause Him to cry over their souls.  

After some time, He sets them free.  

Not from their job with Him.  

 

He frees them from their hangups, hiccups and hypocrisies, so they can be more productive and fruitful.  

 

He even hires those who do not have these kinds of problems.  

 

We do not become qualified because of how good we are.  

We are qualified because of how Good He is.  

Do not confuse this. 

 

He is the only Chief Executive Officer.  

He is controlled, only by His Father. 

 

You are His stock options.  He won’t sell you off, give you away in a proxy fight.  

You won’t be traded or sold on a chopping block of this world’s system.  No takeovers, either. 

 

If you let Him, He will take ownership of your soul too.  

 

You do not have to sell your soul to the Devil any longer.  

 

No matter what is left of your life, Jesus wants you.  

He needs you. 

 

In my life, from age 12, until now, I have had 53 different jobs in this world. 

I was a retail manager.  I drove forklifts.  I milked cows.  I have washed dishes in the early years.  Pumped gas.  I learned the upholstery trade.  I was a machinist before I went to prison. 

 

I have worked in every secular job I could find.  

I was a warehouse manager for a phone company in 1978.  

I even climbed telephone poles before the era of underground cable. 

For thirty years, I was a master baker and pastry chef. 

 

I have done a bunch of jobs.  

 

All in all, I know how to do many things.  

But I have never worked a white-collar job.  It has always been hard labor, to a degree.  

The best job, outside of the job I currently have, is not a job I was qualified to do.  

 

I learned while on the job.   

 

I am working full-time on a ranch today.  

I am 69, digging holes with a pickaxe and shovel, and pouring concrete and setting fence posts. 

It is good for me physically.  

 

MY best job is not a job at all. 

 

I am a preacher of this precious Gospel.  

The Good News that Jesus Saves.  

It is a calling, not a job, to me.  

 

I do not have a white collar or a blue collar.  

I have a yoke upon me, and I am learning every day from Him. 

 

I was hired by Jesus, from a cotton field, 47 years ago.  

That is one job I would like to have never done.  

I had to do it while in prison at age 20. 

 

He hired me.  

 

He has the best benefits of any employer.  

I have full medical and dental and eye care.  

My body is in his care, as He is the Great Physician. 

My 401 K retirement plan is set in stone.  

The same stone that was rolled away from the tomb Jesus was in.

He died, so I could live without a grave.  

No headstones for me. 

 

 My name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life today.  

It has been there since May 8, 1977.  

Mother’s Day morning while in prison.  

 

I surrendered my job with Satan, to work for the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. 

Jesus Christ is the Equal Opportunity Employer of a lifetime.  

 

If you are hired by Him, or ready to be hired, you will have a job forever.   

 

It will be in Eternity.  

You will work for Him, the rest of time itself. 

 

Please do not wait any longer to go to work.  

It is so rewarding to serve Him. 

 

I do not need a gold watch when I leave this earth for Heaven.  

I will live on streets of gold, and the Sea of Glass will shine and shimmer.  

There will be no more pain, sorrow or tears.  

Only Jesus.  

 

What more could we ask for today?  

Ask Him.  

 

He is stretching out his hands to embrace you today. 

He stands at your door knocking.  

Just open the door by faith, and He will come in, and be with you, no matter what your current employment status is. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

 

The Good, the Bad, and the Forgiven

In 1966, there was a western movie depicting the Civil War era, featuring actors Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef, and Eli Wallach.  

“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.”

 

Clint Eastwood was a bounty hunter named Joe.  He was the Good guy.  

Lee Van Cleef, named Angel Eyes, was the Bad man, a ruthless, confident, and borderline sadistic mercenary.  He took great pleasure in killing.  

He always finished the job for which he was paid, usually as a “tracking assassin!” 

 

The Ugly part, was played by Eli Wallach, cast as a Mexican bandit named Tuco Ramirez.  

 This movie was set in the historical era of 1862, in the American Southwest.  It was all about money, murder, and fame.   

Much like the many reasons we sometimes find ourselves in jail or prison, or divorce court, and in financial ruin towards homelessness.  

Some of us were good, then turned bad.  Ugly in our sin, then redeemed by Jesus to be good.  

Good is defined as doing good works, trying to earn our salvation.  

We know what bad is.  

Many different levels of bad behavior. 

 

Keeping this in mind, therefore, I have entitled this message,

“The Good, the Bad, and the Forgiven.” 

 

Greed, outbursts of anger, selfishness, and outright abusive tendencies, were portrayed in the Western movie I spoke about in the beginning.   

Today, not much has changed as far as the way human beings bounce back and forth in bizarre behaviors and sins. 

Luke 10:25-34, and 37,

“And behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tested Him, saying, ‘Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?’

Jesus said unto him, ‘What is written in the law?  What is your reading of it?’

So, he answered and said, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.’

And He said to him, ‘You have answered rightly; do this and you will live.’

But he, wanting to justify himself, said to Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’  Then Jesus answered and said, ‘A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who stripped him of his clothing, wounded him, and departed, leaving him half- dead.

Now, by chance, a certain priest came down that road.  And when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.  Likewise, a Levite, when he arrived at the place, came and looked, and passed by on the other side.  But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was.  And when he saw him, he had compassion.  So, he went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; and he set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.’”

 The rest of this story proves the Samaritan man was the true “neighbor” to this half dead person.  

He showed compassion, and Jesus said in verse 37,

“Go and do likewise.”

Jesus was asked the question of, “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” The question showed up nineteen times, in different ways, throughout His ministry.  

 

No one in the history of the world has ever lived and performed perfectly, 100% of the time.  Every single day, without fail, no one has loved God with all their heart, and their neighbor as himself.  

Impossible, because we are frail, humans who sin sometimes. 

 

We fall short in our sin, which is rebellion against God, and He deserves all the Glory.  Romans 3:23. 

 

We will never live up to perfection, but by God’s grace and mercy, you and I can strive to love God with all our heart, and with all our soul, with all our strength, and with all our mind, and our neighbor as ourselves.  

Luke 10:27. 

Be careful though.  

Decide today where you are at spiritually.  

Good?  

Bad?

or Forgiven? 

 

Like Clint Eastwood, the good one, we are only good because of Jesus.  If you and I do not love who we are in Christ, we will not have the capacity to love anyone.  Including our neighbor. 

 

Like Angel Eyes, in the movie, he was a murderer for hire.  

He was truly bad to the bone.  

We were like that too, before we met our Savior, Jesus.  

Some of us were master sinners, expert manipulators, and if we were addicted, we used and abused everyone around us.  

Especially our family.  We murdered them, without killing them. 

 

We became emotional stranglers, killers for hire.  

Choking out the family finances for our selfish gains. 

We did this to get what we wanted, no matter what the cost.  

The wreckage of our past is dead in a graveyard.  Once Jesus forgives us, the bones without a grave, can never be dug up.  

Nor can they be kept in a closet, to pull out to kill again.  

They are all under the Blood of Jesus Christ, when we repent of our killing attitudes and actions. 

 

Like the assassin, our murdering attitudes affected and then INFECTED all who were in our path.  

Our disease was thrust upon them, and they got sick.  

Sick of us, and then mentally, emotionally, and physically dying on the inside; we left them to die a slow, arduous death. 

 

In verse 29 of Luke 10, that lawyer wanted to justify himself when talking to Jesus.  He tried to cross-examine Jesus, so to speak, by asking,

“Who is my neighbor?” 

 

Then, Jesus tells His story.  Luke 10: 30-37. 

Look at what the Samaritan did!  This person was GOOD, not bad, and not ugly, in any way.  

He truly loved this man, unconditionally.  Fully.  Jesus shows here in this story, true love. 

 

The Samaritan did not ask for anything in return.  His motivations were pure.  This injured, and HALF-DEAD man, was not the Samaritan's close friend or family.  

The Samaritan did not know this dying man at all. 

Samaritan people did not get along with Jews.  

They were divided by racial and ethnic barriers.  For many reasons, the Jews called Samaritan’s “half-breeds.”  The Jews would send them away. 

 

Samaritans built their own temples which Jews considered Pagan.  

This feud grew and by the time Christ came, the Jews hated the Samaritans, so much so, that they would cross the Jordan River rather than travel through Samaria. 

After Israel’s fall to the Assyrians, they intermarried with the Assyrians, contrary to Deuteronomy 7: 3-5, that taught against these relationships in a marriage.  

This is one reason why the Jews hated the Samaritans.  

“You are dogs,” they would say. 

They treated them even worse than the vulgar name calling. 

 

I would consider the attitudes and behaviors of these people as: “UGLY.” 

Bad too, but ugly in their sins. 

 

We had the GOOD with the Samaritan.  

The BAD would be that priest who ignored the dying man.  

Some priest.  

Perhaps he should be demoted for his selfishness, and ignorance of the Law. 

The Levite, verse 32, came.  

He looked at the dying man’s condition and passed by on the other side.  

He was bad, but more so, cruel. 

The Samaritans were a constant source of difficulty to the Jews who rebuilt Jerusalem after returning from Babylonian captivity.  Ezra 4:10, and Nehemiah 4:12. 

These prejudices prevailed then and live today.  

Americans used to be gracious and loving to their neighbors.  I am not painting all Citizens of the United States as cruel and obnoxious.  I am trying to help us see how far we have come from the story in Luke, to today.  

In many ways, it is worse now. 

 

I know, because I grew up in the “Leave it to Beaver” era.  

Mom stayed home, cooked and cleaned, and prepared the house to be made into a home.  A respectful job and calling back then.  

Not to be ridiculed, or put down, because a “homemaker” was a true gift.  

 

In grade school, I Pledged my Allegiance to the Flag.  The Principle came across the loudspeaker every morning in “homeroom,” and prayed, in Jesus Name, Amen. 

 

Once some women (not all), in the 1960s decided to burn their bras, all hell broke loose spiritually in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.  

It became, the Land of the living dead, and the home of our Veterans of War, living on the streets in cardboard boxes.  

It took “bravery” to live on the streets of Chicago or the Bronx.  

I was homeless myself, and I know the looks down the noses of people, who thought I was not worth a handout.  

I have never begged for anything.  

Even when I was an addict, I still worked a job full time. 

 

Women’s liberation or the Feminist movement, was widely recognized as having begun in the sixties, but the emergence of various organizations with activism, focused on issues like reproductive rights, equal pay, and challenging traditional gender roles.  

“Tell that to Mrs. Cleaver and her husband Ward.”

Beaver Cleaver did not need a pronoun called he or whatever!

 

This is not a joke, or a put down regarding equal pay for equal work.

It is a spiritual decay of sorts.  

Tell me,

“Who leaves their front door unlocked in America today In 2025?”  

Anyone?  

No, of course not.  

This is not the era now.  This is the era of fear.  

 

How can we love our neighbor, if we do not even know their names?  

Communities have locked gates at night.  

The homeowners' associations charge a bunch of money every month to monitor the weeds in your flower bed, and then send you an eviction notice if you do not pull the “one” weed they photographed, within 24 hours.  

 

Neighborhood watch?  

How about watch your neighbor closely, and help them when you see a need arise.

 

This Samaritan had compassion for the dying man.  

Sympathetic pity, or feeling sorry for others, and feeling their pain, is what true love is all about. 

 

I do not want to be found as Good only, or Bad, or Ugly.  

Only forgiven.  

Daily, hourly, and minute by minute, if needed.  

 

Being cleansed by the Blood of the Lamb, Jesus, is better than any other spiritual dynamic that the world offers. 

 

The Denari was what the Good Samaritan gave to the innkeeper to aid in the healing of the beaten man.

One Denari in today’s monies is around $200.00.  

He gave two Denari.  

The average day’s wages then were one Denari. 

 

Today, a young 21-year-old air-conditioning man came to repair our system that was not working.  

It was 88 degrees outside today in Texas. Inside, without air, it got up to 76.  

Not a fun thing when I had been working outside all day building a chicken coop. 

 

He arrived, and within two minutes diagnosed the problem.  

 

I asked him his name, and he said, “Micah.” 

 

I responded, “Thats a Bible name.”  

He replied, “Jesus is good to me.” 

 

OH BOY, this is not about an air conditioner.  

My spiritual antennas were up. 

 

Once he finished the repair, he was loading his work truck, when I asked,

“Can I pray for you?” 

I shared what happened to me when I was 21, and he responded,

“I am glad I did not have to go through that.” 

He took off his hat, and humbled himself, and I prayed for him, and spoke encouragement to him.  

He was only 21 but had been a repair man since he was 17 out of high school.   

He was not a bleeding man on the side of the road.  He was not in need of anything, except, maybe, a prayer. 

 

He became a new friend to me.  

He is my neighbor.  

 

He works about 5 miles from where we live, but it is the “neighbor” attitude of love that makes us neighbors.  

It is Jesus which we have in common.  

 

I was so glad to have the air fixed, but happier to meet a young, 21-year-old Godly young man who is a hard worker.  

It reminds me of how things used to be, way back when.   

If a neighbor next door needed a cup of sugar, they went next door and knocked on the door.  The woman who was there, (homemaker, not home alone) saw the empty cup and smiled.  

She knew what she needed.  Sugar. 

No strings attached.  No expectations.  No monies exchanged hands. 

 

And as a good neighbor, you and I should mow the grass next door.  

If it is in need, do it.   

 

These are simple situations requiring simple answers. 

 

Find a need.  Fill the need. 

 

Like the Samaritan, just love people, regardless of how they look.  

No matter if they are Good, Bad, or Ugly.  

 

Perhaps, they will see your good works and good deeds and eventually become Forgiven by Jesus.  

 

I would rather see a sermon than hear one any day.  

 

“How about you, neighbor?” 

 

 Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Divine Moment in Time

December 27, 1974, at approximately Midnight: the events of this night would become a miracle.  

Not just any miracle.  

It saved two lives, all at once. 

 

Warning: Graphic Nature. 

 

The following account is real, and the names have been changed, somewhat, to protect the interests of those involved.  

The backstory to this event at Midnight must be discussed briefly for any of this to make sense. 

 

I was 18 years old.  My mother had died three years earlier from cancer, and I was already an out-of-control drug addict.  

An accident, waiting to happen.  

 

It turned out to be a spiritual and physical head-on collision with a gun. 

 

Six months before, in early July of 1974, a burglary took place.  I was with friends, fellow drug users and abusers, when we decided to go to my trailer house a few miles away to continue our party. 

Once we finished, we went back to our friend's house and discovered the entire house had been burglarized.  My girlfriend was a Marijuana dealer, and all her dope was gone, along with all her stereo equipment and booze. 

All four of us knew who did it.  

He had been to her house earlier to buy drugs.  We watched him go into her bedroom, score the Dope, and then leave.  He knew exactly where it was in her closet.  Nothing was disturbed in her room, except the box the Marijuana was in. 

 

Besides, my best friend David was a notorious burglar.  His method of operation was to take off the screen from a bedroom window, primarily in the back of the house, away from the main street and the front of the house. 

His methods were like fingerprints.  His fingerprints were all over this house, and so our next move was to call the police.  

The police arrived around two a.m. and searched the premises.  They concluded that there was not enough to charge anyone for this crime.  

Then they left. 

 

I was furious.  My girlfriend was also mad, mainly because the two pounds of Marijuana was fronted to her (like a consignment) from her dealer.  

Now she must come up with the value of all that Dope.  

It would have been sold in ¼ ounce baggies, for $15.00 per baggie.  You can do the math.  That was a bunch of money that never was earned.  

Now she is obligated to come up with the loss of the amount of monies and the profit, all on her own. 

 

I made a promise to her that July night.  

“If I ever see David ******* again, I will kill him!” 

 

This was almost a prophetic voice from within my demon- possessed heart and mind. 

 

Four months passed since the night of this burglary.  

It is now early November of 1974 when I decided to go and visit my Daddy.  He was living with a woman who was a policewoman. 

 

“How many of you know that Dope Fiends and PO-lice, do not get along?”   

(My opening line to inmates in prison when I preach sometimes, regarding the beginning of my sermon.) 

 

She did not like me, and I did not like her.  

I had only met her once, and this next event was the one time, until December 27th at midnight. 

 

I arrived at my Daddy’s apartment and ran up to the door.  (Meth makes you run and hide when necessary). 

Here is the scene.  

The policewoman is in the tiny kitchen cooking, and my Daddy is at the small breakfast nook table about 10 feet from the kitchen.  

She can hear our conversation.  

 

Remember that.

Daddy answered the door, and we sat at the small table.  

I hollered at my Daddy,

“I can’t believe that the %$#@**&^%^ police department who came out to investigate my girlfriend's house, did nothing to help us. It has been almost 4 months since the burglary, and they won’t help us at all.” 

I said,

“If I ever see David again, I am going to kill him!” 

 

My father replied, trying to comfort me, attempting to persuade me against such a violent thing.  He tried to settle me down.

But the Meth and my anger were getting the best of me.  

I left my Daddy abruptly. 

 

Fast forward: Literally, two weeks after this short meeting, my Daddy came out to my trailer, and was off to El Paso, Texas to be married to this cop. 

 

(That is another story, for another time). 

 

The day after seeing my Daddy and watching him drive away to go and get married, he was found dead.  

A single gunshot wound. To his head. 

 

I am going off the deep end of a pool of heinous and unspeakable evil after my Daddy’s death.

 

 I am completely out of control. 

 

Keep in mind, as I now approach December 27, 1974, just about four weeks since we buried my Daddy.  

I am a lunatic looking for prey. 

 

I found out, through a set of circumstances, that my enemy, David was back in town, selling the remaining Marijuana he had stolen from my girlfriend.  

When I overheard this news, I was off to kill David. 

I had mainlined 5 tabs of Purple Microdot Acid, (L.S.D.) and was high, but not so high that I didn’t know what I was doing.

I got in a car with my other friend, and off to a neighboring town a few miles away from where I was. 

I had been using a 38-caliber pistol for my armed robberies of late and was planning to use it on David.  

 

Now.  

Tonight.  

Soon, and very soon. 

 

We arrived at an arcade in this town, and I told my getaway driver to keep the motor running. 

As I walked into this two-story house that had been converted into an arcade, time seemed to slow down.  

Like in slow motion.

 

Yes, it was the drugs that caused this, but much of it was the anticipation of me wanting to shoot my best friend.  

And kill him, fulfilling a vow to my girlfriend.  

 

“If I ever see David again, I will kill him.” 

 

This promise was about to turn into a major problem. 

 

I walked down the narrow hallway, leading to the snack bar where David was supposedly working.  I entered the dimly lit room and saw him behind the counter.  No one else was in this area of the house except David, and a demon- possessed killer, namely me. 

David made eye contact with me from about 15 feet away, and he was smiling.  He was smiling because he had heard I had been looking for him for months and wanted to confront him about the burglary.  

He sold all my girlfriend's dope, so he knew I was out to get him. 

 

His smile seemed to say,

 

“Hey, Joe it is cool, we can work this deal out, right?” 

 

Wrong. 

 

Without saying a word, I am now standing point blank in front of David. 

I slowly pulled out my pistol from underneath my oversized shirt.  The gun was lodged just inside my jeans near my belt. 

I pointed the gun at David’s face, and the look of horror in his eyes was not describable. 

Fear and panic were written all over his face; his brown eyes were quivering from side to side. 

 

Two feet from my future victim, I pulled the trigger.  

It looked like two feet of fire and sparks coming out of the barrel of my 38.  

Slow motion was in full affect in my dilated eyes from the drugs. 

 

The first bullet hit his face, and I remember watching him clutch his face with both hands.  Blood was gushing out from his face through his fingers and dropping to the floor like a flood. 

 

Before he fell, I shot again.  

This time hitting him in his chest.  

The impact of the shot forced him to fly backwards in mid-air.  His feet were off the floor for two seconds before his bloody body hit the wood paneled wall nearby.  

I stood over his convulsing body, ready to unload the remainder of my four bullets, when I came to my senses.  Blood was pooling all around his head and torso. 

I heard screams from every room in this arcade.  Young teenagers were running through the front door, as I realized, it was time to go. 

 

To make a long story a bit shorter, I was arrested within two hours after this shooting.  

Taken to police headquarters in the town where I shot David, were several officers ready to interrogate me. In the back of the room, was the policewoman my Daddy had been dating.  

She was staring at me, as if she never knew me.  

Mystery.  

An unsolved mystery to this day, as to why my Daddy was murdered. 

Remember it had been just a few weeks before this December night, that we buried my Daddy.  

The pain from all of that was still fresh in my mind, as I took all my anger out on my best friend. 

I recall my getaway driver asking me on the way back to our home,

“Did you kill him?” 

I sat in silence.  Clutching my warm pistol, all I could think about was sweet revenge. 

 

John said to me,

“Did you hear the music that was playing when the gunshots rang out?” 

 

(Of course I didn’t, I was focused on murder, not music.) 

 

John continued to tell me that, precisely when the gunshots were fired, the song by Eric Clapton was playing on the jukebox inside the arcade.  He could hear the loud music because it was piped into the parking lot, to draw the young people inside, from outdoor speakers on the porch. 

 

The song played,

“I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot no deputy.  Yeah!  All around in my hometown, they’re trying to track me down, yeah.

They say they want to bring me in guilty, for the killing of a deputy.  For the life of a deputy but I say Oh, now, now, oh...I shot the sheriff, but I swear it was in self-defense.  Yeah, I say, I shot the sheriff, Lord, they say it is a capital offense.”

John told me at the very moment the song said,

“I shot the sheriff,” the two gunshots rang out.

Then the song continued, “but I did not shoot no deputy.” 

 

“Perfect timing,” he said.  

Well, the timing was real.  The shooting was real.  Jail is real too.  

David’s blood was real, and he was dying. 

 

When I was arrested, it was found out that my Daddy’s fiancé, who was there during the interrogation, was the one who put out the All-Points Bulletin on me. 

She was the one who overheard me that day when I was at their apartment, while she was in the kitchen cooking.  

She heard me say to my Daddy, in my frustration,

“If I ever see David again, I will kill him.”  

 

While patrolling, that fateful night in December, the news on her patrol car radio came with the news of a shooting in an arcade.  

“The victim is David *******, and the shooter was described by witnesses as a white male, six foot two with long brownish blond hair.”  

She knew it was me, and I was arrested rather quickly once they found me. 

She is, indeed, a cop.  

 

Cops listen.  Cops obey.  

Cops.  

 

My favorite pastime, sitting in the back of a cop car with handcuffs on. 

 

Miracle Number One: David lived.  

The first bullet hit his left cheek bone and lodged in his right jaw.  The second, more serious of the two wounds, blew out the aorta in his heart, and lodged in his spine.  He lost 64 pints of blood total, during and after surgery.  

There was a special blood drive to help save his life that early morning of December 1974. 

I received a two-year probated sentence for Conspiracy to Commit Murder, Aggravated Assault, and Attempted Murder.  All three charges carried a 25- to- life sentence.  

 

Miracle Number Two: I received probation.  

That is a story for another time. 

 

Miracle Number Three: 20 years after the shooting, God put me on the phone with David’s mother after all this time had gone by.  

She said to me while on the phone,

“Joe, I remember when your mother died, my son David went to the funeral with you that day.  And I heard about your Daddy dying.  But the night you hurt my son, I went to Parkland Hospital in Dallas, and they were taking my son David into surgery.  His blood was all over the floor under the gurney. 

While he was dying, and headed into surgery to save his life, I got down on my knees in my own son’s blood and prayed.  I forgave the person who shot him, not knowing it was you yet, Joe.  I forgave you because I am a Christian.”  

 

Wow, what could I say to her after that moment on the phone?  

With tears in my eyes, and all choked up, I told her how sorry I was for hurting her son and traumatizing the entire family.  We talked and finally she asked me, 

“Joe, will you do me a favor please?  

Will you pray for me and for my son David now?” 

 

(Remember, this was twenty years after the shooting.) 

 

Before I prayed, she told me that after David came out of surgery, in critical condition at first, he woke up out of a coma. He was in a coma for quite some time, and he ended up in a wheelchair for a season because the bullet that tore his heart valve in pieces, lodged near his spine.  He was temporarily paralyzed. 

 

“Joe, David never learned his lesson after that shooting. He never stopped using drugs, and I do not know where he is now.”   

 

(This call was in1994. David would have been 40 years old.  He was two years older than me when I shot him).

 

I had told her how I got saved by Jesus while in prison, and she was so happy to hear that, and thanked God over the phone with me for my salvation. 

 

She continued talking on the phone with me,

 

“Will you pray that my son will come back to Jesus, as he was raised in a Christian home, but he became the Prodigal Son to me and his Father.  Please, Joe, pray for reconciliation and restoration for me and for my son, okay?” 

With tears in my throat now, I prayed for her, and wept with her, and rejoiced with her for all that the Lord Jesus had done over the phone that day. 

 

God allowed me to bury my past.  He let me talk to her, to remind me that “Nothing is Impossible, for them that believe.” 

 

If God can do what you just read about, and bring healing to the broken hearts like he did with me and with my victim’s mother, He can, do what you need Him to do.  

 

If you hurt, cry out to Jesus.  

If you are in pain, cry out to Jesus.  

If you are doing okay today, still cry out to Jesus. 

 

What He did for me will never be forgotten. 

On a drug-fueled high, late on a December night, shots rang out. 

I didn't shoot a Sheriff.  I certainly did not shoot a Deputy of the law. 

I did shoot my best friend.  

 

I regret some things to this day.  

I regret the hurt I caused to those around me, and to my family.  

Not many of them left now. 

 

Before I knew Christ as Savior, I had a bunch of excuses and traumas to blame for my behavior. 

I do not hold any blame for anyone now.  I do not blame myself.  

I was a different person in 1974.  

Jesus made me into a new man when He saved my soul. 

 

As most people would say today,

“If I had it to do all over again, I would have done things differently.”  

 

We all would.  

But we can’t.  

Let us keep a posture of thanksgiving for all Jesus is doing and is planning to do in our lives. 

Yesterday is gone forever.  

Tomorrow is not promised.  

It is the “now” that we must live in and make the best out of a situation that seems hopeless. 

 

It was hopeless for one woman the night of that shooting.  

A mother.  

A mother who loved her son.  

He did not deserve what happened to him that night. 

 

What he deserves is to know that it was his praying mother, kneeling in his blood on a hospital tile floor, praying.  Praying for a miracle.  

She got hers.  I got mine.  

 

Let us believe for your miracle.  

Miracles are what God is all about. 

The fact that you are reading this story is a miracle.   

 

Jesus is not only the Lord of all, but He is also the Lord your God who is dealing wondrously with you and me.  

 

It is not a happen-stance that David lived.  

The phone call with his mother was not some random chance thing.  

It was Divine. 

 

It is truly a divine moment in time. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Pride Born of Hurt

If we have pride at any level, it can keep us from asking for what we need.  

We may have grown up in a family where we were ignored or disappointed.  We were afraid to ask for anything, for fear of some kind of retaliation or punishment. 

Our childhood needs that we had were rarely met, and this caused us to become self-reliant, to a degree.  These self-sufficient tasks we tried to do required us to do everything on our own.

We were determined never to ask anyone for help of any kind. 

 

This is not the normal response to this kind of human existence.  

Being ignored is a form of abuse.  

 

Never again would we be in a place where we needed to ask for any help whatsoever.  

This is a form of self-destruction, called pride, born out of our hurts and pains.  

It was never to be born at all.  

This pride was conceived in a spiritual womb, finally brought forth into our soul, by neglect, silence, and ignorance, on the part of the rearing in our childhood. 

 

I always remind myself that “we battle not with flesh and blood,” but as a child, I did not know anything spiritual.  

My home was just a house, begging to be called a home. 

 

There are four types of pride.  They are identified in different religious and psychological contexts. 

 

Pride of Timidity is characterized by fearing the judgment of others and overvaluing human respect. 

Pride of Sensitivity involves being overly concerned with self-love and how it’s affected by others’ opinions. 

Pride of Complacency (Vanity) manifests as an excessive desire for human admiration and a tendency to show off.  

In other words, “I have a need to be needed.” 

Finally, Pride of self-exaltation involves attributing one’s excellence to oneself, rather than to God. 

Timidity is rooted in fear of what others might think, leading to over-reliance on external validation.  

No true humility in this type of pride. 

Sensitivity pride manifests as a heightened awareness of criticism and a tendency to see oneself as more vulnerable than others.  

This sets off a defense mechanism, unaware and unable to receive any correction, even if it is constructive. 

Complacency leads to excessive desires for human admiration and the need to “show off” at times. 

Self-exaltation is dangerous and attributes one's own achievements and gifts or talents based on personal achievements and efforts.  

God gets no Glory in this type of pride. 

 

There is no need to do a deep dive on all of this, as my point is a simple one, based on God’s Holy Word. 

 

Proverbs 11: 2 declares,

“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom.”

 

James 4:6…

“But He gives more grace.”

  Therefore, it says…

“God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

 

I ought to know all about pride.  

Pride took me to addictions and finally prison.  

Pride cost me everything, because I thought I was above the law.  

I thought I was above disease from inserting a dirty 26.5-gauge needle into my vein in my arms.  Once all the veins in my left arm collapsed, I had to mainline Meth into the veins on the tops of my hands and feet.  

Good luck covering up those canker sores.  What was I to do, wear gloves in the summertime, and boots?

 

Matthew 7: 13-14,

“Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it.  Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.”

 

The path I was on, prior to accepting Jesus into my heart while in prison, was a wide, broad, and rocky road.  The twists and turns of Meth addiction, and the rocks and potholes of violence were killing me.  

The problem was, I did not care.  

And pride kept me from asking for help of any kind.  Not much maturing in an eighteen-year-old junkie.  

 

Destruction, according to the Bible, is: complete ruin, annihilation, loss, and moral devastation.  

 

 It is the consequences of sin, leading to God’s judgment, which is also a serious, eternal, and spiritual destruction from God.   

 

“He would have none perish, but that ALL should come unto repentance.”

2nd Peter 3:9

There isn’t anything a human being can do to stop a $200.00 a day Meth habit, on his own.  

Yes, we can seek treatment, but being clean and sober, without the Joy of the Lord Jesus, just makes us a dried-out addict.  

There is nothing worse than an angry addict who sits around all day, thinking of ways to avoid going back to this horrible lifestyle. 

 

This is where pride plays a big part.  

Pride is the way of the world.

  1st John 2: 15-16,

“Do not love the things in the world.  If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  For all that is in the world-the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life-is not of the Father but is of the world.”

 

Can’t get past this mighty Word. 

Pride corrupts the entire person.  

It did ruin me.  

It was more than addiction that fueled my issues.  The abuse and the abandonment I felt when my mom and dad died, were only part of the overall prideful attributes I fed into. 

 

I thought I was invincible.  

Drugs played a part in this, but at 18 years old, I felt nothing could harm me.  

Yes, I was broken hearted, but I did not care what the police did to me.  

I did not care that I ended up in prison.  

This lends to the worst of the pride examples called, “pride of self-exaltation.”  

 

I became my own God.

 Excluding the One who eventually saved my soul.  

 

I did not know He existed back then, and I did not care.  

 

How stupid was I to stand on my own mother’s grave, the same day we buried her, and without anyone around, I stood on the pile of sod and dead flowers on her grave.  

I screamed and cursed a God I did not know.  

 

This self-exaltation was the epitome of PRIDE, in my wicked heart.  

Blaming a God that I did not believe existed, proved my heart was still open to a God, because I cried out in my pain and frustration. 

 

I believe that God was trying to get my attention at that graveyard, as I cried, screamed, and blasphemed His Holy Name. 

 

He did not send lightning bolts that day.  He sent mercy, but I was too far gone to receive it then. 

 

My broad path was leading me to destruction, but Jesus Christ allowed this destruction because of my free-will choices, and He was trying to get me to come to an end of myself.  

I call it the Joe-pride.  

 

I was full of myself, and I hated myself at the same time. 

 

Jesus said,

“And so, I tell you, keep on asking, and you will be given what you ask for.  Keep on looking, and you will find it.  Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened.  For everyone who asks, receives.  Everyone who seeks, finds.  And the door is opened to everyone who knocks.”  

Luke 11: 9-10

 

Though I screamed and cursed His Name, that was a form of asking.  

 

Though I saw through spiritual eyes that were blind to grace, I kept looking in my darkness.  I knocked on every door the world offered, and those doors opened wide for my drugs, lusts, and violent nature.

 I fell into that trap like I was falling in an open elevator door without a floor to hold me. 

I crashed and burned in my sin.  

I did not die, because God had a purpose in my selfish pride. He broke me and humbled me in the cotton fields of prison.  

He protected me, like I was in a force-field of His Love. 

This message is not designed to make any of us comfortable or content about where you are in this thing called life.  

 

It is written to keep you and I from going into a spiritual coma.  

It is fashioned for holiness, not happiness.  

For you to be uncomfortable, not complacent. 

 

To inspire you to always seek Jesus and distinguish yourself as separated from this world and its desires, lusts, and fears.  

 

Whether you are ready or not, He is coming back.  You can’t stop that from happening.  

What you can do is be ready.  

 

 Jesus said in John 14: 2-6,

“‘In My Father’s house there are many mansions.  If it were not so; I would have told you.  For I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and will receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.  And where I go, ye know the way.’

And Thomas said unto Him, ‘Lord, we know not where ye go; how can we know the way?’  Jesus said unto him, ‘I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.  No one comes unto the Father, but by Me.’”

 

Fact.  

This can’t be disputed by anyone on this planet.  

He is coming back. 

Thomas traveled with Jesus for three years, and when Jesus’s life was at risk by returning to Judea, after Lazarus had died, it was the Apostle Thomas who courageously told his fellow disciples they should go with Jesus.  

No matter what the danger.  No matter the cost.  

 

Like other disciples, Thomas deserted Jesus during the crucifixion. 

 

After Jesus rose from the dead, Thomas was still not convinced and wanted to touch His wounds to see for himself the truth.  His faith was based solely on what he could touch and see for himself.  

That too, is a form of pride. 

I had to learn the hard way about all the elements of pride.  

To be a servant of the Most High God, we must humble ourselves.  

 

I do not know what it will take for mankind to be

humbled.  

Catastrophe?  Heartache?  Pain?  Abandonment?  

Who knows.  God knows.  

And, because of our free-will choices, we may pay a heavy price to be humbled. 

 

I would have loved to have avoided prison.  I wish I had not done the things I did, to get what I got. 

 

We all must come to a place of giving up our prideful self-sufficiency.

We must be willing to ask God for His help.  

We can’t ask for help just once and be done with it.  

Knock and keep on knocking.  

We must be persistent and ask repeatedly as the needs arise. 

 

When God answers us because we were patient to wait, we will always acknowledge it was Jesus who answered.

He deserves all the Glory. 

We may have been born into a family that did not recognize us, and pride entered in as we grew.  This may have been us becoming a product of our own environment, but God can change everything and heal all that we went through.  

 

Pride will always be your enemy.  

Pride may have been borne in your hurts. 

I would have rather been born free than to have gone through the pains of life.  

Though we were not born free, we can be free.  

It costs us nothing.  No price to pay.   

 

“Jesus paid it all, and all to Him I owe.  Sin had left a crimson stain; He washed it white as snow.” 

 

I was born with pride, born out of pain.  

Life offers pain in various ways.  

 

If we can eliminate pride, then the pain has no place to grow.  

The placenta of pride needs fuel to live.  Stop feeding the baby, and the pride will die, before it is fully grown. 

 

It is our choice.  

It was His choice to die for you and me.  

Jesus died so we could live.  

Now, and forever.

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Born Once, Die Twice; Born Twice, Die Once

The title of this tells it all. 

If we have never received Jesus Christ, and the work on the Cross of Calvary that was completed through Him, then when we die physically.

That is it.  Our eternal state is sealed. 

John 3: 3-7:

“Jesus answered and said to him, (Nicodemus, a man, and a ruler of the Jews) ‘Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.’”

Nicodemus said to Him,

“How can a man be born when he is old?  Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?”

Jesus answered,

“Most assuredly, I say to you, (like truly, truly or verily, verily that Jesus used too at times) he was emphasizing the truth and authority of what He was about to say, indicating it was a statement of great importance and certainty. 

(This is not a casual statement by Jesus.  It is mandatory to listen and learn, with eternal emphasis.) 

Meaning Hell or Heaven: our choice. 

Jesus continues,

“Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.  That which is born of the flesh is flesh, (water birth naturally) and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.”

(The born-again message of the rebirth from death unto life in the spirit, from darkness unto light, and from Hell to Heaven, eternally.) 

 

Jesus continues again,

“Do not marvel (be surprised at what He says) that I said to you, you must be born again.  The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes.  So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

The analogy of the wind: 

The Holy Ghost being compared here, is like the wind, which blows where it wants.  The verse emphasizes that the Spirit’s work is free and cannot be controlled by humans. 

The wind’s effects are observable and can be heard too.  The wind itself is invisible.  Similarly, the Spirit’s work in salvation (John 3:3) is felt, but cannot be fully understood. 

The wind’s path is unpredictable, and so is the Spirit’s work in our salvation. 

The wind’s effects are perceptible, and so are the effects of the Spirit’s work in salvation. 

This is beyond human control, and so is the new birth. 

The best example is my story. 

 

I was the worst of the worst, in my opinion. 

Driven by death in my family, I became a psychotic, demon- possessed drug addict. 

Mom’s death from cancer at my ripe young age of 15, started the dominoes to fall. 

My daddy’s murder, three years after mom died, put me over the edge. 

I committed two attempted murders in the span of time from 1974-1976.  One was a shooting I perpetrated against my best friend.  The second, while on probation, was against a police officer. 

 

I was a self-destructive, angry, addicted, broken-hearted young man. 

I had great excuses for becoming a sinner who was beyond the pale. 

However, on Mother’s Day Morning, in 1977, while in the most notorious prison in Texas back in that era, I heard the Wind of the Holy Spirit. 

He met me in my cell when I was by myself. 

He spoke to me in my heart. 

Not verbally, but in my heart of hearts.

I did not know it was Him yet, but I knew it was supernatural.  It was, to me, more than a wind.  It was a CAT 5 hurricane of the Spirit. 

I felt it.  I could sense it.  I could understand it, to a degree. 

I was going to commit suicide within seconds. 

But I was arrested by the Holy Ghost. 

 

He spoke clearly into my heart. 

“Joseph, I love you, just the way you are.” 

Rather than jumping to my death off the third floor (tier) of this prison block, I made my way, (gently being led by the Holy Spirit who arrested me spiritually that morning, unlike my physical arrests in my past that were violent) to the Prodigal Son Chapel inside this prison and then, gave my heart to Jesus Christ through repentance. 

I was truly Born Again in the Spirit of God. 

 

Just like a bullfrog and the butterfly, they went from a tadpole to frog, and from a caterpillar in a cocoon, to a beautiful butterfly. 

The cocoon, in my opinion, is like a resting place or protective place of growth.  From a safe place, to a free place, to fly away into the Heavens. 

For me, I was in a dangerous place, not in a cocoon, but in a maximum-security prison, and was transformed in the Spirit to a new man in a holy place called church inside a prison. 

 

The good news is, you do not have to be an addict or a prisoner in prison to know Jesus.  He would not want you to suffer the way I did. 

I did it to myself. 

My sin took me farther than I wanted to go, kept me longer than I wanted to stay, and cost me more than I was willing to pay. 

In God’s eyes, there is not a sin that we can do that is so big that God can’t forgive.  But there is no sin too small, that does not need to be forgiven. 

The blaspheming of the Holy Spirit is the only unpardonable sin.   

I wrote this:  Thank God for the children who were either raised by loving, nurturing Christian parents early on, and as they grew, they maintained their walk with God, all their lives.  Or the young person who, around the age of 12-14, sensed the winds of the Holy Spirit showing them their need to be born again as well.  Under conviction, they surrendered to Jesus.  Without the damage of addiction, incarceration and insanity I went through.  This is a better testimony, in my opinion because they have avoided, with God’s help, the lifestyle I was in and that was so destructive.   

 

It is like going into God’s auto body and mechanic shop for repair. 

Some of us only have, in our minds, dings and a few dents and in need of a tune up because our spark plugs are a bit dirty. 

Then, like me, some need a new engine, transmission and a fully paint job because I have made a wreck out of my life. 

 

It cost me more than money to know Jesus.  I needed the shop for repairs and rebuilding by God. 

It would be better to spend less time in the shop, because you understood the need for Christ early on.  You have avoided a bunch of heartache. 

Does not mean you won’t have trials.  You will. 

Because Jesus is your Lord, you will overcome without the spiritual scars I have.  

Mine were self-inflicted. 

 

You are either a caterpillar or a frog. 

Frogs go from one lily pad to the other when they are grown.  As a tadpole they swim and eat until their metamorphosis.  A little caterpillar crawls, and avoids many predators, but ends up in a safe place (church as a child) growing and growing and eventually sprouts wings and flies into God’s Will. 

Both are born again. 

But I think I was the frog.  Hopping from one broken heart to the next addiction, and even prison.  I did not learn as a tadpole what to do. 

I was like the frog put into a pot of cold water, and then having the heat turned on slowly.  I did not feel the effects of addiction and brokenness, because it was hidden in the cold water of pain. 

Once I got acclimated to the water, the heat of life was turned up (prison) and before I was totally scolded and burned alive, I jumped out of the boiling waters of life and the trials that come and found refuge. 

I cooled off and received Christ. 

The frog had metamorphosis from tadpole to frog.  I had mine too. 

But it was tadpole to frog, frog to boiling water, and then the hot water to the cool hands of Jesus the Christ. 

I am glad I was not just born one time in this life, from my mother’s womb only.  I am grateful I had the honor from God to be born-again, so I would only die once in this flesh. 

If I had not met Jesus when I did, I would have died twice.  Once in the flesh, and the second time, without Christ as Savior and my name written in the Lamb’s book of Life, I would have died twice.  The second time would have been for eternity, with no hope of ever being with the Lord again. 

My fate would have been sealed. 

Eternal damnation and separation from God forever, in a place called Hell. 

 

Where are you at?  Where do you live spiritually? 

 

Are you a caterpillar waiting for a lizard to eat you? 

Are you a frog or tadpole getting swallowed up in sin? 

Jesus said,

“YOU must be born-again.”

 

If I were you, and I am not, I would run to the cocoon, or swim to the lily pad and grow up. 

Born once, die twice; Born twice, die once. 

Your choice. 

Hop into His arms.  Fly to His resting place.  He wants to hide you under the shadow of His wings and hold you in the palm of His hands.  Nail scarred hands.   

Wounds that never heal, remain a scar, beyond the flesh wound.  It is a scar deep inside our soul. 

 Wounds that are healed by Jesus, may have a scar.  But the scar is only a reminder of our sin.  It is under the Blood of Jesus. 

Forgiven. 

The scar never goes any deeper than the memory of sin. 

Why remember it at all? 

It is gone, as far as God is concerned.

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

 

Restoration Prison Ministry, May 2025 Newsletter

May- 2025

Dear Partners,                                          

 

The ministry trip to the Northwest is happening on May 28th through June 4th. 

 

So much is happening that God has His Thumbprint on, it is worth sharing just one thing. 

The Santiam Correctional Institution in Salem, Oregon, is where I first began in 1992. 

I have shared before how this began in a broom closet in the prison which was converted into a small library.  It held 4 chairs and that was it. 

In less than a month, the tiny room had standing room only, and I had to conduct two services to accommodate all the men who were coming to hear about Jesus Christ. 

 In less than six months, the ministry was moved into a Multi-Purpose Building across from the “yard” (recreation area for the inmates).  Revival broke out there.  Over 150 men were coming each week. 

 The latest story there is this. 

That original building I spoke about, is under construction, and the small chapel that has been used during the remodel, will only hold 25 men comfortably. 

Since the big building will not be done when I arrive in a few weeks, the Chaplain is moving the chapel to one of the vacant dorm rooms where men lived before it became vacant. 

 So far, the weekly attendance has grown with more room for men to come to this dorm room, and with announcing the ministry I am bringing for the last two weeks, they expect the dorm to be packed.  It will hold around 80 men, so the Lord is allowing a remodel and partial lock-down, to have a bigger chapel for the ministry to win souls in. 

 Yes,

“All things work together for good, to those who love God, and are the called according to His purpose.”

Romans 8:28.

 It is working out for the good, just in time to bring God’s Word to the lost souls at Santiam Prison in Salem, Oregon. 

 After this, I will conduct another service across the street from Santiam, on Friday evening May 30th, and I expect a full house in this prison called Oregon State Correctional Institution. 

From there, the next day, I will travel over Mt. Hood, to Central Oregon, to another prison, and beyond. 

 Many souls will come to these meetings.

Please pray for Salvations, Healings, and Miracles to happen. 

 

I have been able to purchase several cases of Study Bibles for the Texas Prisons I minister at. 

This order has been fulfilled, but I still need the same Bibles for the Oregon prisons I will be preaching in. 

I expect the altars to be full of lost souls in need of Jesus as their Savior, and for healings of broken hearts too. 

80 Bibles would cover the need for this trip.

I believe in the support and prayers that my faithful partners always provide for the lost in these prisons. 

I need a ten-day window to order them and ship them to Oregon.

Time is ticking.  

It would be a blessing to hand them to the new Christians who receive Christ as their Savior, while attending the services in the chapels. 

 

Please pray and consider helping me with this endeavor. 

All in all, I will visit a total of 7 prisons and conduct a total of 8 chapel services in all these prisons combined. 

From there, I will preach in a church in Idaho and am believing for God to move in His Power there as well. 

I will start this preaching trip in Vancouver, Washington on the day I arrive on the 28th, Wednesday.  

Please pray there are no flight delays keeping me from being in church on time. 

So much is happening with this trip, it is hard to explain the spiritual side of it all. 

As always, we as believers in Jesus, have a target on our spiritual backs. 

This is a spiritual target that Satan would love to hit the bullseye on and keep us from doing God’s will. 

This is for all believers in Jesus, not just the ministers, like me, who dare travel to preach to societies downtrodden. 

 

I have been under attack in my health, in such a way that I need a miracle in my body prior to this trip.  I have never been beaten down in this way, prior to a travel date upcoming like this. 

 

Currently I am fighting the good fight of faith. 

 

This physical issue is under prayer by many who I have asked to pray, so I am asking you as well. 

“The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man, avails much.”

James 5:16.

 I need MUCH healing.

Jesus is our Healer. 

I understand distractions, and situations in life that try and muddy the waters in our lives.  It seems that, the more we try to do what God wants us to do, the storms get bigger. 

Usually when I fight these kinds of battles prior to a trip, the Lord moves in a very powerful way, once I get going.  I expect the same on this trip. 

I will travel over 1,500 miles by car to accomplish this sweep of Oregon, Washington and Idaho. 

 

Please keep me in prayer over this. 

 

Remember, there will come a day that we lay our “soul-winner’s” crown at the feet of Jesus. 

You, and your consistent help, adds the jewels of Heaven in your own crown. 

They shine brightly, because you decided to sacrifice a lot in your life, to see people saved. 

There is no greater healing than the healing of a person’s soul. 

John 3: 3 declares…

“Most assuredly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

 

Jesus said this, and it is my mandate from Him, to deliver the Good News that Jesus Saves.   

I appreciate all you do, and have done, for years, to help this ministry to the lost and undone.  

 

Society may have locked up men for their crimes. 

For good reason. 

They deserve the time for the crime. 

 

So did I, in 1976. 

 

In some of the minds of those who prosecuted, judged, and handed down the sentences of many, the men are a lost cause. 

 

“Throw away the key.” 

 

Well, Jesus is The Key that unlocks the door to the heart. 

 

No matter what, we have all sinned.

 

I am just grateful I was given a second chance by God, to know Him, and the fellowship of some of His sufferings. 

I understand now, and I will never take for granted, the opportunity to live outside of prison. 

 

Prison is and can be a state of mind for many who do not live in a physical prison. 

There is nothing worse than to feel like we are on “death row” in our emotions, and in our sufferings. 

 

Jesus is Our Answer, after all. 

He loves all. 

 

He needs all of us to do our best, as He gives us mercy and grace to live another day. 

 

 Thank you for your continued support and prayers.

 

To God be the Glory, for the good things He hath done! 

 Sincerely,

 Joe Wilkins 

Shame on Who?

Romans 8:1 declares,

 

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.” 

 

Let us examine this, because it would be great if all guilt, condemnation, and shame left us the moment we accepted Jesus Christ as our Savior. 

There is no quick fix to this, and it is not instant oatmeal, either. 

 

The truth to this verse,

“To those who are in Christ, who do not walk according to the flesh.” 

 

Nothing good comes from our flesh, and this is one of the big reasons many Christians can’t shed this thing called shame. 

 

Let’s look at the differences between these barriers. 

Guilt:

First the cause of the guilt. 

Suppose you and I act against our conscience and withhold information on our tax returns.  It may not catch up with us for a couple of years, but when it does, it is painful. 

When we are held accountable for our lie, it becomes public knowledge that we lied and stole from the Government.  Your guilt is now well known. 

In the light of being caught, the pain of shame enters in. 

 

There is no guilt in trying our best to win a race or compete in business.  If we lose the race or do not get the business contract we hoped for, there is no guilt. 

Yet, because the door had been opened for shame a long time ago, we start to muddle in our mind's things like,

“If I had just worked harder and prepared better for that race.” 

Or

“Had I spent more time dotting the “I’s” and crossing the “T’s,” maybe things would of happened different for me in business.” 

Back to the “shoulda- coulda- woulda” syndrome, trying to go back in the past, and fix things. 

The past is the past. 

It is hard to move on in the quicksand of shame when it hits your heart.  You can be drowning and not know it until it is too late.  It is a slow fade. 

Shame is like a disease that is terminal, but we never die from it. 

We only live with it and suffer its consequences. 

Like a ball and chain in the spirit. 

 

The problem with this “stinking thinking” is that, Biblically, we can’t turn back the clock. 

 

Now, let us look at shame for what it is exactly. 

Some shame is justified; some shame is not. 

There are some situations where shame is exactly what we should feel.  And there are some situations where we shouldn’t feel shame at all. 

 

Most would say that an outright liar ought to be ashamed. 

 People would say that the long-distance runner, who did not win the race, should not be ashamed.  They gave it their best shot. 

Disappointment is healthy, but not shame. 

The Bible makes clear that there is a shame we ought to have, and a shame we ought not to have.  I am going to call the one, “misplaced shame.” 

The other is named, “well- placed shame.” 

 

Misplaced shame is the shame you feel when there is no good reason to feel it.  Biblically, this means the thing you feel ashamed of is NOT dishonoring to God; or that it is dishonoring to God, but you did not have a hand in it. 

 

In other words, misplaced shame is shame for something that is good, something that does not dishonor God at all. 

You did not have a sinful hand in this shame.  This kind of shame is not something we should accept. 

As little children, we did not know how to avoid accepting it, when it came from our parents, perhaps. 

 

“It was not your fault, the divorce happened.” 

 

Many young children and teenagers, who are part of a broken family, tend to blame themselves for the divorce.  This is not fair to them, to carry guilt and shame for something they did not do.  Human nature can be wicked and confusing at times.   

 

“Where are the adults in the room of despair in a broken home?” 

 

Shame is defined as:

Painful, self-conscious emotion arising from the perception of having done something dishonorable, improper, or unworthy. 

 

This often leads to feelings of inadequacy and a desire to hide or withdraw from life itself. 

We have heard in and around our ears as a child,

“Shame on you.” 

Well, shame hung on the Cross for our sins, and the sins committed against us in this life. 

Jesus was not a shame-filled Savior.

He took all shame and bled out for it, along with all the other sinful deeds mankind can create. 

Accepting shame, is saying, “I am at fault, even though I did not do it.” 

 

Jesus took our shame, whether it is self-inflicted or not. 

He took it all. 

 

Feeling humiliated and embarrassed is a negative emotion rooted in shame.  It is the belief that we did something wrong, and we must be flawed.  We were blamed for it, so we must own it. 

This is a lie. 

Lies come from the evil one, and those used by the deceiver of the brethren.  Satan.  The father of all lies. 

That is all he knows how to produce. 

The old saying is, “You are what you eat.”  Okay. 

“What about you are what you hear?” 

 

My mother doted over my older brother, the first born.  She was enamored by his matching black hair she had.  She loved him, but I believe she loved him too much. 

How so?

She would say to me over and over,

“Joseph, why can't you be more like your brother?  You could make good grades in school like him, if you would apply yourself and study more.” 

 

Sticks and stones broke every bone in my emotions after this constant comparison to my brother. 

I felt like I was hit by a two by four board across my face with that statement. 

 

Have you ever seen a mule hit between his eyes with a board?

Well, try and imagine the look on the poor mule’s face. 

I had that look every day of my young life. 

Always trying to compete with a smart, good looking, older brother. 

 

What about the other part, the stones? 

I am done with the sticks.  Well, the brutal words, and the physical abuse I endured, did qualify me as a stone. 

I was whipped with the metal end of a flyswatter, drawing blood at times. 

It was not a rock. 

But like many in the Bible, I was being stoned to death with a device used to kill horse flies. 

I guess I shouldn’t have snuck by the screen door in the summer months, trying to cool off. 

Might as well have used a large, oversize bug strip with the sticky fly goo, to catch me in midflight.  I could have avoided the flyswatter, and just stayed hung out to die, not dry. 

 

Shame. 

 2 Timothy 1:8 declares,

“Do not be ashamed then of testifying to our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but take your share of suffering for the Gospel in the Power of God.”

 

What this text means is; that if you feel shame for testifying about Jesus, you have a misplaced shame. 

We ought not to feel shame for this. 

Christ is honored when we speak well of Him. 

He is dishonored by fearful silence. 

 

So, it is not a shameful thing to testify, but a shameful thing not to. 

 

Where does most of our real shame come from? 

 

Experiences that were negative or abusing. 

Words do hurt. 

So do fists or slaps across the face as a 12-year-old boy. 

I speak from experience. 

 

Yes, we battle not with flesh and blood.  I did not know Jesus at 12, so I blamed a mother who was abusive towards me. 

 

It is the silence that killed me, not the whippings. 

 

This silent treatment, after my crimes against the house rules, was destroying my spirit. 

“Ignore me some more, Mom.  Go ahead, and do not talk to me for a week, if that will make you feel more powerful.” 

 

I thought these things back then, but never voiced out loud how I felt. 

Condemnation refers to a judicial act of declaring someone guilty as charged, deserving of punishment, and ultimately separation from God. 

This often stems from disobedience and sin. 

Sin will take us farther than we want to go. 

 

It took me all the way to a penitentiary and kept me longer than I wanted to stay.  It certainly cost me more than I really wanted to pay.  It cost me my freedom, and so much more.

I was a degenerate.  I proved my mother correct! 

I didn’t amount to anything, just like she said to me, repeatedly. 

 

She said, “You will never amount to a hill of beans, Joseph Bradley.” 

 

Whenever my middle name was inserted, I knew I was in trouble. 

 

I amounted to what she said.  Because of the lies I believed about turning out to be worthless, I did so. 

 

In fact, I remember wanting to be bad, just to make her feel successful in her prophesying. 

She said, “You will never become anything, but what you are right now, Joseph.  You sicken me to death.” 

 

Well, she died from Cancer when I was 15. 

 

The whippings stopped after that. 

I guess I really did sicken her to death. 

 

I will take the blame for that one.

 

See, words do hurt. 

They pierce our hearts to the depths of our young souls. 

They hurt when we are elderly. 

I heard those hurtful words when I was a foster care manager for the elderly.  The son or daughter who visited their Mom or Dad, who were in their late eighties, would verbally abuse them. 

Here they are, in their late 50’s, acting like little children who never got their way. 

They would say things like,

“Why are you just sitting there in that wheelchair?  Get up and exercise.  What are you going to do, just sit all day and eventually die Dad?” 

 

Some of the elderly parents would die under my watch at times. 

It was not old age that killed them. 

They were dead, the moment their children left this so-called visit. 

 

They died but still live on for a short season. 

 

I watched them, after the verbally abusive visit, cower down in their wheelchair, and refuse to eat.  Some starved themselves to death.  The one man I spoke of, who would not get out of his wheelchair, only lasted two more weeks. 

The doctors said, “It was natural causes.” 

I beg to differ that diagnosis. 

It was the harsh words of criticism and ridicule that killed them. 

 

Slowly, but surely, they died. 

Some of the foster care folks, cried when they knew they were going to get a visit from their grown children.  The children always called in advance.  This abuse must have happened long before I was honored to take care of them. 

 

Guilt.  Shame.  Condemnation.  Take your pick. 

 

We can ignore how we feel today or take it to Jesus in prayer. 

 

We can pretend it does not exist, but it lives. 

 

Charles Dickens said,

“This boy is Ignorance.  This girl is Want.  Beware of them both, and all their degree, but most of all, beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is ‘Doom,’ unless the writing be erased.” 

 

You and I can erase our doom and gloom of shame.  It can be washed away by the Blood of Jesus, in time. 

 

I did not really speak of the word peace. 

The fact is, most people who live in shame, have no peace.  So, I can’t speak about peace, fully, until we get past the shame barriers. 

 

Some of us have walls.  Invisible walls.  We can’t see your walls. 

You can see every brick. 

Each one has a name and a timestamp on them. 

They seem to be hard as stone. 

They are for now. 

But, when Jesus kisses your heart, and holds you tight in the Spirit, another brick leaves you. 

The wall starts coming down.  Like in Jericho. 

It is time to see the ruins of shame reside where they belong. 

 

In a pile of pathetic lies. 

 Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

 

Expecting the Unexpected

                                                   

 

If unexpected events in life are a natural part of human experience, then why is it so shocking? 

If, suddenly, a horrible crisis comes our way, we all react differently in reasonably different emotions. 

Some scream.

Many cry. 

Others are in shock and can’t feel or say a thing. 

These are all real, but different. 

It depends on the tragedy or issue, and the degree of severity they bring. 

Nevertheless, it all amounts to the same. 

Unexpected. 

If you or I inherited a large sum of money, won the lottery, or were given a huge salary increase or bonus, we would react too. 

In an entirely different way. 

There would be brain cells exploding in the euphoria of being free from debt and financial responsibility, to a degree. 

Case in point: 

The death of my mom, when I was 15, was expected because of the 9 months of suffering with liver cancer. 

I watched all of it, day by arduous day.

This expected tragedy was coming to an end. 

Her death in 1971.

 

My father, on the other hand, was murdered when I was 18. 

Unexpected, but still horrible. 

 

These two situations brought different reactions from me. 

 

Anger and bitterness regarding my mother. Mostly against a God, I did not even know. 

 

Violence and insanity, on my part over my father. 

 

So, how can we expect the unexpected in a good way? 

How in the world can a human being expect something that is out of reach, or catches us totally by surprise? 

Is it good, or bad in our mind? 

 

We would never expect something negative for sure.  Yet, the negative comes at us, like a wave in the ocean that tries to take us under in its ability to tow us away at times. 

 

In the same way, expecting God to do something for us, in us, and through us, is different because it requires faith from us. 

 

Yes, faith. 

 

I didn’t know about faith at fifteen years old. 

My eighteen-year-old addicted self didn’t know how to handle life. 

I hated life.

 Life hit the fan, and I had to deal with the mess it left upon my heart. 

 

I hated myself as well. 

 

There must be a call to action in all of this, because the title of this story depicts an oxymoron in my eyes. 

It was not Jumbo shrimp.  It wasn’t deafening silence or even bittersweet. 

 

It was an unexpected event I hated.   

 

Why would any of us want to “expect the unexpected?” 

 

It is not behind door number one or two.  It must be behind door number 3.  In the game show in 1968, “Let's Make a Deal” with Monty Hall, some contestants would pick that elusive door number that had behind it: 

“A Brand-New Car!”  

 

Then, unfortunately, the other contestant, who dreamed of replacing his wreck-of-a-car at home, got the live mule with a stuffed-toy monkey on its back. 

Lovely. 

He was offered to have the deal challenged by having Monty Hall offer a possibly better gift. 

Another chance at a different door. 

He upped the ante by doubling down on the next deal with the host.  He lost and had to trade his “already won” room full of new furniture, appliances, and a trip to Acapulco, for a monkey-mule.   

I guess he could ride the real mule to work after discarding the stuffed monkey, if his old car broke down.  It cost him more to keep the donkey than putting gas in his car. 

This loss was surely a monkey-off-his-back. 

Not really.  He got a blender for a conciliation prize. 

 

I call this greed.  Better yet, stupidity. 

Take what you have won and be thankful and go home.  

How so, in an unexpected thing? 

James 4:13-14:

 

“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit.’  Whereas, you do not know what will happen tomorrow.  For what is your life?  It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.”

James goes on to make a point. 

Do not be arrogant in boasting.  It is evil to boast. 

 

And further in verse 17 he says: 

 

“Therefore, to him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin.”

 

Well, it is sin to God too. 

 

Since we can’t control any of the things in life, good or bad; we should learn how to navigate through both with our faith and trust in Jesus Christ. 

He is there in the boat with the storm.  He is there when your diagnosis was deemed a mistake and just a shadow on the ex-ray results. 

He is there.  Always there. 

 

When the unexpected happens, we’re prone to either become exasperated or to make excuses.  

I have run out of excuses to make a deal with God. 

 

Case in point: 

The unexpected happened. 

It is 1997.  My bride- to- be, was in the passenger seat up front, in my 1996 Chevrolet Caprice Classic.  Her mother was sitting behind me as I drove.  Her sister was sitting behind my fiancé. 

We had just left Lincoln City, a beach town in Oregon.  We had not been on the highway for more than 15 minutes when the “unexpected happened.” 

 

We have just bought hot coffee at McDonalds. 

(Remember the coffees).

This girl, in a small car, passed us on a hill.  No-passing zone.  She had to do 75 miles per hour when I noticed her car in the corner of my eye. 

She zoomed past us illegally, with a baby standing in the seat next to her up front.  I remember seeing a flash of the baby with my left eye.  No car seat.  It's a baby standing.  Probably 10 months old maybe? 

 

Once she passed me and went over the hill, I said, “Hope she slows down.” 

Then, as I topped the hill myself, all the traffic ahead of me had abruptly stopped. 

That mother, with the baby, had to almost slam on her brakes to avoid hitting the car ahead of them.  The baby was probably grabbed by her to avoid the child getting hurt. 

I could not stop in time. 

 

To avoid hitting her, I slammed on my brakes and swerved into on-coming traffic on the other side of the highway. 

No one was coming.  Thank God. 

 

Just when I thought we were in the clear, a huge truck, pulling a dune buggy on a trailer, slammed into the rear of this Caprice.  He was traveling at least 50 miles per hour, even after breaking himself. 

The collision launched us further into the other lane. 

75 feet further. 

Impact. 

 

All the coffee, the four of us were drinking, went flying all over the cab of the car. 

I got out of the car and saw the dune buggy hanging off the trailer. 

The truck that hit me was damaged a little bit. 

My car was totaled.  The entire rear end was accordioned in, all the way to the back glass of my beautiful car. 

 

I was freaking out.  Hollering,

 

“I have antifreeze all over me from this truck that hit me.  He has a busted radiator!  It is hot and scalding my skin.  Help me somebody.” 

 

It was all that hot coffee that went flying.  The creamer in the coffees had the same color as antifreeze in my shocked senses and in my terrified mind. 

 

Ambulances came.  Several police cars too. 

The three women in my life were taken to a local hospital for evaluation.  Neck strains for all three. 

I am standing on the highway watching my fiancé and her mother and sister being taken away. 

I was not hurt at all.  Maybe my ego.  I just lost a great car. 

 

The state trooper said to me,

“Well, I called a tow truck for you and for the truck and dune buggy hanging off the trailer, who hit you.  The truck that hit you is at fault, and I will write him a citation.  Are you hurt at all, Mr. Wilkins, looking at my driver’s license?” 

 

I answered, “No, Sir,” and then waited for the tow truck. 

 

He offered to take me to the hospital, and on his radio, he called dispatch to tell the tow truck drivers who were coming to the scene, to take my car to the junk yard of my choice. 

It was all set.  I have a ride. 

Not just any ride. 

 

So, I hopped in the passenger side of the police car up front, and buckled up for safety. 

I am looking around at the front dash and saw the shiny shotgun in its holder. 

I am gazing at the computer screen and radio equipment. 

Nice and clean up front. 

Of course, it had the protective steel screen separating the would-be offenders he would arrest in the future.  

All was well. 

 

I abruptly said to Officer McLennon,

 

“I have never ridden in the “front” of one of these before.  Lots of room up here.” 

 

He laughed and knew exactly what I was hinting about.   

 

I began to tell him my story about being in prison in 1976 and how I got saved by Jesus Christ, the short version of my life. 

We were almost at the hospital at this point.  Not much time to talk.

 

He’d driven his Cruiser to the hospital with lights flashing.  

Suddenly, he began to weep. 

 

 We arrived at the hospital two minutes later. 

 

I asked him what was wrong. 

He told me he had just gotten divorced.  And, he had lost the right to visit his children. 

The custody battle that he was in did not end in his favor.  He had just found out about the judge's decision before he arrived at the scene of my accident. 

 

He is telling me his heartbreak. 

 

His life had taken a turn in an “unexpected” event today.  The divorce was expected for sure, according to his short story to me. 

 

While now parked in front of the hospital entrance, I offered hope with the Lord leading me. 

Once he stopped crying, I asked him if I could pray for him, and that, if he was willing, accept Jesus Christ into his broken heart, by praying with me. 

 

He did.  We prayed. 

And then, we exchanged phone numbers. 

 

This State Trooper, Mr. McLennon, drove off.  I went to check on the girls, and they were fine.  No major injuries to any of them. 

 

Moral of this story? 

There is only one thought, not a moral. 

 

I could quote a bunch of scriptures, but I won’t. 

I could share how I heard from God about this man, but I didn’t. 

 

I did not see an open vision earlier in the day of this car wreck. 

Had no clue what was about to happen. 

I had just been to the beach, and didn’t get to finish my coffee with creamer. 

 

Unexpected.  Unbelievable. Supernatural. 

 

One thing for sure.  The girl with the baby? 

The officer wrote her a warning ticket about not securing her baby in the back seat of her car with a child restraint car seat.   

The driver of the truck and dune buggy felt bad about what happened and offered an apology. 

I would like to say I was this “super-spiritual” MAN OF GOD, but I wasn’t. 

I was truly bent out of shape losing my nice car, and having my future family traumatized and with slight neck injuries. 

Whiplash anyone? 

 

A long time ago in my past, the police always found me. 

 

Today, I found the police. 

 

Then, the Holy Ghost found Mr. McLennon. 

 

This unexpected tragedy that could have been much worse, wasn’t. 

 

The expected part of today? 

Just a beach trip and hot coffee (antifreeze in my mind) that turned awry. 

 

By faith, expect the unexpected from God.   

Today was not about Jumbo-shrimp. 

It could have been as we were at the beach after all.  Lots of seafood here.   

 

This whole day was bittersweet. 

My car was totaled. 

My life, spared. 

And my new family-to-be, safe.   

 

There was no deafening silence either, just metal bending, or tires screeching.   

 

A divorced, broken-hearted father, and an officer of the law, saved is sweet. 

 

As sweet as it gets in my eyes. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins 

Identity Theft of the Soul

 

Matthew 16: 13-18:

“When Jesus came into the region of Caesarea Philippi, He asked His disciples, saying, ‘Who do men say that I am, the Son of Man, am?’

 

So, they said, ‘Some say John the Baptist, some Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’

 

Jesus said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ 

 

Simon Peter answered and said, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.’ 

 

Jesus answered and said to him,

‘Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this (revelation) to you, but My Father who is in Heaven.  And I also say to you that you are Peter, and on this rock (revelation that Jesus is the Christ, the Anointed One sent from God) I will build MY church, and the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it.’”

First let us look at the church. 

“Ecclesia” (Greek: translates to “church” and refers to the community of believers in Jesus Christ; the Body of Christ. 

It can also refer to a local congregation.  The term originates from the Greek words “ek” (out of) and “kaleo” (to call), meaning “called out ones.” 

 

The Church has, and has always had, issues about doctrines, methods, sanctifications, and rules and regulations.  The type of “theft” I will get into, should never happen within the confines of a church. 

 Referred to in the above “Ecclesia.”   

 

This word, when translated to English, becomes church. 

 

This word “church” appears 114 times in the New Testament, often referring to the universal Church, the Body of Christ, worldwide, or a specific local gathering of Christians. 

 

Again, what is the church? 

And who are you, specifically, within this context of church? 

 

 I am not talking about your servanthood in the church. 

I am pointing to your “condition” spiritually, emotionally, physically, and mentally.  This includes everything like marriage, children, jobs, finances, dreams of a better life, etcetera. 

 

How can we be separated from the world, and its lusts if we, ourselves, are the product of having our true identity stolen? 

How so? 

 

Every person in church has a condition.  Good or bad. 

 

This Christian life is a roller coaster at times, either in a storm, coming out of a storm, or headed into a new one.  Not a bunch of time to relax between storms. 

 

Thank God that Jesus is in the boat with us during all our storms. 

 

Our daily, weekly, and Sunday routines come with then, a condition.  It is called an opinion or attitude to be influenced regarding our understanding of “church” as we live out our Christian Walk. 

We sometimes evolve into a counterfeit or fake Christian.  Not wanting to, but we get tired of routine, and our true identity gets stolen in this process of complacency. 

We find ourselves hiding behind our own religious beliefs, no matter what the sermon on Sunday. 

Even if we feel conviction about something that is not right in our personal lives, we lean on our traditions and beliefs, rather than repenting on a bended knee. 

 

Jesus said in Matthew 11: 28-30…

 

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” 

 Identity theft begins in our soul. 

If you are laboring in any way and are heavy laden or burdened down from your past issues that are unresolved, then your soul has been stolen. 

Piece by piece, your life is tormented as it is shredded into small pieces of time past. 

It is like the memories won’t stop, no matter how you pray. 

The strength and power you need to overcome your past, or present situation, is gone. 

Zapped, and tapped out. 

How so?   

 

Your soul is sick.  Your mind, intellect, and emotions are dying a slow death. 

 

Is your current family happy? 

Are you relied upon, keeping order in the home? 

Does everyone around you, including people at work, or distant friends, need your time and insight? 

 

You are only human. 

Your soul is “damaged goods,” and even if you recognize the damage, why would you continue in a cesspool of sadness over things that happened years ago? 

 

How can you help someone who is damaged too, if you are beyond hope? 

 

We must get our identity back by finding out all over again, who is Christ, the Anointed One, and let Him fix us. 

 

I see no benefit in vomiting up the past.  It is truly gone. 

 

If we have the Mind of Christ, the damage from yesteryear can’t hurt us or drive us to sorrow and depression. 

 

You are in a trauma toilet going clockwise and being flushed down the sewer of identity theft of your own soul.  Maybe you do not recognize it, but you should by the end of this story. 

 

Just because your true identity in Christ is gone, does not mean you can’t get it back. 

Stolen away through time and pressures of life. 

 

Jesus said, if you are heavy laden, take His yoke upon yourself, and learn from Me. 

Are you learning anything about your soul lately? 

 

You and I will never achieve peace through strength.  Saying we are a Christian, and that we go to church, does not give us enough power to blow fuzz off of a peach. 

 

You and I are in a “spiritual war,” and we are losing ground daily without our soul back in place within our lives. 

 

We hide behind a mask of fear and worry.  The spiritual face we counterfeit daily, is wrong, and it is sin to think we can be pretenders, when we really have no hope in surviving. 

 

Do you hide in a drowning sea of sorrow and pain? 

Sometimes, unknowingly your identity is stolen away from you, and you are left confused about who you really are in Christ. 

 

He is more than your Savior. 

He is your only source of peace. 

 

Yes, His Word, the Bible helps. 

We must live what we read, or we are hypocrites.  Whitewashed tombs, full of dead men's bones. 

Ask the Pharisee’s, they will tell you all about that cleansing of the outward cup but leaving the inside dirty with despair, and religious ideologies.   

 

Jesus said in verse 29 that He is gentle and lowly (humble) in heart, and you will find rest for your SOULS. 

 

This identity theft also left your spiritual bank in the red.  Overdrawn and about to have it all closed out.  There are no other banks that would let you open a new account, if the last one died on the vine of vehement living in your past.   

This lack of identity causes us to sometimes try and be someone we are not. 

A theatrical player in a drama-filled life, going nowhere fast, waiting for the last curtain call, so we can run and hide. 

 

There is a part of human nature that causes us to desire to be accepted in a world filled with rejection. 

 

I know all about rejection, believe me. 

 

The moment the Judge passed sentence on any criminal, the mask went on, and we had to become something else other than a drug addict and attempted murderer.   
That was me at 18 years old.  We all have a horror story to share.  We were a product of our own environment, but the environment changes, like the weather, when we meet Jesus. 

The first mask I had to wear, prior to catching the chain to prison, was a thing called survival of the fittest. 

The chain is the bus a convicted felon gets on, strapped down with chains and handcuffs.  Thought I would clarify “catching the chain.” 

“They were PONDEROUS CHAINS!” 

Survival of the fittest means more than being physically able to fight.  

 I had to prepare myself to resist, what this maximum-security prison I was headed to on the bus was going to dish out to me in 1976. 

Resist in your mind first. 

I was so drug-fried prior to prison, it was a miracle I survived like I did.  I refused (in my mind at least) to succumb to the horrors that awaited me. 

I resisted all the games in County Jail. 

I resisted the pressure of someone trying to have me wear Mascara. 

 

I did not have an identity problem.  I knew what I had become. 

I absolutely understood what my behavior would bring. 

I did not care about the consequences from the crimes. 

 

I did not want to live another day, so someone kill me soon and put me out of my misery. 

My identity needed to be changed. 

It did change when I met Jesus in prison.  I still had “soul damage,” but in time, Jesus healed that too. 

I know exactly what manner of man I am today. 

I am God’s man. 

I am a husband to one wife. 

I am a father to two young men. 

I am a preacher of this precious Gospel. 

I am working full time at 69 years old, doing construction. 

I am building an elaborate chicken coop.  Yay chickens and eggs. 

“I just wonder what came first, the chicken or...”  

 

It does not matter.  I am scrambling the first ones that come in about a month from now. 

 

I am what Jesus wanted me to be from the start. 

My identity was flawed.  My addictions and violence were my fault. 

I can’t blame Mama and her drama anymore. 

I can’t look at my dead parents and say, “I want to be like Daddy.”  If that were the case, I would have been murdered at 46 years old like my own Daddy. 

I have outlived that curse for sure. 

 

Theft is theft. 

Someone or something (Satan) has ripped you off entirely of your mind, intellect, and emotional stability. 

 

Tell me how to get out of this rut please? 

 

First, you and I must take off the “false face” of happiness and joy.  If you don’t have joy, do not pretend for someone else's sake. 

Find out why you have no joy as a Christian.  I will just bet, it stems from reliving old events in your mind. 

Counseling may help, but it is not a cure-all.   

 

There are several “church” conditions according to the Book of Revelation. 

The seven churches and their distinct issues. 

 

What kind of church lives in your heart today? 

Is it Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamos, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea? 

It has to be one of seven.  Or maybe many at the same time. 

These churches in Asia Minor, during the first century AD, receiving specific messages from Jesus.

(He is talking to you right now as you read this).

These churches exemplify different aspects of the church’s journey through history. 

Highlighting both strengths and weaknesses. 

The importance of staying true to God’s Word was paramount in all the messages from Jesus. 

 

Did you or I forsake our first love, Jesus? 

We are known, like the church of Ephesus, to be hard workers and full of endurance. 

We hate evil too, but we have walked away from Jesus to a degree. 

Our zeal became lukewarm in our devotions to God. 

There is always hope if we repent. 

 

The rest of the churches had issues too. 

Tribulation, poverty, persecution, and faithfulness.  Yes, faithfulness despite the trials. 

One church sat in “Satan’s seat.” 

 

Complacency and lukewarmness was also in other churches. 

Philadelphia was steadfast, but not perfect. 

 

There is no perfect church.

Remember, body of believers in Jesus. 

Humans. 

 

Someone once said, “If you find the perfect church, don’t attend it.  You will mess it up with your presence.” 

 

Galatians 2: 20-21 declares,

“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.  I do not set aside the grace of God; for if righteousness comes though the law, then Christ died in vain.”

 

Jesus lives in you? 

Is HE happy being in your vessel? 

He will give you, His Mind.  The MIND OF CHRIST. 

Your true identity will only be found in Him. 

Pursue Him.  Praise Him. 

Cut loose your past, and all the idols that surround all of them. 

Stop. 

Do not yield. 

 

You must stop in your tracks and look at your joy level and your hope level. 

 

Once you analyze that, then get on your knees, like some of the seven churches did, and repent for living in a place of your past, that wants you to dwell there. 

 

The biggest lie from Satan, is keeping us pre-occupied with our past, and our current tasks. 

Busy, busy, busy we Christians are. 

 

Stop, look and listen. 

 

You and I better look and listen when we stop. 

 

If we cross the intersection of life we are currently in, without our true identity, then we get run over and “squashed.” 

 

Hard to scrape up a soul off the pavement of life, that does not know who they are in Christ. 

 

 The oncoming train is approaching.  It is time to get off that track, before you get run over. 

 

You and I have been ripped off long enough. 

 

Ask yourself a question. 

What am I doing daily, that glorifies Jesus? 

If anything, you and I do, that is not building ourselves up in our most holy faith, then we are self-inflicting our own souls. 

 

Pull the knife out of your own heart now. 

The bleeding will stop. 

I am grateful Jesus did not stop bleeding for me, and for you. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

Deaf, Dumb, and Blind

                                                  

“Our God is in Heaven; He does whatever pleases Him.  But their idols are silver and gold, made by human hands.”

Psalm 115: 3-4 

Idols. 

Despite the historical and experiential evidence that idols are powerless over our lives, humankind has continued in their manufacture throughout all existence. 

Statues, carved images out of gold and silver, plaques, and even portraits of saints. 

Any hero, other than Jesus, is an abomination. 

Only if you worship any of them. 

Can’t do this and expect to hear or speak and see anything clearly that God wants to do in our lives.  

Idols of the heart keep us in a spiritual void, and we become like a person with the actual physical traits of the loss of these three senses. 

If a person is born this way, God can still use them.  He can heal them. 

As if they were never deaf, dumb or blind to start this life in. 

That is physical. 

 

How do we get healed of our spiritual defects of deaf, dumb, and blind? 

 

Let us start with what causes most of these defects in our character and our ability to understand the Nature of the Lord we say we love. 

 

No idol can assure us of a God and its presence.

 

No focal point in a golden image of a calf will do anything for us spiritually, except get our eyes off Jesus the Christ. 

 

The carved image of a calf will only make us come off our fasting effort early, wanting a leg of lamb to chew on. 

 

Psalm 115:8:

“Those who make them, (idols) will be like them; and so, will all who trust in them.”

Because the idol cannot reveal himself nor communicate his attributes, we are left to invent them. 

Our default character matches our own. 

 

As we explore, the theology of our idols, we find the worship requirements malleable as the attributes adapt to our fallen nature. 

 

Low demands and conciliatory spirit become the hallmark of the deaf, dumb and blind objects. 

 

Jesus taught us in many places, to be part of the vine, and have ears to hear. 

 

We can fall into the trap of not listening to His Word being preached. 

 

Yes, we sit in the pew, Sunday after Sunday, listening. 

But our hearts tend to get distracted easily in our immaturity spiritually. 

When the Holy Spirit brings conviction into our hearts at times, we hear, but do not obey quickly.  

This is a form of spiritual deafness too. 

 

If we continue to ignore that still, small voice of the Spirit of God, His tone never changes, and the volume of His Voice remains at the same level. 

It is our ears that get deaf to His leading. 

 

The longer you and I wait to repent or obey a command, the harder it is to hear Him.  

 

He will never stop talking to us.  It is we who stop listening and obeying. 

 

What is dumb/not having the ability to speak correctly in your spirit? 

 

It is not lack of intelligence.  

It is not lack of education or a degree.  There are a bunch of master's degree holders, who have no clue about Jesus. 

 

 I am talking about our ability to communicate to God with the things that mean something spiritual. 

He does not need our help.  We need His. 

Talking the Word and getting the Word of God deep into our soul is critical. 

It is our spiritual gas tank. 

Run out of gasoline in your car, well, call for help. 

Empty spiritual tanks provide little in the way of fumes of Godliness. 

We need His Word marinating in our souls. 

Not so much in your memorization of the Word of God, (this is good) as much as it is the automatic response to a situation or trial. 

 

We need it to come out of our mouths from our heart, when we need it to.   

 

Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. 

Nothing in the well?  Tank empty? 

Then the vain repetition and garbled words come out.  We do not understand our own babbling. 

Truly, the only thing, besides prayer and worship of our King Jesus, that will sustain us in the long haul of life is His Word in our Wells.  Yes, the well of our salvation and deliverance. 

 

You are only as smart spiritually, as you are absorbed by THE WORD of GOD. 

 

Not smarts intellectually. 

Spiritual intelligence about His Will and His Word is more valuable for you and me than all the degrees you could possibly attain in a lifetime.  Your degrees and diplomas, coupled with ribbons and trophies, are a good sign you studied hard to get your degree and did master the world’s barometer of qualifications for jobs and careers. 

 

All that counts, but it still won’t help you avoid eternity and its graduation ceremony. 

It is either judgement, or “enter in.” 

 

I just want one degree.  The one called obedience. 

 

Jesus often spoke of spiritual blindness.  He highlighted how people could have physical sight but be blind to spiritual truths. 

The Pharisees are a prime example of those who were spiritually blind, as they focused on outward rituals, while rejecting Jesus’ message of repentance and salvation in Him, and Him alone. 

 

It freaked them out when He declared,

“I do what My Father in Heaven tells Me to do.” 

 

Hardened Hearts. 

The Bible uses the phrase “hardened hearts” to describe a state of spiritual blindness, where individuals are resistant to God’s message. 

Romans 11:8:

 Just as it is written:

 

“God has given them a spirit of stupor, Eyes that they should not see, and ears that they should not hear, to this very day.”

 

Not to mention, being turned over to a debased mind, to go along with the three above-mentioned spiritual handicaps.  (Romans 1:28).

 

Those who practiced the abominations in this chapter were filled with all unrighteousness, along with the sins of the flesh. 

 

There was a time in my early years, filled with hatred, and addicted to various drugs, where I was a walking dead man. 

I was dying physically, and the drugs were my cancer. 

Violence became my drink.  It filled my thirst for vengeance and getting even with people. 

 

I was well on my way to being deaf, dumb, and blind to the truth. 

It was not only the truth.  It was the lie. 

 

I did not know I bought into the lies that were killing me. 

I was having too good of a time in my rebellion. 

I loved it to death. 

That almost worked as far as dying. 

 

Jesus began the surgery while I was in prison. 

He removed the strongholds and addictions over time after my Salvation moment. 

So, it became critical for me to empty my dead well and fill it with His Presence and His Holy Word. 

 

Empty vessels can’t carry anything but the dust of our disappointments and the air of anxiety.  That is why Jesus turned mere water into wine.  Not just for the wedding feast. 

It was to prove His miracle working power.   

 

Our empty vessels will hold something. 

Anything. 

But not just anything. 

Be careful lest you and I boast, for we too will fall into a trap.  That trap is called deafness, and the inability to hear or speak anything good and wholesome. 

Dumbness is a lonely place. 

It is a void of catastrophic, empty outer space. 

You are alone amidst the stars and planets. 

No name.  No vision.  No voice. 

No one to talk to.  No one to hear you. 

No one there to understand your garbled words you try and say which make no sense to anyone. 

 

 And finally, blindness. 

Once blindness comes, you and I will not be able to find the vessel to put His New Wine in. 

We will trip over our own insecurities and emptiness.   

 

We can come out from among the world and be separated into wholeness. 

We can have ears to hear finally.  We can speak clearly the oracles of God. 

 

We can see, with eyes to see, the path. 

 

“I am a lamp unto your feet, and a light upon your path.”

 

Go out at night with no moon or stars to help you see.  Take a flashlight or lantern and begin to walk.  You will only see a yard or two in front of you.  It is dark behind you. 

Since you can only see a little, does it make sense to get ahead of Jesus as He leads you? 

Does it make any sense at all to get behind Him and His Will for you? 

 

It would be better to stay by His side and look down at His footsteps and then walk where He walks. 

He will not lead the blind into a pit, because He has the best vision of all. 

 

Stay by His lamp. 

When yours burns out, His light will guide you.   

 

There will come a point in this walk with the Lord, you will see clearly. 

Take off the sunglasses of fear.  Do not wear them any longer. 

Open your ears, and listen to His Voice behind you saying,

 

“Walk this way, whether to the left or right.  Walk.”

 

 Then, speak out loud…

 

“Jesus, I worship You and I adore you.” 

He needs your voice.  He needs your ears.  He needs your eyes. 

 

Besides, we can be the voice and hands and feet of the Master. 

This is His intention for all who love Him. 

It is easy.  What is it? 

 

He wants to use your life for His Glory. 

All your life. 

 

It is not yours to decide which way to go. 

 

Our lives are not our own; they have been bought with price. 

His Blood. 

 

It is His Blood that enables us to hear, and speak, and see. 

 

It is the price He paid.  It cost Him everything. 

 

What will it cost you?  Everything. 

 

 Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

 

My Spiritual Doppelgänger?

                                    

 

December 31, 2017, while at Snake River Prison in Ontario, Oregon, one of our team members was sharing from the pulpit, prior to me preaching. 

 

I was sitting next to a fellow 80-year-old minister, as the man who was speaking was almost done.  My time to go up to preach was within a minute. 

 

My fellow minister, sitting next to me, had his elbows on his knees, and his face in his open palms, weeping. 

Right before I got up to preach, he whispered to me, “Remind me later in the hotel room, to tell you what the Lord said to me just now.” 

I acknowledged him and went up to preach. 

 

In the hotel room later, he told me this: 

“God said, ‘Go and do more until you are exhausted.  I will give you all you need.  Do not come to Me and the end of 2018 and not have done all you could do.  Do as much as you can everywhere.  Book (schedule) everything.’” 

(Remember this, as I am moving on to the VERY next day at the airport).

 

My fellow minister and I were at the Boise, Idaho Airport.  His flight to Houston left before my flight to Austin.  He lived in Houston, and I lived in another town four hours from him. 

 

I am sitting at my gate, when the following happened: 

An old man in a wheelchair was sitting in his area, ready to board the flight I was going to be on. 

He is staring at me for ten minutes.  I was trying not to make eye contact with him. 

Finally, after this ten-minute period, the old man waves me over to him. 

 

I arrived, reluctantly, and he spoke this to me: 

“I see you have had a hard way in life.  Let me see your left hand.” 

(I gave him my left hand, and he held it as he continued.) 

“There is fire in your hand to bring healing to nations.  You must do more; you MUST DO MORE!”

(That is what God told my 80-year-old fellow minister the day before while at the prison.  God spoke the same thing to him just before I went up to preach).

 

“Your family; OH, your wife, what a prayer warrior, yet so sensitive in the Spirit of God.  Much for her to do yet.”

 

(He asked me for my TWO boys’ names.  How did he know I had two boys except by the Holy Ghost)?

 I told him,

“Caleb and Levi.” 

 

He continued,

“Caleb needs to run in the spirit, like he runs on a field.” 

(Caleb was a running back in High School Football at this time, and a track and field runner).

“He hasn’t gotten the Baptism yet, but soon will, and he will pray for the sick and afflicted.  He has such a Shepherd’s heart.”

 

 “Now Levi. 

Bold, brilliance of mind and heart. 

Will be a prophet to the nations.”  

 

He continues,

“Your family is a miracle.”

  (He then asked for my name).

“It is a true miracle, your family.  Your son Caleb has such an awesome spirit, one that is tender. but needs The Baptism, so that he can function in the Spirit. Function and RUN in the Spirit, so God can tell him what to do, and where to go.”

 

(Now, he speaks about himself).

 

“When I was 36 years old- I am 80 now- I was caught up in the Spirit of the Lord, between Heaven and earth, and God showed me the ones I would pray for, in my entire life.  From that day forward. 

 

Now, you and your family, are one of many He showed me back when I was 36.  Today is the fulfillment of what I saw 44 years ago on your behalf.” 

 

He says,

“You have got to keep doing what you are told, for time is short!  YOU are called. YOU ARE CALLED!”

(He amplified his voice to me).

“Do not worry about things that concern your needs.  I love you.” 

 

Then suddenly, an airport orderly came up to him, as I walked away. 

I watched him intently. 

The orderly said to him,

 

“You are parked at the wrong gate, Sir.  You belong two gates down from here, which is the correct gate.” 

 

The 80-year-old man, as he was wheeled away, winked at me and smiled. 

I had taken a picture of him at the beginning, before he called me over to prophesy to me. In this picture, he is sitting in the wheelchair. 

It is more of a side shot than a front picture. 

 

This man looks exactly like me. 

 

He has long hair and a beard, but if you take away that hair and beard, and add 18 more years to my appearance, it is a spitting image of me. 

 

I will look like this when I am 80? 

 

I do not know that.  I know I will not grow a beard or have long hair. 

 

This is not the point about my possible doppelgänger.   

He was not that.   

 

He was a prophet of God, possibly my angel. 

 

Just a few moments later, after he was wheeled away to the gate, I walked the 40 feet to the gate he was to be at. 

 

He was gone. 

Literally gone. 

 

I had time before I flew out.  I walked and walked, checked the restrooms, and all the gates nearby. 

 

No man.  No wheelchair.  Nothing. 

 

Was he an angel from God sent to me? 

I will never know. 

 

You will see for yourself the resemblance.  When I got home, my two boys looked at the picture, and said,

“He looks like you, Pop when you get older.”

 

The rest of the story now. 

My friend, and co-laborer in the Lord, never fulfilled the mandate God said to him that day in 2017, when the Lord spoke clearly to him to DO MORE. 

He passed into eternity in 2021. 

 

It is now 2025, as I am writing to you. 

 

Since all this happened to me on New Years Day in 2018, the Lord has allowed me to do more, and more, and even more regarding prison ministry, churches, and a teen challenge center. 

He has provided a way for me to go, even though I still work full time at 69 years old.  I have been allowed, by Jesus, to expand my tent stakes and see more souls saved these past 7 years. 

 

“DO MORE,” the Lord said to my friend back then. 

 “DO MORE,” the Lord said, through the man in the wheelchair, to me that day in Boise Airport. 

 

Remember what he said to me. 

 

“When I was 36, God showed me all the people I would pray for in my lifetime.” 

 

Ironically, I started preaching the Gospel in 1992. 

I was 36 when I started. 

 

Coincidence? 

Possibly. 

Does that mean anything spiritually? 

Probably not. 

 

What does all this mean to me? 

 

“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing, some people have shown hospitality to angels, without knowing it.”

Hebrews 13:2.

 

This man in the wheelchair showed me more than my own hospitality. 

He showed me the truth about my life, my children, and the ministry of soul winning in prisons. 

 

 In 1999, when Caleb was in the womb, I put my face down on my wife’s belly and proclaimed, by faith,

 

“You are from God, and you will have a shepherd’s heart, a pastor’s heart, and will lay hands on the sick and afflicted and they will recover.” 

 

My youngest son, when my wife was pregnant with Levi,

 

“You are a prophet to the nations, and you will proclaim the truth to those who listen to you.” 

 

My sons have preached and ministered with me in prison, several times.   Caleb was with me at Snake River Prison in Oregon after he turned 18, around 10 months after my encounter with this man in the wheelchair.  

 

Levi and Caleb surprised me by coming to the Ferguson Unit Prison in Texas, on Father’s Day in 2022 and 2023. 

 

Do More?

 

 “Do more, and do not worry, I will give you what you need.” 

 

That word to “do more” was intended for my friend.  It ended up being to me, only one day later as it went forth to my heart.  

My friend may not have done all he wanted, but I am endeavoring to DO MORE.   

I am not exhausted quite yet, and hope to have more strength and stamina as each day goes by. 

 

Here is another fact about the “word” given that day at the airport. 

 

“Your family is a miracle, a true miracle.” 

 

Doctors told me, for over 20 years after I got out of prison in 1977, that the tests run on my ability to have children were negative.

I had been beaten half to death inside jail, in 1976, and my reproductive organs inside my body, were destroyed. 

My external plumbing was also half removed. 

My fish were dead. 

 

NO hope for me to ever have children. 

 

But, the Bible says,

 

“Nothing is impossible for them that believe.”

Mark 9:23.

 

My oldest son was born in May of 2000, and my youngest, in July of 2001. 

The two that the man in the wheelchair spoke of. 

 

That is a miracle. 

 

What do you believe in? 

 

God gave me two sons, supernaturally.  He is a Supernatural God. 

 

Not a doppelgänger. 

Jesus Christ can’t be duplicated. 

 

But He can, to a degree, duplicate His love through you, to others. 

 

Let HIM. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins

 

A Daddy’s Little Girl

                                                  

It was around 2010, when I met this young lady working at a Dairy Queen. 

It is the same Diner that I stopped at every Wednesday, to study for my preaching time at the Federal Prison near Sheridan, Oregon. 

 

I had around two hours to study after work, and this Dairy Queen became my routine.  I would order some food, and after eating, I would flip the tray paper over, which was a blank piece of white paper.  The front side had the Dairy Queen logo and a big ice cream cone picture on it.  In color. 

I had many sermons on this tray paper over the years, tucked away in my box of memories.  I never used them again, but I kept them. 

 

On this day, I was writing my sermon when the young 19-year-old girl placed my food in front of me.  She paused after setting my tray down. 

 

“What are you doing, Mister?” 

I replied, “I am writing my sermon for the prison nearby.  I will be preaching to the men in a couple of hours.” 

She froze. 

Bowed her head in shame, and muttered with a soft voice,

“My Daddy is in prison somewhere.  I have not seen him since I was around four years old.  I have vague memories of him, and I wish I could find him.”

 

I asked her what her Daddy’s name is, because at this time, I was preaching in all the State Prisons in Oregon, and maybe I could somehow help her. 

 

She, again, softly said, “His name is Rick C.” 

 

My turn to freeze up!  I could not believe what she just said to me. 

I asked, “What is your name?” 

“Lacy C.”   
“Wow, Lacy, I know your dad.  I have known him for the past 15 years.  He is at the Snake River Prison in Ontario, Oregon. “

 

She grabbed me and hugged me with tears flowing down her face. 

I asked her if she wanted me to contact him, next time I was going there to preach.  I also gave her the Chaplain’s phone number at that prison so there could be a way for her to get in touch with her Daddy. 

 

The next week, upon my arrival at the Dairy Queen, she was off work that day, and I continued to pray about this whole situation. 

 

Two months went by, and it was time for me to go to Snake River Prison for my scheduled preaching events. 

When I arrived, Rick came up to me and wept on my shoulder. 

 

“Joe, I got a letter from my daughter Lacy.  Explaining how she met you and that you knew me.  I am so grateful to the Lord Jesus for reconnecting us after 15 years.”

 

Another Divine appointment for a Daddy, and his little girl. 

 

I received a letter from Rick a few weeks after my preaching event. 

It read,

“Dear Joe, Lacy came to visit me last week with my former wife.  My former wife and I are friends now instead of living apart with bitterness and unforgiveness between us.  My former wife is saved, and when I saw my daughter for the first time in 15 years, she also said that she is saved too.  Joe, Lacy told me after meeting you and finding out how I knew you for a long time, she surrendered her life to Jesus, the day you two met.” 

 

Unreal. 

I didn’t lead her in a prayer.  I just prayed for her. 

I did not get an opportunity to share a sermon with her; I just held her while she cried. 

 

You see, Jesus does not always wait for a sermon to be preached. 

He does not use witnessing as the only avenue to reach someone’s heart. 

He uses everything.  Including a hot meal at a Dairy Queen on a Wednesday afternoon. 

 He used a moment in time, to reveal His love to a young 19-year-old girl, who missed her Daddy. 

Yes, a Daddy’s Little Girl, in need of a Father. 

She not only got her Daddy back, but she also met the best Daddy ever. 

Jesus. 

 

Many years later, when my oldest son Caleb was old enough to go into prisons with me, we scheduled a visit to Snake River Prison. 

Caleb brought his friend Nathan, and prior to the trip from Texas to Oregon, I called the Chaplain.  I have known this Chaplain for over 20 years. 

I asked the Chaplain to let the inmate led worship team know we were coming and that I wanted them to practice the song, “Who Am I,” by Casting Crowns. 

I even gave the Chaplain the proper KEY to sing it in because I was setting up Caleb and Nathan for something that they had no idea what was going to happen once we three arrived. 

 

Everything was set. 

We arrived in Oregon, rented a car in Portland, and drove the 8 hour drive to the prison. 

We stayed the night, and the next day, we arrived at the prison. 

Good ole’ Rick C. was there, and when we walked in, he approached Caleb, Nathan, and me. 

Rick looked at Caleb and said,

“I have been hearing about you for over 18 years.  Your Daddy has been preaching here for a very long time and has told all of us about the miracle of how you and your brother were born.” 

 

Caleb is stunned and frozen.  So is Nathan. 

 

(I knew what was coming next.) 

 

Rick C. is around six foot 5, and weighs about 275 pounds, without any known body fat. 

We call this in prison as “buffed out.” 

Primarily from the weight benches the inmates use daily. 

 

Rick looked at Caleb with a stern look as well as Nathan and said, “I want you two young men to join the worship team today.  OKAY?” 

 

The look on Caleb’s and Nathan’s face was horror and surprise. 

Rick picked up my six-foot two, 185-pound son, and Caleb’s feet were off the carpet.  Rick swung him around three times and sat him down.  With his meat hook hands on Caleb’s shoulders he stated, “So is that a YES from the two of you about joining the worship team today?” 

Caleb could hardly spit out the word yes. 

 

So, the worship team began with Caleb and Nathan behind their own microphones. 

The song by Casting Crowns began. 

“Who Am I, that the Lord of all the earth.” 

 

Caleb and Nathan know this song; they began to harmonize with the other singers. 

Then, about halfway through the song, the inmates (on cue) tuned down their microphones completely, and let my son and his friend finish. 

 

The looks on these two young men, with tears flowing down their faces, was unbelievable. 

The harmony they had was from Heaven. 

When the song ended, the entire 175 men in attendance stood up and clapped and worshipped Jesus. 

 

Caleb and Nathan were set up by me and Rick. 

Truly, they were set up by Jesus to do, what they have never done before. 

Be used of God, to minister through music. 

 

The ears of society’s “rejects” opened that day. 

Though this world deems people in prison as outcasts, Jesus sees them as His children. 

Children to be, when the Gospel is sung, preached, and simply given in love. 

Anyway, God desires. 

 

Over one hundred men received Jesus that day. 

After duplicating the service with Caleb and Nathan singing again for the second service, Jesus moved even more. 

These two young men, found out, just like the song lyrics say, “Who Am I, that the Lord of all the earth, would care to know my name, would care to feel my hurt.  Chorus:  Not because of who I am, but because of what You’ve done, not because of what I’ve done, but because of who You are.” 

 

From a Daddy’s Little Girl, to having my son and his friend sing that day. 

 

Only Jesus could put together such a divine intervention like the two stories I just shared. 

 Lacy C., and her Daddy Rick C., were reconciled to each other after 15 long years. 

Daddy’s Little Boy, at one time, and his friend, sang and worshipped the Lord Jesus too. 

 

Just think of it. 

When I met Lacy at Dairy Queen, my son Caleb was 10. 

Eight years later, Caleb got to meet the Daddy to a little girl, who never knew him before. 

 

The last time I went to Oregon, last September of 2024, Rick C., is at the Oregon State Correction Institution in Salem, Oregon now. 

He came up to me in the chapel and showed me a picture. 

 

It was a picture taken just a few weeks prior to my visit that day. 

It is a picture of Rick, his former wife, Lacy, and her brother Levi, in the visitation room in the prison. 

Reconciliation. 

This whole family is saved and whole now.

 

God will use abandonment.  Rejection, Divorce, and heartache. 

 

He uses everything. 

Jesus does not waste a thing in this life. 

We may discard things or do things that end up in life’s dumpster. 

Jesus never throws away anyone.  Even, a Daddy’s Little Girl. 

 

The song, “Who am I?” 

 

Who are you today? 

 

If you are lost, you can be found. 

If you are broken hearted, He can heal you too. 

 

Psalm 147: 3 declares, “I have come to heal the broken hearted and bind up their wounds.” 

 

If you have been wounded, He can and will heal you. 

 

Especially when you find out “Who You Are, in Him.” 

 

He cares about you, just like He cares about that young girl at Dairy Queen. 

 

From an abandoned little child to a Daddy’s Little Girl. 

Only Jesus can orchestrate this kind of reconciliation. 

He is, who He says He is. 

He is Daddy. 

Copyright © 2025 by Joe Wilkins