Conrad Rocks | Spiritual Warfare, Supernatural Faith & Kingdom Living

Grace for the Older Brother I was sitting there with my coffee, the steam rising in lazy curls against the morning light, when a notification pinged on my phone. It was a response to a Facebook post I’d put up earlier that day. I had asked a simple, pointed question: Is it okay if Jesus is Lord of our lips only and not Lord of our life? I didn’t realize at the time that I was poking a hornet's nest of theological debate that has been buzzing for centuries. As I watched the comments roll in, I saw the lines being drawn. On one side, you had people shouting about "legalism," and on the other, folks were screaming "hyper-grace." It’s a pain point we all feel, isn't it? We want the security of salvation, but we often find ourselves living in a weird tension. We say the right things at church, we use the right Christian vocabulary, and we might even have a fish on our bumper. But when the rubber meets the road—when the temptation hits or the brother who hurt us ...

Discerning the Prophetic Voice I was lying in bed, hovering in that space between sleep and wakefulness, when a question hit me like a freight train. I wasn’t searching for anything—this question felt dropped into my spirit: When you prophesy, do you wait for the Lord to give you the words, or do you simply speak what is on your heart? At first, I assumed most people would choose the “speak from the heart” option because it sounds warm, spiritual, and sincere. But as I sat with it, the Holy Spirit began exposing a dangerous deception. Our culture tells us to “follow your heart,” but Scripture paints a very different picture of that internal compass. The Problem: The Deceitful Navigator Many believers wrestle with what I call Prophetic Static . You feel an urge, you see a “vision” in your mind’s eye, and you’re ready to release a “Thus saith the Lord.” But here’s the tension: How many times have we seen people prophesy things that were nothing more than their own political opinio...

 Abiding for Supernatural Fruit The mist was rising slowly over the Pascagoula River, a thin, ethereal veil that seemed to separate the physical world from the spiritual. I was standing out in the Mississippi Sandhill Crane Preserve, a place I often frequent when the walls of my office start to feel a little too narrow. You know that feeling? The computer is humming, the social media notifications are pinging like a frantic pinball machine, and the "to-do" list for the blog is staring you down. I had to get away. I had to unplug. As I walked, the only sound was the crunch of my boots on the trail and the distant call of a crane. It’s in these moments of quiet that I realize just how hard the world fights for our attention. It’s a literal battle. We try to speak the words of God from heaven to the people on this planet, acting as ambassadors for Christ, but it’s hard to represent a Kingdom you haven't visited lately. We are supposed to be heavenly minded, yet we get bogged...

 Living Room Mission Field Picture a proper British garden party in Wales back in 1873. Men in waistcoats and women in long dresses are gathered on a manicured lawn, sipping tea and watching a peculiar new activity. Major Walter C. Wingfield has just introduced something he calls "sphairistikè," which thankfully got renamed to lawn tennis soon after. It started as just an idea in that one garden. They didn't have the internet, television, or radio. Yet, within just four years, the very first World Tennis Championship was held at Wimbledon. How did it spread so fast? It wasn't forced upon people with tanks or guns. People saw it being played outside, in public, and realized it was something they wanted to be a part of. It looked fun, it looked engaging, and they copied it. Today, you can walk into any Walmart and find rackets and balls. You drive past courts funded by tax dollars in nearly every community. That simple idea from a Welsh garden party captivated the world...

Listen to "Nancy Nesbit Testimony" on Spreaker. Nancy shares her testimony of  destroying idols and pursuing sanctification. Sin and sickness correlation; Music and TV idols; Dallas Cowboy Fanaticism ; How to identify idols; Salvation and healing testimonies; Sanctification and miracles; Forgiveness and Wording up; Holiness and understanding; nesbitnancy12@yahoo.com  ;

Stop Stepping Over JESUS!  The engine of my car was idling, and I was checking my watch for the fifth time in three minutes. I could feel that familiar prickle of irritation rising in my chest. I have known Vicki, a powerhouse evangelist from Colombia, for a long time. She is a woman who loves God with every fiber of her being, but she had one habit that absolutely drove my carnal mind crazy: she was late. Everywhere. Every time. I sat there thinking, If she’s such a good Christian, shouldn’t she keep her word about being on time? It’s funny how we define "good Christianity" by Western standards of punctuality while people are literally dying around us without the hope of the Gospel. I was so focused on the schedule, the "religious duty" of getting to a service, that I almost missed the entire point of why we go to church in the first place. This is the "storm of our own making" I find myself in more often than I’d like to admit. We get caught up in ...

Who Is on Your Throne? I was sitting at my desk, the glow of the monitor the only light in the room, finishing up a podcast recording that I thought was some of my best work. I had been pouring out my heart about the "Rocks of Revelation" I’d been seeing in the Word. But then, in a moment of sheer clumsiness or perhaps a technological glitch, I hit the wrong button. I watched in slow motion as the file vanished. Deleted. Gone. No "undo," no trash bin recovery—just an empty folder staring back at me. Have you ever felt that sinking sensation in your gut? That realization that something you valued, something you worked hard for, was just... disregarded? I started praying, "Lord, please, give me that back!" I was frustrated. I was agitated. I felt like all that effort was for nothing. But in that moment of silence, the Holy Spirit brought a scene from the book of Jeremiah to my mind. I pictured Jeremiah’s scribe, Baruch, handing a scroll to the King. This was...