KyKingdomKum

I’ve come to believe that many people have walked away from religion not because they stopped believing in God, but because they never actually saw Him in the first place. They saw systems. They saw pressure. They saw performance. But they didn’t see the One who said, “Come to Me… and I will give you rest.” That’s the Jesus I’ve come to know. Not the one who came to make people “Christian.” But the one who came because the whole world was loved, and worth rescuing. He didn’t come to add more weight to your life. He came to lift it. He didn’t come to guilt you into better behavior. He came to give you life —abundant, real, lasting life. Somehow, along the way, the message got complicated. We made it about rules and rankings. About who’s in and who’s out. About how clean you look and how many verses you know. But that’s not the message Jesus gave. That’s not the tone He spoke in. He was gracious . Merciful . Slow to anger. Rich in love. He knew people were already ca...

There’s a promise tucked inside Joel 2:25 that has been stirring in my heart lately: "I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you." At first glance, it's just a list of plagues: locusts, cankerworms, caterpillars, palmerworms. But look deeper, and you'll see more than just insects. You'll see your own life. Your own story. The Locusts : sudden, sweeping losses that strip life bare in an instant. The Cankerworm : slow erosion, the kind you don't notice until the foundation crumbles. The Caterpillar : stolen potential, transformation interrupted before it could bloom. The Palmerworm : small compromises and small heartbreaks that nibble away over time. Not every loss comes the same way, but every loss leaves its mark. Some of us know what it's like to have dreams devoured. Some know the hollow ache of seasons wasted, stolen by circumst...

  There’s something stirring in me that I can’t keep quiet about. The more I think about the Kingdom—what it is and how it manifests—the more I’m drawn back to the beginning, back to the intention of God. Back to Genesis . Back to the Kingdom within . When God made man, He blessed them. Before any command, there was a blessing. Before any effort, there was abundance. He created everything and then created us—He didn’t hand us a mess and say, “Good luck.” He said, “Be fruitful, multiply, replenish the earth, subdue it, and have dominion.” That’s not a burden. That’s a birthright . And the key to walking in that blessing—what unlocks fruitfulness, multiplication, replenishment, and dominion—is one word we tend to overlook: subdue . When Jesus stood up in the synagogue and read Isaiah 61, He declared that He came to subdue what subdues us —poverty in any form, heartbreak in any form, captivity in any form. He came to lift the heavy things so we could run light. “My yoke is easy,...

When I think about the Kingdom of God, I don’t see religion anymore. I see life. I see restoration. I see purpose. I see the heart of a Father who wants His children to walk in freedom, in truth, and in the fullness of who they were created to be. Jesus didn’t come to start a religion. He came to reveal a Kingdom—a way of being, living, and moving that reconnects us with God and sets everything back in order. The message He preached wasn’t limited to pulpits and pews. He said, "The Kingdom of God is within you." He spoke to fishermen, tax collectors, the sick, the outcast, the rich, and the poor. And after He taught, He healed. After He preached, He delivered. His words were followed by power. That’s what the Kingdom looks like. This understanding of the Kingdom is far from the structures we often call church. It’s not about who holds a microphone—it’s about who carries the presence of the King. It’s not about whether your work is called "ministry"—it’s about whethe...

There’s a difference between how God responds when an individual sins and when a whole people turn away from Him. It’s a pattern that shows up all throughout Scripture—and one that reveals something deeply beautiful about the heart of God. When Adam and Eve ate from the tree, God didn’t thunder with wrath. He came gently, asking, “Where are you?” He covered them. Yes, there was a consequence—but there was also grace. And here's the part that must not be missed: God covered the people, but judged the serpent. The deceiver. The source. God’s anger was directed not at His children, but at the one who led them astray. That pattern speaks volumes about His heart. He is not after our destruction—He is after the cause of our separation. The same was true with Cain. Even after murder, God marked him to protect him. Consequence, yes—but mercy remained. But when the intentions of all humanity’s heart were evil, when sin became cultural and collective, God responded differently. The flood w...

With our eyes on Him—our minds stayed on Him—we find peace. Not because life is without chaos, but because He is who He says He is. The One who promised to remember our sins and transgressions no more. The One who is sovereign, gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in love, and faithful. It’s easy to get lost in our shortcomings. To replay our failures. To drown in anxiety or fear. But when we shift our focus—when we lift our eyes to Jesus—we’re reminded of who’s actually in control. We don’t have to be perfect to be at peace. We just have to stay fixed on the One who is. And the One we’re fixing our eyes on? He makes all His goodness pass before us. His goodness and mercy don’t follow us like shadows—they chase us down, every single day of our lives. That’s not wishful thinking. That’s covenant love. When Jesus stood in the synagogue and read from Isaiah, He was reading a job description—the mission of the Kingdom: Good news for the poor. Healing for the broken. Liberty for t...

  Fixing My Eyes on Christ and Him Crucified I’ve come to understand that eternal life isn’t just about living forever—it’s about knowing God. That kind of knowing doesn’t come from religious routines or following a list of do’s and don’ts. It comes from walking with Him through real life—through setbacks, silence, mistakes, and moments of clarity. It’s in those moments that I’m reminded: Jesus Christ and Him crucified isn’t just a belief—it’s the center of everything. There are times when I know what’s right and still don’t do it. That’s what sin really is—not some list of forbidden actions, but missing the mark when I already know better. And in those moments, I don’t feel holy or strong. I feel exposed. I want to hide, to pull back, like Adam in the garden. I feel like I have to sit with the guilt for a while before I can talk to God again, even though I know He’s already forgiven me. But that’s the trick of shame—it gets me focused on myself. Either on what I did wrong or on t...

Life is a journey, and throughout scripture, we see a pattern emerge—one that mirrors our spiritual walk. It is the journey from The Promised Land , the place of fulfillment and purpose; through The Wilderness , the place of refining and preparation; and, if we are not careful, into The Captivity , the place of consequence and correction. Each stage is significant, and understanding them can help us walk in alignment with God’s will for our lives. The Promised Land: God's Desire for Us The Promised Land is not just a physical place—it is the reality of walking in the fullness of God’s will. It is the life He has planned for us, where His thoughts toward us manifest: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11) This land is where our purpose is realized, where we bear fruit, and where we experience the goodness of God in our lives. But entering the Promised Land does not mean li...

Let me ask you something: Why do we struggle, strive, and sacrifice so much for things that were freely given ? Why do we risk our lives, hurt others, and sometimes even lose ourselves chasing what God has already provided? Let’s take it back to the beginning. When God finished His work of creation, He didn’t just rest because He was tired. No, He rested because the work was complete. Everything humanity could ever need or desire was already in place. Life? Check. Love? Check. Purpose? Double check. He created us in His image—blessed, fruitful, made to multiply, replenish the earth, and have dominion over it. Fast forward to the cross. When Jesus declared, “It is finished,” He completed a different kind of work—a work that would restore everything lost through sin. Redemption, healing, and the Spirit’s empowering presence were handed back to us, no strings attached. Now here’s the kicker: Everything we strive for—whether it’s wealth, love, validation, or purpose—has been freely given ...

  Where Dominion Begins There’s a powerful moment in Genesis when God confronts Cain, not with wrath, but with a warning filled with both insight and authority: “Sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must master it.” —Genesis 4:7 That verse has been echoing in my heart. It’s more than a cautionary tale—it’s a revelation. A pattern. A mirror. See, earlier in Genesis, we’re told that God made man in His image. Then He blessed them. And what did He command next? “Be fruitful and multiply. Replenish the earth. Subdue it. Have dominion.” —Genesis 1:28 There’s a rhythm here I can’t ignore: Image → Blessing → Fruitfulness → Dominion But right in the middle of that process is a word that feels like a gate: subdue . Subdue what? Before you can have dominion over anything, you have to first master what’s happening within . You must subdue the chaos trying to creep in through the cracks of your discipline, your focus, your identity. That’s the door. ...

Today is my birthday. When I was 18, I went to jail. At the time, I thought my life was over. Everything I had planned, dreamed about, or imagined for myself—gone. Just like that. I remember praying, over and over again, for a reset. I didn’t even know what I was asking for, I just knew I needed something different—something new. While I was inside, I heard a saying that stopped me in my tracks. "If you change the inner attitude of your mind, then you can change the outer aspects of your life." In other words: change your thinking, change your life. That saying hit me deep. It wasn’t just motivational talk. It was truth. It was power. It was the real definition of transformation. It showed me that real change doesn’t start with fixing everything around you—it starts with your mindset. That’s when I realized: my prayer for a "reset" wasn’t about getting my old life back. It was about becoming someone new. Jesus said: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at h...

What if eternal life isn’t about where you go when you die, but who you know while you live? "Now this is eternal life: that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent." — Jesus (John 17:3) Eternal life is not just living forever. It’s not merely something we step into after we die. According to Jesus Himself, eternal life is knowing God —truly, intimately, experientially. Not just knowing about Him, but knowing Him as He is: the One True God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent. This idea is echoed beautifully in Jeremiah’s prophecy of the new covenant: "No longer will they teach their neighbor, or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’ because they will all know Me, from the least of them to the greatest,” declares the Lord. “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more." — Jeremiah 31:34 The old covenant law served like a mirror—it revealed our sin, our shortcomings, our distance from God. But now, under the ...