Tag Archives: Kingdom of God

Christians have few problems with understanding that God is omnipotent and omnipresent. After all, He has to be all-powerful and always present everywhere  in order for Him to be God. How else could He answer our prayers, right?

But the biggest struggle we have with God is that He is omniscient, too. This means He knows every intimate detail about our lives before we are born, in our present day lives, and in our futures… all before it happens.

The omniscience of God becomes head-scratching stuff when you consider He sees painful circumstances slamming into our lives before they hit, painful circumstances such as divorces, financial failures, miscarriages of justice, accidental deaths, and so forth. Yet, for the most part, He allows the circumstances to hit us anyway, even though He knows we will suffer agony.

This is an integral part of the walk with God, in which we have to trust Him in the good times and the bad, believing He truly knows what’s best for us at all times.

Then He said to Abram: “Know certainly that your descendants will be strangers in a land that is not theirs, and will serve them, and they will afflict them four hundred years. (Genesis 15:13)

God spoke this prophecy to Abraham almost two hundred years before young Joseph received his dreams and was then sold into Egypt by his brothers.  Joseph later understood that it was not “his brothers who sent him to Egypt, but God.”

The seventy members of Jacob’s family, who ended up in Egypt because of Joseph, were spared from a severe famine and for the next two hundred years were blessed. They prospered and multiplied.

But then a new line of  Pharaohs, enslaved the people of Israel for the last two hundred years of their stay in Egypt. They lost their land and wealth in Goshen, were murdered, raped, beaten, and treated as subhuman machines to build public works for the Egyptians.

Now remember: God saw this happening to Israel ahead of time and yet He allowed it to happen. Why?

But the LORD has taken you and brought you out of the iron furnace, out of Egypt, to be His people, an inheritance, as you are this day. (Deuteronomy 4:20)

The crucible is for silver and the furnace for gold, And each is tested by the praise accorded him. (Proverbs 27:21)

Take away the dross from the silver, And there comes out a vessel for the smith; (Proverbs 25:4)

Being humans, we look at painful circumstances and see what is happening in the now of our lives.  Pain hurts. Thus, we want to get rid of it as soon as possible.

God sees and understands our pain, but He may also know how the painful circumstances will mold our characters into the image of Jesus. He therefore may choose not to quickly remove the painful circumstances and may use them instead as a fiery furnace to remove impurities from our lives. Then, when we come through the painful trials, we will be like valuable silver or gold for His kingdom.

In Israel’s sake, God wanted a whole nation to be His people and His inheritance. To prepare them, He sent them to Egypt which then acted as an iron furnace on Israel’s character, removing impurities and readying them to be His people.

Now, this in no way excuses Egypt’s excessive brutality and murderous actions against Israel. In fact, when God spoke the above prophecy to Abraham, He foresaw these problems and added:

And also the nation whom they serve I will judge; afterward they shall come out with great possessions. (Genesis 15:14)

While Israel suffered in the iron furnace of Egypt, Aaron and other men would have reminded Israel of these prophetic words and its promises to the people. Yet, the suffering was so great that the whole nation groaned and cried out to God for deliverance.

Did God’s Egypt plan for Israel accomplish all what God wanted to happen?

We can argue this until the end of the age and not come up with definite conclusions on every point whereby we all agree. Okay, I understand that.

But what other nation has produced people like Moses, Joshua, Deborah, Samuel, Esther, King David, King Solomon, Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, John the Baptist, Peter, John, James, Paul, and most of all – Jesus Christ, the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and Savior?

The answer: no other nation has equaled what Israel has given to the world.

I believe that God’s plan always moves forward, just like His words, and accomplishes what He wants it to do. We ourselves may not always see the fruit of His plan in our lifetimes, but it will eventually come forth.

So, what does this have to do with abortion?

(Continued in Part 3)

I looked down at my watch. 11:52 AM. Only eight minutes until the service ended, and people began flooding out of the sanctuary, heading for their cars. Then, off to dinners with family and friends celebrating the Easter holiday. Only eight minutes. And my tongue danced around inside my cheeks, speaking in tongues. A run-away babbling, gibbering, jabbering, muttering, ranting, yakkety-yakking Christian filled with varieties of tongues from heaven.

Oh, God, why don’t You just throw me under a Greyhound Bus and put me out of misery before I have a collision with someone? I thought.

“Darling – darling.”

Usually, whenever I heard Dusty say, “Darling,” I lit up inside with joy, but not that day. She was the oncoming blond-haired pedestrian this out-of-control tongue talker hoped to avoid.

Standing up, I bit down on my run-away tongue with my teeth, causing my lower lip to jut out in an odd manner. I did not care because keeping the prattling tongue under control at all costs had to be my number one preoccupation in Dusty’s presence. Somehow, some way, I had to survive this run-in with a non-tongue-talking Christian.

The compassion in her green eyes spoke volumes to me.

“Honey what’s wrong with you? I became worried when you didn’t return.”

She did what every mother does with a sick child. She reached out a hand to touch my forehead, in search of a fever.

I bobbed and weaved my head out of her reach, much like a prize fighter in the boxing ring. I put my hands up in a fighting position and shuffled my feet around her. She pivoted, keeping me in her sights. I breathed loudly as my lungs cried out for oxygen and my heart rate soared.

“Chuck, what’s your problem?” she asked as a red glow spread across her face.

I gave her the okay sign with my fingers as I continued backpedalling out of her reach.

“Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong,” she said through clenched teeth.

Like most wives, Dusty was a smart detective who saw through her husband’s smoke screens. When she recognized them for what they were, she turned into a relentless, braying bloodhound with her nose down to the trail, searching for the truth.

“Honey, can’t you talk?” she finally asked.

In exasperation, she faked a slap to my face with her left hand. I moved my hands up to ward off the blow. The defensive maneuver opened up my stomach for a frontal attack. She counter-punched with an index finger to my gut. I gasped. At the same time, a few syllables tumbled over my lips.

“Dee, dee, bah, bah, hooka mah hundae…”

She wrinkled her nose in shock.

“Dee, dee, bah, bah, hooka mah hundae.  What is that gibberish, Swahili?” she said.

What started out badly for me, had now deteriorated and spun out of control, heading for a total melt down. Grasping at straws, I grabbed her and kissed her. She wiggled in frustration, attempting to get loose of my clutches. Then, I held her at arm’s length and looked into her eyes. Her inner temperature gauge shot past the boiling point into the meltdown area. She was red-hot furious.

I released her, turned around, and headed toward our black Toyota Land Cruiser. After a few steps, I looked over my shoulder and motioned for her to follow. Next, I ran toward the SUV. My only hope was that Dusty’s curiosity would override her common sense, causing her to follow me without calling out, and thereby, creating an even bigger embarrassment for the two of us.

Jumping into the gray leather driver’s seat, I reached over to open the passenger door. A yellow blur with blond hair swept into the passenger’s seat. I put a forefinger to my lips, pleading for quiet and reached for a yellow legal pad in the pocket behind her seat.

I scrawled furiously on the pad:

 I have had an experience with God and can only speak in tongues.

Dusty leaned over, read the words and snickered.

“Charles Haddon Brewster, Jr., that’s hilarious. Where do you come up with these things? From watching those silly charismatics on television?”

She covered her mouth with her hand to veil her mirth. As she did, the sun mirrored off her charm bracelet, the one I bought her on eBay for Valentine’s Day. She loved jewelry.

I pointed toward the pad, nodded my head and wrote another message:

It’s true! And I had a visit from an angel who talked with me about some really important things. 

This time, she slid over against the passenger door, as far away as possible from me, like I had leprosy or something. She shook her head in disbelief.

“No. You can’t be, you can’t be. We don’t even believe in stuff like that. It’s not scriptural.” Then, she paused for a moment before adding, “You’re still joking, aren’t you? Well, it’s time to get serious, okay? We have to head over to my parents’ home.”

She smoothed her dress with her hand.

I shrugged my shoulders and wrote:

It doesn’t matter what we think.  Honey, it’s real. I speak in tongues.

Her lips moved as she read the note. She then threw the pad into the back seat.

“Take me home and do it now. Why are you acting like such a jerk?” she said through quivering lips.

Diamond-like droplets formed in the corners of her eyes. She groped for her purse sitting on the dash, but her effort proved clumsy. The purse fell onto the carpet, spilling the contents out. Her inner dam broke because of this added mishap. Tears cascaded down her face. She reached under her legs to shove everything back into the purse. As she did, cries mixed with sniffles filled the vehicle.

I looked at her. My heart ached. Nothing melted my harsh attitudes quicker than seeing her crying over something which I had done. I hated it. So, I leaned toward her.

“Dee, dee, bah, bah –” I whispered without thinking about what I was saying.

She pushed me away with outstretched hands. Her tears dried up as soon as her inner anger shot past the evaporation stage.

“Don’t you try to ‘dee, dee, bah, bah’ me! Take me home now.”

She pointed an index finger toward the exit of the church’s parking lot and gave me a look which announced no more messing around with Dusty Brewster. She had had enough.

(This is a scene from my soon to be published novel, Deceived Dead And Delivered.)

It’s that time once again when political machines are cranked up and we will hear the 24/7 mantra, “This is the most important presidential election ever!”

And like past elections, we can expect to see social issues served up as hors d’oeuvres to us hungry voters in the early stages of the campaigns, with abortion being one of the special dishes.

On the one team, the presidential nominee will swear allegiance to Roe v. Wade and the supposed right of a woman to choose whether a baby should continue living in her womb or not. Then, of course, the nominee will utter the required asides to those in his audiences who might disagree with his pro-choice views, “I myself am against abortion, but I believe the decision should be made by pregnant women and not by us politicians.”

The other team’s presidential  nominee will throw out well-chewed bones to his pro-life audiences. He will mention God, numerous Bible scriptures, the Bill of Rights’ claims for babies in wombs, and countless other ear tickling pro-life statements. Yet, he, too, will wink his eye and toss out asides to his audiences, by adding, “Although I’m against abortion, I will follow the laws of the land and serve all the people.”

Yada. Yada. Yada. Yada. Yada. Yada. Yada.

This social issue campaign cycle will eventually pass as the so-called main courses arrive at our tables. These entree selections will include: the economy, unemployment, imigration, Afghanistan, Iraq, Israel, national debt, energy independence, Wall Street, and so forth.

So, will Roe v. Wade ever be overturned?

America had its chance on November 4, 2008, to elect two pro-life candidates (McCain and Palin) to the White House, but instead, our nation elected two pro-abortion candidates (Obama and Biden).

Now, I understand there were other campaign issues besides abortion in 2008 and that John McCain and Sarah Palin were imperfect candidates, but then again, Samuel’s two sons were imperfect candidates to replace the prophet as the Judge of Israel in 1050 BC. Thus, the people clamored for change.

What did God do?

“Do everything they say to you,” the LORD replied, “for it is Me they are rejecting, not you. They don’t want Me to be their king any longer. (1 Samuel 8: 7 NLT)

God gave the Israeli people exactly what they wanted – a king.  And soon enough, the Israelis regretted their decision, but Israel never again returned to a system where God was the only king over the nation. The people did live under the reigns of a few good kings, but mostly, they suffered under bad kings, whose sins caused Israel  immense grief, of which many of these same problems still remain today.

Therefore, if Israel is a living testimony we can watch and learn from, then I believe Roe v. Wade will never be overturned. McCain and Palin had the right heart attitudes on abortion, but were judged by the voters to be imperfect on other issues. Thus, they were not elected.

Since the election, two new justices have been selected for the Supreme Court. Both endorse Roe v. Wade and owe their allegiances to liberal politicians. They will most likely never vote to overturn current abortion laws.

Sadly, we Americans print “In God We Trust” on our money but do not trust Him enough to work through imperfect candidates so that the guilt of murdering 50 million babies could be removed from our land. We may soon regret our 2008 voting decisions, but like Israel, it will be too late.

Yet, I believe the sting in Roe v. Wade will soon be lessened.

(Continued in Part 2)

As I wrote in my book, New Wind Blowing, many of America’s problems today stem from our many mistakes made during the Vietnam War era. Those mistakes continue to fester underneath America’s skin and must be lanced so the poison can be drained off. That surgery must occur before we can expect new life (spiritual or otherwise) to come forth in America.

Of course, most activists, professors, and liberals look back at that era through rose colored glasses and think fondly of students speaking truth to the powers which governed at the time. And to be honest, some of that was needed. Yet, do we know who funded  much of the anti-Vietnam War movement?

Stanislav Lunev, the highest ranking Russian GRU Intelligence officer to ever defect, wrote about how Russia spent more than a billion dollars to fund almost every anti-war group here and abroad. Lunev stated: “…it was a hugely successful campaign and well worth the cost.”

Mixed in with the Vietnam War’s happenings were the Civil Rights campaigns of the 1960’s. Those undertakings were also tainted by the Russian GRU and KGB. Both communist groups spent millions of dollars stirring up racial tensions in our nation. Bogus letters were sent from the Ku Klux Klan to black groups. Conspiracy theories were planted in the black media about Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination being planned by the US government. And countless other successful efforts were carried out.

Deep Throat’s advice in All the President’s Men seems apropos for us today: “Just… follow the money.”

Now, let’s think about the racial tensions which have recently exploded over the slaying of young Trayvon Martin. Are we so naive to believe that civil rights activists, various groups, the media, politicians, and all the other trappings just sprang up out of nothing without any financial funding? And where did the funding come from?

And who benefits from racial tensions boiling over into conflict in our nation? Certainly, not our long suffering black American brothers and sisters who are struggling to survive in today’s economy nor do any other Americans.  So, if not blacks or other Americans, then who would benefit from racial turmoil in our nation?

America’s enemies, that’s who.

Maybe it’s Al Qaeda or Iranians or Chinese or Russians or a combination, I can’t exactly pinpoint which of our enemies are lighting the racial fires in our nation right now.

But I can tell you this: I have enough spiritual discernment to know something is fishy about all the racial tensions coming to the surface over the last few weeks.

And I pray the American church’s discernment system soon kicks in on the radar screen so eyes will be opened and more deaths will be prevented.

Otherwise, we will continue to be lowly pawns on Satan’s chess board, easily removed from the battle.

I was now directly in front of the wall, and close enough to touch the packages if I wanted to. I didn’t; I couldn’t.

I was looking at a wall made up of dead babies, beautifully and lovingly wrapped in ceremonial fabrics. Given how many bundles there were, I had to be looking at hundreds and hundreds of bodies. My senses were frozen. Even my sense of smell, morbidly alert for any odor, detected nothing. This entire wall was frozen in time. And the wall was not yet fully formed. There would be more bundles, and new layers of grief. Grief for each new pair of parents who would bring their baby to the monks to be set aside [executed], grief for the priests who would carry out the devastating task, and the grief of the universe for having lost one of its children.

…We did have a brief conversation about Buddhism and reincarnation, but I was too emotionally spent to appreciate the finer points of their discourse. I felt far less respect for Buddhists than I previously had… (The Pink Pagoda: One Man’s Quest to End Gendercide in China by Jim Garrow, WND Books, 2012)

Since 1979, China has mandated a one-child policy for all married couples. Those couples who have more than one child face severe fines based on their incomes. Therefore, it is not economically feasible for couples to have a second child unless  they receive an exception from the government.

Now, this becomes a major problem for Chinese parents as they age. Their retirement depends on their children taking care of them, and sadly males are able to earn much more money than females. As you would expect, males are much more desired than females by almost every couple. Thus, a problem arises:

What does a married couple do when an unwanted female baby is born to them?

Although China has laws against infanticide, they are not enforced. So, many parents of newborn baby girls drown them in rivers, abandon them in forests, take them to Buddhist monks who execute them, or countless other cruel measures.

It is estimated that 32 million newborn babies have been set aside, or executed, just because they are females since 1979.

Jim Garrow, the author of the Pink Pagoda, has saved 40,000 baby girls and has spent over $30 million of his own money to undertake this project. He understands that he can’t save them all, but he believes he must at least do his part.

So, what can we do for these female baby prisoners who are locked in wombs and awaiting their executions? We can fast and pray.

“Daddy, we cry out to You, the Father of all mankind, that You would grant mercy and grace to married couples in China and that their hearts would be opened up to the love of the truth. And that Your truth would set these couples free from worry and fear for their futures. Daddy, we don’t know what else to do but tug on You and not let go until You move on their behalves.”

 If I had not been there, I would not have believed what happened, not in a million years.

That particular Saturday morning was Farmer City’s annual Sidewalk Sales Extravaganza. Crowds of people filled the streets of the downtown business district. All checked out the sales bargains lining the tables in front of retail stores. Brown jersey gloves were three pairs for a dollar at Hesston’s Hardware. Dollar General sold Handi-Wipes for seventy-nine cents a package. Although the city was populated with nineteen hundred tight-fisted Norwegian and German-Americans, these blond-haired, blue-eyed conservatives liked nothing better than saving a buck or two.

My little concession trailer sat on the street in front of the court house. Snow cones, popcorn, and cotton candy were hot items for the first two hours. Then it slacked off around 11:30 AM.

I took a break and stood outside the trailer, smoking a cigarette, when I first saw the stranger heading toward me. And if ever a fish was out of water, it was this man. An African-American in Farmer City!

A four-day stubble covered his pock-marked face. Jagged scars stretched from the base of his neck to his left ear and he wore a black Oakland Raiders’ sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing gang tattoos on his bulging forearms. His eyes revealed the thousand-yard stare of an ex-con.

As he passed by, he nodded at me.

“Hi, how are you?” he whispered without breaking stride.

Being curious, I turned to watch him.

He walked over to a green bench in the city square and climbed up on it. Then, he cupped his mouth with his massive hands.

“Hey, everyone, listen up. I’m holding a healing crusade in Jesus’ name this morning. So, if you need a miraculous healing, come over here,” he shouted.

People stopped what they were doing and looked at him. They had to be wondering who he thought he was – an Oral Roberts or some other evangelist like that. But believe it or not, the crowd moved toward him as if he were a Pied Piper.

An eighty year old lady, with a heavily powdered face, scooted her wheelchair to the front of the group. She looked up at the stranger.

“Okay, sonny, let’s see you do your stuff,” she said with arched eyebrows.

A slight smile etched his chiseled face. He jumped down, and in one continuous motion, he grabbed her hand and flung her out of the wheelchair, saying, “In Jesus’ name, be healed.”

The crowd gasped as she flew through the air and landed on her feet. A big smile lit up her face. She lifted up her hands and danced on the sidewalk, praising Jesus for the miracle.

People quickly formed a line in the street. Some were young. Some were old. There were cripples, amputees, cancer sufferers, heart victims, mentally ill, and numerous others who were afflicted with some malady or another. They waited patiently for the stranger to pray for them.

As the stranger moved toward the first person in line, an arm reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The stranger stopped and turned around, looking into the face of a middle-aged man wearing a black suit.

“Yes, you wanted something?” he asked in a deep voice.

“I’m Reverend Adam Johnson, head of Farmer City’s ministerial board,” said the man with clear blue eyes. “We don’t believe you should be holding a healing crusade just yet. No one knows who you are accountable to. Allow us to check out your credentials. And if everything turns out okay – you can hold some healing meetings in one of our churches next week.”

The smile on the African-American’s face dipped downward.

“Who were you referring to when you said we?”

Reverend Johnson pointed to six men dressed in dark suits, standing under an oak tree just behind the bench.

“Those are the other pastors on our board. And like most pastors, we just want to protect our flocks from unknown strangers like you.”

The African-American put his hands under the armpits of Reverend Johnson, picking him off the ground. Then, he tossed him as if he were a basketball over the bench at the other six pastors. The clergy reached out their arms and cushioned Johnson’s fall to the ground.

The stranger stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists, as if he were deciding further action against the group. Fear crept into the seven pastor’s eyes. They stepped back away from him.

“Don’t you ever get in my way again! I came here to hold a healing crusade for Jesus this morning and people like you are not going to stop me. Do you hear me?” he proclaimed, pointing a finger at the pastors.

They nodded in agreement at the man’s words and fled the city square.

Then, the stranger turned around and began praying for people.

What happened next was unbelievable. It was as if Jesus Himself was holding a healing meeting in Farmer City. Everyone received his healing, no one was disappointed. When the stranger finished, he walked away. A few tried to stop him, but he shook them off.

“Just thank Jesus and give Him the glory, okay?” he said over his shoulder.

But as he walked toward me, he slowed down and stopped a few feet away from me. He eyed me up and down for a few seconds as I puffed a cigarette. Our eyes locked, but neither of us spoke.

Finally, I looked away.

The burning love and compassion in his eyes made me feel like I was standing naked in front of him. He knew the type of man I was and yet, he still cared about me. Why? I do not know, but I wanted to know.

When I looked again, he was gone.

 (Short story taken from Deceived Dead And Delivered, a soon to be published ebook from me.)

This short story was inspired by a vision which the Lord gave me in 1995. In the vision, the Lord showed me how America needs an army of black deliverers. These delivers will  come out of our nation’s inner cities and will help set us free from religious spirits. 

In 1998, I had a vivid vision of an upcoming race war between African-Americans and white Americans. The war did not take place, at first, in the inner cities, but rather, it occurred in the suburbs, the bedrock of white America.

It began with bands of rage-filled black youths attacking suburban areas with AK-47s, grenades, bazookas, and other weapons, killing white people indiscriminately. I saw bodies of white children, mothers, fathers, and seniors lying on the ground, their blue eyes staring upward and blood oozing from wounds. The young blacks stood over the bodies waving their AK-47s in the air and giving each other “high fives” for their successful outpouring of wrath.

In the next part of the vision, I watched white armies and bounty hunters tracking down and slaughtering black youths. The African-American rage and hatred toward white America was finally appeased when that generation of black youths was buried and gone.

Could this really happen? The stage is now set for just such a war.

If you have any doubts, just check out the recent incident of racial unrest in the Trayvon Martin slaying where civil rights activists have weighed in. The media have done the same. The president and his administration. Senators. Congressional Representatives. Black Panthers. Celebrities. $10,000 bounties. Marketing of hooded sweatshirts and other goods. Florida high school students vandalizing a Walgreen’s store.

All of this has happened without a grand jury being summoned or the facts being known.

From my viewpoint, we are one small spark away from a race war and guess what? The people holding the burning torches, such as politicians, media personnel, celebrities, religious leaders, and so forth, are blind fools with personal agendas.

“Wherever we want to go, we can only get there from where we are. Not where we think we are, or wish we are, or where we want others to think we are, but where we are in fact right now.

But political spin and pious euphemisms don’t tell us where we are. After a while, such rhetorical exercises don’t even fool others.

If we don’t have the truth, we don’t have anything to start with and build on. (Thomas Sowell)

So,what can be done to defuse the upcoming race wars?

Exercise foresight and be on the watch to look [after one another], to see that no one falls back from and fails to secure God’s grace (His unmerited favor and spiritual blessing), in order that no root of resentment (rancor, bitterness, or hatred) shoots forth and causes trouble and bitter torment, and the many become contaminated and defiled by it (Hebrews 12:15)

Bitterness is unfulfilled revenge and the only way to remove bitterness is through forgiveness.

For if you forgive others for their transgressions, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, then your Father will not forgive your transgressions. (Matthew 6:14-15)

This is what I believe African-Americans must do to defuse upcoming race wars. I believe they must go to white Americans and ask forgiveness for their continued hatred of whites. This may mean whole black churches going across town to white churches and asking forgiveness. Or black leaders bowing their knees in front of TV audiences. Or whatever. But it will have to be a dramatic effort on the part of African-Americans to rid themselves of bitterness.

The alternative to doing nothing and continuing on today’s path of hoping for racial change without a dramatic act of repentance, could well end up with black bodies lying in the streets of America.

What are the reasons Christians are imprisoned in North Korea, China, and other countries?

The logical answers: evil governments.

What’s the answer to setting these Christian prisoners free?

Once again, logic dictates that the evil governments must be toppled, but is it really that simple?

From a military viewpoint, our wars in Afghanistan and Iraq have largely been successes. The Taliban armies and the Iraqi armies have been defeated on the battlefields. Both evil governments were then replaced with democratic ones and the citizens are now allowed to choose their own destinies.

Yet, would you consider the people in these two nations liberated so that they can enjoy their futures in peace? No, absolutely not.

In fact, when America leaves Afghanistan and Iraq, both nations may face civil wars, infighting, and good chances of evil governments being placed back in power again. Both nations could easily end up resembling Vietnam after we pulled out in 1974 – bloody messes, with the people suffering more than ever.

Why?

Those who see you [Lucifer or Satan] will gaze at you, they will ponder over you, saying, “Is this the man who made the earth tremble, who shook kingdoms, who made the world like a wilderness and overthrew its cities, who did not allow his prisoners to go home?” (Isaiah 14:16-17)

For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 5:12)

All earthly governments and people are influenced by the god of this world – Satan – and his governmental hierarchies. Although earthly governments can be toppled by humans (as in the cases of Afghanistan and Iraq), Satan’s government cannot be removed by human efforts. Only Jesus can remove Satan’s government when He returns to rule His earthly kingdom.

Thus, the governments of Afghanistan and Iraq have been changed here on earth, but Satan and his governing hierarchy are still in power over the two nations and nothing has been done to lessen the powers of Satan. Therefore, little will change for the citizens as they will still live under these cruel demonic masters.

What needs to be done to set Christian prisoners and all of the people free in North Korea, China, Afghanistan, Iraq, and wherever?

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

Righteousness must displace evil in order to have an effect on Satan and his government’s ruling power on citizens of a nation. The more righteousness and godliness in a nation, the less influence Satan and his evil have on the nation.

So, I suggest the following prayer for North Korea, China, Afghanistan, Iraq, and all nations where Christianity and freedom are suppressed:

Lord, we ask You to open up the heavens, and pour out Your righteousness on North Korea, China, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Let these nations open wide so salvation and righteousness can sprout up together in these nations. (Taken from Isaiah 45:8)