Test as Old as Time—Did God really say? And do we take Him at His Word?

There’s a question I believe the Body of Christ is being asked again in this hour—one that’s not new, but ancient. The first question whispered in the garden:

“Did God really say?”

It’s the oldest test in the book, and I believe it will be the final one before Jesus returns. The enemy hasn’t changed his strategy. He’s still trying to get God’s people to question His Word—His nature, His promises, His voice. And just like God’s people were tested before Jesus’ first coming—to believe He is faithful to do what He said—so it will be again. The question now is: Do we take Him at His Word? Do we trust Him to be faithful to fulfill every word He has spoken?

I believe God is awakening His Bride to the authority and power held in His Word—both logos and rhema. The written Word (Scripture), and the freshly spoken Word (those Holy Spirit whispers). The power in His Word isn’t just because it gives instruction—it’s because the Word is a Person. Jesus is the Word.

This is Who is coming. Jesus will return riding on a white horse, His robe dipped in blood, and His name is The Word of God—Faithful and True (Revelation 19:11–21).

And when He comes, He will destroy every enemy with the breath of His mouth (2 Thessalonians 2:8).

He’s not just coming for a people who believe in Him—He’s coming for a people who have been transformed by His Word. A people who sound like Him. A Bride who has been kissed by the Son.

Revelation 1 says Jesus’ voice is like the sound of many waters. Ephesians 5:26 tells us that His Bride is being washed by the water of the Word. And when we fast forward to His return in Revelation 19, we see that His Bride sounds just like Him—her voice, too, is like many waters. Prepared and purified.

She’s been with Him.

She’s been transformed by His Word.

She is ONE with Him.

The Kingdom of God is here, and it is coming. We’re contending to see the fullness of what Jesus paid for now, while anchoring our hope in the day He returns to fulfill everything. And the test of this hour, just like the one before His first coming, is this: What is on your lips?

What Are We Saying in the Wilderness?

The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for forty years, not because God failed them, but because they failed to believe Him. Hebrews 4 tells us they didn’t enter the Promised Land because of unbelief. And that unbelief wasn’t just internal—it came out in their words. They grumbled. They complained. They doubted God’s nature. They questioned His kindness.

But Joshua and Caleb saw the same giants in the Promised Land. They walked through the same wilderness. And yet—they spoke from a different spirit. They refused to put fear on their lips. Instead, they aligned themselves with the promise of God, and let that shape what they saw—until it became what they declared. And because of that, they were the only ones from their generation who entered the land of promise.

This is the test of every generation: Will we speak from faith or from fear? Will we rehearse what we lack, or will we declare what God has spoken? Psalm 27 captures the invitation so beautifully: “My heart has heard You say, ‘Come and talk with Me,’ and my heart responds, ‘Lord, I am coming.’” And later, “I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” Psalm 34 says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” But the truth is—you’ll never taste what you don’t trust. You won’t feast if you doubt the goodness of the One who’s prepared the table.

We are being invited to come into full surrender and trust to the Word of the Lord and allow it to frame our entire perspective—especially in seasons or circumstances that, in the natural, feel unfavorable or even contradictory to what God has promised. For the Israelites, the wilderness was never meant to be their home. It was the place where their vision and confession were meant to be refined. The provision was there. God’s presence was there. But because they didn’t recognize His goodness, they misnamed the season. They didn’t see it as a table set before them to feast on His faithful presence and provision—they saw it as punishment.

A Table in the Wilderness

Not long ago, I invited a sweet family over for lunch after church. I had made the most delicious spread, everything set out in advance. The table was laid with care, just like my grandmother taught me. Two high chairs were ready—one for Elliott, one for their baby. This family was new to our community, immigrants from another country, and they didn’t speak English well. They had accepted my invitation to church, but after service, plans changed. The mom had an unexpected commitment and couldn’t make it. Her adult daughter was still free, but the mother didn’t feel safe letting her come alone. It made sense—new place, language barrier, uncertainty. They weren’t sure if our family and intentions could be trusted yet.

But as I stood in the kitchen cleaning up the untouched food and place settings, saddened I did not get the opportunity to love and serve their family the way I had hoped— I kept thinking, “If they only knew I had a table set for them…” And immediately, I heard the Lord whisper it back to me: “If you only knew I had a table set for you.”

Psalm 23:5 says, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies… my cup overflows.” He’s not just preparing a table for us when things are good. He prepares it in the wilderness. In the unknown. In the presence of giants and delays and fears. He can be trusted in His faithfulness.

And that’s the invitation: to trust the One who sets the table.

Ruth understood this. Vulnerable and empty-handed, she came under the wings of the Lord, trusting not just in provision—but in the heart of the Provider. Boaz welcomed her, saying, “May the Lord, under whose wings you have come to take refuge, reward you fully.” (Ruth 2:12). He comforted her with his words of kindness (Ruth 2:13) Then he invited her to his table: “Come, eat the bread and dip it in the wine.” And she ate until she was satisfied—and still had some left over (Ruth 2:14).

It’s a prophetic picture of Jesus—our Kinsman Redeemer.

He invites us to His table not as strangers, but as beloved.

Not just to eat—but to feast.

To be safe.

To be seen.

To be satisfied.

Jesus is the feast for those who will come hungry. He is the table. He is the bread. He is the living water. And the invitation in every season is to trust Him enough to come to the table and feast on Him.

What Are You Feasting On?

What you feast on shapes what you see—and what you see determines what you say. If you’re constantly feeding on fear, disappointment, comparison, scarcity… you’ll speak from that place. But if you feast on His Word, you’ll begin to speak like Jesus.

The promises of the Gospel are not just distant realities—they’re daily bread for today. Add the whispers of the Holy Spirit that confirm his everlasting Word—now that’s a feast.

• Forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 8:12).

• A new heart and the Holy Spirit (Ezekiel 36:26–27).

• A personal relationship with God (Hebrews 8:11).

• Eternal life (1 John 2:25).

• Righteousness by faith (2 Corinthians 5:21).

• Inheritance as God’s children (Romans 8:17).

• Victory over sin (Romans 6:14).

• Peace with God (Romans 5:1).

• His abiding presence (Hebrews 13:5).

• Transformation into Christ’s image—sanctification (2 Corinthians 3:18).

• Full satisfaction in Him (John 6:35).

But if we don’t recognize the table that is set in front of us, we’ll keep living like we’re starving.

Jesus is the manna in the wilderness. Even when everything around us feels dry, He is testifying to the goodness of the Father. The wilderness has always been the place where what we’re feeding on is revealed—and what we’re speaking is refined. The sustenance we choose to fuel us flows from what we believe about the nature of the One who provides it.

Just like in Eden, we are given a choice: the tree of life, or the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The test hasn’t changed. If we don’t believe that Jesus Himself is enough to satisfy every need and every longing, we will wander—grumbling and searching—for some kind of man-made manna that will never satisfy.

In John 6, Jesus reminds the people that their ancestors ate bread from heaven—but warns them not to misplace the credit. If you believe it was Moses—a man—who gave the bread, you’ll miss the Source entirely. Jesus says, “It was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but My Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is the One who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (John 6:32–33). They had all eaten the same bread. But when they failed to recognize it as divine provision—or misunderstood the nature of the One who gave it—they misjudged the Giver Himself. And in doing so, they forfeited the power the bread carried to sustain them.

So before we can truly feast, we must surrender—surrender our preconceived beliefs about God and how we think He’s moving in our situation. Before we speak, we must surrender it all and be kissed by the Word. Psalms 2:12 says, “Fall facedown before Him and kiss the Son…” (Psalm 2:12). This is the posture the Lord is inviting us into—a heart laid low in surrender, a mouth yielded in reverence, trusting in his tender love and mercy.

Kissed by the Word

The Shulamite in Song of Songs cries out, “Let Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth.” (Song of Songs 1:2) That little phrase—“Let Him”—is everything. We don’t start by doing. We start by yielding. Surrender.

The Hebrew word for “kiss” (nashaq) means more than affection. It means to arm, to equip, to align. The kiss is a weapon. It’s intimacy and empowerment in one. When God kissed Adam with His breath, dust became a living soul. And even now, when we find ourselves low—lying “in the dust; revive me by Your Word” (Psalm 119:25)—it is the kiss of His Word that brings us back to life. The Word of God is the kiss of our Beloved, breathing life, power, and purpose into our surrendered places.

The TPT commentary notes that the Hebrew word for “kiss” and the phrase “take a drink [wine]” are nearly identical. There’s a deep connection between kissing and communion—between surrender and satisfaction, between being loved and being filled. It’s not just poetic—it’s deeply prophetic. Jesus said in John 6:56, “The one who eats My body and drinks My blood lives in Me and I live in him.” This is the abiding meal. Communion is more than remembrance—it’s union. When we receive His body and blood, we are receiving His love, His life, His very Word into our innermost being. The kiss and the cup are both invitations to intimacy—to be revived by His Word and nourished by His presence. So “Let Him”—Let Him love you. Let Him speak. Let Him feed you. Let Him form you. We abide in Jesus by letting his Words, THE Word, abide in us (John 15:7).

And this takes us straight to Mary.

Mary and Zechariah: The Posture of Our Lips

Before Jesus came, two people were given promises. Zechariah was told he would have a son, even in his very old age. Zechariah didn’t have to believe God for something unprecedented—only that He would do again what He had done before: give a child to an older, barren couple, just as He did with Abraham and Sarah. But Zechariah responded with unbelief: “How do you expect me to believe this?” Because of that, his voice was silenced until the promise was fulfilled.

Mary was also given a promise, but she was asked to believe God for something entirely new—a virgin birth. She also asked a question, but hers came from a place of child-like wonder, not doubt: “How will this be?” She wasn’t resisting. She was ready to co-labor. And then she said the words that still echo through eternity:

“I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be unto me according to Your Word.” (Luke 1:38)

That is the posture of a surrendered Bride. Mary believed God for the new thing and birthed Emmanuel, God with us. “She was blessed because she believed that the Lord would do what He said. “(Luke 1:45)

Zechariah was silenced—but God beautifully redeemed his voice through his son, John the Baptist, who became the voice crying out in the wilderness preparing the way of the Lord.

And I believe that’s exactly what God is doing now.

He’s doing a new thing. What eyes haven’t seen and ears haven’t heard.

“I am doing something brand new, something unheard of.

Even now it sprouts and grows and matures—don’t you perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness and open up flowing streams in the desert.”

(Isaiah 43:19 TPT)

He’s redeeming voices.

He’s awakening Marys.

He’s raising up a people who take Him at His Word—who receive His promise and pray it back to Him in faith-filled surrender. Declaring what He has said—until it becomes what they see.

Your will be done in my life.

These are the ones who say, “Let Him kiss me,” and “Let it be unto me according to Your Word.”

Let That Be the Sound on Our Lips

Psalm 2 reminds us that though the nations rage, the Son is already enthroned. Heaven is not in panic—Jesus is not pacing. He’s seated. Sovereign. Victorious. And then comes the invitation:

“Fall facedown before Him and kiss the Son…

blessed are all who take refuge in Him.” (Psalm 2:12)

This is the posture He’s inviting us into—one of surrender, reverence, and intimacy. A heart yielded. A mouth aligned. A life laid down at the feet of the King.

Romans 10:9 says, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” Salvation is deeply connected in what we say. It’s the confession of faith in an unseen reality—that Jesus is alive, seated at the right hand of the Father, ruling and reigning even now.

When we see Him rightly—when we recognize His Lordship—we learn to trust His hand in every season. We come to the table, not with striving, but surrender. Every word He speaks becomes our daily bread. His promises become our confession. And our lives begin to echo the same sound as the Bride in Revelation: a voice like many waters, washed in the Word, made ready by intimacy.

We overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.

And our greatest testimony in this hour may simply be this:

Jesus is Lord.

Let that be the sound on our lips. Let the only confession we carry be what the Lord has spoken.

Not what fear says.

Not what culture says.

Not even what our circumstances say.

Because when we confess His Word, we declare His Lordship.

And when we declare His Lordship, we make way for His Kingdom.

A Final Prayer

God is the one who both awakens the hunger and satisfies it. So if your heart is longing for more of Him, let this be your prayer—your surrender.

A.W. Tozer once prayed it like this:

“O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need of further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, that so I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away." Then give me grace to rise and follow thee up from this misty lowland where 1 have wandered so long.”

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Let it be done to us according to His Word.