This year, I have grown much. In some ways, I have been transformed. God has done deep, necessary work in me, renewing my mind, refining my heart, and calling me higher. Yet my environment has largely remained the same. The rooms did not shift simply because I did. The systems stayed comfortable. The rhythms stayed familiar.

That realisation carries both grief and clarity. Grief, because growth often creates distance. Clarity, because stagnation is not a failure of transformation, but confirmation of it. When God changes you, what no longer grows with you will begin to feel tight, quiet and misaligned. Not everything that once held you can steward who you are becoming.

And so I release the expectation that transformation must be collective to be valid. Obedience is personal. Growth is holy. Fire is costly. I honour those who stay, but I will not dim what God has ignited in me to preserve comfort, mine or theirs.

I am not out of place.

I am out of season for what no longer grows.

I just don’t fit the system anymore.

This year, God delivered me from it. He gently, firmly shut doors I kept propped open as backup plans, relationships that tethered me to what felt familiar but was quietly suffocating my fire. What I called stability, heaven named limitation. What I called wisdom, God exposed as fear wearing a respectable coat.

The warfare did not come to destroy me. It came to clarify me.

It exposed the moment of decision: remain in the tug-of-war, protecting comfort and control, or step forward into the unpopular unknown, where obedience costs reputation and ease. Many feel it now, that deep, unsettled discontent, because the path ahead looks undignified. It does not flatter the ego. It does not reward compliance. It requires surrender. It will not be applauded by those who thrive on tame Christianity.

Few have chosen to embrace the fire, not because it was unavailable, but because comfort remained an option. Familiar patterns felt safer than surrender. Predictability felt kinder than transformation. The cost of change felt too high for those who had learned how to survive without burning.

Tame Christianity has failed us.

We cannot stay in those rooms and keep burning. They will keep dimming our fire, softening convictions, muting our voice and sanding down the edges God deliberately formed. They call it unity, balance, wisdom, or order, yet it often becomes a quiet agreement to stay small, silent and manageable.

This realisation carries both grief and clarity. Grief, because growth often creates distance. Clarity, because stagnation is not a failure of transformation, but confirmation of it. When God changes me, what no longer grows with me begins to feel tight, quiet and misaligned. Not everything that once held me can steward who I am becoming.

I am learning that outgrowing an environment does not mean I am proud, impatient, or unloving. It means God has moved me, even if others have chosen to remain. Fire always exposes choices. Some step closer. Others step back. Both reveal where the heart is anchored.

God is not raising a generation of polite spectators. He is awakening the ones who carry holy fire, the ones who cannot pretend any longer, the ones whose obedience will look foolish to the religious and dangerous to systems built on control.

In 2026, we do not need quieter believers. We need surrendered ones. We need those who fear God more than man, who choose faithfulness over fitting in, who would rather burn than blend.

This is not rebellion. It is consecration.

The wild ones are rising, not wild in chaos, but wild in devotion, courage, and truth. They are here to call the Church out of the dark ages of religion and back into a living, breathing relationship with Jesus Christ. They are here to restore what was lost, to speak what was silenced and to carry light into places that have grown comfortable with shadow.

Yes, you.

You know who you are.

💡Reflection

• Where have I stayed out of comfort, rather than obedience 🤔

• Which doors did God close that I secretly tried to reopen 🤔

• What part of my fire has been dimmed to remain acceptable 🤔

• What would faithfulness look like if I stopped managing outcomes 🤔

🎺Affirmation

I release every system, relationship, and identity that no longer aligns with God’s call on my life. I choose holy fire over comfort, obedience over approval, and truth over safety. I was not made to fit in; I was made to burn for His glory.

🙌 Prayer

Father God, thank You for delivering me from what I could not carry, the weight of who You are forming me to be. Give me the courage to walk forward without backup plans, without compromise, without fear of man. Guard my heart from bitterness and keep my fire pure. Let my life honour You, even when the path feels undignified. I choose faithfulness over fitting in and surrender every step to You.

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.