The world rarely sees it, but heaven always knows: there are men being made in the shadows. While others gather likes and followers, some are wrestling angels by night. While pulpits are crowded with noise, caves still house voices that carry fire. It is these men—those crushed, hidden, and refined—that God anoints with true authority. I received the following message from Brother Emmanuel Chima from Abuja, whose words captured the essence of this journey:
“Good morning my own pastor, you have once again made my day. As I scrolled my phone this morning, the first I captured was your write-up, ‘From Ashes to Authority, How Pain, Stripping, and Fire-Tested Faith Forge True Spiritual Power’—a classic. All the exposure you do are divinely inspired, a rare fervor, although made for His elect. After reading the book of Job, the most interesting to me was Job’s conversation with the very hungry Elihu. At a point, he reminded his principal that only God Almighty alone gives wisdom irrespective of age—a classic too. Secondly, he also reminded Job that God does not derive joy in putting man into suffering, but rather the Almighty intends to train him, tame him, so that he will learn not to be proud at the day of glory. In addition to this summit, Nelson Mandela in the best-seller text titled Long Walk to Freedom also upheld the same view. In conclusion, ‘Adversity’ is like one of the most strategic tools or instruments—e.g., a sledgehammer in the workshop of making man—as His core business. Your message is really circulating around the globe just as it was during the period of John the Baptist, a voice echoing in the wilderness. You are diligently doing your assignment as duly assigned. May God Almighty continue to inspire you, sustain you in all your needs, I pray this day in Jesus name, Amen. I also thank the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, for His help. Amen.”
Brother Emmanuel’s words are not just heartfelt—they are prophetic. They echo the voice of Elihu, the youngest among Job’s comforters, who, burning with holy hunger, reminded an elder that “there is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding” (Job 32:8). His reflection brings into focus a divine irony: it is often not the experienced but the emptied, not the old but the obedient, whom God uses to announce His glory. Age cannot purchase wisdom, neither can affluence purchase oil. The oil that endures must pass through the winepress of divine contradiction.
Nelson Mandela, in Long Walk to Freedom, wrote: “I have walked that long road to freedom… I have discovered the secret that after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.” Mandela, who spent 27 years in prison, was not just imprisoned—he was processed. Just like Joseph, whose chains became keys. Just like Moses, who was stripped of Pharaoh’s palace before meeting God in a burning bush. This pattern is ancient. It is divine. It is unchangeable. Before the throne comes the thorn. Before dominion comes discipline. And before you speak with fire, you must first be consumed by it.
God has never been in the business of giving microphones to unbroken men. Authority in the spirit is not noise—it is weight. It is not in saying “In Jesus’ Name” loudly, but in carrying the fragrance of Jesus because you’ve walked through the fire that burns everything else away. As A.W. Tozer once said, “Before God uses a man greatly, He must wound him deeply.” This is not divine cruelty. This is holy craftsmanship. A sledgehammer in the workshop of destiny, as Brother Emmanuel rightly captured it. In this place, the ego dies. The heart breaks. The will bends. And the man becomes useful.
The Holy Bible is full of this painful pattern. Jeremiah was called but crushed. “I sat alone because your hand was upon me, for you had filled me with indignation,” he cried (Jeremiah 15:17). Paul wrote letters in chains, not comfort. John wrote Revelation in exile, not on a pulpit. Even the Christ, the Son of the Living God, “learned obedience through what He suffered” (Hebrews 5:8). Yes, Jesus learned. He who was full had to be emptied. He who was Word had to be wounded. Because heaven trusts no authority that has not passed through fire.
So, to the stripped, the hidden, the misunderstood, the weary—take courage. You are in the divine workshop. The fire is not your end. It is your consecration. What the enemy called affliction, God calls anointing. What men call delay, heaven calls design. As the Igbo proverb says, “The firewood that is meant to cook the king’s meal takes longer to dry.” Be still. Be silent. Be faithful. Your wilderness is not a waste—it is womb. When the time is ripe, God will not just anoint you with oil; He will ignite you with fire.
And to you, Brother Emmanuel, thank you for your message. It is a seal of what the Spirit is doing across the earth. This is not merely writing. This is a revival. These are not just articles—they are altars. As John the Baptist was a voice crying in the wilderness, so shall many rise from their caves, their prisons, their pits, not with complaints, but with convictions. They shall not speak borrowed words but bear branded wounds. For from the ashes, they shall rise with authority—and they shall speak as one who has seen God.
Selah.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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