Here is the complete transcript for the video "God Is Awakening Your Spirit Today, He Is Lifting You Higher | Morning Prayer" from Jesus First, published November 17, 2025
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Isaiah 43:1-3 declares, "But now thus says the Lord who created you, oh Jacob, and he who formed you, O Israel, fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by your name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. and through the rivers. They shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned."
Imagine a seed lying beneath winter soil. It looks like nothing is happening. Cold presses down. Darkness surrounds. Silence lingers. But inside that small shell, a quiet miracle is underway. Cells awaken. Life pushes outward. The same sun that once felt far away begins to draw it upward. One morning the earth breaks and a green promise rises.
Beloved, today you are that seed. God is lifting you up. Even under the weight of impossibility, there is a holy stirring within you. The winter is not your ending. It is the hidden place of your becoming this morning. Take a deep breath. Let the mercy of God meet you first. You are not behind. You are exactly where grace can find you.
Perhaps you've been carrying worries you do not speak aloud. A delayed promise that feels like silence. A door closed after months of knocking. A heaviness you can't explain. Maybe you've tried to rise but keep getting pulled back by memories, opinions, or the soundtrack of old defeats. Hear the word. Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by your name. You are mine.
Your life is not random. Your steps are counted. Your tears are recorded. Your future is not fragile in the hands of the God who formed and redeemed you. When God says, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." He doesn't say, "If." He says, "When." That is a promise for real life. The kind with bills and deadlines, children and care, conflict and uncertainty.
You live in a world where rivers rise and fires burn hot. Yet the presence of God means the waters will not drown you and the flames will not consume you. The point is not that life has no heat or depth. It's that you are not alone in either. His nearness is your invincibility. His voice is your compass. His love is your heir.
And hear this again. "Since thou wasst precious in my sight, I have loved thee." Precious, loved, chosen. These are not labels you have to earn through achievement or performance. They are truths spoken over you by the one who made you. In a culture that measures worth by speed and likes and loudness, God whispers something better. You are worth rescuing. You are worth gathering. You are worth sustaining.
Today can be the day you stop negotiating with shame and start agreeing with love. Today can be the morning you stand on holy ground in wherever you are and say God is working in my impossible.
So how do we rise? How do we let God lift us when our arms are tired? The path is not complicated but it is consecrated. It will ask you to trust again. It will ask you to listen again. It will ask you to believe God in the very place that first broke your heart. But this time, you won't walk in alone. You will walk in with a word stronger than your fear and a presence stronger than your past. Let's walk it together.
Sometimes the hardest part of faith isn't believing that God can do something. It's believing he can do it here in this very room, with these very facts, after this particular history and all the time you feel you've lost. Our faith loves the idea of resurrection but trembles when the tomb is our own.
Yet heaven names things differently. What we call dead is often only sleeping. Jesus said it in Jairus's house and the truth still stands. Delay to us is development to God. Silence is a setup. Burial is planting.
You don't have to tidy your story for him. He comes close to the contrite and lowly, to revive the spirit of the lowly and the heart of the contrite. If hope has felt fragile in your hands, let this be your turning. God is lifting you up. And he begins exactly where others wrote the end.
In 2 Kings chapter 13, remember the startling moment in Israel's history when a man hurriedly laid in Elisha's tomb, touched the prophet's bones and revived, standing to his feet. No fanfare, no countdown, just contact and life returned.
If a prophet's bones carried that kind of lingering power, how much more does the finished work of Christ pulse with life for you now? Your breakthrough isn't waiting on theatrics. It's waiting on touch, your impossibility, meeting his nearness.
Psalm 71:20-21 says, "You who have made me see many troubles will revive me again. From the depths of the earth, you will bring me up again. You will increase my greatness and comfort me again." Again is God's favorite word for those who think they've run out of chances.
So take a deep breath and step toward the one who always steps toward you. Borrow Micah's holy defiance in Micah 7:8. "Do not rejoice over me, my enemy. When I fall, I shall rise. When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me." This isn't denial, it's agreement: agreement that the God who rejoices over you will quiet you with his love and exalt over you with singing.
Whisper it like a decision: Lord, lift what I could not lift. Work where I could not work. Do here what only you can do. And watch the room change. Not because your past vanishes, but because his presence now decides your future. What felt sealed is scheduled for restoration. What felt finished is becoming the beginning of a chapter better than the one you dared to ask for.
My brothers and sisters, there is still a part of you fighting to rise. And God sees it. He is not waiting for a roar before he responds. He moves at the sound of a whisper. Isaiah 42:3 says, "A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench." That is your assurance. Even if your courage feels thin, he will not snuff it out. He will shelter it and breathe it brighter.
Let Psalm 18:28 settle over you like warm light. "For it is you who light my lamp. The Lord my God lightens my darkness." The very ember that kept you from giving up is God's invitation point. You don't have to manufacture a stronger flame. You only have to agree with the one who protects the one you have.
This is how lifting begins. Not with you impressing heaven but with heaven empowering your honest yes.
Consider Jehoiachin in 2 Kings chapter 25, a forgotten king who sat in a foreign prison for years until in the 37th year of the exile Evil-Merodach king of Babylon lifted up the head of Jehoiachin and spoke kindly to him and gave him a seat above the seats of the kings who were with him in Babylon. Overnight his garments changed, his chains fell, and he ate at the royal table with a daily provision all the days of his life. No campaign, no leverage, just mercy that moved him from confinement to communion.
If a captive could be remembered and raised like that, you can be too. Grace knows where you are, calls you by name, and brings you to a place you could never earn.
Let this promise in Zechariah 4:10 steady your hope, "Who has despised the day of small things?" God is lifting you up and he is doing it right where the story insisted nothing more could happen. So stand with the spark, not the storm. If you can't pray long, pray true. "Jesus lift me." If you can't shout victory, whisper a vow: "I will not quit."
Hold fast to this promise in Hebrews 10:35-36, "Do not throw away your confidence which has great reward. You have need of endurance." Let the word become oxygen for your inner life. As it is written in Psalm 119:50, "This is my comfort in my affliction, that your word has given me life." Set your face like flint and refuse the old agreement with despair.
Isaiah 50:7 reminds us, "The Lord God helps me. Therefore, I have set my face like flint." You are not striving to earn his nearness. You are yielding to it. And as you yield, strength meets you step by step. Peace settles the noise and the path you could not see begins to open under your feet.
God is working in your impossible and the proof is this unbreakable ember within you, alive, kept, and now by his hand rising.
Beloved, the ember God just fanned in you needs air and shelter. This is why Jesus sometimes reduces a crowd to a remnant before a wonder because the room around your faith matters. Let the Lord invite you into a holy reset. Isaiah 26:20 says, "Come my people, enter your rooms and shut your doors behind you. Hide yourselves for a little while." That's not isolation; that's incubation. It's God lifting you by lifting the standard around you, quieting the voices that keep grabbing the microphone in your mind, and arranging your inner world so hope can breathe without being heckled.
Ask gently but honestly, "Who gets access when I'm most vulnerable? Who speaks when I'm one breath from believing or one inch from quitting?" This is not about loving fewer people. It's about letting God curate your front row so the word he planted in you isn't trampled before it takes root.
Remember the widow in 2 Kings chapter 4 who came to Elisha with nothing but a small jar of oil. The prophet's instruction was precise: Borrow vessels, go in and shut the door. Behind that closed door, away from prying eyes and predicting tongues, the little she had became more than enough. Vessel after vessel filled until there were no more to receive.
The miracle was not loud. It was protected. Do the same with what God is growing in you. Close the door on commentary that turns courage into calculation. Bring your empty places to the table. Pour what you have, however small, in the presence of the one who multiplies. Boundaries aren't barriers to love. They are shelves strong enough to hold what God is placing in your life.
As you guard the poor, you'll discover what looked meager carries a future. Because God is working in your impossible while you simply make room.
Now, quietly reset the atmosphere of your day. Trade 10 minutes of endless scrolling for 10 slow minutes in a psalm. Replace the running script of "what if" with a spoken promise. "Fear not, he has called me by name." Choose one faith carrier to text and ask for agreement. Play worship where worry usually wins. Set one simple boundary that keeps peace inside your chest. Say no kindly. Leave a group chat that drains you. Step outside for two deep breaths and a whispered, "Jesus, lift me."
Faith, like worry, is contagious. Hope, like panic, spreads. So, let your daily environment tip the scales toward belief. As you tend the room around your soul, you'll notice something beautiful. The spark burns steadier. The noise grows quieter. And the very space that once suffocated you becomes the chapel where courage stands tall.
This is how God lifts you—by teaching you to live in air that agrees with heaven. After you've tended the room around your soul, notice what happens next. God leans in early. He slips a sentence into your spirit before panic finds its voice, a stillness into your chest before worry finishes its case. This is his mercy, he answers on the front edge of the storm.
Receive his promise in Isaiah 65:24 as your cue, "Before they call, I will answer. While they are yet speaking, I will hear." You're not chasing a distant God. You're being shepherded by a near one.
So when a thought begins, "This will never change," let the earlier word rise like a hand to your heart. Only believe "I am with you." Keep the door shut to mockery and open to me. God is lifting you by interrupting the spiral and turning your inner current toward hope before fear can name the day.
Watch this pattern in scripture—through Abigail, the peacemaker who intercepted a king's fury on a dusty road. David was moments from a decision he would regret. Anger had the reigns, and revenge felt reasonable until Abigail stepped between impulse and outcome with a wise word, a bowed heart, and a better vision. Her voice did for David what God's whisper does for you. It broke the momentum of a bad conclusion.
David stopped, breathed, and blessed the interruption, "Blessed be the Lord who sent you this day to meet me." That's how heaven's kindness moves right into the path of your racing thoughts, offering a different ending than the one your emotions are writing.
If God could send an Abigail to a future king, he can send a line of scripture, a lyric at the right second, a text at the exact minute your courage thins. This is not coincidence. It is care. It is God working in your impossible by placing wisdom one step ahead of your fear.
Now train your soul to catch those answers. Give them a landing place. When comparison lifts its crown, answer with identity. "I am redeemed. He calls me by name." When old patterns knock, speak adoption over your story: "Since I am precious in his sight, he has loved me." Let the word become the last word in your inner courtroom.
Pray Psalm 94:19, "In the multitude of my anxious thoughts within me, your comforts delight my soul." Make a simple rhythm. Pause. Breathe. And repeat the promise you heard earlier. Meditate it. This is not performance. It is alignment. And as you practice, you'll find the day bending differently. Fewer detours into dread. More quiet yeses to peace. Because the one who speaks to your thoughts is guiding you through them, turning your inner life into a place where faith can walk unafraid.
When God starts answering you early, before fear can finish its sentence, he isn't just rescuing your afternoon. He's resetting the weather for everyone who lives under your roof, works at your table, or walks within your circle. The peace he plants in your inner life becomes shelter for tired people standing near you. The courage he slips into your thoughts becomes language for the ones who have run out of words.
This is why your rising is never a private luxury—it is a public mercy. Heaven's intercepts in your mind become invitations for others to breathe again.
God is lifting you up in ways that turn on lights you didn't know were connected to the same switch. Look at Obed-Edom—2 Samuel 6:11-12 says the ark of the Lord remained in the house of Obed-Edom the Gittite three months, and the Lord blessed Obed-Edom and all his household. No stage, no spotlight, just the presence of God welcomed into an ordinary address, and the blessing spilled into everything with his name on it. That’s the pattern—when God is given room in one heart, he makes room for an entire house.
Your choice to keep his nearness close, your worship at first light, your refusal to rehearse despair, and your decision to ask for help instead of hiding becomes a table where others are quietly fed. What once felt like a private revival begins to hum through budgets, conversations, calendars, and futures. God is working in your impossible and the people around you will taste the proof.
So nourish what he has raised. Keep it at the table. Guard it with simple obediences—prayer that is honest, scripture read slowly, counsel that is wise, rest that is received, boundaries that are kind, gratitude spoken out loud.
Hear the Lord's tender promise over your new beginning in Haggai 2:19, "Is the seed yet in the barn? From this day I will bless you." In other words, before the fruit is visible, the verdict is settled. Before you can measure change on a chart, heaven has already marked your days with favor.
Small, steady choices agree with great mercy, and the life that just stood up learns how to walk strong. Walk into today with your yes wide open as if it's a doorway God will use to bless everyone who passes by. Reach for wisdom instead of hiding and watch a friend find courage because you went first. Take one brave step—send the application, make the call, start the class, begin the thing, and believe that your obedience is bigger than this moment.
You are not only being lifted, you are being placed on purpose. You are not only being healed, you are being entrusted as you keep saying yes in these simple, holy ways. Strength will meet you, creativity will wake up, compassion will soften your words, and clarity will steady your steps.
This is your day to move gently but boldly—to carry hope like light in your hands, and to expect a different song over your home. Because the God who raised you is walking with you into every hour ahead.
Now, let's come before the Lord, pray together, and seal this day in prayer.
Heavenly Abba Father, Almighty God, I come to you with open hands and a willing heart. You know my rising and my resting. You read the thoughts that gather before I can name them. Thank you for calling me by name and claiming me as your own. Thank you that when I pass through waters, you are with me. When I walk through fire, I am not consumed. Your presence is not a distant rumor. It is the nearness that steadies me.
I welcome your presence into every room of my life—my thoughts and emotions, my body and spirit, my calendar and decisions, my relationships and responsibilities, my work and my rest. Today I choose to agree with your word above my fear, your love above my shame, and your power above every impossibility before me.
Lord
Jesus, breathe on what feels quiet or lifeless within me. Revive the
dreams I packed away, the courage I buried beneath disappointment, the
joy muffled by worry, the identity crowded by comparison. Help me to
steward my inner atmosphere so faith can breathe.
I surrender the rooms in my life that mock what you've promised—rooms
echoing with fear, sarcasm, or smallness. Quiet the noises that keep
grabbing the microphone in my mind. Give me wisdom to set gentle, godly
boundaries. Help me curate my heart with your truth and build a strong
trellis for the vine you are growing in me. Let my home become a
sanctuary where peace is ordinary, gratitude is spoken aloud and your
word is the melody of the day.
Place around me voices that speak life and courage. Holy Spirit, intercept my spirals. Catch my thoughts before they turn into confessions of doubt. Help me to answer lies with truth, scarcity with your sufficiency, despair with living hope. Make me slow to worry and quick to worship, slow to panic and quick to pray. Let your word become the light to every step I take.
Lord, you are my Jehovah Jireh. Be my provision where I cannot manufacture outcomes. Open doors no one can shut and supply wisdom for every decision. My Jehovah Rophe, heal what doctors cannot reach—memories, motives, and places in my body that ache for your touch. My Jehovah Shalom. Establish your peace at the borders of my mind and in the center of my chest. Jehovah Nissi, raise your banner over every battle, seen and unseen. Let victory look like obedience today.
We believe in your great name. Situations shift. In your name, mountains move. In your name, I am strengthened for what is ahead. Lead me in practical obedience. Show me the next right step, however small. And meet me with strength as I take it. Anoint my eyes to notice opportunities to serve and to listen. Anoint my ears to discern your whisper in the noise. Anoint my hands to work with joy and integrity. Teach me to rest without guilt and to work without striving. Let everything I do be done with you and unto you.
Lord, I lift my family and loved ones to you. Cover them with your protection. Crown them with your favor and keep them in perfect peace. For those who are weary, be their strength. For those who are sick, be their healer. For those who are anxious, be their calm.
Guard our hearts from division, our mouths from harshness, and our paths from the snare of the enemy. Bind us together in unity and compassion. Let forgiveness flow freely in our home. Guide the steps of our children, anchor the decisions of our spouses, and comfort the lonely and the far from you.
Write your name over our doorposts. And let your kindness be the culture of our relationships. As you lift me, let everything connected to me rise. Shift the atmosphere of my home because I choose worship over worry, blessing over bitterness, peace over panic. Use my life as an open door for others to encounter your goodness.
Lord, bless this day in the power of your name. Bless the morning with clarity, the afternoon with endurance, and the evening with rest. Bless my going out and my coming in. Bless every meeting, task, call, and conversation to be fruitful and aligned with your will. Father, bless my mind to think true thoughts, my eyes to see opportunities for kindness, my ears to hear your guidance, my mouth to speak life, my hands to build what lasts, and my feet to walk in paths of peace.
Let favor surround me as a shield. Let angels encamp around me. Let divine appointments replace detours. Let interruptions become invitations to grace. Establish the work of my hands and let the fragrance of Christ linger wherever I have been.
Today I will speak life. Today I will choose hope. Today I will move forward even if the step is small. I will say amen to your promises before I see them and keep saying amen while I wait. Close doors that are not for me and open those aligned with your purpose. Keep me from racing ahead of your timing or lagging behind in fear.
Teach me to number this day rightly, to notice gifts hidden in plain sight, and to return thanks often. Where there is brokenness, heal. Where there is lack, provide. Where there is opposition, be my banner. Where there is anxiety, be my peace. Where there is weariness, renew my strength. Cover those I love. Guard their minds, heal their bodies, steady their hearts, and draw them close to you.
Bless the work of my hands and the hands of those who labor beside me. Order my priorities with wisdom. Mark my tone with kindness. Keep my motives pure. Let your joy be my strength and your presence be my confidence.
Lord, I trust you with what I see and what I cannot see. I release outcomes into your faithful hands. I refuse the counsel of fear and receive the counsel of your spirit. I reject the narrative of scarcity and embrace the testimony of your abundance. I lay down the identity of failure and receive the name you give me: Redeemed, chosen, beloved, yours.
You are my portion and my song, my strong tower and my peace. I belong to you and you are lifting me. Let this day become a living "amen" to your goodness. Let every hour carry the echo of your faithfulness. I consecrate this morning, this mind, this heart, these hands, and these steps to you in the strong and beautiful name of Jesus. Name above all names I pray, amen.
My brothers and sisters, if this prayer lifted your heart today, go ahead and type amen in the comments. Let it be your declaration, your way of saying, "God, I receive every blessing you have for me today." And if you're praying for something specific, don't keep it to yourself. Share your prayer request below. We're a family here, and your voice matters. We're standing with you, praying with you, and believing that God is already working on your behalf.
Feel free to share this devotional prayer with someone you love today. You never know, your simple share could be the very spark that lights up their faith again. And if this moment brought peace, strength, please support us through like and subscribe to Jesus First Ministry. Stay connected with us every morning.
Every awesome day begins with Jesus. As you go into your day, remember this—God is already ahead of you. He's lining up favor, opening new doors, and guiding your steps, even when you can't see it yet.
So, walk with joy, speak with boldness, and rest in the confidence that God is with you every step today.
We'll see you again tomorrow right here at Jesus First Ministry. Till then, keep smiling, keep believing, and never stop praising. God bless you abundantly.
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