God will break you so that your weakness becomes your greatest weapon. Your pain becomes your authority. In the Kingdom, scars are a résumé. You can’t lead women out of abuse if you’ve never crawled out of it. You can’t preach deliverance from shame if you’ve never worn it. Demons don’t respect degrees; they respect scars.

Hell doesn’t fear cute Christians. But when you’ve been through hell and survived it, the enemy knows you speak his language — pain. He can’t manipulate you with what you’ve already conquered. He can’t break you when you’ve already been broken. God allows breaking so that you become fluent in warfare.

Unbroken women are like shiny, delicate glass — beautiful, but fragile under pressure. God doesn’t want glass; He forges steel. Why? Because steel is strong. Because steel can hold fire. Women He intends to use must carry fire without burning out.

When everything is stripped away, the truth rises. Do you love God for His blessings, or for Himself? He will allow it all to fall apart so the Job in you says, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.”

Some worship for the blessings — the career, the house, the spouse, the family. But when life breaks you, your raised hands no longer say, “Lord, bless me,” but “Lord, even if You don’t, it is well with my soul.” That kind of worship shifts atmospheres. It isn’t self-seeking or proud. It’s the worship that knows a love like no other.

The breaking isn’t the end — it’s the multiplying. It’s loaves and fishes. A seed must die before it grows. Bread must break before it’s eaten. Jesus was broken before the Church was born. The world teaches independence, but God breaks us to end self-sufficiency and awaken co-dependency on Him.

Moses almost forfeited his mission because of a stutter — yet the same Moses struck a rock, and water flowed. Sometimes, you are that rock. Sometimes you are the sea that splits so others can cross. Your breaking becomes someone else’s refreshment. Your breaking becomes someone else’s deliverance.

The breaking isn’t cruelty; it’s surgery. God isn’t trying to harm you — He’s removing what’s harming you. When you rise from the ashes of what was meant to destroy you, you’ll realize: the breaking was never about loss, but transformation. It’s the refining fire — and you’ll find the fourth man standing beside you.

You won’t look like what you’ve been through. You’ll carry a power you never had before. If you’re in the breaking, don’t despise it. The fire that feels like it’s consuming you is actually refining you. What’s being stripped is not your strength — it’s your shell. God is revealing the weapon He forged in your weakness.

“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline.” — 2 Timothy 1:7