When the Creator Turns Away: A Call to Examine Your Walk

This is a topic covered often within this gathering, because those who walk in terror will never know the truth, and they will never be saved.

To know whether or not the Breath of the AL’mighty has left you comes down to the proof in the Word and the context thereof. One of the best examples to understand this truth is King Sha’ul.

We know how the story goes. The King was given explicit instructions: Conquer, defeat, and utterly destroy the Amalekites 1 Samu’AL 15:3. And he failed to do so—sparing their king and all their good things—a decision that cost him the Breath of the AL’mighty. However, before King Sha’ul ever stood before Agag, King of the Amalekites, his downfall had already begun.

His first fracture with 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) took place long before Amalek, when fear ruled him instead of obedience. In the days when the Philistines pressed hard against Yashar’al, Sha’ul was commanded to wait for Samu’AL to arrive and offer the burnt offering. But as the people trembled, scattered, and hid in caves, Sha’ul watched his army melt away and allowed panic to become his counselor. Instead of trusting the word spoken to him, he stepped into a consecrated role that did not belong to him. He offered the sacrifice himself, violating the order of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) and intruding into a consecrated assignment he was never anointed to touch 1 Samu’AL 13:8–12. That single act revealed a heart that feared circumstances more than the AL’mighty who appointed him.

Samu’AL arrived and declared the sentence: the kingdom would not continue under him because he had not guarded the command of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) 1 Samu’AL 13:13–14. Long before Agag, Sha’ul had already lost the throne—not because of the Amalekites, but because he would not wait, he would not trust, and he would not honor the boundaries set by 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH).

His slide only grew worse in the next moment of pressure. In his zeal to appear righteous, Sha’ul pronounced a reckless curse over the people, forbidding anyone to eat until he had achieved vengeance against his enemies 1 Samu’AL 14:24. This oath weakened the army, placed the people under unnecessary strain, and nearly cost the life of his own son, Yahonathan—who, without knowing the oath, tasted honey and found strength 1 Samu’AL 14:27.

When the truth came out, Sha’ul was ready to put his own son to death to uphold his foolish command 1 Samu’AL 14:43–44. The people had to stand between Sha’ul and Yahonathan to prevent him from carrying out his own rash decree, declaring that 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) had worked salvation through Yahonathan that day 1 Samu’AL 14:45. This moment exposed a deeper problem: Sha’ul was no longer led by the word of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) but by the instability of his own breath. His decisions became rash, prideful, and rooted in self-preservation rather than covenant obedience.

So, by the time he approached the command to destroy Amalek, the issue was not merely that he spared Agag. The deeper truth is this: Sha’ul had already been rejected long before that battle—and he never cared to repent. His heart had already turned from obedience, his fear had already dethroned belief, and his pride had already taken root. The sparing of Agag in the Amalek campaign 1 Samu’AL 15:8–11 was simply the final proof of a pattern that had begun years earlier—a king who no longer listened, no longer waited, and no longer obeyed the voice of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH).

This is where many are today, though they profess to be servants walking with and hearing from shamayim. They do not wait on 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH). They move according to a will that has been set up in their hearts. And like Sha’ul, it all comes down to fear.

A perfect example is those who are afraid that they will perish in Babylon, so they do everything from prepping for maximum self-sustainment to fleeing to another land. And just as Sha’ul used the Word of Sacrifice without authority and out of order, so are those who read the command to flee Babylon in the Word and take it as a call to immediately get out of America—moving outside of context and ahead of the repeated end-time promise of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) to gather His people from the four corners of the earth.

These are the people who are not hearing from the AL’mighty, many of whom are cut off. Are they eternally doomed? Only the All-Knowing One knows. However, here are some key indicators that you have been, or are on your way to being, written off—continuing in the life of Sha’ul.

After the day Sha’ul spared Agag, the path of his life revealed a man already abandoned by his own heart long before the kingdom was torn from his hands. What followed after Agag was not the story of a king fighting to return to obedience; it was the slow, undeniable unraveling of a man whom 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) had already rejected, not because of a single mistake, but because his inner condition could no longer be repaired. The judgment was final because the heart of Sha’ul was final. And everything he did after Agag proved that truth in plain sight.

When Samu’AL confronted him about sparing the king of Amalek and the best of the flock, Sha’ul’s first instinct was not confession, but deflection. He blamed the people. He justified the sin. He insisted he had obeyed even while standing knee-deep in disobedience. That moment exposed the deeper issue—the man no longer had a heart to repent. His words were full, but his breath was empty. And it was in that moment that Samu’AL declared the final sentence: “𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) has rejected you from being king over Yashar’al” 1 Samu’AL 15:26. Immediately after that, the Scripture says something frightening: 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) regretted that He set up Sha’ul 1 Samu’AL 15:35. Not because the decision was flawed, but because the man refused the transforming power of obedience.

From that day forward, the life of Sha’ul became a living testimony of what happens when a heart turns away from 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH). The first sign was the departure of the empowering Breath that once strengthened him. The moment the Breath left, distress entered—and Sha’ul became tormented, unstable, and driven by impulses instead of righteousness 1 Samu’AL 16:14. His decisions grew darker with each passing chapter. He became jealous of Dawid, paranoid of imagined threats, consumed with envy the moment Dawid received honor. Instead of leading, he stalked. Instead of governing, he plotted. Instead of repentance, he spiraled deeper into destruction.

The heart that could not obey became the heart that could not submit. When Dawid soothed him with the harp, Sha’ul responded not with gratitude but with a spear 1 Samu’AL 18:10–11. When Dawid fought for him, Sha’ul schemed against him. When Dawid honored him, Sha’ul hunted him. These were not the acts of a king under pressure—these were the symptoms of a man whose inner lamp had gone out, whose oil had run dry, whose breath had been emptied out by his own rebellion.

Even when confronted with mercy—when Dawid twice spared his life—Sha’ul wept, spoke humbly, and then returned to his old ways as soon as the moment passed. His words could weep, but his heart would not turn. The man was inwardly unreachable. This is the ultimate sign of a rejected vessel: tears without change, remorse without repentance, confession without transformation.

His final descent came when he could no longer hear from 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) at all—not by dreams, not by prophets, not by Urim 1 Samu’AL 28:6. And instead of humbling himself, Sha’ul ran to forbidden divination, seeking a medium—the very practices he once condemned. The man who refused to wait for Samu’AL while he lived was now trying to drag the prophet back from the dead. That moment was the final seal. When Samu’AL appeared, he spoke the same judgment he declared years earlier: 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) has departed from you. The kingdom is not yours. You will fall.

The last chapter of Sha’ul’s life—dying on Mount Gilboa, falling on his own sword, his sons dying beside him, his armor stripped, his body defiled—is the tragic end of a man who once stood tall among the tribes. But the collapse did not begin on that battlefield. It began in his heart. The fall of Sha’ul was not the result of one disobedient act; it was the fruit of a heart no longer aligned with truth. His life after Agag proves that he was finished long before his body ever hit the ground 1 Samu’AL 31:1–6. And this is why 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) said He regretted setting him up as king—not because the anointing was wrong, but because the heart of the man refused the path of obedience, and once he turned, he never turned back.

Are you still heading in your own direction—led by fear? Do you cry tears when caught between a rock and a hard place, and the moment you are free, you act like it never happened? Simply put—do you talk the talk, or do you truly live by the Word that leaves the mouth of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH)?

Listen carefully! Truly, hope still remains. A clear indication is that you read thus far. People who are entirely cut off from the AL’mighty, like Sha’ul, never seek to be sure, never care to know why, and never pursue the path of return. They have complete tunnel vision and a one-track mind set up solely on what they desire, regardless of the Will, Word, and Way of the One who established the Path of Life.

But for you whom repentance still tugs on your heart, hope still remains. And here is an example to follow.

King Manasha stands as the clearest example in all of Scripture of a man who was truly cut off—yet brought back by humility. His story is the proof that no one is restored because of status, lineage, or past greatness, but only because the heart finally bows low before 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH).

No king fell farther than Manasha. He rebuilt every idol, raised altars to the host of shamayim, practiced witchcraft, consulted familiar breaths, and filled Yarushalayim with innocent blood until the city groaned under his rebellion 2 Chronicles 33:1-9. He led Yashar’al into corruption deeper than the nations 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) destroyed before them. If anyone was finished—if anyone had crossed the line of no return—it was him. And 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) did cut him off. The Assyrians took him with hooks, bound him in chains, and dragged him to Babylon, where he sat in humiliation with no throne, no power, and no escape 2 Chronicles 33:11.

Yet it was there—in the darkness—that the miracle began. Manasha finally saw the truth of his condition. He humbled himself greatly before the AL’mighty of his fathers 2 Chronicles 33:12. No bargaining, no excuses, no bloodline or kingship pride—only a broken man crying out to the One he had rebelled against, from a repentant heart.

And because humility always opens the door that rebellion slams shut, 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) heard him. The AL’mighty received his supplication, restored him, and brought him back to his kingdom 2 Chronicles 33:13. When Manasha returned, he tore down the idols he once built and repaired the altar he once abandoned. The man who had been cut off became the man who was reconnected—not by worthiness, but by humility.

Manasha is the example—rejection is never final when the heart truly bows.

Where is your heart when all hell breaks loose in your life? Are you pointing your finger everywhere you find? Or are you searching your heart, retracing your steps, and recounting your ways?

This is what happened to me when I was wrongly arrested for a crime I did not commit. The “justice system” tried to imprison me for 25 years, unlawfully charging me with kidnapping my own son. Though not one law was violated, my actions were not torah-led. I was moving with self-righteousness and impatience, trying to be in the life of a son I hadn’t got to know. Yet, when the cuffs went on, the rage in my heart ignited. I wanted revenge in some of the evillest ways you can imagine. I had a heart set on payback. And like Sha’ul, the more I plotted evil, the further from the Father I became.

It wasn’t until I looked around at the environment with an honest assessment of where I was that I came to realize two hard truths: I hadn’t done everything right (though not illegal), and there was no way I was going to be free until I fell on my face and cried out to the Judge who sits on the throne—the highest seat in the land. And it was when I chose this path that the door to freedom and restoration began to open.

See, I knew, in retrospect, that there was a moment in my wrath that I was cut off from the AL’mighty. I called home from behind the wall in utter fury, and my dad told me I needed to humble myself and petition the Most High. My response was that I did not want to hear that bleep! And nothing no one could tell me at that time would have changed how I felt. The problem was that I was afraid that prison would be my life. And my fear, as stated and proven throughout the Word, was rooted in rebellion to 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH). When I humbled myself, fear, desperation, and anxiety were gone. I could think clearly and respond effectively. And He honored me for my choice to reduce myself—the case was dismissed in the interest of justice.

Hope will always remain to be in the presence of the All-Present One when we present ourselves as a living sacrifice for His will. It is only when we have decided in our heart that we will live according to our own way that we are cut off from the Most High. And truly, the one who severs the tie is not Him, it is always the one who rejects Him.