Our next chapter

As history is being redefined and things around us begin to unravel, it’s clear that God is writing a new chapter — not just for the world, but for you and me. We are standing in a divine moment of transition. And just like Jacob, we are about to face something we thought we’d never have to face again — a moment of reckoning, reconciliation, and redemption.

Jacob was about to get a second chance. But before he could receive it, he had to bow. Genesis 33 tells us that Jacob lifted his eyes and saw Esau coming toward him — the same Esau he had deceived years earlier. This wasn’t just a family reunion; it was a prophetic confrontation. It was Jacob’s moment of truth. Esau represented his past, his mistakes, and his unfinished business. And now, all of it was walking down the road toward him.

Maybe that’s where you are right now. Maybe God is bringing something back around — an opportunity you once missed, a relationship that needs healing, or a promise that felt delayed. But this time, how you bow will determine how you receive.

Jacob divided his family carefully, and then he did something powerful: he went before them and bowed to the ground seven times until he came near his brother. Seven — the number of completion and divine perfection. Jacob wasn’t bowing out of fear, but out of humility. He was symbolically submitting everything — his family, his wealth, his pride, his name — back under God’s authority.

It’s time for us to bow in this next chapter. To bow doesn’t mean to give up. It means to surrender our will, our timeline, and our control to the One who already knows the outcome. Bow your attitude. Bow your gift. Bow your finances. Bow your heart. There’s a blessing that only comes through humility.

1 Peter 5:6 reminds us, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.”

We are living in prophetic times — moments where the old systems are crumbling, where pride is being exposed, and where God is looking for those who will bow before Him rather than before culture. The same way Jacob bowed before Esau, we must bow before God. Because humility is the key to acceleration. When we posture ourselves correctly before Him, He brings divine alignment, restoration, and supernatural favor.

As a nation, we are being called to humility again. The same spirit that brought Jacob to his knees is the same spirit God is stirring in His people today — a spirit of repentance, restoration, and realignment. Jacob overcame not through power, but through posture. His humility changed the heart of Esau. What could humility change for you?

Maybe your “Esau” is that unfinished dream, the apology you need to make, or the fear you need to face. Whatever it is, bow before it in obedience to God. The act of bowing doesn’t make you weak — it positions you for restoration. Jacob’s bow opened the door for reconciliation, and what could’ve ended in disaster became the beginning of destiny fulfilled.

Lord, give us grace to trust You in this next chapter. Teach us how to bow — not just in posture, but in heart. Help us to humble ourselves under Your hand, that we may walk into prophetic fulfillment with courage and clarity. May we not operate in fear, but in faith, knowing that what’s ahead is greater than what we left behind.

This next chapter belongs to those who will bow.

The Courtroom of Heaven

My mind immediately reverted to a prophecy I received in September of 2011 from my leader, Apostle Matthew Stevenson. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had rushed into the church that day, running behind my normal time, and the only seat left was in the back — a simple folding chair. I didn’t realize then that Heaven had arranged that exact seat for me.

As I sat there, my heart was heavy. I was weary — not just physically, but spiritually. I had been in a long, painful battle that seemed to have no end. Right there in that folding chair, I began to weep before the Lord. Through my tears, I said, “This is between You and me, Lord. All I want to be is a good mother and raise my children. I’m tired of him fighting with me, God. I’m tired.”

It wasn’t an eloquent prayer — it was raw, real, and desperate. The more I spoke, the more the presence of God fell on me. I didn’t need music, a microphone, or a moment. I just needed mercy.

Then, suddenly, Apostle Matthew Stevenson asked over the microphone, “Has anyone seen Marie?” The sound of my name startled me. I hadn’t spoken to him that day, and I was sitting all the way in the back.

“The Lord woke me up at midnight regarding you,” he said. “Turn around and face the congregation.” I turned slowly, my eyes still full of tears. Then he released a prophetic word that would change the course of my life. He said, “You will never stand in another courtroom with him again. And if you do, the Lord is going to settle it in the courtroom of Heaven.”

Those words hit my spirit like thunder. I didn’t understand how or when it would happen, but I knew I had just heard from God. I tucked that prophecy deep in my heart.

Almost a year later, the word came to pass — exactly as it had been spoken. God Himself settled the matter. What the earthly court could not handle, Heaven had already judged. I didn’t have to fight anymore; God had fought for me.

Looking back now, I see how God was showing me something bigger than my situation. He was teaching me about His justice, His timing, and His sovereignty. Sometimes, when life feels unfair and people seem to have the upper hand, God whispers, “I see it all. I will judge it rightly.”

There are moments when you can’t explain what God is doing — you can only feel His hand moving behind the scenes. That day in 2011, I wasn’t sitting in the back of a church by coincidence. I was sitting in the courtroom of Heaven.

And if you’re reading this and you’ve been pleading your case before God — tired, misunderstood, or feeling unheard — I want to remind you: Heaven still rules. The Righteous Judge still hears. You don’t have to fight every battle in the natural when Heaven has already ruled in your favor in the Spirit.

Sometimes the verdict isn’t announced on earth until it’s already been decided in Heaven.

Lord, thank You for settling what I could not. Thank You for being my defender, my advocate, and my righteous judge.

When Heaven rules, peace follows.

The God that Sees me and you

“The God Who Sees Me”

Through Apostle Eckhardt’s prophetic word, God allowed me to know that He saw me. That simple yet powerful confirmation reached into the deepest parts of my heart. He acknowledged the pain of my past and the struggles I had tried so hard to hide. Sometimes, all we need is to know that God sees us — not just in our victories but in our valleys. When you understand that He sees you, it changes how you see Him.

One of the most powerful examples of this truth is found in the story of Hagar. God had promised Abram and Sarai a child, but when time passed and the promise seemed delayed, Sarai decided to take matters into her own hands. She gave her maidservant, Hagar, to Abram — a desperate attempt to make something happen that only God could do.

Hagar didn’t ask for that position. She didn’t ask to be in the middle of someone else’s promise. Yet, suddenly, she had something Sarai didn’t — a child. And sometimes, that’s how life happens. You didn’t ask for the gift, the position, the favor, or the calling, but God gave it to you anyway. Maybe He elevated you in ministry or blessed you with influence. And sometimes, the very people who opened the door for you will turn against you once you walk through it.

Abram told Sarai, “She’s your servant; do with her whatever you think best.” So Sarai mistreated Hagar, and Hagar fled. Have you ever been pushed aside, mistreated, or misunderstood for something you didn’t even ask for? Have you ever said, “God didn’t call me to take this kind of mistreatment”? I have. But here’s the truth: sometimes God will require you to endure uncomfortable seasons to bring forth what’s inside you.

The angel of the Lord found Hagar in her wilderness and said, “Go back and submit to your mistress.” (Genesis 16:9). That’s not the word most of us want to hear when we’ve been wounded. But submission to God’s word, even through pain, produces power. It was through her submission that God released a prophetic promise.

The angel told her, “I will increase your descendants so much that they will be too numerous to count… You will give birth to a son, and you shall name him Ishmael, for the Lord has heard of your misery.” (Genesis 16:10–11).

God met Hagar in the wilderness — not in a palace, not in comfort, but in brokenness. That’s where she encountered El Roi — “The God who sees me.” And it was in that revelation that she declared, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” (Genesis 16:13).

When God sees you, He doesn’t just look at your condition; He looks into your destiny. He gives you a promise that sustains you when nothing else can. Hagar didn’t just receive a word — she received vision. She saw the God who saw her.

There was a time in my life when I, too, felt cast aside and unseen. But through a prophetic word, God reminded me that He saw me. And when I knew that, I could see Him — even in the storm. That revelation gave me strength to endure seasons I didn’t understand.

Maybe that’s where you are right now — running, hurting, or wondering if God still remembers you. Let me remind you: He sees you. In your pain, your confusion, your wilderness — He sees you. And He’s not just watching; He’s pursuing you with purpose.

Allow Him to reveal Himself in your brokenness so you can say like Hagar, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” When you see the God who sees you, everything changes.

He’s still El Roi — the God who sees. And if He saw Hagar, He sees you too.

Overcoming

In March 1991, Apostle John Eckhardt called me to the altar to give me a prophetic word from the Lord. Sometimes in the midst of your storm all you may have is a prophetic word. It was Paul’s prophetic word that brought them to safety when no one else even believed they were going to make it. God was teaching me to trust Him. He was building my faith for my own deliverance and for the deliverance of those I would need to believe Him for. How would I ever really know He could set them free? He was doing it first in me.

These words were life to me. They would serve as an anchor—when I would lose my way in the next chapter of my life. When the enemy would tell me to walk away from God, I could hear

Apostle Eckhardt:

My daughter, the Spirit of God says your whole life has been one of struggle, struggling against the odds and overcoming things that seem to be in the way to stop you and hinder you. And the Lord is saying, He has made you an overcomer, to persevere and press past the obstacles in your home, and your personal life, and the things that would attack you and try to weigh you down. These are incredible odds, but it’s the grace of God, my dear sister, it’s the grace of God that has given you the ability to overcome these incredible odds. Your life will be one of miracles, and the people you meet will be miracle appointments. Don’t trust in what you see in the flesh. My miracle-working power is in your life to break you through incredible odds by the Spirit of the living God.

Tempted to take revenge

Tempted to Take Revenge

It was so difficult sleeping next to my now late ex- my husband that I couldn’t even stand to hear him breathe. My heart had become so bitter. I had invested so much—my love, my loyalty, my prayers—and I couldn’t understand how God was allowing him to get away with how he was treating me. I was torn between two worlds—loving him and hating him. I loved him because I saw who he could be, and I wanted us to be everything God said we would be. But I also hated him and wanted him to feel the pain he caused me. I wanted revenge.

And in that moment, God started wrestling with me. He reminded me of all the things He had forgiven me for—times I disobeyed, times I hurt others, times I fell short. But honestly, I didn’t want to hear it. I wasn’t trying to be convicted; I wanted justice. I was once the villain, but now I was the victim, and I felt entitled to my anger.

Yet God didn’t let me stay there. He said, “If you don’t forgive, I will turn you over to the tormentors.” (Matthew 18:34) That word hit me hard. I realized I was on the edge of losing my peace, my mind, and my purpose. The tormentors weren’t demons coming from the outside—they were the thoughts, the bitterness, the sleepless nights, and the replaying of every painful memory. God was showing me that unforgiveness was the open door.

He was trying to save me from destroying my whole house—from burning down what He was still willing to rebuild. I couldn’t turn to the left or to the right. I was walking a tight robe and my obedience became a matter of life and death and heaven or hell.

Every day, He drew me with cords of lovingkindness, covering me with His mercy. His love was the only thing standing between me and complete breakdown. His banner over me truly was love. I could feel Him holding back the floodgates of bitterness like He held back the waters of the Red Sea. The enemy wanted to drown me in resentment. He wanted me to believe that everything I had prayed for, labored for, cried for, sowed for, and fasted for was all in vain the day my ex-late husband walked out the door.

But God whispered, “Forgive him, not because he deserves it—but because you deserve peace.”

The Word says in Matthew 6:14-15, “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you forgive not others, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.”

That verse became my lifeline. Forgiveness wasn’t about releasing my ex—it was about releasing myself. God was trying to deliver me from me.

Then He made me a promise that shifted everything: “You will never be the sacrifice on another man’s altar because of his disobedience.” Translation—some people didn’t obey God concerning you. They mishandled you. They rejected the assignment. But God said, “I have another route to get you to the same destination.”

That revelation healed me. What I thought was the end of everything was really just a divine detour. God wasn’t punishing me—He was protecting me.

I learned that revenge will never give you closure, but forgiveness will give you freedom. The same God who defended David, who restored Job, who redeemed Rahab, is the same God who will fight for you. Let Him handle the vengeance while you walk in victory.

So today, if you’re tempted to take revenge, remember—God sees. God knows. And God will repay. Your job is to forgive, heal, and move forward. Because the same hand that held back the waters for Israel is holding you now.

Petrified of the inevitable

But nothing and no one was going to make me take my eyes off my inheritance or my unsaved family members. God had promised them to me, and that was enough. Even though the enemy had intensified his attacks, I knew I couldn’t afford to waver. I remember going to my husband, trying to encourage him to stay in faith and agreement with me. I said, “God has given me faith to recover all that has been lost.”

He looked at me and said, “But you won’t have me.”

That moment hit like a knife to the heart. He was detaching more and more each day—barely speaking, avoiding eye contact, sleeping in another room, and leaving the moment I walked through the door. The silence was loud. The rejection was suffocating. And yet, somewhere deep inside, I refused to give up on what God had promised. I still believed restoration was possible. I still believed God would fulfill His word—even if everything around me screamed otherwise.

Then, right in the middle of that heartbreak, I got a phone call that would change everything. Charisma Magazine wanted to do a feature article on me—on my testimony, my journey to Christ, and what it was like growing up in a well-known family.

I remember thinking, What an oxymoron! Here I was walking through the valley of my personal Red Sea—watching my marriage unravel—yet God was opening a massive door for ministry. It didn’t make sense in the natural, but it made perfect sense in the Spirit.

It was God’s way of reminding me that He was still with me, that He hadn’t forgotten my obedience, and that He was still going to use my story for His glory. It was as if the heavens opened and I felt the gentle approval of the Father saying, “You are My daughter in whom I am well pleased.”

I hadn’t preached a sermon. I hadn’t reached out to the magazine. I didn’t even have ministry cards or a platform. All I had was a yes in my spirit and a heart that refused to quit. That’s the thing about God—He doesn’t wait until everything looks perfect before He begins to elevate you. He will bless you in the middle of your storm to prove that the storm never had power over His promise.

Looking back, I see now that God was teaching me something vital: His favor isn’t dependent on people’s acceptance. His calling isn’t canceled because of rejection. Sometimes He allows doors to close in our relationships so that He can open doors in our purpose.

In that season, I had to learn that obedience to God will often lead you into lonely places—but it’s in those places where you see His glory most clearly. I didn’t realize it then, but God was shifting me from being known as someone’s wife to being known as His daughter. The very moment I felt most forsaken was the same moment He was introducing me to destiny.

So even though my heart was breaking, my spirit was being rebuilt. I was learning that favor and fire often walk hand in hand. One proves the other. And through it all, I could still hear Him whisper, “You may lose some things, but you will recover all.”

Negatives

There we were framed in a moment of time. We were mounted by a prophetic promise and vow that was holding it all in place. The nails that it hung on, were the same ones that held Jesus to the Cross-love. It began to lean to the side and the picture was now suspended in air. I didn't know if the love was strong enough to keep us in place. The image was no longer clear. I couldn't see him anymore in the picture with the kids and me. I thought mine would be different from all the other marriages that ended up destroyed and torn by adultery. The picture was ripped.

I was suddenly thrown in a dark room.

But in my spirit I had negatives that needed to be developed. I could see us together; we were called to the multitudes. My tears became the solution that allowed me to see the images that were still hid to the naked eye. I was interceding in the dark and even when it didn’t looked like anything; I still kept praying.

1 Corinthians 7:1616 For what knowest thou, O wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband? or how knowest thou, O man, whether thou shalt save thy wife?

When I wanted to stop praying, I couldn't. I was compelled. I was driven to this dark place where only God could help me see what no one else could. He was sharing his eternal secrets and causing the passions of Christ to be developed from the negatives in me.

Deuteronomy 29:29 The secret things belong unto the Lord our God: but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.

It was in this place, that I would discover the beauty of who he had created me to be. Why did I have to go through this? Why me? I was torn, split and I desperately wanted to quit. I didn't even know why I still wanted to be married anymore. But other things began to appear in the negatives as I kept weeping. The solution for the images was producing a clearer picture. It was no longer about what he was or wasn't doing, if he loved me or not, how angry and bitter I had become. I had finally gotten passed me, passed us. I began to see my great-grandmother, Clara Muhammad. I was close enough now to the negatives, that I could hear her cries and her cries became mine.

Pregnant at 17

With nowhere else to go, I moved back in with my mother, who was living with her sister and brother-in-law and their five teenage children in a two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. Mom waited for several weeks before she came in one day from work and dropped a bombshell on me: “I changed my mind,” she announced. “I made an appointment for you to have an abortion.” I was nine-and-a-half weeks pregnant! My heart sank. How many blows can a boxer sustain to the chest before his heart gives out?

I don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know we are not created to live a life of constant hurt and emotional pain. And I wasn’t sure how much more disappointment my heart could withstand before it stopped beating. I did not intend to abort my baby. I had been taking care of myself and going to my doctor for prenatal care. “What?” I exclaimed when I heard what she said. I was unable to say much more. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe what Mom had said. All I could do was weep. She was my last hope for survival because I had to have a place to live. But she suddenly reneged on our agreement, and I felt totally powerless to change her mind about the baby.

The Honorable Elijah Muhammad

In his book The Fall of America, Elijah wrote that the only way to “God”—whom he claimed was Master Wallace Fard Muhammad was through him:

I am the Door. By no means can you get by except you come by me. Your prayers will not be heard unless my name is mentioned in them. I am saying that you cannot get a prayer through to Allah (God) unless you mention me in your prayers. I have the key to your salvation, and I have the key to your hell. I can, if you will let me, pull you out of hell and set you into heaven. Then I can keep you in heaven; or I can keep pushing you and push you into the punishment of hell until you acknowledge that there is no God but Allah Who came in the Person of Master Fard Muhammad, to Whom praises are due forever, and that Elijah Muhammad is His Servant. There is no escape for you today. The only way is through me to Allah (God). Me first, for you cannot get to Allah (God) without getting to me first.4

My great-grandfather’s teachings are chilling, especially when you consider the scores of people who are in eternity separated from Jesus because they chose to follow him. Whenever I read one of his books, a compassion comes over me that provokes me to answer the call of God on my life so that I can share the truth with people who still follow his teachings.

[4] Elijah Muhammad The Fall of America (Phoenix: Secretarius MEMPS Publications, 1973), 205.

Muhammad Ali and me

Granddaddy would often surprise us and pick us up for the weekend. I can remember us being at Muhammad-Ali’s mansion, which was right around my grandparents’ home.  Granddaddy would send a personal driver to chauffeur us to Ali’s house for private Arabic lessons: I refused to participate. I would sneak out of class and wander around the very same house that had brought me so much joy earlier in my life.

Nevertheless, granddaddy Jabir was the highlight of my childhood. He had a family of his own and a busy career overseeing Muhammad Ali’s business affairs. But when he wasn’t negotiating multimillion-dollar deals for the heavyweight champion of the world, he would carve out time in his schedule to spend with us. And while most kids would have been happy to see their grandfather and get just one dollar, I was used to getting crisp, one hundred dollar bills from my grandfather. Granddaddy even surprised us one day and brought Muhammad-Ali to our home.

But he didn’t stop there.

Grandaddy and Muhammad-Ali

The Beginning of My Legacy

Elijah Muhammad ingrained his teachings into the hearts and minds of his children, especially my grandfather, Jabir. He was more than just a son — he was Elijah’s trusted adviser and the chief business manager for the Nation of Islam. But his reach went far beyond the walls of faith and leadership. My grandfather held influence in the world of sports and business, becoming the longtime personal manager of the one and only Muhammad Ali. His success eventually earned him a place in the Hall of Fame — a testament to his wit, shrewdness, and divine assignment.

Yet, even with all his accomplishments, our family’s story wasn’t without its fractures. Jabir, my father’s father, disapproved of my parents’ marriage because my mother was a Christian and several years older than my dad. His disapproval wasn’t silent — it was final. He disinherited my father, cutting him off from the wealth and resources that had defined our family’s status. It was a decision that would shape the course of my life before I even understood the power of legacy or the weight of separation.

Still, my grandfather’s world was extraordinary. When Ali became the heavyweight champion of the world in 1964 after defeating Sonny Liston, it marked the beginning of a historic journey. From 1966 until 1981, my grandfather managed Ali’s career, and for ten more years after Ali’s retirement, he continued to guide him — not just in business, but in belief.

Ali had been drawn into the Nation of Islam by activist Malcolm X, who was not only a member of the Nation but also my great-grandfather’s chief disciple. Jabir once told writer Thomas Hauser in Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times that he took on the responsibility of managing Ali at Elijah’s request — to make sure no one took advantage of him. “For twenty-six years, I’ve been teaching Ali about the religion,” my grandfather said. “My father put that job on me and asked me to show him the way.”

That line has always stayed with me — asked me to show him the way. Because even then, purpose was generational. Legacy was intentional.

Ali was good to my family. During a time when my parents were struggling to find stability, he opened his home to them in Chicago. My siblings and I still remember his kindness — how warm and genuine he was. Not long after, my great-grandfather gave my parents the money they needed to buy their own home. My mother found one not far from where Ali lived, and they settled there.

But what seemed like a new beginning soon became the breaking point. That home — that chapter — became the place where the foundation of my family began to crack. It was the start of the storms that would eventually shatter what I thought was secure.

Still, even in those broken pieces, God was quietly rebuilding something greater — a faith, a purpose, and a legacy that would one day lead me to understand my own calling.

Meet Ruth

Who is Ruth?

Please indulge me, as I take a few minutes to share about someone very near and dear to me. My sister, Ruth Muhammad.

If you have wanted a baby girl, Ruth was born that beautiful brown eyed, curly head, healthy baby girl. She was a dream of every mother at birth. Ruth was a big sister, a loving daughter, a kindhearted friend and a mother that loved her children in spite of her flaws, insecurities and troubles.

One of the things I admired most about my sister was her artistic abilities. She was so talented. We all ran to her as children to draw all of our art projects. Ruth was my first teacher in some places in my childhood.

I did not learn how to tie my shoe from her or my ABC's, but I learned how to choose my friends. I learned that doing drugs was not the answer to my problems. I learned the importance of finishing school. I learned that the streets would never be my friend. I learned to never trust in my natural beauty. I learned to value people every day because you never know when a loved one will be gone.

Some of our last moments were the most special to me. Ruth came to visit me and on this particular day, I was doing my homework and she bent down and kissed my hands, and told me how proud she was of me for finishing school. She was killed the semester before I graduated from college.

Another moment, I had before her passing, I saw her on the street on a cold night. I was going to the store. There I was 24 years old, she was 28, and the only thing she asked of me, was to hold my hand as we walked through the store. I did it without hesitation.

The last day, she came to visit before she was violently taken was 3 days before she was murdered. I had gotten a sore throat. She was sitting in the hallway on the stairs outside my apartment door. I asked her what made her come and I kept saying, I am not normally home at this time. I left school early that day.

She told me Jeremy, my three, soon to be four year old, had asked her for a Barney tape for his birthday. She insisted that she had to get him the money. She handed me a wad of change, running in and out the door several times to gather more, until it totaled $10 dollars. She was crying so hard. I asked her what was wrong. I'll never forget her last words to me, I'm tired now. I am tired of the streets and she knelt in the floor and just wept. She had a heaviness on her, I will never forget.

She let me know before she left that she was concerned about her children. Jeremy often asked for them, which would cause her to cry harder. See, Ruth had gotten on drugs as a very young teenager. This door was the slow demise of her life that was a constant struggle that lead to many other paths of destruction.

Ruth died a death that was every mother's nightmare. Ruth struggled with a lack of support. I believe proper support would have helped her end to be different. It is through these support systems that I am hoping to help other young single moms to overcome. I pray that through Ruth's Vineyard, my sister will find a place of honor on this side of heaven, through every woman that receives what she needed the most. Support.