Entering the Holy of Holies

Entering the Holy of Holies

There are seasons when the Lord doesn’t just teach you—He repositions you.

And once He repositions you, you can’t go back to a life that looks like the world and still pretend you’re satisfied. Because after you’ve tasted His nearness, normal becomes too small, religion becomes too loud, and “outer-court Christianity” starts to feel like trying to breathe under water. 

I’m going to say this plainly, the way the Spirit pressed it into my spirit:

It’s not okay for you to live a life looking like the world. 

Not because God is harsh. Not because He’s nitpicking your humanity. But because He’s inviting you into something so weighty, so clean, so holy, so living—that everything else begins to feel like dust.

The morning He opened the flap

Years ago, I used to lead morning prayer at a church I pastored.  Morning prayer ran from 7 to 8, and my idea of intercession has never been “me performing spirituality.” Intercession, for me, is laying before the Lord until He speaks—in whatever form He desires.

One particular morning there were five or six of us in prayer. I was laid out on the floor, and the Lord took me into a vision.

In the vision we were in front of the tabernacle in the wilderness—the tabernacle of Moses. And there He was—the Lord Himself—standing at the entrance to the Holy of Holies. He had the flap of the tent open. And with the kind of calm authority that makes your soul go quiet, He called me by name:

“Peter, come over here. I want to give you something.”

So I stepped forward.

Not as a tourist. Not as a spectator. Not as a man trying to earn a moment.

I stepped forward because He invited me in.

And that right there is the first battle most believers lose: we live like the veil is still closed when the Cross has already torn it open—when access has already been granted, and the invitation is already standing. 

Inside the Holy of Holies, the lid of the Ark of the Covenant was off. I could peer inside. And I saw exactly what Scripture says was in that ark: a golden jar of manna, Aaron’s rod that budded, and the stone tablets of the covenant. 

And I remember thinking, Lord… are You giving me these things?

He said, “Yes, Peter. I’m giving you these things. And for the rest of your life you will carry them—not only that—you will be able to impart these things to others as you flow through life.”

That moment branded me.

Because when the Lord gives you something in the Holy of Holies, He’s not giving you a sermon idea. He’s giving you a life assignment. 

Why doesn’t the church enter?

That question has been burning in my spirit for a long time:

Why doesn’t the church enter the Holy of Holies? 

Some people don’t enter because they don’t believe they can.

Some don’t enter because they’ve never been taught they’re invited.

Some don’t enter because they’re addicted to noise and allergic to stillness.

Some don’t enter because—if we’re honest—the Presence exposes what performance can hide.

And this is where the Lord has corrected the church over and over again:

Too much of Christianity has its focus in the wrong place—outer court when we’re called to inner court. Fixing ourselves rather than focusing on the Lord. Wrong paradigm. We are all dysfunctional. That is why the Lord came. 

So the Lord keeps calling: Come up here. Come closer. Come beyond the veil.

The Presence is where the impossible becomes possible

There’s a reason this theme will never be a side topic for me. Because the Lord taught me something I cannot unlearn:

It really is out of the Presence that the impossible becomes possible! 

Jesus said it plainly:

“With men this is impossible, but all things are possible with God.” 

A lot of believers quote that verse like it’s a motivational poster. But Heaven doesn’t speak that verse to entertain you. Heaven speaks that verse to summon you.

Because the “all things are possible” life isn’t produced by hustle. It’s produced by Presence.

That’s why when Moses stood at the edge of destiny, he said something that exposes every shallow version of faith:

“If Your Presence does not go with us, do not carry us up from here.” 

And the Lord answered him. And Moses kept going: “Show me Your glory.” And God responded in a way that teaches order—Presence comes before Glory. 

Beloved, this is why I keep returning to this: there are people who chase power, people who chase platforms, people who chase experiences—but God is raising a people who crave Him.

And the Presence is not an abstract idea. It is the state or fact of being present—God present, God near, God active. 

One of the first things the Lord drilled into me is simple and blunt:

If you don’t have it, you don’t want to go. 

That’s not cowardice. That’s wisdom.

Because the Presence is not just comfort—Presence is power in operation. 

Don’t despise the storm

And let me add something the Lord has repeated to me in “revival mode” seasons—moments like conferences, gatherings, fresh outpourings, and stretches where the Spirit is clearly pressing on the church:

Don’t despise the storm. Something is up. 

Because sometimes the storm isn’t proof that God left. Sometimes it’s proof that Heaven is shifting something around you while God is deepening something within you.

When God starts moving, resistance shows up. Distractions get louder. Opposition gets weird. Your schedule gets hit. Your emotions get squeezed. And if you interpret that as “God must not be in this,” you’ll back out right when the Lord is building spiritual capacity in you.

There are storms that are sent by hell, yes—but there are also storms that God uses to drive you into the only place where you can’t fake it: His Presence.

And when you learn to go into the Holy of Holies instead of panicking in the outer court, you stop living reactionary—and you start living anchored.

“Presence” all over the New Testament

Here’s what wrecked me when I started paying attention: the New Testament keeps hammering this theme again and again.

In my own study (especially using the Amplified and word-searching “presence” in the New Testament), it came up dozens and dozens of times—around 73 in that search. 

The point isn’t the statistic.

The point is the message Heaven is repeating:

God is not offering you a visit. He is offering you a life of “with.” 

And that’s why we can’t treat Presence like it’s a mood, and we can’t reduce it to a church service. Presence is the environment where God becomes more real than your fear, more weighty than your circumstances, more steady than your emotions.

And this is why I say it again: if you don’t have it, you don’t want to go. 

The bridge over dirt in the desert

Now let me weave in the parable the Lord wrote into my spirit through a piece of Israeli geography.

If you’ve traveled in Israel, you know the Negev desert is vast—about half the landmass of Israel is desert. 

And on the drive down toward Eilat, you pass through terrain that looks like it’s allergic to water. Dry ground. Wide empty channels. A landscape that preaches, “Nothing flows here.”

And then you see it.

A bridge in the desert.

A bridge that clearly cost a fortune to erect.

And most days, it’s spanning… dirt. 

To the natural mind it looks excessive. It looks unnecessary. It looks like something built for a problem that doesn’t exist.

But the desert doesn’t tell the whole story.

Because two or three times a year—sometimes suddenly—torrential rains hit that region. And what looks like “nothing” becomes overflow. Those dry channels become violent rivers. What appeared harmless becomes dangerous in minutes.

And in that moment, the bridge proves it was never foolish.

It was built for the day the desert would overflow.

And I believe the Lord is releasing torrential rains of the Spirit in this hour. 

And when Heaven releases rain, it doesn’t always arrive politely. Sometimes it comes like overflow. Sometimes it comes like shaking. Sometimes it comes like sudden increase, sudden exposure, sudden acceleration.

And in those moments, you don’t need more hype.

You need a bridge.

You need something that can carry you when the ground you trusted becomes unstable.

And I believe that bridge is what is contained in the Ark of the Covenant—the Presence of God—because the Presence of God contains what you need to cross in a day of overflow: fresh manna, living authority, and love-powered obedience. 

Because entering the Holy of Holies is not a concept. It’s a crossing.

It’s Christ bringing you beyond the veil—into the Presence of the Lord—so you can walk over what would have swept you away.

The three gifts inside the Ark

Now hear me carefully: the Lord didn’t show me those three items to impress me with Bible trivia. He showed me because those items represent what He releases when you come beyond the veil.

1) The golden jar of manna — fresh Word and fresh supply

Manna in the wilderness was daily. One day at a time. Rarely two. It forced Israel to live in dependence.

But in that vision, the Lord spoke to me in a way that rearranged my thinking:

“You will have fresh manna every day into eternity.” 

For me, it carried two meanings that have proven true through my life:

First: when I preach the Word of God, I will not have to recycle yesterday’s bread. There will be fresh manna—living nourishment for the people of God.

Second: even when finances are challenging from time to time, the Lord will ensure I have the resources necessary to advance the Kingdom—because Heaven does not fund callings casually; Heaven supplies covenantally. 

2) Aaron’s rod that budded — authority that is alive

The Lord didn’t hand me a dead stick. He showed me a rod that was budding.

And He pressed this into me: it’s budding for a reason—because authority is alive. 

There’s a kind of authority that is positional—title-based, defended, argued, marketed.

But living authority doesn’t need marketing.

Living authority buds. Living authority produces fruit. Living authority shifts atmospheres.

And the Lord told me I would have authority in the spiritual atmosphere all the days of my life—not authority to control people—authority to break chains, confront darkness, release freedom, and advance the Kingdom. 

3) The Ten Commandments — love that produces obedience

This is the one many people misunderstand, because “commandments” can trigger legalism in the soul.

But the Lord spoke to me about something higher than legalism.

He reminded me there are hundreds of commandments in the Old Testament—and in natural thinking it is impossible to keep them—because the flesh negotiates everything.

Then He looked at me seriously and said: “Those that love Me will obey My commandments.” 

So the gift isn’t “try harder.”

The gift is this: love will make you obedient. Obedience becomes fruit, not fear. Alignment becomes desire, not performance.

How do we “get” the Presence?

This is where I want to get extremely practical without losing the fire.

One of the first evidences of sin in the garden wasn’t just disobedience—it was avoidance. Adam and Eve hid from the Presence. Israel didn’t want to go up the mountain into His Presence. Cain was cast out of His Presence. 

So how do we lean into Presence?

Sometimes the answer is painfully simple:

• Gathered hunger: where two or three gather, He is present.

  
  
  
  

• Praise: He inhabits the praises of His people.

  
  
  
  

• The Word: He is the Word and the Word is Him.

  
  
  
  

• Union: it is no longer I that live, but Christ living in me.

  
  
  
  

• Surrendered obedience: not to earn Presence, but because love leans toward Him.

  
  
  
  

And here’s the deeper truth: the Holy of Holies isn’t entered with information. It’s entered through approach. It’s an inner-court reality that cannot be lived from the outer court. 

Presence brings you into the reality of who you are

And this is one of the most overlooked reasons God keeps calling you beyond the veil:

The Presence of God brings you into the reality of who you are. 

Not who you think you are.

Not what the devil tells you you are.

Not what fear labels you.

Not what wounds whisper.

Because outer-court living keeps you stuck in mirrors—constantly measuring yourself, fixing yourself, comparing yourself, diagnosing yourself.

But the Holy of Holies life lifts your focus.

It’s like the Spirit says, “Stop staring at the clouds. Learn to soar like an eagle above them.” 

And suddenly you realize: the Presence doesn’t just give you comfort—Presence gives you clarity. It reintroduces you to your identity in Christ, and then it strengthens you to live like that identity is real.

The Cross is the bridge, but most don’t know it

And this is where I want to put the simplest stake in the ground:

Christ has made the Holy of Holies available. 

This is not an Old Testament museum behind glass. This is not for a select few, for priests, for “special people,” for the spiritually elite.

This is the miracle of the Cross: Jesus didn’t just forgive you—He brought you in. 

But here’s the tragedy the Spirit keeps highlighting:

His Presence is available to each believer… but the majority don’t know it. 

So they live like they’re disqualified.

They live like they need permission.

They live like the flap is still closed.

They live like access must be earned.

Beloved, I’m saying this as clearly as I can:

Stop living like you’re disqualified.

Start living like you’re invited. 

Because the Cross didn’t just open a doorway into eternity—it opened a bridge for the Kingdom to advance through your life in this world. 

And when the torrential rains hit, you won’t need to scramble for a bridge. You’ll already be living in the place that is the bridge: the Presence of the Lord.

Carriers, not visitors

The Lord didn’t just call me in to show me something.

He called me in to make me into something.

We are not meant to be visitors of Presence—we are meant to be carriers. 

And here’s what I’ve learned: when you carry fresh manna, the Kingdom advances. When you carry living authority, the Kingdom advances. When you carry love-powered obedience, the Kingdom advances. 

That’s why I’m writing this now.

Because I believe the Lord is calling a people in this hour to come beyond shallow Christianity—beyond noise, beyond performance, beyond “I’m trying my best”—into the place where the impossible becomes possible simply because He is there. Much love.

Declarations

Father, I refuse to live in the outer court when You have opened the way into the Holy of Holies. 

Jesus, draw me beyond the veil until Your Presence becomes my normal, and Your nearness becomes my foundation. 

I receive fresh manna—fresh Word and fresh supply—for every day and every assignment. 

I receive living authority—authority that buds, bears fruit, and shifts atmospheres by the Spirit of God. 

I receive love that produces obedience—alignment without striving, holiness without religion. 

I declare: the Cross is my access, the Presence is my bridge, and I will live beyond the veil. 

And I declare: when the torrential rains come, I will not be swept away—because Your Presence will go before me, and Your Ark will carry me across. 

I declare that Your Presence will anchor me, distinguish me, and advance Your Kingdom through my life in Jesus’ name.