https://mercy-found-me.blogspot.com/

The Limitless Ministry -TLM, Mama Ngina Street, Nairobi (2026)

25/11/2025

THE REALM OF MATURITY, AUTHORITY & DIVINE TRUST

Mr. Karuri, is a respected visionary and the founder of a vast empire known as Natab Group Companies, with branches across the nation and influence across several industries.

Every morning, his two children step into the headquarters of Natab.

The first is little Zuri, barely six years old.

The moment she enters the building, everyone lights up. Receptionists greet her, security ushers her in with smiles, and staff spoil her with snacks. She runs around spinning on her father’s executive chair, kicking her tiny feet, laughing as she plays with the swivel.

She is deeply loved, tenderly protected, and everyone in the building knows she carries the father’s name.

Amani, her older brother - twenty-eight on the other hand is, mature, focused, and aligned with his father’s heart.

When Amani arrives at Natab Group, the atmosphere shifts.

Staff straighten up.

Department heads prepare their reports.

Investors book meetings.

Logistics officers await his approval.

The board knows that when Amani signs, it carries the weight of the company’s authority - because he is no longer just a child of the Founder; he is being revealed as a son.

Zuri enjoys the environment.
Amani governs it.

Zuri receives affection.
Amani receives responsibility.

Zuri eats snacks at the reception.
Amani sits in high-level meetings ensuring the trucks are serviced, insurance for all branches is renewed, salaries processed, new investors vetted, and expansion strategies aligned with his father’s vision.

Both are loved.
Both belong to Mr. Karuri.
Both carry his name.

But only one carries his mandate.

This is the difference between being God’s child and being revealed as His son.

Romans 8:19 says:
“For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God.”

Creation is not waiting for God’s children.
Creation is waiting for God’s sons.

Children enjoy the Kingdom.
Sons administer the Kingdom.

In the Spirit, many believers are still seated at the reception. Enjoying the atmosphere of salvation, receiving miracles, being comforted, protected, taught, pampered, and shielded by heaven.

This is beautiful and necessary, just as Zuri’s place in her father’s company is beautiful.

But there is another realm.

It is the realm where the Father says, “You know My ways. You understand My heart. You can handle My affairs.”
This is the realm of sons.

It is where God begins to entrust you with His business.

It is where you shift from “Father, help me,” to “Father, use me.”

It is where heaven begins to place weight upon your words. Just like Amani, who does not spin on the chair but carries the authority of Natab Group Companies.

Sons legislate in the Spirit.
They sign heavenly documents.
They speak, and angels move.
They decree, and realities shift.
They steward territories.
They demonstrate the nature of the Father.

Children cry for protection.
Sons command the gates.

Children need angels to shield them (Psalm 91:11).
Sons have angels assigned to them for ex*****on and ministry (Hebrews 1:14).

Children are defended from demons.
Sons are recognized and feared by demons
just as in Acts 19:15:
“Jesus I know, Paul I know…”

Why?
Because sons walk in rank.

Even Jesus Himself was called Beloved Son only at the moment of obedience at the Jordan not at birth (Matthew 3:17).

Sonship is revealed when maturity aligns with responsibility.

In the Spirit, childhood is the realm of receiving.
Sonship is the realm of carrying.

It is the moment you begin to feel burdens that do not look like yours.

A burden for souls.
A burden for purity.
A burden for nations.
A burden for the Father’s agenda.
A burden for territories.
A burden for His will above your comfort.

This is when the Father begins to trust you with secrets.

This is when He invites you into the council room like Amani.

This is when He whispers instructions, strategies, warnings, blueprints.

This is when angels recognize your voice in the spirit gates.

This is when creation responds to your authority.

The enemy does not fear children.
But he trembles when a son rises.

Because sons carry the seal of Heaven.

And this is the realm the Father is calling His people into, a shift from reception-level Christianity into boardroom-level spiritual governance.

A shift from spinning on the chair to sitting in the council of the King.

A shift from “give me” to “send me.”
A shift from childhood to sonship.

You are entering the realm where the Father no longer only comforts you. He entrusts you.

You are stepping into the season where heaven says, “This one carries My mandate.”

The earth is waiting for your revelation.
Hell is aware of your rising.
Creation recognizes your voice.
And heaven is ready to back your decrees.

May you move from the courtyard into the council room.

From receiving miracles to administering them.
From being carried to carrying the burden of the King.

May the Father call you son.

Amen.

04/11/2025

VICTORY IN THE VALLEY IS BORN ON THE HILL

Exodus 17:8–13

The scene opens with dust rising in the valley.

Joshua is fighting.

Swords are clashing.

Amalek is pressing in.

Yet, above the noise of war, there is another battle. One not fought with spears but with lifted hands.

Moses is standing on the hilltop, hands raised, interceding, sustaining the unseen victory that determines what happens below.

This is the story of battles won on hills before they are won in valleys.

The quiet kind of winning that happens in prayer before the sound of victory reaches anyone’s ears.

Moses isn’t just standing he’s depending. His raised hands are not a show of strength but a declaration of surrender.

Every moment they stay lifted, Israel advances.

Every time they droop, Amalek gains ground.

The war below is echoing the worship above.

The physical is responding to the spiritual.

And isn’t that how it often is? The places we think we’re fighting hardest our jobs, our families, our callings are really reflections of what’s happening on the hilltop of our hearts. The battles are being decided where no one is watching, where prayer is laboring and faith is holding steady even when arms grow tired.

But fatigue is real.

Even the strongest hands tremble.

Moses grows weary, reminding us that no matter how anointed, leaders get tired too. And here comes Aaron and Hur steadying, supporting, standing beside him.

They do not take over his role; they simply ensure he does not collapse under the weight of it.

It’s a picture of divine partnership of what happens when spiritual support becomes sacred teamwork.

Meanwhile, Joshua is in the valley, fighting, obeying, learning. His sword is swinging in rhythm with Moses’ intercession. Heaven and earth are moving in sync. Joshua is becoming the leader who will one day take the people in, but today he’s learning that victory is never by might alone BUT it is by divine alignment.

And when the dust settles and Amalek is defeated, Moses doesn’t build a monument to himself.

He builds an altar and names it Jehovah Nissi.

The Lord is My Banner.

Because the victory wasn’t in his lifted hands or Joshua’s brave sword; it was in the Lord who covered them both.

Sometimes the valley you’re fighting in right now is only responding to what’s happening on your hill.

Maybe the real battle is not about the sword in your hand but the surrender in your posture.

Maybe victory starts with lifted hands, a humbled heart, and the right people beside you.

So keep standing.

Keep interceding.

Keep holding up your hands, even when they tremble.

Because somewhere in the valley, someone is winning because you refused to let go.

Victory in the valley is born on the hill.

31/10/2025

The Friends Who Carried Faith

Word spread like wildfire. Jesus was back in town. Everyone had heard about the miracles.

The sick healed, demons cast out, and lives transformed by the authority of His teaching.

Not far away, four friends sat quietly around a man they loved a man whose life had changed forever.

They had grown up together in the same neighborhood, gone to the same schools, and their parents had shared meals and laughter through the years. But ever since their friend was struck with paralysis, everything had come to a painful halt.

Once full of life and strength, he could no longer work, walk, or even hold his children. His sense of purpose slowly slipped away. Days turned into weeks of silence and frustration. Bitterness settled in like an unwelcome guest. He often whispered that he didn’t deserve to live, that his family would be better off without him.

Depression had built a dark wall around him one his friends didn’t know how to break.

Still, they never left his side.

They made sure his family had food. His children stayed in school. They visited often, bringing laughter when they could, and prayers when words failed. But deep inside, they knew this was beyond what human hands could fix.

Jesus was back.

The same Jesus who restored the blind and set captives free. Hope flickered again.

“This is it,” one of them said. “Our friend doesn’t just need a doctor. He needs Jesus.”

But St. Mark doesn’t tell us how many pounds the man weighed, or how far they had to carry him. Whether it was a few blocks or several miles.

What we do know is that faith gave them strength, and love refused to be inconvenienced.

They didn’t waste time. They took his bed, each one grabbing a corner.

The bed that had carried his pain would now become the vessel of his healing.

It was heavy, but faith made it light.

The streets were already crowded by the time they arrived. Word about Jesus spread faster than they could walk, and the little house where He was teaching was overflowing.

People spilled out of the doorway, pressing against windows, leaning in from every side no one wanted to miss a single word.

But not everyone in the crowd was there with hearts seeking Him.

Some came to scrutinize, waiting for Him to make a mistake.

Others came out of curiosity, to see what He would do next.

A few had walked with Him for years and knew Him intimately.

And then there were those like the four friends hearts burning with faith, ready to meet Him for their friend’s healing.

The four friends stopped for a moment, sweat running down their faces, breath uneven from the weight of both the man and the mission.

They looked at one another, their eyes saying what their lips didn’t.

How will we get through?

There was no way in.

No one was moving.

No one even noticed them standing there with their paralyzed friend, lying helplessly on his mat.

And yet, obstacles are not the end for those who seek Jesus. Sometimes people, crowds, circumstances. Even our own doubts will stand in the way.

Some will hinder us, deliberately or unknowingly, from reaching the Healer.

But persistence, faith, and love refuse to be stopped.

Jesus is never too busy for those who diligently seek Him.

One of them looked up - at the roof.

A wild, desperate idea was born. “If we can’t go through the crowd,” he said, “we’ll go above it.”

Without hesitation, they carried their friend up the narrow side steps, balancing the bed carefully.

Dust fell on their faces, hands scraped against rough clay and straw, but they didn’t stop.

With bare hands, they began to dig through the roof, pulling apart layers until daylight streamed through.

Inside, Jesus continued to teach.

Then suddenly, the crowd grew silent as a patch of ceiling began to open.

All eyes lifted.

Dust and debris floated down.

And there, slowly descending on ropes and faith, was the bed of a broken man lowered right before Jesus.

And then, Scripture says something remarkable. When Jesus saw their faith, He said to the man,
“Son, your sins are forgiven.”

He didn’t first see the man’s strength because he had none.

He didn’t first see the man’s perfection because he was broken.

He saw their faith.

Faith that climbed walls.

Faith that tore roofs apart.

Faith that carried another when he could no longer carry himself.

And then, to show that spiritual and physical healing walk hand in hand, Jesus spoke again - “Rise, take up your bed, and go home.”

The man did it. Immediately, completely, and without hesitation.

The once-paralyzed man stood tall, lifted his bed, and walked. The crowd was astonished. Some afraid, some rejoicing, all witnessing the power of God working through faith and persistence.

Obstacles will come.

People will block the way.

Crowds will press in, and not everyone around you is seeking Jesus.

Yet, if we bring our needs, our friends, our family, our hearts, and our faith to Him, He is never too busy.

Faith that refuses to quit will always meet Him, and through Him, the impossible becomes possible.

22/10/2025

Bent but Not Broken - Part 2

(Luke 13:14–17)

She’s still standing there, tears streaking her face, hands trembling, heart overflowing.

The worship team keeps singing softly,
🎶 “Oh, He touched me… and oh, the joy that floods my soul…” 🎶

She doesn’t care who’s watching anymore.

Her voice cracks as she whispers, “Thank You, Jesus… thank You.”

But not everyone in the room is celebrating.

A few rows ahead, someone leans to their neighbor and whispers, “Isn’t that the woman who’s always sitting at the back?”

Another rolls her eyes, folding her arms. “Why does it always have to turn dramatic?”

A man in a crisp suit shakes his head quietly. “The service is already over. Why now?”

Murmurs ripple through the sanctuary like a chill breeze.

Some sneer, others shift uncomfortably.

And just like that, the warmth of worship turns cold with judgment.

The woman hears it.

She feels the weight of eyes that have always seen her as “too much” or “too little.”

For a moment, she hesitates. Her lifted hands tremble, then falter.

The joy that just filled her chest begins to shrink under the noise of disapproval.

And yet… just like her, there are many in that same sanctuary, bent over too not in body, but in soul.

Bent by gossip that twists their tongues.

Bent by jealousy that poisons their joy.

Bent by unforgiveness that stiffens their hearts.

Bent by hate disguised as holiness.

Bent by comparison that steals contentment.

They stand upright on the outside, but inside they’re folded over by unseen infirmities.

The kind no X-ray can capture, but heaven sees clearly.

Because sometimes, the straightest spines hide the most crippled hearts.

But then that same presence she felt moments ago wraps around her again.

Gentle. Unbothered. Steady.

Because when grace moves, gossip loses its voice.

When heaven touches earth, no sneer can cancel a miracle.

It’s almost as if Jesus Himself is standing beside her unseen, but undeniably there.

And if the room could hear Him, they’d hear a voice both tender and thunderous saying:

“You hypocrites. You’d untie your ox or donkey on the Sabbath to give it water… but you’d rather leave a daughter of Abraham bound because it doesn’t fit your timing?”

The words aren’t spoken aloud but they echo anyway, deep in hearts that suddenly fall silent.

The sneers stop.

The whispers die down.

And one by one, heads bow not in shame, but in realization.

Because what they just witnessed wasn’t chaos.

It was compassion.
It wasn’t emotionalism.
It was evidence.

And as the worship rises again, softly this time
🎶 “Something happened, and now I know… He touched me, and made me whole…” 🎶

She lifts her hands again, this time higher.

Not to defend her miracle, but to celebrate it.

She’s not angry. She’s not embarrassed. She’s just… free.

Because when Jesus touches you even through the noise of religion, even through the doubt of others freedom finds a voice of its own.

And as the final notes fade and the crowd begins to disperse, she remains standing.

Smiling. Still. Whole.

She’s not who she was when she walked in.

And as she gathers her bag and turns toward the door, one thought fills her heart -

She’s so glad she showed up, even today.

21/10/2025

Bent But Not Broken - Part 1

The pastor has just finished preaching. What a powerful service.

The message was powerful.

The worship team is sensitive to what the Holy Spirit is doing. People are shouting, crying, falling to their knees. The presence of God is thick in the air.

You can almost feel Him. His presence pressing against your chest.

But not for her.

She sits quietly on the last pew, hands folded in her lap, watching it all unfold like a movie she’s seen a hundred times before. The tears, the tongues, the trembling hands.

All of it.

She believes it’s real.
She just doesn’t believe it’s for her.

She’s been consistent. Every Sunday, she shows up. Rain or shine, joy or sorrow. She’s faithful to the rhythm of church, even when she feels forgotten by the One she worships. She knows every song, every sermon, every altar call. But still... nothing ever happens.

She used to pray for change. She used to come expecting. But years have taught her how to sit quietly and not disturb hope too much.

And sometimes - when she watches younger women dancing, laughing, talking about wedding plans and answered prayers a shadow crosses her heart. She hates being a woman.

Not because she doesn’t see the beauty of womanhood, but because her womanhood feels like a wound.

She’s past the age people talk about marriage with a smile. She’s learned to dodge questions, to laugh off pity. What kind of man would look twice at a woman who can’t even look one in the eyes?

So she sits there, bent. Not just in posture, but in spirit. Bent by years of comparison. Bent by words that told her she wasn’t enough. Bent by disappointments that piled quietly on her shoulders.

And yet.
She came.
She always comes.

The worship rises again.
The keys begin to play softly, and the worship leader’s voice trembles as she starts an old, tender hymn:

🎵 “Oh, He touched me… oh, He touched me…”
🎵 “And oh, the joy that floods my soul…” 🎵

The melody fills the air gentle, familiar, holy.
People lift their hands. Some fall to their knees. The room is wrapped in that deep kind of stillness that feels like heaven leaning close.

She’s heard this song before. So many times. But tonight, the words don’t just pass her by they settle on her. They rest on the places no one else touches.

🎵 “Something happened, and now I know…”
🎵 “He touched me, and made me whole.” 🎵

Her fingers tighten. A single tear slides down her cheek.

It feels like the lyrics are reaching for her, like they know her story.

She looks up.
Not to the pastor, not to the altar but somewhere higher, somewhere deeper.

And in that stillness, she feels something she hasn’t felt in years.
A whisper.

“Daughter, you are seen.”

Not “healed” yet. Not “married” yet. Not “successful.” Just seen.

And somewhere in the room, heaven claps quietly.

The neighbors on both sides of her pew don’t even notice anything different after all, she’s just a shadow to them. The quiet, faithful woman who always sits alone, who never cries out, never goes to the altar, never makes a scene.

But something is happening.

She can feel her back straighten up. Slowly, imperceptibly at first. A warmth spreads through her chest and spine, like light breaking through years of darkness. Her shoulders roll back. Her head lifts. Her eyes, long downcast, finally meet the space before her - wide, alive, and unafraid.

Then it happens. She opens her mouth.

🎵 “Oh, He touched me… oh, He touched me…”🎵

The song slips out. Shaky at first, almost a whisper. Then stronger, louder. She lifts her hands, her arms stretching toward heaven, trembling but unashamed.

Her neighbors barely glance her way. They don’t notice her at first, still lost in their own praise. But she doesn’t care. She wasn’t singing for them. She’s singing because her soul can’t contain what’s inside anymore.

🎵 “And oh, the joy that floods my soul…” 🎵

The sound grows, full and unrestrained, carrying years of pain, longing, and silent faith into the rafters. Her voice, once timid and quiet, now blends with the choir and worship band, yet it has a clarity all its own raw, honest, and unshakable.

Tears stream down her face. Her knees bend and straighten in rhythm with the music. She spins gently in her pew, fully alive in her freedom.

For the first time in her life, she’s not just attending church. She’s worshipping God openly, fully, and without fear.

The Spirit moves through her in a way the crowd cannot ignore for long. Eyes start turning. Heads lift. Whispers ripple: “Look at her… she’s… praising…”

She is no longer a shadow in the back pew. She is a light. A living testimony.

And as the music swells and the congregation lifts their voices, she smiles through her tears.
She feels the freedom coursing through her, the joy flooding her soul, and the years of doubt and despair peeling away.

For the first time in a long time, she realizes something simple but profound.

She is glad she showed up today.

Because even in the shadows, even bent and broken, even overlooked. Coming was the first step to being touched, being seen, and finally, being whole.

She sits back for a moment, chest rising, shoulders eased, eyes shining. And in that stillness, she whispers quietly to herself.

I came. He saw me. He touched me. And I am free.

Luke 13:10-17

27/11/2023

One thing about God 🥺 He will restore you like it has never happened.

26/11/2023

The highest ALTAR is within me. Jehovah God Terbanacles inside of me. There has to be a DISTINCTION in every principality jurisdiction when the ALTER of God steps in!!! Situations will have to align with the ordained purpose of God. Healing for the sick. Liberty to the captives. Binding for the broken hearted. Freedom for the prisoners. 🙌🏾🙌🏾...

21/09/2023

Bwana ume tenda mema. Ume fanya mambo makuu 🙌

01/07/2023

In this month of July we are becoming more intentional in prayer. Kindly join us every 4am - 5am.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
Phillipians 4:6 ESV

Prayer meeting
Monday, Jul 3 • 4:00 – 5:00 AM
Google Meet joining info
Video call link: https://meet.google.com/gbg-kdun-jbw

25/10/2022

In the 21st century church we are at a place where we think that shouting is what causes Gods move while still in bo***ge. Coming together to put a show and performing christian gymnastics but not impacting anything in the spirit realm.

Many of us are unable to discern the move of the Holy Spirit because we are comfortable with having a good meeting and God not showing up. We are fine with our soul been stirred from hearing nice music but the Holy Spirit not manifesting through us. Because we are very dependent on our physical and intellectual strengths and our ability to sing or preach.

We have preachers and worshipers that can preach and lead us in songs to a frenzy while we remain in bo***ge and in need of deliverance. Its the high time that we don't just yearn for a good communicator but desire and hunger for the real deal of the manifestation of God among us and through us.

The father is seeking for true worshipers those that worship in spirit and truth. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.

The Limitless Ministry -TLM

25/11/2025

04/11/2025

31/10/2025

22/10/2025

21/10/2025

27/11/2023

26/11/2023

21/09/2023

01/07/2023

25/10/2022

Address

Website

Alerts

Contact The Place Of Worship

Shortcuts

Share