Before God Crowns You, He Breaks You
The older I get, the more I realize something we don’t preach enough in the modern church:
God doesn’t hand out crowns to unbroken men.
He doesn’t place swords in the hands of those who’ve never been cut.
He doesn’t send anyone into battle who hasn’t first learned to bleed.
THE HOUSE OF SHADOWS
There’s a room God takes His people into — a room we don’t brag about on social media, a place without spotlights or applause.
It’s dim, quiet, and strangely holy.
It’s the place where He breaks you.
You don’t walk into that room willingly. You stumble into it after every other door slams shut.
It’s where your strength finally fails…
where your pride collapses…
where your identity — the one you built with your own hands — turns to ashes in front of you.
In that room, you learn what every chosen man and woman has learned:
Before God builds you, He brings you low.
Before He trusts you, He tests you.
Before He crowns you, He crushes you.
THE GOD WHO BREAKS TO HEAL
It’s not the kind of breaking you’re used to — not the breaking of the world that leaves you bitter and hollow.
No, God’s breaking feels different.
It’s purposeful.
Surgical.
Holy.
Think of Jacob limping out of Peniel with a blessing and a wound.
Think of Joseph shackled in a pit long before he sat on a throne.
Think of David running from caves before he ever walked into a palace.
Think of Peter weeping in the dark before he preached in the light.
Think of Jesus Himself — the Bread of Life — broken before He fed the world.
Heaven has never crowned anyone who did not first bleed.
THE MAKING OF A WARRIOR
You say you want anointing?
Then God says, “Let Me strip you.”
You want authority?
God replies, “Let Me undo you.”
You want power?
The Lord whispers, “Good. Give Me your pride, your ego, your self-built identity… and I’ll give you something real.”
He breaks off the parts of you that cannot carry glory.
He crushes the pieces that would destroy you later.
He lets you lose battles so you can learn His voice.
He lets you walk through fire so you learn not to fear it.
He lets you be betrayed so you learn to stand alone.
He lets you be humbled so you’ll never forget the One who lifted you.
Because when God breaks a man, He’s not trying to end him — He’s trying to make him usable.
THE SILENCE BEFORE THE CROWN
There’s always a season — a quiet one — where God hides you.
You’ll feel forgotten.
Unseen.
Unqualified.
Disqualified.
Delayed.
Denied.
But heaven isn’t saying No.
Heaven is saying, “Not yet. Not until the breaking is complete.”
A crown placed on an unbroken head becomes an idol.
A sword placed in an unbroken hand becomes a weapon of pride.
A platform given to an unbroken soul becomes a disaster.
So God breaks you.
Not because He hates you.
But because He trusts you with something bigger than your ego can handle right now.
THE RISING
And then — one morning you didn’t expect —
you wake up different.
You speak with a weight you didn’t have before.
Your prayers punch holes in the darkness.
Your words carry fire because they came through the furnace.
Your compassion runs deeper because you remember the ache.
Your humility stays intact because you remember the fall.
Your faith is steel because you learned to trust Him in the breaking.
That’s when God looks at you and says:
“Now. Now you’re ready. Now I can crown you.”
But the crown won’t look like gold — not at first.
It looks like responsibility.
Like assignment.
Like souls.
Like burdens that only a broken heart can carry.
Because God doesn’t raise peacocks.
He raises warriors.
THE TRUTH YOU MUST CARRY
So the next time someone asks why life is hard,
why God feels distant,
why the pain won’t stop,
why the season won’t break —
Tell them this:
You don’t get a crown without a cross.
You don’t get authority without surrender.
You don’t get glory without breaking.
Before God gives you any type of power here on earth…
He will break you —
and only then will He trust you with His crown.