The Language That Breaks Your Authority

(How inherited vocabulary, early religious conditioning, and false humility fracture the jurisdiction God entrusted to you.)

There is a contradiction, albeit quietly, at the heart of many believers' lives. I suggest that this contradiction is so familiar that it often escapes notice, yet it is also so powerful that it disarms authority before authority ever has the chance to rise. To be clear, it shows up in how we talk about ourselves, how we interpret scripture, and how we cling to language that reduces us. And while it often masquerades as humility or honesty, it is in fact a direct violation of the identity God established before the foundations of the world. Just think about it: if authority is legal, and if words are the instruments through which that authority is exercised, then the moment we adopt language that contradicts God’s judgment of us, we are stepping outside the jurisdiction He intended us to occupy.

From Genesis to Revelation, God reveals His tendency to build people to the height of their identity. At what point do we ever see Him shrink them into a safer version of themselves? We don’t. Do you want to know why? Because He determined everyone’s identity before we ever took our first breath. With this in mind, if we look closely, the scriptures reveal that overwhelmingly, He speaks with elevation, inheritance, power, sonship, and with the expectation that we will see ourselves in the light He casts. Yet generation after generation absorbs language that trains us to bow our heads, dull our presence, muzzle our authority, and treat ourselves as though we are burdensome occupants of the Kingdom.

And I am calling this out plainly because this is not harmless theology but a systemic breach of identity law that weakens believers long before life ever gets the chance to test us.

We are heirs with legal standing.

Consider for a moment the phrases believers recite without question: “I’m nothing,” “I’m worthless,” “I’m barely making it,” or “I’m a wretch.” These declarations become habitual, and because words shape the boundaries of our authority, these declarations create environments where authority cannot function. While Paul may have described himself as “wretched” in a moment of wrestling between flesh and law, he never intended that descriptor to become an identity badge for every believer who came after him. I also don’t think he intended it to override the far more expansive truths spoken over us by Christ.

Fascinatingly, the Church, however, often elevates these moments of human struggle into spiritual positioning by teaching people that the safest way to relate to God is through smallness. It’s like they totally forget that Jesus Himself quotes, “you are gods” (Psalm 82:6 and John 10:34-36). Of course, these scriptures are not to render us divine, but they do reinforce the scale of the authority entrusted to us.

Hear me clearly: Identity is not a suggestion in the Kingdom, but a legal status. And legal status determines jurisdiction.

So when we speak against the identity God assigned to us, we are not just being negative or self-critical; instead, we are engaging in unauthorized speech that works against our Kingdom assignment. (In moments like these, you become your own adversary because of language). Since authority requires alignment, that must mean that alignment requires our speech to reflect what God has already said. So if God calls you His child, His heir, His ambassador, His representative, then any language that positions you as beneath what He established becomes a violation of your role. Essentially, you cannot legislate from a place you refuse to acknowledge.

You cannot operate with authority while insisting on vocabulary that was never meant to define you. Cut it out before 2026, please.

(Warning: I’m about to go on a slight tangent below.)

And then some churches have the nerve to reinforce this misalignment by overemphasizing humility to the point that people confuse self-rejection with reverence. But humility is not the denial of identity but the proper use of it. Humility done right recognizes that authority flows from God, while also recognizing that God expects us to exercise it. False humility, then, has taught many folks to dismantle themselves linguistically before approaching God, even though God never asked for that. Instead, He consistently revealed the identity He assigned and then commanded people to rise into it. Do you remember Abraham, Moses, Gideon, Mary, Peter, and every disciple who needed to see themselves through the language of Heaven rather than the labels of earth? Consider them.

What makes this even more devastating is how early this conditioning begins and how quietly it embeds itself into a believer’s psychology. For many, the first environment that shaped their understanding of self was a religious one, and in that environment, they learned that the safest posture was the lowest.  (This is why the poverty and orphan spirits are running rampant). They learned that worthlessness, silence, and shrinking signified devotion, surrender, and holiness, without realizing that it contributed to social paralysis and fear. Essentially, any attempt to see themselves through the elevated language of scripture was considered bordering on pride. And all of this religious training doubled as theology, hardening into the identity of many of us.

This is the silent work that so many have to do nowadays.

I say this because by the time we step into social spaces, such as classrooms, workplaces, friendships, and marriages, we carry with us the linguistic residue of that early formation. We tend to speak softly about our gifts, hesitate before every opportunity, and even defer even when we carry the expertise. Why do we interpret ambition as rebellion rather than stewardship? I suggest that our self-confidence fractures because the language we were given in childhood or early faith life taught us that confidence is dangerous. And yet, everything in scripture contradicts that. We even need confidence to be strong and courageous...ask Joshua about that.

(Can you tell I’m yelling on the other side of this screen? Because I am lol).

Ultimately, our role is not to just be grateful for survival. Our role is to be prepared for dominion. While no one explicitly names this process, it governs our choices with alarming accuracy. This is why so many believers struggle with self-esteem. It’s not because we lack talent, intelligence, spiritual sensitivity, or divine backing, but because the frameworks that shaped our early understanding of God simultaneously taught us to distrust ourselves. The subtlety of this formation, then, makes it difficult to identify, and the difficulty in identifying it makes it nearly impossible to break...until someone names it plainly. Like me.

You cannot rise in authority while living within a narrative designed to keep you small. You cannot walk in confidence while rehearsing language that erodes your legitimacy. And you cannot see yourself as God sees you when you’ve been conditioned to believe that seeing yourself positively is somehow unholy.

(And I’m not telling you to leave your church, either. I am, however, challenging you to step into the kingdom.)

Ultimately, if we desire authority, then our speech must honor the identity God secured before the foundation of the world. If we desire movement, then our language must acknowledge the jurisdiction we’ve been given. If we desire transformation, then we must stop violating the identity God already ratified.

Please understand that the Kingdom does not advance through smallness, but through alignment. And alignment begins with the words we use to describe ourselves.

This is why I teach about the legal nature of words. This is why the Let There Be Challenge exists. Because authority cannot rise in a vocabulary designed for defeat, and until we stop mislabeling ourselves, we will continue to forfeit what God prepared long before we arrived.

When you change your language, you change your standing.

When you change your standing, you change your world.