Ripping the Veil of the Flesh

This is not just a message — it is an encounter.

In this prophetic release, Ripping the Veil of the Flesh, Ebbie J. unveils a divine invitation from the heart of God: stop living at a distance He already removed.

When the veil tore, it was not about fabric — it was about access.
 Not ritual — but relationship.
 Not separation — but restoration.

This episode dives deep into the unseen layers that still keep believers feeling distant from God:

• Shame that convinces you to hide when God is calling you closer
• Fear that teaches you to guard your heart instead of surrendering it
• Self-rule that replaces trust with control

You’ll discover how the “veil” is not just a biblical symbol, but a present-day reality — the mindset of the flesh that strives, performs, and protects instead of resting in God’s presence.

 This prophetic word will:

• Expose hidden areas where you are still striving for what’s already been given
• Break the illusion that intimacy with God must be earned
• Call you out of performance and into true union with the Father
• Equip leaders to minister from alignment, not insecurity or image

This is a call to return.
 A call to release control.
 A call to live, lead, and love from His presence — not toward it.

If you’ve been feeling distant, exhausted, or like you’re carrying more than you were designed to carry…
 This message will meet you right where you are.

 The veil is torn.
 The way is open.
 The invitation is now.

This is Mind of the King with Ebbie J. — and this episode is your reminder:

You don’t have to strive to get to God…
 you were always meant to dwell with Him.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:19

I want to welcome you to the mind of the king. A quiet and sacred space where we slow down, take a deep breath, and lean into the Muhammad of Jesus together. This podcast is an invitation to step away from the noise, distractions, and pressures of life. And enter a place of peace where the king gently reveals his thoughts, his wisdom, and his truth. Here, we don't rush transformation. We allow God's presence and his word to do the work within us. Today, our pastor and teacher, Ebony Johnson, also known as Ebby J, will be leading us into a powerful and restorative message. So take a moment to settle in. Let your heart be open and allow the mind of God to meet you right where you are. This is the mind of the king. We'll be willing to wake up the word, be transformed in his image, and live a mind with the Muhammad of Jesus. Let's begin.

SPEAKER_01 1:44

Well, we're doing something a little different today. So today the Lord gave me a word, and I want to share this word with you. My child, I want you to listen closely. When the veil was torn, it was not fabric that concerned me. It was access, it was separation, and it was the barrier that sin and self-rule had woven between my presence and your awareness of me. From the beginning, I walked with humanity without obstruction. There was no distance in the garden, no hierarchy of rooms, no restricted chambers. My presence was not hidden behind ritual or guarded by performance. But when sin entered, it did not push me away from you, it distorted you away from me. A few things appeared. The first one that appeared is shame. Shame formed a curtain in your mind. And I watched you believe its whispers. Shame said things to you like you are exposed now. Hide from me. It convinced you that you're no longer worthy to stand close to me. It urged you to cover yourself before I see you. And instead of running toward me, you pulled away from me. But now I'm hoping that you will come back to me. You lowered your eyes when I was inviting you to lift your face. You were meant to receive my loving correction as proof that you belong to me. But you interpreted it as abandonment and believed that I was saying, Your mistake has changed how I see you. That your failure has rewritten who you are to me. And so you withdrew. Not because I stepped back, but because shame convinced you that you should. You distance yourself from the very place that was calling you closer. But I need you to understand this. I correct what I claim, I discipline what is mine. My conviction was never to push you away, it was inviting you deeper. I was not exposing you to reject you. I was revealing you so I could restore you. I need you to come toward me when you feel uncovered, not away from me. I need you to trust that my nearness is not revoked by your weakness. The second thing that appeared is fear. Fear stitched layers of hiding into your soul. And I watched you tighten. I saw the moment that you decided that it was safer not to feel too much. It happened quietly, not with an announcement, but with an adjustment. After the disappointment, after the betrayal, after the prayer that seemed unanswered, you told yourself, I will not let that affect me again. Fear, it whispered to you, if you step forward again, you will be hurt again. So you will not be disappointed. It persuaded you, control the outcome so no one can wound you. And in that decision, you did not just guard against pain, you dulled your joy. You did not just shut down sorrow, you restricted love, you narrowed your emotional world so nothing could shake you too deeply. You believed that if you did not hope too much, you would not ache too much. If you did not open fully, you could not be broken fully. But in protecting your heart from hurt, you also limited its capacity for connection with others and with me. And little by little you pulled parts of yourself back. You shared less. You expected less. You prepared for loss before love even had a chance to grow. You silenced your needs so no one could dismiss them. You guarded your heart so carefully that even I have to wait for you to open it. You called it wisdom, you called it strength, you told yourself this was maturity, but it was protection born from pain. And I need you to open your heart and let me in now. Let me be your safety. I need you to stop bracing and start resting. I need you to trust that I am not leading you into harm but into healing. When you feel the urge to withdraw, I need you to lean in toward me instead. When you feel vulnerable, I need you to remember that vulnerability with me is not weakness. It is the doorway back to intimacy. Intimacy with me is not performance. It is not perfect behavior, it is not polished prayers or spiritual vocabulary. Intimacy is you bringing me your real thoughts before you edit them. It is you letting me see the disappointment, the jealousy, the confusion, the desires, the ache that you feel, and not pretending that it's not there. Intimacy is when you stop managing how you appear to me and start allowing me to know you as you are. It is closeness without disguise. Stop disguising yourself. It is trust without rehearsing. You don't have to rehearse with me. It is communion without control. Intimacy is when you talk to me the moment you feel the sting, instead of waiting until you have recovered. It is when you invite me into the process, not just the outcome. It is when you let me comfort you before you fully understand what happened. I do not require for you to be unbreakable to be close to me. I require you to be honest. When you open your heart instead of shielding it, you step back into the place you were always designed to live. Known and loved and still loved, seen and still chosen, corrected and still embraced. It insists that you do not lean too much, for you might be let down. It quietly suggests that depending on me was risky, but depending on yourself is wise. And so you began to carry what I never asked you to carry. You planned every outcome, you rehearsed every conversation, you calculated every risk, you trusted your strategy more than my spirit. You sought control more than communion. You said you believed in me, but you relied on you. Independence started to feel mature because you told yourself, I do not need to ask, I do not need to lean, I can handle this. And it felt grown, it felt disciplined, it felt strong to not require reassurance, not require help, not require me. But what you called maturity was often isolation, dressed up as strength. Control, it felt stable. Because when you were directing everything, nothing could surprise you. If you anticipated every outcome, you can avoid embarrassment. If you manage every detail, you could prevent disappointment. Control gave you the illusion of peace because nothing moved unless you approved it. But that stability came at a cost. You could not rest while you were holding everything together. And striving felt productive because effort produces visible results. You could measure it, you could track it, you could point to what you accomplished and say, At least I am doing something. Striving made you feel valuable, it made you feel safe, it made you feel in control of your growth. But underneath the productivity was exhaustion, a quiet fear that if you stopped pushing, everything will fall apart. The distance between us began to look like responsibility instead of resistance. What began as self-protection became self-governance, and what was once a wound hardened into a way of life. But I need you to release what you have crowned, I need you to step down from the throne you built in fear. I need you to let me lead where you have been managing. You were never designed to be your own covering. You were designed to trust me, lay down the weight you have normalized, return control to the one who never lost it. The veil was the visible symbol of an invisible fracture. It represented a humanity that could only approach me through mediation, through sacrifice and trembling. Not because I desired distance, but because sin had trained you to expect it. So when my son breathed his last and the veil tore, I was not reacting emotionally. I was executing an eternal plan. I was announcing that the age of separation had ended. The barrier woven by sin had been answered by blood. The illusion that you must strive to reach me was now shattered. Access was no longer restricted to a priest once a year. It was now open to every son and every daughter at every moment. The tearing of the veil was heaven's declaration. You are no longer outsiders looking in. You are invited into union, not visitation, but habitation. Not distance from me, now it's indwelling. The separation you learn to live with is not your design. I never created you to stand outside my presence. I created you to carry it. You saw cloth rip in a temple. I saw a system collapse. The veil represented distance, not distance from my heart, but distance from your understanding of who you are and who you were created to be. It symbolized the flesh governing what only my spirit was designed to rule. And when my son gave himself, I tore that veil from top to bottom, not from bottom to top, because you did not open this way. I did. The veil was never simply just a cloth, it was a picture of the flesh, the fallen operating system that learned to survive without me. It is not your body. I formed your body with my hands and called it good. Your body is not the enemy. Flesh is the mindset that formed when you believed you had to live independent of my nearness. It is the inner agreement that says, I must protect myself. I must prove myself. I must secure myself. It is fear dressed as wisdom, shame dressed as humility, and control dressed as responsibility. The flesh tries to approach me through effort as if I'm impressed by your exhaustion. The flesh negotiates for approval as if my love is a contract to be maintained. The flesh hides and then works to compensate for hiding, serving, performing, striving, hoping I will not noticing the distance. But I see the distance and I never asked you to manage it. I did not design you to visit my presence occasionally like a guest entering a sacred room. I designed you to live from my presence, to think from it, choose from it, love from it, lead from it. My presence was meant to be your atmosphere, not an appointment. When the veil ripped, I was not simply removing a barrier in a building. I was confronting the belief that you must earn closeness. I was dismantling the lie that effort secures intimacy. I was declaring over your life, access is no longer earned, it is restored. What was lost in the garden was not my desire for you. I never withdrew my heart. What was lost was your awareness of belonging. Shame made you question what had never changed. Fear, it made you doubt what had always been true. But hear me clearly, you belong to me, not conditionally, not temporarily, not when you perform well. You belong to me because I chose you before you ever chose me. The cross did not create my love for you, it revealed it, it restored what shame distorted, it answered every accusation that told you that you were too far, too flawed, too inconsistent to come close. You are not trying to fight your way back into my presence. You are not climbing toward acceptance. Through my son, I have already brought you near. Through his blood, I removed the distance you thought was permanent. Through his resurrection, I secured your place. You are not working your way back to me. You are awakening to the truth that you never stopped being mine. And yet the flesh resists this tearing. The flesh feels safe because it is familiar. It learned how to protect you when you felt exposed. It built patterns to avoid pain. It created identities to survive rejection. So when I begin to tear the veil of the flesh in your life, it can feel uncomfortable, even threatening. I will expose motives, I will confront self-rule, and I will allow situations that reveal what has truly been governing you. Not to shame you, but to free you. Because what you call protection is often the very thing restricting intimacy. What you call strength may be distance. What you call wisdom, it may be fear. And when I tear the veil, I am not taking something from you. I am giving you back access to the life you were always meant to live.

SPEAKER_00 21:02

This book is for anyone who's felt buried by life, pushed down by broken systems, false identities, moments, rejection, and the pressure of the world. It's about that moment when everything says it's over, and Jesus steps to the tomb and calls you by name. Here my am reveals how Christ resurrects what the world trying to silence. Your identity, your purpose, your breath, and your authority. It's available now on Amazon. You can also visit our podcast website at mindoftheking.com. All right. Let's get back to the message.

SPEAKER_01 21:45

For my leaders and my shepherds. If I have entrusted you with people, understand this I am tearing the veil in you first. Before I encourage Increase your platform, I refine your heart. Before I expand your influence, I examine your motives. I am tearing the veil in you so that you do not minister from fleshly charisma, from emotional intensity or borrowed authority. Fleshly charisma can move a crowd but cannot transform a soul. Emotional intensity can stir tears but cannot produce lasting freedom. Borrowed authority can repeat revelation but cannot carry weight in the spirit. I am not interested in how loud you sound. I am forming how aligned you are. I am forming governance within you. Governance is when your private life agrees with your public voice. It is when your obedience in secret sustains your authority in the open. Governance is internal order. My spirit ruling your thoughts, your reactions, your desires, so that when you speak, you are not speaking from wounds, insecurity, or ambition. The world responds to gifting. The world will celebrate your talent. The world is impressed by results. Heaven is moved by obedience. When the veil of the flesh remains, you may preach to prove, lead to validate, or serve to be seen. But when the veil of the flesh is gone, you no longer need the people. You lead to feel what only I can feel. When the veil of the flesh is gone, your words carry weight because they are not protecting you. They are not defending your image. They are not compensating for insecurity, they are revealing me. And when you reveal me instead of yourself, authority rests naturally. You do not have to strive for impact. Presence does the work, alignment carries the anointing. So now, my child, this is your invitation. Stop standing at a veil I already tore. Stop negotiating for access I already granted. Stop protecting yourself from a love that has already been proven itself. Come on closer now. Not with performance, not with rehearsed strength, not with polished spirituality. Come with honesty, with openness, and with surrender. Let me tear what you have been trying to preserve. Let me dismantle what you built to survive. Let me govern where you have been managing. You do not need to brace anymore. You do not need to strive anymore. You do not need to earn what has already been restored. The veil is torn, the way is open, and the distance is gone. Live from my presence now. Lead from my presence now. Love from my presence now and rest in my presence now. And when you forget, I want you to remember this. I did not tear the veil to visit you. I tore it so you could dwell with me. Come home in your mind. Come home in your heart. Come home in your trust. Because I am here. Family, if this spoke to you, don't just listen to this. Sit with it. The veil being torn is not just theology, it is personal. It is about the places where we have been bracing and striving and performing and calling it maturity. It is about the parts of us that still feel like we have to earn what Jesus already restored. I want you to take a moment this week and ask yourself, where am I still managing what God has already opened? Let him tear it. Let him into it. Let him govern it. You were never designed to live outside of his presence. You were designed to live from it. And if you're listening right now and you realize you've been standing at a distance from God, this is your moment. You don't have to earn your way back. You can come now. Pray this aloud with me. Father, I come to you just as I am. I believe that Jesus Christ is your Son, that He died for my sin, and that you raised him from the dead. I confess that I have tried to live independent of you. I surrender myself rule. Forgive me, restore me, and lead me. I receive your love. I receive your forgiveness. I receive new life through Jesus. Teach me to live from your presence in Jesus' name. Amen. Now, if you prayed that, you are not reaching for God. You have responded to Him. And I am so, so proud of you. Welcome home. This is Abby J, and this is the Mind of the King. Until next time.

SPEAKER_00 28:14

Thank you for joining us today inside the Mind of the King. Don't forget to follow this podcast. Subscribe and donate if you loved the content. And most importantly, click the leave a review link. We'd love to hear your thoughts. As you leave this moment, may the authority of God's words settle in your spirit and establish you in his truth. What he reveals, he strengthens. What he speaks, he seals. And what he begins in you, he is faithful to complete. Walk confidently, knowing the King's wisdom is ordering your steps, and his presence goes before you with power. You are leaving covered, guided, and carried by the authority of the one who rules heaven and earth. Until we meet again, stay sensitive to his voice and continue walking in the mind and the mandate of the king. Grace, strength, and kingdom authority be upon you.