BE WARY OF THE GOD-FEARING MAN

Peeling back spiritual performance to expose the manipulation beneath the robe, the charm, the scripture.

Be wary of the man of God—
or the man who wears God like a costume.

Men use God
like wolves wear sheepskin—
to stalk the flock of Jesus
under the guise of grace.

They cloak themselves in the Word—
scripture layered like fabric,
draped in verses,
styled in holiness.

Soft to the touch,
but underneath—
sandpaper waiting
to wear down the armor
God dressed you in.

They don’t come to comfort—
they come to strip you
of your spiritual protection.

Truth used to come wrapped in conviction—
now it comes with a stylist.
Righteousness wears chains,
quotes scripture in auto-tune.
Every platform’s a pulpit
if you speak with enough charisma.

The image of the “God-fearing man”
has merged with the everyday hustler—
a brand more than a belief,
a persona more than a path.

And when performance becomes gospel,
seduction becomes salvation.
The audience calls it anointing—
but really,
it’s just good marketing.

Be wary of the God fearing man.

They’ll invoke the Word to get in,
invoke the Word to get out.
Narcissists,
broken men,
scripture-slick but soul-starved.
They know the Bible...
but they don’t know God.

They’ll speak of righteousness,
of divine alignment,
of walking in faith—
but they’re really leading you off the beaten path.

Sirens in Fear of God,
doing the devil’s work
in church shoes.

Their voice feels holy,
but the melody is temptation.
They hum hymns to mask the spell.
And you follow,
not knowing you're being led
away.

The devil only sends his best
to seduce God’s loyal children.

He’ll show up handsome,
well-dressed,
fit in the body—
but unfit in mind,
in spirit,
in emotion,
in soul.

A temple on the outside,
but hollow in the holy places.
He’ll flex discipline,
but dodge accountability.
He’ll quote scripture,
but never embody grace.

Because some men wear divinity
like cologne—
a scent to seduce,
not a life to live.

Be wary of the God-fearing man.
Play the long game—
he’ll grow tired.
Move on
to the next believer,
still learning discernment.

Because not every prayer
is a promise.
Some are rehearsals
for manipulation.

The devil hires fallen angels
so they feel familiar—
wounded in the same places,
speaking the same language of recovery.

You see your past in him,
and mistake it for prophecy.
Because you’ve fallen,
and God lifted you,
you believe
he can lift him too.

You think you know the way—
so you lead,
not realizing you were chosen
for your empathy,
not your destiny.

He doesn’t want your spirit—
he wants your sacrifice.
Not love, not covenant.
Just your body
dropped in his collection plate,
as if flesh were tithes
and desire could pass for devotion.

Bible study becomes a strategy,
a script to weaponize.
Because the devil
knows the Bible
as well as any angel.

Don’t mistake arrival for anointing.
Give the devil time
to reveal himself.
Not everyone sent
was sent by God—
some were forwarded by desperation.

They’ll use abstinence as bait,
pretend discipline
but still be scheming,
claiming you’re the one
God told them to break it for.

So when a man tells you he’s a man of God—
don’t take his word for it.

Let your God confirm it.
Let truth reveal itself,
not through charm,
but through character.

Because the god he serves
may wear robes,
quote scripture,
and whisper righteousness—
but it may very well
be Satan himself.