I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for intercession.

Not just the kind that happens in hushed sanctuaries or quiet corners at the altar, but the kind that stormed the gates of heaven long before I took my first breath.

My story starts before my story started.

My mother had a child pass in the womb eleven months before I was born. That grief… the ache of a child gone too soon… was fresh, raw, and real. But even in the midst of that loss, my father refused to let despair speak the final word. Night after night, he walked the loop around our home and interceded. He laid claim to the promises of God with boldness. He didn’t just pray for a child, he prayed for a calling. He asked the Lord for a son who would be strong in body and strong in spirit. A mighty man of God. He prophesied over a life that had yet to begin.

And here I am. 6’4″, 300+ pounds of meat and ministry. A walking answer to prayer. A living witness that intercession changes everything.

But that wasn’t the only time someone stood in the gap for me.

Years later, when I was at my worst, stubborn, distant, running hard from the call of God; my wife was on her knees. She fasted. Not just for a day. Not just here and there. For months. While I was white-knuckling rebellion, she was waging war in the Spirit. She prayed when I couldn’t. She believed when I wouldn’t. She saw the man I was called to be when all I could see was who I was pretending to be.

That’s not just love. That’s hospitality.

Not the Bless you heart and hand you a casserole kind. I’m talking about the kind of hospitality that dares to stand in the gap. The kind that says, “I see you. I believe for you. And I will not stop pleading on your behalf.”

It’s the same kind of hospitality we see in 1 Samuel 19, where Jonathan advocates for David. This chapter isn’t about warm welcomes or guest room décor, it’s about life-or-death love. Hospitality when it costs something.

David is marked for death. Saul’s jealousy has turned violent, and he wants David gone. But Jonathan, David’s best friend and Saul’s own son, doesn’t stay silent. He doesn’t pretend nothing’s wrong. He doesn’t wash his hands and walk away. He advocates.

He risks everything by standing up to his father and pleading David’s case. He reminds Saul of David’s victories, his loyalty, his service to the kingdom. For a brief moment, his words actually break through. Saul backs off… at least temporarily.

And that right there? That’s hospitality.

It’s hospitality that says, “I’ll be your voice when you don’t have one.” It’s hospitality that refuses to let someone fight alone. It’s hospitality that costs. In a world full of noise and distraction, advocacy is one of the most overlooked forms of hospitality. But it’s one of the most biblical. Jonathan didn’t bring David a blanket and bread, he brought him backup.

Make no mistake, there are Davids all around us. People targeted. People afraid. People without a voice. People running for their lives, spiritually, emotionally, even physically. They don’t need more comfort food. They need someone to stand in the gap.

Advocacy is Intercession. Advocacy is just intercession in action. When you speak up for someone who can’t, that’s interceding. When you pray for someone who’s too broken to lift their head, that’s interceding. When you refuse to let the enemy win without a fight, that’s standing in the gap. We are called, commissioned, to be intercessors.

For the lost.

For our children.

For our spouses.

For our leaders.

For our enemies.

That’s not optional. That’s hospitality. And y’all, it’s one of the highest forms of it.

If my wife hadn’t fasted and prayed for me when I was off the rails, I don’t know where I’d be. If my dad hadn’t interceded before I was even born, who knows what would’ve filled the vacuum of that grief. If my mom hadn’t had the courage to believe for life after loss, this story would never have been told.

So when I read about Jonathan standing up for David, I feel that in my bones. Because I’ve been David. And thank God I’ve had Jonathans. Now, it’s our turn. Our Fight Is in the Spirit

David had a flesh-and-blood enemy. Saul was a spear-throwing madman on a mission. But our battle? It’s not against flesh and blood. It’s in the spirit. And the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty. Prayer. Fasting. Advocacy. Speaking up when it’s easier to stay silent. Refusing to sit this one out. We need more Jonathans in the church today. Not just greeters at the door, but people who greet the gates of hell with bold, unrelenting intercession for the ones the enemy is trying to destroy.

What kind of world would we live in if we started advocating in the Spirit the way Jonathan did in the flesh? What would happen if we offered that kind of hospitality to:

Our kids?

Our pastors?

Our friends?

Our government leaders?

What if we got on our knees instead of on our nerves? What if we prophesied purpose instead of repeating gossip? What if we stopped expecting people to save themselves and started interceding like it was our job? Because it is.

Let’s not miss this, Jesus Himself is called our Advocate (1 John 2:1). He is seated at the right hand of the Father, interceding for us right now (Romans 8:34). That’s His ministry, intercession. Advocacy.

So when we intercede, we imitate Christ. When we advocate for someone in trouble, we reflect His nature. When we plead the case of the outcast, the hurting, the lost, we bring heaven closer. This is hospitality in its highest form. And we can all do better.

There are some mighty prayer warriors out there. Saints who quietly wage war in the spirit every day. Parents who pray over their kids’ beds. Grandmas who groan in the Spirit for their prodigals. Pastors who fast for breakthrough when no one sees.

But we all have room to grow. We can all take our place on the wall. We can all be Jonathan for someone. Because someone out there is David, running, afraid, and unsure of who will stand with them.

Will it be you?

If you’ve got breath in your lungs and the Spirit of God in your heart, you’ve got what it takes to intercede. To advocate. To extend true biblical hospitality. Not just by opening your door, but by opening your heart. By praying. By standing up. By standing in the gap.

I’m here because someone did that for me. Who will be here tomorrow because you did? So maybe you’ve never thought of prayer as hospitality. Maybe you’ve never seen advocacy as spiritual warfare. But I hope today you do.

Because somebody out there is holding on by a thread. Somebody is drowning in shame, in fear, in isolation. Somebody has a Saul breathing down their neck, and they don’t need a casserole, they need a Jonathan. They need someone who’ll stand in the gap and say, “Not today, Satan. You don’t get them.”

And the truth is, we all have that choice.

We can scroll past. We can shake our heads and say, “That’s a shame.” Or we can get down on our knees and start interceding. We can go to the Father and advocate for their healing, for their breakthrough, for their calling to come to life.

You don’t have to be a preacher to do that. You don’t need a platform or a title or a degree. You just need to love somebody enough to fight for them in the Spirit. And here’s the hope: this kind of hospitality works. I’m living proof. My life was shaped by people who refused to let the enemy write the final chapter. My story was turned around by the prayers of a grieving mother, a fasting wife, and a faithful father.

You don’t have to have it all together to be powerful in prayer. You just have to show up. You just have to say, “I may not know what to say, but God, you do. I’m standing in the gap until something breaks.”

That’s what Christ does for us every day. He’s still advocating. Still interceding. Still pulling us out of pits and pushing us toward purpose. And if we say we want to be like Jesus, then we’ve got to start doing what Jesus does.

So, here’s my challenge to you: pick one person today. Just one. Ask God who He wants you to stand in the gap for. It could be your child. Your pastor. Your coworker. Your spouse. That person who hurt you. The one you gave up on.

Start praying for them like your life depends on it, because theirs just might. We are not powerless. We are not helpless. We are not too late or too far gone. The Spirit of God lives in us, and when we pray, heaven moves. You might not see the answer right away. But one day, you’ll look back and realize: that breakthrough came because I didn’t give up. That healing came because I stood in the gap. That soul came home because I made room for God to move.

That’s hospitality.

That’s intercession.

That’s the kind of life that leaves a legacy.

So go be somebody’s Jonathan. Because somebody’s David is waiting. And their survival might just depend on the sound of your voice crying out to the Father.

Let’s be a church that doesn’t just welcome people to our tables, but fights for their future on our knees.

Stay Salty