Michael Gantt Ministries

Sharpening the Iron of the Church

It's Time to Fumigate

 This is a much longer piece than is recommended for a blog post. However, notwithstanding, I encourage you to take the time to read it all. The text of this article is taken from my book CRY MERCY which was released in 2018, but its message is even more critical today. 

Your house is so beautiful.  It is the envy of the neighborhood with its immaculately manicured landscaping and the perfect placement of canopy trees framing the house like a Thomas Kinkade painting.  With great attention to detail you have provided the perfect presentation for your home. You have installed the highest quality siding money can buy.  It has every accouterment available for your “Good Housekeeping” showpiece.

New carpet and the most expensive hardwood flooring has been installed throughout the house. The walls have been painted with top of the line wall covering so that every room is bright and appealing; each one perfectly complimenting the others. No discount warehouse furniture sits in this home. Every piece is perfectly coordinated, top of the line. Your home boasts a state of the art security system, and high speed internet reaches every room in the place, including the pool house and tool shed.  You have spared no expense to insure that you have a beautiful house, admired by all as they drive by, and filled with ooohs and ahhhs as dinner guests arrive.  At Christmas your family carefully decorates this beautiful home with the utmost care, sparing no detail.  There are no gaudy or garish inflatable Clauses on the lawn, no plywood reindeer on the roof.  No, your home is impeccably decorated with understated and pristine beauty.  

This house – – this home – – is your pride and joy, but……………..

Your beautiful home is infested with termites. These tiny destructive insects are relentlessly gnawing away at your beautiful home, devouring it from the inside out.  This is a home invasion of the worst kind as these tiny monsters secretly bore into support beams, weakening the roof rafters and causing the floor to sag. These diminutive beasts work undetected by the eye; boring deeper and deeper; eight to ten inches deep into the beautiful sawn timbers that span the foundation.  You try all the home remedies, spraying from aerosol cans, setting off “bug bombs” in the basement, but evidence of their destruction remains.  If you don’t take action, drastic action; if you don’t do something soon you will lose your home. It will fall down, no longer able to support itself and all that will remain of the “pride of the neighborhood” will be little more than an ugly pile of sawdust; uninhabitable, a blight on the neighborhood over which it once reigned.

New siding won’t help.  More paint will only cover up the ongoing destruction. New, more expensive furniture and new carpet will not support the weakened roof.  Upgraded wiring and higher speed internet will do nothing to repel the relentless invasion of your precious home.  

You finally admit to what must happen.  You call for the experts. Neighbors watch with curiosity through their windows as the trucks roar down the street. Because of the massive size of your home, a crane rumbles down the street and pulls up in the yard digging up your immaculately trimmed lawn and crushing your azalea bushes.  Your shame mounts as neighbors drive slowly past your home, pointing at the huge truck in the drive marked with large red letters, “FUMIGATION SERVICES.”  

An army of men trample through your home, their heavy boots leaving deep tracks in your thick, beautiful carpet – sealing up windows and doors with heavy caulking, running long strips of tape along every seam and joint. Outside, men hanging from a bucket suspended from a crane drop a series of heavy tarps over the roof, eventually covering the entire house.  They lay sandbags around the base, ensuring that nothing can get in and nothing can get out.  It is difficult to watch, but you understand what must be done.  

Soon, a large hose is dragged from one of the trucks and inserted into a large valve at the base of the tarp and the whine of a large pump and the noticeable inflation of the tarp that covers your home lets you know that the fumigation has begun. The gas being pumped into your beautiful home is odorless, colorless, and deadly.  The heavy gas flows into your home, across the carpet, up the walls, climbing the stairs as it sinks into the basement and climbs to the attic.  Soon, the deadly gas will fill every nook and corner of your home, even penetrating the surface of the wooden trusses and floor supports.  It does not settle on the surface, but penetrates deep into the wood, up to ten inches.  It is on a search and destroy mission.  It is relentless in its search for termites – not to drive out – but to kill every ravenous insect that has invaded your precious home.  

When the job is done, the tarps are removed, the windows and doors are unsealed, the tape and caulking is removed, the tide of destruction is ended and the work of repairing the damage can begin.  No superficial covering up has been carried out here, no minor redecorating would suffice.  The suffocating gas has done its job, the enemy has been destroyed.  Only now can the carpenters, painters, plumbers, and roofers move in to repair and restore so that the house will again be inhabitable. 


The United States of America does not need remodeling or new furniture.  New siding and fresh landscaping will not address the issues that plague the nation and threaten its destruction.  Our roof is falling in and our foundations are collapsing.  An election is just moving the furniture around; new president, a few new senators and representatives, new committees, new budget, new appointments to the Supreme Court – – new siding, same old rotten timbers once again hidden from sight. 

America needs fumigating.  We need to call in the big guns to cover the whole matter with a huge tarp of intercession and fill it with the smoke of the prayers of the saints; powerful, unrelenting, legislating from the Throne Room of Heaven prayer that will search and destroy every last demonic termite that has infested our land. 

Politicians and Parties are siding and furniture, carpet and paint.  Changing them does not deal with the infestation that has bored deep into our foundations, consuming them from the inside out. We are facing a demonic infestation at the very core of who we are as a people, an infestation that has eaten its way into our morals, our values, our very sensibilities.  We listen to the rantings of some senator or representative on the television and we cry, “O God, he’s crazy – what’s wrong with him?  We need to get him out of office!” It’s the same thing as throwing out a living room chair and getting a new recliner.  It looks great, but it’s sitting on a rotting floor.   

When the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.  Then I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them. And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne,  and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel. Then the angel took the censer and filled it with fire from the altar and threw it on the earth, and there were peals of thunder, rumblings,  flashes of lightning, and an earthquake – Revelation 8:1-5

Prayers have always been typified in the Scriptures as “incense” or the “smoke of incense.”  In Numbers 16 when God sent a plague upon the Hebrews because of their sin, the High Priest Aaron is seen running from the Tabernacle carrying a censer in which he has placed incense and coals from the altar.  As Aaron stood between the living and the dead, waving the censer, filling the air with the sweet aroma of the burning mixture of spices and flour, the plague stopped. The altar from which Aaron took the incense was the altar that stood just outside the Holy of Holies, and represented the prayers of the people.  

There was nothing political or systemic in this act. There were no elections, debates, compromises, negotiations.  This was a single act of a man placing himself (with the censer representing the people) in the face of God and crying out for mercy. The people of Israel were going to die and rot in the desert, but for this single desperate act of intercession. In the face of judgment, intercession was employed to save the people. 

The Psalmist writes: “May my prayer be set before you like incense.“ Psalm 141:2

In preparation for use in the Tabernacle, the elements of the incense that would be used on the altar were beaten, pounded with a pestle or hammer before they could be used. The process in the preparation of the incense adds to the imagery the idea of brokenness or contrition.  

American “pride” will not serve us in the ministry of intercession as we must come before God in humility and sorrow for our sin.  As long as we continue to defend ourselves in spite of our sin, our prayers will go unheard in Heaven. The incense that rises to God does so in acknowledgement of our guilt married to a plea for mercy.  

My good friend Peter Lundell has said, “Instead of asking God to bless me, I have chosen to become a man that God is pleased to bless.”

God is not inclined to bless the proud, the arrogant, or the rebellious. He is not moved to spare those who are proud of their sin, and contrary to Aesop, God does not help those who help themselves.  If we want God’s help, we must come before Him naked and empty handed, offering nothing save a broken heart and a contrite spirit.  Our prayer cannot be “God, Make America Great Again.”  Our prayer must be “God, as a nation America has blasphemed the Name of our God, we have slaughtered the innocent, oppressed the weak, and gone after other Gods.  Like David we pray, ‘Create in our nation a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within us. Do not cast us away from your presence and do not remove Your Spirit from us.”

This is the sweet aroma of incense that will reach heaven. This is the kind of prayer that God hears.  When politicians mount the Capital steps and sing the words to GOD BLESS AMERICA; words which have no meaning to most of them, their words are not heard in heaven. 

When Intercessors pray, the Bible tells us that our prayers ascend, like smoke, to the Throne of God where Jesus sits at His Right Hand, interceding for us. Jesus sits on the Throne of Grace and those who seek Him do so in desperate need of His grace in their lives. There is no merit there, there is no excusing there, and there is no “earned it” there. As a nation, we are in desperate need for the grace of God to fall upon us.  We deserve God’s wrath. We need God’s grace, however we are shielded from that grace by our great national pride.  

Revelation gives powerful insight into what happens when believers pray.  In Revelation 5:8 we are told that as the prayers of the saints rise to the Throne of God they are gathered by angels into golden bowls. And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. As the smoke of our prayers, like incense, are gathered by the angels, something remarkable happens to them.

And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne, and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel. Then the angel took the censer and filled it with fire from the altar and threw it on the earth, and there were peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning, and an earthquake

Our intercessory prayer rises to the Throne Room of Heaven, are gathered by angels into golden bowls, mixed with fire from the altar and in answer, are flung back to the earth.  If one searches the Greek language (the language of the New Testament), we find the word thymiaō, for incense. 

The imagery of thymiaō is to fumigate.

The prayers of those of us who love America and serve God should be for fumigation. We need to send wave after wave of intercessory prayer to heaven, letting our prayers rise from every corner of the nation, unrelenting waves of intercessory prayer, providing those mighty angels with an endless supply of the smoke of intercession that they might combine with the fire from the altar and fling it back to earth with peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning, earthquakes driven by the power of God in response to His Church, realizing that incense of our intercession combined with the heavenly fire from the throne can penetrate to the deepest recesses of our rebellious nation.  

More powerful than our elections, mightier than our voting, more effective than all of our protests and marches, bypassing all of our paint, paper, siding, roofing, furniture, landscaping, flowering bushes, and canopy trees — all of the things we depend upon in hopes of presenting ourselves as a great nation — to penetrate to the deepest, most sinful core of ourselves killing the demonic pests that are eating away at the American soul; purifying us as a nation and cleansing our hearts so that instead of singing empty, meaningless songs asking God to Bless America, we might become a people that God is pleased to bless. 


Read this and much more from my book CRY MERCY. You can find it HERE.


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