The New Creation CH.9 The Final Breath: What It Means to Die Daily so That Christ May Live Fully.

A message to the New Creation…

The new creation is not built on motivation. It is born through death. Not just once at the altar. Not just in the waters of baptism. But every day, breath by breath, moment by moment. Because the fullness of Christ cannot dwell where the old man still breathes. To live as a son of God is not to improve—it is to cease. It is to die daily. To exhale self. To inhale glory. To give up every false layer until the only thing left breathing is Christ Himself.

Galatians 2:20 lays this foundation without apology:

“I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me…”

This is not metaphor. This is spiritual reality. The ego must die. The performance must die. The opinion, the image, the religious act—it must all be crucified, nailed to the tree and left behind in the dust of who we were.

The sons of the fullness do not wake up each day to find purpose. They wake up to die again. Because they understand that death is the only doorway to manifesting resurrection. The cross wasn’t a one-time event. It was the blueprint. “If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” (Luke 9:23 NASB)

Daily.

That word cuts through the noise of feel-good theology and self-centered spirituality. Christ didn’t call us to affirm ourselves—He called us to crucify ourselves. Not out of shame, but out of surrender. Because only the dead are free. Only the crucified are usable. Only the emptied can carry the fullness.

The final breath is not taken once. It is taken again and again, until the soul no longer rises up to lead, until the flesh no longer contends for control, until the voice of the Spirit is the only one speaking from within.

Romans 6:6 makes the aim clear:

“…our old self was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin.”

The new creation is not an upgraded sinner. It is a resurrected son. But the old man tries to rise. The soul fights to reclaim the throne. And this is why the final breath must be daily. Not just a moment of humility. A posture of complete internal crucifixion.

Paul did not shy from this process. He declared it plainly in 1 Corinthians 15:31:

“I affirm, brothers and sisters, by the boasting in you which I have in Christ Jesus our Lord, that I die daily.”

This is the rhythm of the sons of God. Not revival without, but refinement within. Every sunrise an altar. Every moment an opportunity to say again:

“Not my will.

Not my thoughts.

Not my dreams.

Not my name.

Let Christ breathe here instead.”

This death is not morbid. It is not religious abuse. It is liberation. Because the life that rises on the other side is not weak. It is indestructible.

“For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” (Colossians 3:3)

Hidden. Protected. Untouchable. Because what is truly dead cannot be manipulated. It cannot be threatened. It cannot be bribed. It cannot be puffed up or torn down. That kind of death is invincibility in the Spirit.

And this is the doorway to full life.

Full breath.

Full identity.

Full power.

The final breath is the one that surrenders identity for transformation. That trades the dust of man for the breath of God. That gives up the illusion of control for the reality of sonship. It is the breath that parts the veil. The breath that silences the accuser. The breath that draws the Spirit in so fully that the flesh has no room left to move.

This is why the true sons do not fear death—they live in it.

They are not trying to protect self—they are trying to unearth Christ.

And the more they die, the more He lives.

The analogy is the seed.

“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24)

The outer shell must crack. The identity must dissolve. And in the darkness of surrender, life erupts.

You are that seed.

And the final breath is not your end.

It is your entrance.

The final breath is the doorway to dominion.

The last exhale of ego makes space for the inhale of eternity.

This is how Christ lives through you—not when you rise, but when you fall.

Not when you perform, but when you yield.

Not when you shout, but when you whisper, “Not I… but You.”

Let every son die well.

Let them die empty.

Let them die completely.

So that Christ may rise in them in glory, in fullness, and in fire.

Let them take their final breath.

And let the breath that fills them next be God.