Welcome to Pomoja Podcast, the place where stronger
lives are built, faith is strengthened, hearts
are encouraged, and Christ -centered homes are
shaped through ordinary conversations that become
extraordinary encounters with God's truth. One
conversation, one story, one revelation at a
time. I'm your host, Barry Mwamba. During the
last two conversations, we have continued discovering
an extraordinary pattern that runs throughout
the entire Bible. Joseph's prison was never wasted.
David's caves were never wasted. Moses' wilderness
was never wasted. Esther's palace was never wasted.
Every one of those places became part of God's
preparation for a future assignment. But today,
we arrive at another forge, one that may be more
familiar to many of us than we realize. Because
Daniel was not forged in a prison. He was not
forged in a cave. He was not forged in a wilderness.
He was forged inside a culture that was determined
to reshape who he was. And perhaps there has
never been a more relevant conversation for the
church than this one. Because every generation
has its Babylon. Every generation has voices
trying to redefine truth. Voices trying to redefine
identity. Voices trying to redefine worship.
Voices trying to redefine what is acceptable
and what is not. The question is no longer. Can
you survive Babylon? The real question is can
you remain Daniel in Babylon? There is something
remarkable about Daniel's story. that I had never
fully appreciated until I looked at it through
the lens of this series. We often remember Daniel
because of the lion's den, but Daniel's assignment
did not begin with the lions. It began the day
he lost everything. Think about what happened.
One day, Daniel is living in Jerusalem. The next,
he is being marched hundreds of miles away to
Babylon. His homeland is gone. His family is
gone. His future seems gone. The temple that
represented God's presence has been invaded.
The nation has fallen. Everything familiar has
disappeared. If you had asked Daniel at that
moment what God was doing, I doubt he would have
answered. God is preparing me for my future assignment.
To human eyes, it looked like defeat. It looked
like tragedy. It looked like the end of the story,
but we have learned something by now. When God
is writing the story, what appears to be the
end is often only the beginning of preparation.
Then something happened that reveals the real
battle. Babylon did not simply want Daniel's
labor. Babylon wanted Daniel's identity. The
king ordered that these young men should be educated
in the literature and language of Babylon. Think
about that. The goal was not simply to teach
them new information. The goal was to reshape
how they thought. Then their names were changed.
Daniel, whose name honored the God of Israel,
was given the name Belteshazzar. His friends
also received new names. Why? Because names carry
identity. Babylon understood something. If you
can change how a person sees themselves, you
can often influence how they live. Doesn't that
sound familiar? Isn't that exactly what we see
in our own generation? People are constantly
being told, you decide who you are. Truth is
whatever you want it to be. Compromise if it
helps you fit in. The methods may have changed.
The strategy has not. Babylon still wants to
redefine identity. But then the Bible gives us
one of my favorite verses. It simply says, but
Daniel resolved in his heart, stop there. Before
the lion's den, before the visions, before the
promotion, before all the miracles, there was
a decision. Daniel made up his mind before the
pressure arrived. That is profound, because convictions
formed in the middle of temptation are usually
weak. Convictions formed before temptation become
anchors. Daniel did not wait until the king's
table was set. He had already decided. He did
not wait until compromise became convenient.
He had already decided. He did not wait until
everyone else agreed. He had already decided.
And I wonder how many of God's future assignments
are shaped by quiet decisions that no one else
ever sees. Joseph's assignment was protected
by faithfulness in prison. David's assignment
was protected in the caves. Moses' assignment
was shaped in the wilderness. Esther's assignment
was prepared in the palace. Daniel's assignment
was protected in his heart before God entrusted
Daniel with influence over kingdoms. He watched
what Daniel would do when no one expected him
to remain faithful. That is where the forge began.
Not in the lion's den, not before the king, but
in the hidden decision. that Daniel belonged
to God before he belonged anywhere else. The
more I study Daniel's life, the more convinced
I become that the first battle he faced in Babylon
was never really about food. For many years,
I believed that this passage was simply teaching
us about dietary laws or personal discipline,
while those elements certainly have their place.
I now believe something much deeper was taking
place beneath the surface. The food was not the
destination of the battle. It was only the doorway
into it. If we step back and look carefully at
what Babylon was doing, we begin to recognize
a very deliberate strategy. Daniel and his friends
had been removed from their homeland. separated
from everything that had shaped them since childhood,
introduced to a completely different culture,
taught a new language, educated according to
Babylonian wisdom, and even given new names,
every step was carefully designed to accomplish
one objective, to gradually reshape their identity
until they no longer thought of themselves as
servants of the living God. but as loyal servants
of Babylon. That is why I no longer believe the
food was the issue. The food simply became the
first visible opportunity for Daniel to decide
who he really belonged to. Because every generation
eventually reaches a moment when it must answer
that same question. Who am I? To whom do I belong?
What will define my life when every voice around
me is inviting me to become someone else. That
was Daniel's battle. And if we are honest, it
is still ours. Our Babylon may not ask us to
eat from the king's table, but it constantly
places other tables before us. It offers new
definitions of truth, new definitions of success,
new definitions of marriage, new definitions
of holiness. and even new definitions of what
it means to follow Christ. The pressure is often
subtle rather than violent, which is precisely
why it can be so dangerous. Rarely does compromise
begin with a dramatic decision. More often it
begins with a small adjustment that appears harmless
followed by another, until little by little we
begin thinking, speaking, and living more like
Babylon. than like the kingdom of God. That is
why Daniel's decision is so remarkable. The scriptures
tell us that Daniel resolved in his heart that
he would not defile himself. Notice where that
decision was made. It was not made before the
king. It was not made before a crowd. It was
not made after public debate. It was made quietly,
deep within his heart, long before anyone else
knew what he had decided. That is where every
lasting conviction is born. The greatest spiritual
victories are almost always won in private before
they are ever seen in public. Daniel did not
wait until the pressure became unbearable before
deciding what he believed. He settled his convictions
before the test ever arrived. That is one of
the reasons he remained faithful throughout the
rest of his life. The lion's den did not suddenly
produce courage within Daniel. It simply revealed
the convictions that had already been established
years earlier at the king's table. The same principle
appears throughout the Bible. Joseph remained
faithful long before Pharaoh ever heard his name.
David learned obedience while caring for sheep
long before Israel called him king. Moses learned
dependence upon God in the wilderness long before
he stretched out his staff over the Red Sea.
Esther chose courage before she ever entered
the King's presence. And now, Daniel teaches
us that public faithfulness is almost always
the result of private decisions that no one else
ever sees. Perhaps that is one of the reasons
God allows hidden seasons in our lives. Before
he entrusts us with influence, he watches what
we do when there is no applause, no recognition,
and no audience. Before he places us in positions
where our faith will be seen by many, he often
allows us to demonstrate that same faithfulness
in moments that appear insignificant. I cannot
help but wonder How many future assignments are
shaped by quiet decisions that no one will ever
know we made. The world celebrates dramatic moments,
but God often celebrates hidden obedience. Long
before Daniel stood before kings, interpreted
dreams, received visions, or survived the lion's
den, he simply decided that his relationship
with God was not negotiable. Everything that
followed, grew out of that one decision. And
perhaps that is the lesson God is inviting us
to consider today. We often ask him to reveal
our assignment while he quietly asks whether
we are allowing him to establish our convictions.
We ask him to open greater doors while he watches
how faithfully we walk through the ordinary ones
already standing before us. Because the greatest
forge is not always found in suffering. Sometimes
the greatest forge is found in the quiet decision
to remain faithful when compromise would be far
easier. Daniel's decision at the king's table
was not the conclusion of his story. It became
the foundation upon which the rest of his life
would be built. Years would pass. Kings would
come and go. Governments would rise and fall,
but the convictions Daniel established as a young
man would remain unchanged. Those convictions
would eventually lead him into one of the most
famous moments in all of scripture. Not because
he was searching for a lion's den, but because
a man whose identity has already been settled
cannot be intimidated by the lions waiting ahead.
That is where we will continue our journey. There
is another thought that completely changed the
way I read Daniel's story. When we think about
Daniel, most of us immediately picture the lion's
den. That is understandable. It is one of the
greatest miracles recorded in the Old Testament.
But I have come to believe that the lion's den
was never the place where Daniel became faithful.
It was simply the place where everyone else discovered
that he already was. Think about the timeline.
By the time Daniel was thrown into the lion's
den, he was no longer the young man who had arrived
in Babylon. Decades had passed. Kings had ruled
and died. Empires had shifted. Political leaders
had come and gone. Yet through every change,
one thing remained remarkably unchanged. Daniel's
relationship with God. That is extraordinary.
Most people change with their environment. Daniel
changed his environment through his faithfulness.
The Babylon that tried to redefine him never
succeeded because Daniel had already settled
in his heart who he belonged to. The scriptures
tell us that when the officials were searching
for something they could use against him, they
examined his entire life. Imagine that for a
moment. They investigated his work. They examined
his leadership. They watched the way he handled
responsibility. They looked for corruption, dishonesty,
negligence, or hidden compromise. And what did
they find? Nothing. Not because Daniel was perfect,
but because he had lived with integrity for so
many years that even his enemies had to acknowledge
it. Can you imagine having people who dislike
you examine your entire life, hoping to find
one inconsistency, and finally conclude, we will
never find any basis for charges against this
man unless it has something to do with his relationship
with God? What an incredible testimony. That
statement alone tells us everything we need to
know about the Forge. Daniel did not become a
man of integrity the day he entered the lion's
den. Integrity had been forged through thousands
of ordinary decisions made over many years. Every
quiet prayer, every act of obedience, every refusal
to compromise, every moment when no one was watching
had become another stroke of the hammer in God's
workshop. Then the decree was signed. No one
could pray to anyone except the King. This was
no longer about politics. This was about worship.
This was about allegiance. This was about identity.
The same battle that began at the King's table
had simply returned wearing different clothes.
Years earlier, Babylon had invited Daniel to
compromise through comfort. Now it demanded compromise
through fear. The strategy had changed. The objective
had not. Babylon still wanted Daniel to place
something above his relationship with God. But
notice what Daniel does next. The Bible does
not tell us that Daniel panicked. It does not
tell us that he called a meeting to discuss his
options. It does not tell us that he tried to
negotiate with the king. Instead, it simply says
that when Daniel learned the decree had been
signed, he went to his house, opened the windows
toward Jerusalem, knelt down, and prayed just
as he had done before. Those last words have
always captured my attention. Just as he had
done before. That may be one of the most powerful
phrases in the entire book. Daniel did not suddenly
become a man of prayer because his life was in
danger. He prayed because that was already the
pattern of his life. The crisis did not produce
his faithfulness. The crisis revealed it. Isn't
that true throughout scripture? Joseph did not
suddenly begin trusting God inside the prison.
The prison revealed the faith he had been building.
David did not suddenly learn courage when he
faced Goliath. The battlefield revealed what
had already been formed while he was alone with
the sheep. Moses did not suddenly begin depending
on God at the Red Sea. The Red Sea revealed what
the wilderness had been producing for forty years,
and Daniel did not suddenly become faithful because
lions were waiting. The lions simply revealed
what Babylon had never been able to remove. Perhaps
that is why God sometimes allows us to walk through
moments that expose what has been growing inside
us all along. Not because he needs to discover
what is there. He already knows. Sometimes the
test is not for God's information. It is for
our transformation. It allows the world to see
what God has been quietly building in secret.
And perhaps it even allows us to discover how
faithful God has been while preparing us. The
lions never changed Daniel. The lions revealed
Daniel. The prison revealed Joseph. The caves
revealed David. The wilderness revealed Moses.
The palace revealed Esther. Every forge eventually
reaches a moment when what God has been shaping
in secret becomes visible to everyone around.
But before we leave Daniel's story, there is
one final lesson that may be the most encouraging
of all. Because God did not merely prepare Daniel
to survive Babylon, He prepared Daniel to influence
Babylon. And that changes everything. As I come
to the end of Daniel's story, I find myself asking
a question that I had honestly never considered
for many years. Why did God leave Daniel in Babylon?
If the Lord was powerful enough to shut the mouths
of hungry lions, if He was powerful enough to
give Daniel favor before kings, if He was able
to reveal dreams and visions that no one else
could understand, then surely He was also powerful
enough to bring Daniel back to Jerusalem, yet
he never did. Daniel spent almost his entire
life in Babylon. That alone should make us stop
and think. Sometimes we assume that God's greatest
blessing is to remove us from difficult environments,
but Daniel's life suggests that God's purpose
is often much greater than simply changing our
location. Sometimes he leaves his servants exactly
where they are because that is the very place
where their assignment will unfold. That realization
completely changed the way I read Daniel's story.
For years, I thought Daniel's greatest testimony
was that he survived the lion's den. Today, I
believe his greatest testimony is that after
spending decades in Babylon, Babylon never succeeded
in changing the man God had called him to be.
He learned the language of Babylon, but he never
forgot the language of faith. He worked inside
Babylon's government, but he never surrendered
his allegiance to the kingdom of God. He served
pagan kings with excellence, while remaining
completely devoted to the king of kings. That
is an extraordinary picture of spiritual maturity.
Daniel did not isolate himself from Babylon,
yet he refused to become Babylon. He understood
its culture without allowing that culture to
redefine his convictions. He lived among people
who worshipped other gods. Yet every decision
he made quietly testified that the God of Israel
was still the true and living God. His influence
did not come from becoming like everyone else.
His influence came from remaining different while
serving everyone with integrity, wisdom, humility,
and excellence. When I look at Joseph, I see
the same pattern. God did not remove Joseph from
Egypt because Egypt had become the place where
Joseph's assignment would bless the nations.
When I look at Esther, I see that God did not
remove her from Persia because Persia had become
the place where an entire people would be preserved.
When I look at Moses, I see that after 40 years
in Midian, God sent him back into Egypt because
Egypt was the place where God's glory would be
revealed. And now, Daniel teaches us that Babylon
itself became the platform through which kings,
rulers, and empires witnessed the wisdom, faithfulness,
and sovereignty of the living God. Do you see
what all these stories have in common? God never
prepared His servants merely so they could survive
difficult places. He prepared them so they could
reveal His glory. within those places. Joseph
revealed God's wisdom in Egypt. Moses revealed
God's power in Egypt. Esther revealed God's providence
in Persia. Daniel revealed God's sovereignty
in Babylon. Their assignments were never centered
on themselves. Their assignments always pointed
people back to God. That challenges me personally
because I realize how often my prayers sound
very different. We naturally ask God to remove
us from uncomfortable situations, to open another
door, to change our circumstances, or to take
us somewhere easier. Yet perhaps the better question
is not. Lord, when are you going to take me out
of this place? But rather, Lord, how do you want
to use me while I am here? That question completely
changes our perspective because it moves our
attention away from escape and toward purpose.
Perhaps your workplace is not simply where you
earn a living. Perhaps it is part of your assignment.
Perhaps your neighborhood your profession, your
classroom, your business, or even the difficult
relationships you have been praying about are
not interruptions to God's plan, but the very
places where He intends to reveal Himself through
your life. Throughout scripture, God repeatedly
placed His servants in environments that seemed
unlikely, uncomfortable, and even hostile. Yet
those very environments became the places where
his glory was displayed most clearly. That is
why Daniel's story is so important for our generation.
We live in a world that constantly pressures
believers to compromise, to redefine truth, and
to blend into the surrounding culture. Daniel
reminds us that faithfulness has never required
isolation. It requires conviction. It requires
a heart that has already settled the question
of whom it belongs to before the pressure to
compromise ever arrives. In the end, Daniel's
greatest victory was never that the lions could
not harm him. His greatest victory was that Babylon
could not reshape him. The lion simply revealed
what decades of hidden faithfulness had already
produced. God had forged a servant whose identity
was rooted so deeply in him that neither power,
culture, fear, nor persecution could move him
from his convictions. Perhaps that is the lesson
God wants all of us to carry away from this conversation.
The purpose of the forge is not merely to help
us endure difficult environments. The purpose
of the forge is to prepare us to reveal Christ
wherever he has placed us. Because when God finishes
his work in a servant, that servant no longer
asks, how can I escape Babylon? Instead, he begins
asking, Lord, How can Babylon see you through
me? As we bring this conversation to a close,
I hope you are beginning to recognize that none
of these stories stand alone. Joseph, Moses,
Esther, and Daniel are not isolated examples
scattered throughout the Bible. They are all
revealing the same God and the same divine pattern.
Every prison, every wilderness, every palace,
and every Babylon became part of the forge through
which God prepared his servants for the assignments
he had already determined long before they understood
them. But our journey through the forge has only
just begun because there is another servant whose
story reveals yet another remarkable dimension
of God's preparation. Unlike Daniel, this man
was not taken captive as a young boy. He began
as a fierce opponent of the very gospel he would
one day spend his life proclaiming. He was brilliant,
educated, passionate, and convinced that he was
serving God, only to discover that God had an
entirely different assignment waiting for him.
Most people remember the dramatic encounter on
the road to Damascus, but very few stop to ask
what happened afterward. Why did God not send
Paul immediately to the nations? Why did years
of silence follow such an extraordinary calling?
Why did imprisonment become one of the greatest
classrooms of his ministry? Could it be that
even after such a powerful encounter with Christ,
the forge was still necessary? Join me in our
next conversation. as we continue uncovering
God's extraordinary pattern through the life
of the Apostle Paul, and discover why some of
God's greatest servants spend years being prepared
before the world ever sees the fullness of their
assignment. Because the God who prepared Joseph
in prison, Moses in the wilderness, Esther in
the palace, and Daniel in Babylon, is the same
God who continued shaping Paul long after Damascus.
And perhaps he is doing the very same thing in
your life today.