From Repentance Unleashed by Evangelist Constance D. Dixon
True repentance, unleashing resurrection life and shattering chains, cannot be understood in a vacuum. It is not a self-help technique or a religious ritual. Its necessity, cost, and power only make sense when seen in the blinding light of Who God Is and What He Has Done. Before diagnosing the disease of superficial remorse, we must gaze upon the glory that makes such remorse inadequate and offensive.
God is not merely a benevolent force or a cosmic therapist. He is the thrice-holy Creator (Isa 6:3), infinitely perfect, righteous, and pure. His nature is the absolute standard of goodness, truth, and love. Sin, therefore, is not simply "missing the mark" or making mistakes in a morally gray area. It is cosmic treason, a willful rebellion against the rightful authority, perfect character, and loving rule of this holy God (Rom 1:18-23). It is declaring independence from the Source of life itself. Every act of disobedience, every cherished selfish thought, every moment of indifference towards Him is an assault on infinite perfection.
—From Chapter One, page 11
A Cancellation of Sin-Based Claims
True repentance extends beyond confession to tangible restoration where possible. Restitution – making amends for harm caused by sin – is not merely ethical behavior; it plays a critical role in canceling the enemy’s lingering claims. When sin involves theft, fraud, or damage to others (Ex 22:1-15), Satan exploits the unresolved injustice as "legal" grounds for accusation and oppression. Restitution addresses this by dismantling the sin’s tangible legacy, fulfilling God’s standard of righteousness (Lk 19:8-9), and demonstrating that the believer is walking out in practice the claim Christ’s blood revoked. It is the practical annulment of sin’s concrete consequences.
—From Chapter Four, pp. 114-115
Shattering the Prison of Self-Deception
Wild grace is God canceling your entire sin-debt. It meets you mid-rebellion, embraces you in your filth, rewrites your identity, and dresses you in Christ’s perfection. But grace goes further: It infuriates merit-based religion by paying latecomers in full—exposing heaven as a gift no worker earns. It elevates scandalous faith above moral reputation, honoring the prostitute’s tears over the Pharisee’s resume. It pursues you through failure, rebuilding Peter’s courage with coals and fish. It weaponizes your weakness, turning thorns into megaphones for Christ’s power. And it explodes expectations, ushering thieves into paradise with eleven words. This grace isn’t safe—it shatters every human system of worth to prove one staggering truth: God’s love operates by His generosity, not your performance.
God handpicks failures, outcasts, and enemies to showcase His power. A terrorist (Paul), a prostitute (Rahab), and a swindler (Jacob) became heroes of faith not despite their past, but because their past proved grace transforms even the most shattered lives (1 Cor 1:27-29). Your scars don’t disqualify you—they’re the raw material grace uses to build monuments. This grace defies all fairness: It gives what you don’t deserve and withholds what you do. We earned eternal death; He gifts eternal life (Rom 6:23). We deserved judgment; He drowns us in mercy. Grace isn’t fair; it’s a tidal wave crashing over the walls of justice, leaving only gift-wrapped salvation in its wake.
Your darkest sins—the ones that haunt you at 3 a.m., aren’t covered up or minimized. God vaporizes them: "Though your sins are scarlet, they will be white as snow" (Isa 1:18). Grace doesn’t make you presentable; it makes you flawless in His courtroom. This is the explosive reality awaiting you after the battlefields of repentance and demolition: Wild grace. Not a timid drip of mercy, but a flash flood of furious love that sweeps away every barrier between God’s heart and yours.
—From Chapter Six, pp. 205-206