FAIR SUNSHINE

Journal Entry. December. 2022. 3.56AM Photo by AverySeasonArt S ome of the things (we often forget) to be thankful for today.  The air you breathe. Breathing tube patients will tell you. One beat of your heart. People on the donor waiting list will tell you. You woke up this morning. Somebody else didn't. When you opened your eyes you can see. People who lost their sight will tell you. When you try to speak you have a voice. Mute people will tell you. When you swallow your food you enjoy its taste. People who have to dig through trash to eat will tell you. When you drink clean water it refreshes you. People who live under the bridge will tell you. You have painless bodily functions. The old man who abused his body in his youth will tell you. The roof you live under. Homeless people will tell you. Your spouse hugging you. The man who lost his wife yesterday will tell you. Your children walking through the door announcing they're home. People whose children never came home will...

Journal Entry. 3rd of December, 2022. I remember one very late evening back 2018 as I sheepishly stepped down the flight of stairs leading to my personal parking space, stressed out, and burned out. I had to stay for a week in the studio because the movie we were doing was nearing its deadline. Decisions, signing checks, meetings, strategizing, doing my own shots, making sure the servers were up and going, taking and making calls.. I walked to the station of the security guard on duty who was to open the gate for me, and he was dozing off. I stood there looking at him wishing I had the simple luxury of sleeping like he did, of dealing with simpler problems, that I envied him and thought of magically exchanging places with him at that moment. I gently woke him up taking care not to startle him. He was so embarrassed and kept apologizing that he slept on duty. "It's ok," I said consoling him, "your job is difficult as it is and you must be tired." "Ah yes...

Journal Entry. 2021st November. I thank the Lord for the season in which I nearly forsook my own family. At the time, I imagined myself to be master of my own course, wandering wherever my desires carried me like a rabid dog loosed. Yet I now see that I was never beyond the sovereign hand of God. Though I knew it not, I was upon a leash. Blessed be His holy name for that leash. I thank God that He was pleased to lower me into a pit of mire and filth until I sank beneath the weight of my own corruption, scraping the very mud at the bottom in utter helplessness. Yet it was never His purpose to abandon me there. He wounded me that He might heal me. He humbled me that He might exalt me. He brought me to the end of myself, only that I might find my beginning in Christ. In those days I blamed my wife for my unfaithfulness, while all the while it was I who had been unfaithful. She blamed me for her bitterness, while all the while it was she who had become bitter. For fourteen years I drank...

Journal Entry. 2nd of July, 2022. 11:46PM credit to the owner  A man will never leave the world until God gives him new eyes to see the beauty in Christ.

All men possess faith, yet not all faith is true. T he question is not whether a man believeth, but what he believeth, and whether the object of his faith—is able to save. Faith, however sincere, is only as trustworthy as that upon which it rests.

A s part of our public reading, I continued from the passage we had previously considered with the saints during our indoor gathering on the seventh week. As hath often been the case, I found myself at a loss on how to approach the text on the journey to the park. Yet though my hands were upon the wheel, my heart was upon its knees before the throne, pleading with the Lord that He would grant me the honor of lifting up Christ before the people. This He so graciously granted in exceeding measure. Take heed lest any man deceive you: For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. Mark 13:5-6   From the beginning of history, the enemy hath employed one weapon above all others to draw men away from God: deception. It hath assumed many forms throughout the ages, yet perhaps none is more subtle or more devastating than flattery. Our first parents, though created upright and dwelling in a sinless world, were not enticed by threats, but by promi...

The Lord's very first gift to me, in the first week after He was pleased to save me some thirty-six years ago, was a book: The Autobiography of George Müller . Little did I know that it would leave so deep an impression upon my soul. In many respects, the course of our life and ministry hath since been patterned after the lessons it taught. It also became the inspiration for the journals I would later begin to write. Upon its first leaf I penned a simple dedication: "To my Lord, because I easily forget." Those words have remained with me ever since. The pages of that small journal were filled with countless needs and the Lord's particular answers to each one. Through every account, He seemed to say, "I am real. You can trust Me." And trust Him we did. The years have only confirmed what that first book taught me. Time and again the Lord hath met our needs with remarkable faithfulness, not always in the manner we expected, but always in the manner He knew t...

Journal Entry. 9th of April. 4:26AM. After reading The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I would not openly demand your worship in the manner I once did of One with whom I had the displeasure of speaking in the wilderness. This fellow I truly hate, let me tell you of Him. In all the time I have been going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it, He is unlike any I have ever seen.  There was a time when He fasted for so long that I became convinced the opportunity had finally arrived. I waited through every day of weakness, every moment of hunger, expecting at last to find a point at which I can break Him. I know men. They always grow weary. They grow hungry. They grow afraid easily. Given sufficient pressure, they always bend. Given sufficient temptation, they always fall. So there I was, watching him as His body grew famished and His flesh weakened. And therein began my frustration. I appealed to His hunger, and He answered as though truth were of greate...

E very seventh week we suspend our usual street meetings and devote the day exclusively to indoor fellowship with the saints. Such was the case this afternoon. The gathering had concluded, everyone had returned home, and we ourselves had already settled ourselves to catch up on some much needed rest when I received a message from the couple with whom we had spoken the previous week. They were inquiring whether we would be holding our usual service at the park that day, expressing a sincere eagerness to know more. I kindly explained our schedule and the reason for our absence. Yet after the conversation ended, a thought pressed itself upon me: they had come expecting fellowship, and now had nothing for them this week. I was deeply concerned. They mattered to my Lord, they matter to me. My wife and I therefore made a quick decision. We gathered our things, set aside our rest, and made the journey to meet them. What was supposed to end as an ordinary afternoon suddenly became another prov...

It is no small burden unto me to expound on the text appointed for the day before the gathered saints, and then, having done so, to proclaim those same truths once more unto those who are without. Though the message itself remains unchanged, the reception thereof is seldom the same. The Word which comforts and nourishes the believer often confronts and condemns the unbeliever. Yet such is the privilege and duty of handling the Word of God: its treasures are not diminished by repeated telling, nor exhausted by repeated hearing. For the people at the park, it is always necessary to bring the passage to bear upon the conscience in an evangelistic manner. The aim is not to leave the hearer comfortable in his separation from God, nor to furnish him with excuses by which he may justify his present condition. Rather, the truth must be pressed home in such a way that he is compelled to examine himself, question the foundation of his faith, and consider whether he truly standeth reconciled un...

S in never goes away on its own, but only gives birth to greater sins. There is no sin more putrid in the sight of God, than the hidden sin of pride (Proverbs 8:13, 16:5) in those whom He has redeemed with His blood. It is worse, in that being intentionally hidden, it takes root into the very being of its host, till it gives off the stench of guilt. As Adam hid himself among the trees of the garden, so we likewise seek concealment when confronted with our transgressions. The instinct of fallen man is not confession, but hiding. Yet guilt cannot be erased by concealment; it can only be numbed for a season. Thus Adam sewed together fig leaves (Genesis 3:7) in a vain attempt to cover his shame, even as men continue to fashion coverings of their own by faking good deeds to quiet an accusing conscience, till the conscience itself is seared, and the soul sinking deeper into the mire, begins to embrace, protect, and justify sin. When sin is in this stage, discernment disappears. The...