FAIR SUNSHINE

I spent this month resigned to my personal journal instead of posting my thoughts online, resorting to audio recordings, which my chosen diary app so conveniently provides. The previous three months of sleep deprivation have also taken their toll against my health, as I slip in and out of either flu or coughing spells, that leave me mostly bed-ridden this month. A small window of opportunity to preach Christ on the streets once again presented itself when my dear brother asked me if I were free the next day to go out. I readily agreed, as I am not one to broadcast my issues just to magnify my situation and acquire sympathy. After walking around for almost an hour we settled on the corner of Moriones and Dagupan Extension. This was a very busy intersection, and it obviously was not a place that street preachers frequently ministered to. Brother Roland preached for more than half an hour as I distributed tracts. People stopped to stand behind us and listen, dozens more approa

I am of all most weak and unlearned, in an academic sense, with regards to ministry. Yet today, I was tasked to deliver the word of the Lord to the humble sheep at Batia, Bulacan. I dreaded speaking out of my own understanding of the text from Judges 17, and so I cried before the Lord and laid down my ignorance and lack. I only had my zeal to lift up my Christ, and I was entreated of the Lord, for his name's sake. What little I brought to fill but a few minutes, He graciously extended for two and a half hours. It is so easy to love these people. What joy in their singing! They sing with their hearts open, with no pretensions. Though they be small and weak, yet are they rich in God, for the Spirit of the Lord is upon them. I was only too humbled to step in the place of my brother Jordan, their beloved pastor, for this one day and encourage them in the ways of seeking the glory of God in their lives, and towards the ministry of the church to the people in Batia, and beyond.

The Lord moved today in sending my brother Roland and I, together with Tina, to a remote place in San Jose del Monte, called Likaw-Likaw, where a small gathering of Catholic devotees were celebrating their 2nd anniversary with a thanksgiving mass, and two of the people overseeing this event inviting us over to speak the word of the Lord to the audience. Whether they had a more personal agenda to all this or not does not matter, we have been presented with a rare opportunity to preach the Gospel to a captive audience who. Confused as we were, this incident, as I deemed was from the Lord, leaned towards to the advantage of the Gospel, for brother Roland was earlier able to minister the word even inside the jeep we rode in towards the location. Groups of young teens, women, and men, eagerly listened to the message of hope and warning, and they easily accepted our tracts. There were about 25 inside who were able to hear, and even the driver slowed down to listen. This may be on

From my journal entry, early morning, December 5, 2017, 9:15 AM I would that God be pleased to let me see my utter vileness. Minute specks and shadows of pride lurking in the spaces of my heart that I know little of. For there are two avenues in my past life that the devil exploits to sore thrust at me, and bring about, more than discouragement, my fall: pride and lust. I am all too familiar with this deadly two headed snake of my past life. The former I am yet able to recognize and abase, the latter I am able to recognize but have yet to slay. Indeed there is now no condemnation for me in Christ Jesus, but the burns of these stenches on my carnal flesh, which had gained mastery over me for most of my years, war with me most oft. The devil tries much to wear me down with lust before, during and after prayer, and where he fails, he pushes in pride. He alternates between the two, and I have failed in my flesh enough that I am left discouraged and unwanting to continue, for how

This day, we were to celebrate our company Christmas party after three months of continuous and engaging work. I was minded to shut myself in and spent the afternoon in silence before the Lord instead. Before the close of the day he brought us here to Muzon again, with much forceful conviction, to deliver another message.

I did not wish to attend our company's year end Christmas party, so I shut my phone off and spent the afternoon in prayer instead from 1 till 430 P.M. afterwhich I suddenly felt that I had to go out and minister again at Muzon ( that place where I said I would not go back to ). I did not even bother asking my wife, who was at the market at that time, I had fire in my belly that I knew cannot be put out apart from  heeding its urgency. It was the Lord's plan that my wife caught up with me as I was on my way out. Two is always better than one when it comes to street ministry. I am continuously thankful that she has the heart for it. And so we went, half wondering why the Lord brought me out late on a Monday afternoon to this place that I said to myself I would not go back to. While we were distributing our tracts this man beside where I was told to stand asked for one and read it close to me. A few moments later he started asking me questions about what the tract said. H

For the last two months I have been both staying in and up working on our December projects, barely clocking in 25 hours of sleep a week. I wasn't able to work in the streets as I would like to during this time, occasionally managing to sneak some time out in the morning to distribute tracts at my nearby haunts. But what I lost in external ministry I gained in much needed time for the inner man, as prayer became my main occupation on a lot of silent and lonely mornings. There is something in these 4 AM meetings that refreshes me as time and time again I am brought into severe and constant self examination. "Search me O, Lord.." was my constant cry. Worship became my yearning. I am oftentimes reduced to being silent before the Lord, unable to speak. In my utter helplessness to impress the Lord with words, He was so much magnified before me.  On our last week before submission I was finally able to go out again to minister to a place that has been on my mind of late. I

This night, I traveled back through time two thousand years ago. I found myself inside a large enough hall fitting almost three hundred souls, all clamoring to see the unfolding spectacle. I had to violently pull the man beside me just to ask what the commotion was all about. “They have just brought him in for trial this morning!” , he shouted, laughing. “Who?” I asked. He looked annoyed but was too lost in the jubilation, he shouted at me,  “The Nazarene carpenter!” . My heart stopped for a brief moment at the mention of the words, I can only think of one person. I frantically looked around as the crowd suddenly roared in one direction. A man of dignified appearance slowly stepped out into the balcony overlooking the hall, with him a crippling, half bent man, wrapped in a scarlet robe, torn from face to foot, unrecognizable. I pushed my way through the crowd and somehow managed to get to the front line until a soldier blocked me from stepping any closer. I strained my neck and str

Take a good, long, and hard look. Let it sink in. I mean really sink it in. This is where most good intentions, good ambitions, good marriages, good romance, good relationships, good dreams, and good people go; people like your close relatives, your sweet husband, your beautiful wife, your loving father, or your caring mother, your son or your daughter, your brother, your sister, your niece, your nephew, your best friend, your co-worker, your classmate, or your neighbor. Everyone you know living the ordinary life from day to day. Both the religious and the atheist. The priest and the devotee. The pastor and the church attendee. Basically, hell is full of good people. Good people who went through life thinking that as long as they mind their own business in peace, do no harm to anyone, be charitable and help people, that everything will be alright and hopefully they earn a free pass. Good people who believe that by doing good they can hope to go to heaven. Heaven is the pursuit eve

We were privileged to have had a small part in the Lord's ministry through a dear sister who does open-air preaching in Dipolog, Zamboanga. I was moved to contact her and open up the idea of sponsoring her tracts. Being the months before the yearly December film fest, I was staying in almost 6 times a week in the studio with barely clocking in 4 hours of sleep a day since late September. I fell sick when I came home last night but I devoted this day and set my mind to get this done among the many backlogs in my to-do list. This specific tract is in the Visayan dialect, ( I think..). It excites me to know a person at the far end of the country would be reading it. The cello vs. printer exchange was a wise move. The money used for the materials and parcel came from our own ministry fund, where we set aside part of our salary for the Lord's work. He has graciously provided for our needs himself.  May Lord Jesus Christ be lifted up, and bring his prodigal sons and daug

This article I read more than two decades back stuck to me. It was about a cross country runner who was asked afterwards the secret to his persistence. "Most of the time it was just me and a lonely stretch of highway on the desert with the sun beating down on me, I can just give up. So I used the telephone poles. I let it pull me. When I reached a pole I aimed at the nest one." I went down my train terminal stop at Doroteo Jose, Sta. Cruz, to catch the 5PM bus to the province, but I was minded to at least hand out 10 or so tracts. I stood just at the entrance at the stairs going into the station and took out my stash. As providence would have it a line started to form, until it became quite longer than usual. The 10 tracts I planned were just enough for me to get a seat in the bus, but 30 tracts later the queue wasn't getting any less. There were as many as 60 people in the line at most times, the thought that the nth person might be the one God was aiming to reach

From my journal entry. November 8th, 2017. 4:27 A.M. This is a small portion of a long commentary, after reading exchanges between debating preachers. There is a drought of the Spirit of God not only in the land, but over the face of the whole earth. An east wind, a grievous dearth of discernment, breathed not only by those living in open rebellion against God, but also by those who profess to know his name. The culprit of which, is neglect of continuous communion with God himself through His word, and constant secret prayer. God has no favor with the hasty comers and goers. He reveals the precious jewels of his living word only to those brave enough to wait on him, even, or most specially, in times when he chooses to be silent. No parent will trust mere children with such precious jewels, yet we expect God to trust us with his divine oracles while we have yet to think seriously if we have the faithfulness required to carry such a priceless treasure. We then turn to the wisdom of men

From my journal entry. Early twilight of November 2, 2017 Sound doctrine is not about having good theology or becoming a walking concordance: it is about bearing fruit. It is possible to become a good professor of religion without really knowing God. Titus writes about what sound doctrine is: Titus 2:1-15 But speak thou the things which become sound doctrine: That the aged men be sober, grave, temperate, sound in faith, in charity, in patience. The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things; That they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, To be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed. Young men likewise exhort to be sober minded. In all things shewing thyself a pattern of good works: in doctrine shewing uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity, sound s

From my journal entry. October 23, 2017. 4:18 AM. Psalms 119:67, 71 Before I was afflicted I went astray: but now have I kept thy word. It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes. However dreadful in my understanding, it would be far better for me to be a Job; bankrupt, bereaved, and stricken to the bones, than to be as his healthy friends who pointed forth the finger and rebuked him for grieving. The Lord gives strength not to the warriors, but to the weary. Incline thine ear unto me O God. Bow down thine ear and hear me, for I am poor and needy. The self-satisfied do no want to pray. The self-sufficient do not need to pray. The self-righteous cannot pray. ~Ravenhill Psalms 34:18-20, 22 The LORD is near unto them that are of a broken heart; and saves such as be of a contrite spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all. He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken. My

And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: Hebrews 9:27 November 1 is a big festivity here in the Philippines. It is when the whole nation pour into cemeteries to supposedly pray for the dead. I have been, for the better part of my life, part of this celebration, which in reality is more of a get-together for families going there to have picnics instead of contemplating what's really in front of them that day. As a young teen I was in charge of setting up the family tent the night before All Soul's Day. The atmosphere is more of a college fair than an actual observance of the dearly departed: young people walking around checking out if there are cute guys or girls near the family plot, kite flying, music, food, candle stealing, flower stealing, drinking, laughing, and of course saying the rosary, which I can honestly say, accomplished nothing. Holy Cross Memorial Park, Quirino Highway, Novaliches We headed out around 9 P.M. to to my f

As part of our work, we buy bibles to give away for free. Yes, free. No charge. We believe that we are wasting such a great opportunity in taking our freedom to feast on God's Word for granted, whereas there are parts on this earth where owning a bible meant death. There are persecuted Christian's who go to great lengths to hide and keep torn-off fragments of scripture in their mouths to pass on to other Christians. While they fight for their lives in taking hold of just one piece of paper with a bible verse, we comfortable ingrates need to be reminded to even glance at the cover of our bibles, much less bring them to fellowship because we have fancy phones with bibles in them already. The modern landscape is overflowing with digital bibles yet we are still as dead as a door nail. Such is the dross and lukewarmness of our day. It is in this spirit of urgency and thankfulness for lenient mercy towards our country that we want to take every opportunity to get God's W

Back in April, when the desire to publicly witness for the Lord was given to me, along with it came help in the form of brethren. It was clear then what the ministry would be founded on, and with what spirit should it proceed with. It was through the kindness of brother Paul Latour of The Word Street Journal that a template from which we were to model our tracts from was provided for us, as well as the inspiration for the Are You Ready cross. Since then the tract has gone through a number of iterations to be able to present the implications of the Law and the saving grace of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ more clearly to Filipinos. Each tract is a labor of love, taken out of our daily allowance and individually cut by hand, and printed on double sided 120 gsm gloss paper. Why mention all of this? That if somehow the Lord would begin a new work in someone soon, I may be of help to them, like the brethren were to us when we needed direction. Second, to remind us that we repr

I used to massage my grandmother when I was fairly young. I remember crying suddenly one time  while I was massaging her and she turned to ask me why. I told her I just thought that someday she'll die and leave me, and I'll be looking back to that moment that I realized it. She just shrugged. Fast forward 10 years or so to her funeral. There I was staring down at her coffin being lowered in the ground, looking back to that moment that I realized this day back then. Now it's my turn to remind my children how fleeting life really is. When my father got deported here from Japan around 2004, the total time I got to spend with him till he died 2 years ago probably won't even add up to a month. I still have the text message I sent him on the day that he suffered the stroke that led to a three week stay at the hospital. That was the only time in my life that I held his hand as a son. God granted me that I should see him breathe his last. I always remind my children of this

My heart is so proud. My mind is so unfocused. I see the things You do through me as great things I have done. And now You gently break me, then lovingly You take me And hold me as my father and mold me as my maker. At times I may grow weak and feel a bit discouraged, Knowing that someone, somewhere could do a better job. For who am I to serve You? I know I don't deserve You. And that's the part that burns in my heart and keeps me hanging on. As I walk with You, I'm learning what Your grace really means. The price that I could never pay was paid at Calvary. So, instead of trying to repay You, I'm learning to simply obey You By giving up my life to you For all that You've given to me. I ask you: "How many times will you pick me up, When I keep on letting you down? And each time I will fall short of Your glory, How far will forgiveness abound?" And You answer: "My child, I love you. And as long as you're seek