Divisoria

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 approached me just to personally get a tract. A police officer from the nearby station came to me to ask what the work was all about, asking typical things as to what denomination and church we are from. I told him we do not belong to any denomination, but are simply testifying about the great things God has done for us through Jesus Christ. After I've witnessed to him, he was very pleased to walk away with a tract. Two more police officers on motorcycles passed by with their hand extended to ask for a tract. 

When it was my turn to speak, I put my gear on and proceeded to wait on the Lord. After ten minutes there was nothing; not a word. I still waited for another few minutes, and told my brother I had nothing to say from the Lord. I was somewhat disappointed with myself but had to bow myself out and ask if Roland would be preaching again. We agreed to change location and walked to our next stop: Abad Santos St.

I stepped up first and borrowed the megaphone, propping myself up to speak, but there again, was no word. My dear brother stepped up in my stead to preach to the people while I simply documented him. The traffic enforcer we asked permission from left his post, pulled up a chair behind us under the overpass stairs and listened throughout the whole preaching.

We finished past 12 noon and took a ride towards Quezon City Memorial Circle to fellowship with brother Michael who was to meet us there. There was not much people today. We proceeded to the open space just in the front of the monument and preached into the open air to a large group of young students who were there to practice some dance routine. The brothers preached till past 3 PM to this group who mostly ignored us, though some stood out to listen. 

At the close of the day, I did question myself if I had done right by not speaking; reflected in myself if I had anything hidden that I was not aware of. I concluded and surrendered that I went out not to preach but to obey. I refuse to speak for the sake of show, and I mostly refuse to speak my own thoughts and misrepresent God. Not speaking because I have no word from the Lord is just as noble as speaking when I have word.

It is enough comfort for me to know whether only one or all of us spoke, the Lord's words will not come back to Him void, but will accomplish the purpose to which He sent it. My silence may have done more good than if I have spoken.

At the moment I am writing this I am again suffering from another onset of flu and fever. The second I have had this month. The findings being an infection with my blood, that leaves me weak and incapacitated. I continue to wait on the Lord in prayer.