I Cannot

I cannot look at another person without thinking to myself, "Oh Lord, I was once like this person, missing out on the greatest honor and privilege of knowing you." And another part of me that gnaws painfully at my soul, "Heaven or Hell..?" I simply cannot go out and see people and not imagine the horrors they will face should they die without a saving relationship with the Lord Jesus. Eternity is too terrible a word when hell is considered as an end.

I cannot find it in myself to muster the courage to do what I am supposed to do, render utmost gratitude for the unmerited salvation mercifully granted to me. If winning the lottery boggles the mind, being elect is incomprehensible. What joys are promised. What horrors will I miss. All because of the Father's mercy. When I try to understand how my name is known even before the world was created, it so staggers me that my mind simply shuts down. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it, says the Psalmist.

I cannot see enough of my shortcomings. How I fall short of the obedience that is required of me. I cannot see enough of how in spite of my lack, my Lord intercedes on my behalf and pulls me into his yolk, together with me, as I freely share of his strength and righteousness.

I cannot follow that which I do not love. I know that I love imperfectly, yet I am wooed and lavished daily with a love that is too wonderful for me to bear, is everlasting, and perfect. Ah, the majesty and grandness of infinite love, the love that the Father has for his Son, I so share.

I only was able to bring only 8 bibles yesterday. Two I cheerfully gave to these precious souls who read it instantly even when I left. I would wish to get more and carry more on my commute to work. Every month we allot a portion of our income to buy ourselves bibles to be freely given away. Regardless if we meet the required amount for the children's schooling, there is always the Lord's portion. He has both kindly and faithfully sustained us. We neither ask for nor receive help for such, for we believe that we are not to offer anything to our Lord which cost us nothing. It is a privilege. It is Father's money anyway.

I stood beside the line of public utility vehicles waiting for passengers going into another part of the city, so I thought I should give some away here as well. When I offered the last 5 remaining inside the waiting van, it was gone in the blink of an eye. Tell Filipinos what you offer is free, watch them take it like little children. How great it was to think the eternal word of God was instantly in the hands of my beloved people. I was sad that I can only hand out so few. The wide smiles I received were enough reward for me, appreciation was written on their faces. I may not have captured the frenzy on video, but it is forever in my mind.

A man was standing beside me as I resumed my post, for a long while unusually. He then asked me about the tract, if it was free. This started a warm conversation between Rico and I. He shared with me that there was a time in his life that he figured in a bicycle accident and he died. He saw his bloodied body inside the emergency room of the hospital and right after was standing before a great light. All he felt was peace, to the point that he asked the light if he can stay and not go back anymore. The light spoke, in English, and told him it was not yet his time, and so he awoke after hearing it. It was just a short while that he recalled standing before the light, but when he came to, two days have already passed. it was his conversion experience, being a devout Catholic. He is now a firm believer in the Lord Jesus Christ.

He encouraged me to continue in the work, letting me know that he has yet to partake of the great commission. I told him every believer is expected to take part. May the Lord work in his heart so much grace that it overflows into witnessing of the good things that the Lord has done for him.

I asked the Lord, before I went out, for three things. One is to point me where I should stand. Two is to send me someone who would encourage me at least. And three, if He so permitted me, that I should speak only His words, and none from my intellect. Two of these He gave, the third, to my shame, I declined. I walked back to where I was to catch a ride back to work, and passed by a bus station that had a line that numbered more than five hundred to a thousand people, waiting for the provincial bus. The picture of these people, that should have heard the Gospel had I not been weak and afraid, haunts me as I write this. I regret not speaking. I repent of it.

I will go back. Lord allow me please.