FAIR SUNSHINE

This morning my wife saw the large soursop we have been watching over for weeks now laying on the ground crushed, and immediately I remembered reading a recent article about an American pastor who had a huge following, as he was also a prominent book writer, finally admit he was not (no longer?) a Christian. He went on to sincerely commend the affection and love he received more from the celebrating sodomite community, among others, than the Christians. While the news caused some to react negatively, most were saddened, a few were condemning, but this was to be expected. Not that we are to expect people whom we thought to brethren to fall, but that the times are such that the differences between what is true and what is false is reduced to a mere hairline that is almost invisible, the most grievous offences coming from within Christendom itself, from the very people who shepherd God's own flock. The word of God has already declared in times past. For thus says the LORD of hosts...

God made men for his worship. Yet it is the one thing we know very little of.  We waddle neck deep into so many things for the sake of the kingdom and neglect this one vital privilege by reserving it to a miserable 30 minutes of singing, music and clapping. We are so far from our roots and know nothing of our primary call. I can be many things for God in my own understanding thinking I must do all I can, but if my life is not one of worship, everything is an effort in futility.

Late last year we received notice to vacate the house we have been renting for over five years. Our gracious landlord has finally decided to put it up for sale. Since 1995 we have rented and lived in seven different homes and places, with the children frequently transferring schools accordingly. At the beginning of the year my wife and I have been under the pressure of combing almost five barangays trying to find a new home, talking with different people, visiting different farmlands, (the Lord deeply impressing upon me to look for a place in the middle of a field) and each time we go home dejected. Until two weeks ago, the Lord turned our thoughts to the place where the church we fellowshipped was. A dear sister helped us get in touch with a resident just outside the walls of the village, in the middle of a farm lot, whom we talked with last weekend. All the waiting on the Lord for confirmation finally bore fruit yesterday morning while my wife was in her early morning devotions...