Bocaue To Panasahan To Bustos And Back

Morning. Panasahan Fish Port in Bagna, Bulacan is a jump off point to the other isles within the Malolos district. It is a 19 kilometer drive from our town. My daugh and I opted to proceed here first instead of Bustos Public Market while I was yet unsure which place to go to. Malolos was a previous preaching destination of ours, (see here), but we arrived there late in the evening, and except for a tricycle line in front of the church, there were very few passers-by. This was another opportunity to return to the area. After securing permission from the officer-in-charge I proceeded to stand on the corner across the main pier and deliver my message.

The people were obviously not used to this sight - and message. But they knew, and were aware of what we were there for. As in most cases we were ignored, but a few souls listened from beginning to end, one of whom stared at the ground for the whole length.

A lone tract laid in a puddle of water where we parked. I find these almost all the time I give them away. But I am not the least concerned about the cost of the paper, for instead I see a dead man walking. Discarded tracts are tangible proofs of man's inherent rejection of God and the thought of Him.

After we were done I asked my daughter how things went with her and she narrated to me her various encounters with the people. Training the next generation of flag planters involves hands-on experience. She willingly gave up school this year, and instead is now focused on the more important occupation of fighting the war for the souls of men.

By noon we left for the next town on our map, Bustos Public Market. 23 kilometers away near the borders of Pampanga.

One of the first recipients of our giving away of tracts was a man who insists that there is no heaven, and hell is what we make of it here on earth. Part of my daughter's education is to encounter real life characters that span a broad range of human experiences, and consequent views on God. This man was obviously putting up a desperate front for a life of hurt, as all people who have bitter pasts do. Upon returning the tract he received he was then left to wallow in his hopeless spiral towards death with a stern warning and plea. May the LORD take pity on him.

I have tried speaking, or in a few instances have spoken, with quite a number of people who are either educated, or belong to the middle and upper class of society. They are very hard to converse with about the gospel and couldn't care less about what I or the bible had to say about God. But street dwellers are always a pleasure to talk to. They are a ripe plentiful harvest. And every soul that approaches me to ask for help, after being promised a meal after, is eager to talk. These souls rarely feel they matter. Listening to their stories help me see the other side of life I may never see, or can only imagine. I cannot begin to understand what one day is like for them, so I try to dig deep with questions that they are visibly happy to answer, and I can learn from. After an episode one soul revealed in a sincere tone, "thank you taking the time to listen to me."

I did not plan on pleading on these two locations. But when I was taking my time, playing with a doubtful mind whether I should just take out the small lapel, as it was a good idea just to give away tracts, the LORD gently asked me: "Are you embarrassed to speak of me?" Immediately I denounced myself and took out the bullhorn. Shaking my head in utter disgust at my self, "I will never learn, Lord."

I was assisted in my voice and spirit, the word arresting the attention of the market people before and behind me, including everyone within eyesight. The pleading was on the judgement of the rebellious and the willing ignorant, that they are without excuse on the day that the LORD cuts off their proud faces from the earth. The gospel is unapologetic, and speaks no kind words for the hardened sinner. There were some souls who did bow their head to the message. May the LORD grant them the heart to understand the invitation.

It was a tiring but full day of sitting, walking, standing, and pleading. The whole trip took us around a small part of Bulacan on a 60 kilometer route. We arrived home safely by the grace of God by 5 PM. In time to meet and accommodate a visiting brother in the Lord for an overnight stay at the convent. 

 

The hours spent on travel was necessary: three hours in all, and was comfortable to say the least compared to the travels of the blessed apostle Paul on foot and on the sea with divers perils around. But the LORD gave us these days, that I resolve to use wisely, and extensively, for the proclamation of the saving news of my Christ. Along the way, we were rewarded with beautiful sights of great rivers, endless fields, and vast plains. What better way to spend memorable time with my daughter in her growing years. Only the LORD knows what she is being prepared for in the dark days to come.