FAIR SUNSHINE

Such is the kingdom of God, as if a man put seed in the earth. He goes to sleep and gets up, night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows, though he knows not how. By itself the soil produces a crop, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. Mark 4:26-28  S piritual growth follows the quiet, unchanging law of the harvest. It works exactly like a seed cast into the furrow of a field—a steady process that brings forth remarkable results silently. Just as the seed, buried deep in the earth, eventually forces its way upward to the light, so the message of faith will inevitably manifest itself in a person’s life once it has taken root in the heart. The transformation is as undeniable as it is profound. One may look upon a field that was once brown and barren, appearing to the eye as dead; yet, in the fullness of time, it is suddenly covered in a bright and pleasant carpet of green sprouts. So it is with the soul: what was once a desert of indiffe...

I t was one of those rare instance where I was granted the privilege of lifting up the name of Christ before the day had even reached noon. I had accompanied my wife to the market, and while she went about her domestic errands, I remained outside pacing the grounds, searching for that particular spot where the greatest concentration of souls might be found. I eventually settled upon a corner, yet it was a spot unfavorable. There was no shade, not even a single wandering cloud over the location; the sun was out in its full strength, beating down with a relentless and scorching heat that I could not tell whether my eyes were teary or sweating. I stood there, a witness offering myself for the sake of the Word. I was steady in the realization that this temporary heat—this burning of the sun—was the worst I would ever have to endure in this life. But as I watched the crowds, conviction took hold. I knew that for these souls, if they were to die apart from Christ, this blistering noon w...

T his day unfolded as a series of seemingly disjointed and unplanned threads, which only became clearer as the hand of Providence wove everything into place. It was by the Lord’s sovereign direction that this afternoon's errand led me to our accustomed place of Sunday gathering; and there, while awaiting my wife’s return, I set myself to the work. I intended to distribute tracts among the passersby, all the while keeping a watchful eye for a station where I might lift up the Gospel, should the opportunity present itself. I saw a pair of Watchtower emissaries plying their wares within the shelter of the kiosk, and my heart was stirred with a hope to engage them in discourse. My previous encounter with their sort had remained a ragged, open-ended affair, concluded only when their leader advised me to seek the counsel of a psychiatrist rather than the face of God. I moved among those resting there, dealing out a few flyers to the gathered souls, and in the course of the work, I exte...

T his particular junction of Bigte, in Norzagaray, has long been a burden for me—a place where I have desired to lift up the voice of the Gospel for many a season. It is a location where three main thoroughfares of Bulacan converge, a crossroads that is never without a multitude hurrying toward their various earthly errands. Three times before, I had allowed the opportunity to pass me by, permitting the cares of the day or the hesitations of the flesh to forestall the work. Yet, on this day, I set my face like a flint. I spoke with a firm intent to my own heart: "I am going today." I would no longer dally with delay nor allow my own convenience to rob the Master of His service today. It was a day to go where the spirit had long since yearned. The area is a vast and bustling expanse, a central hub where the commerce of the world and the authority of man sit side by side. Here, the marketplace teems with activity, surrounded by a police station, and different termin...

Having concluded the children’s study and the exposition of the word that morning, we gathered once more in the afternoon at our accustomed place. We arrived to find the park nearly barren, save for a few weary souls lingering within the kiosk—some were sleeping, others doing this and that, but all merely passing the hours of this bright afternoon. Feeling no desire to dally further nor delay my Master’s business, I walked directly to my appointed station and stood. I had intended to set forth the truths of Luke nineteen, the very text we had searched earlier that day; yet, as I opened my mouth, the Spirit redirected the direction of the discourse. What I intended to deliver as a formal instruction of the mind was soon transformed into a plea for the soul. Among those listening was a man who had backslidden and drifted from the Lord; he had come to the park merely to meet with friends to go on a trip, never expecting that he would instead be met by conviction from the Almighty. H...

O ver the years, many have asked to join me in street preaching. They ask thinking it as an exercise of piety—an experience to be tasted rather than a life to be surrendered. I have stood beside many who began with zeal only to fall away, and I have watched others slip back into a comfortable, everyday life. A full decade has passed, and yet, by His mercy, the fire in me has not dimmed. It does not merely smolder; it burns hotter with every passing mile. While others have traded their crosses for comfort, the Master has kept the flame alive in this servant's heart. It is a mystery of grace that after ten years of pleading with the crowds, the burden for the lost is heavier now than when the journey first began. It is a testimony to the peculiar grace of the Lord that the very videos of our labor in the streets have been used as a net to draw in inquiring souls. The church that now gathers did not come from other churches. It was birthed upon the hard pavement of the public ...

I n the sixteenth verse of the fifteenth chapter of the book of John, Christ said to His disciples,  'You did not choose Me, but I chose you.' Here is the end of all boasting. Our place in the vineyard is not a matter of our own wisdom or selection, but of His sovereign appointment. He has chosen us, and He has appointed us that we should go. Jonathan, a son of mine in the faith. Takes his first stand for Christ. But what is this 'going'? Is it merely a change of geography, or is it a movement of the soul? We must ask: What does it mean to go? Perhaps this 'going' describes a process of continuation and progression—the steady, inevitable march of the spirit from the infancy of faith toward the full stature of maturity. If this is so, then sanctification is the singular driving force behind every step. We do not 'go' by our own strength; we are propelled by the inward work of grace that picks us up from where we are, but refuses to let us remai...

To desire Christ is, in truth, the highest petition a soul can ever ask before the throne of heaven. Yet we must beware the prevailing delusion of the flesh, which seeks to sever the glories of Christ in heaven from the cross of Christ on earth. As fallen and selfish creatures, we naturally incline toward a path that offers the greatest reward at the least cost. The world is full of those who would grasp at wealth without labor, a comfort without any effort, and an indulgence of lust without the weight of its consequence. In the same manner, many seek a faith that requires no work, a Christianity that demands no suffering, a fulfillment without obedience, a cleansing without mortification, a forgiveness of sin without a forsaking of sin, a drawing near to God without a separation from the world, a living without dying, and—in the ultimate vanity—a crown that requires no cross. To follow the Master is to walk the narrow and bloody road He trod; it is to find that the height of our ...

T he night before, the thought of this place was fixed firmly in my mind. Caloocan was not part of my itinerary, yet by morning I felt a settled necessity to go there. The journey to Malaria and back was some forty-three kilometers; and though I could not then see the purpose for such a path, I committed my steps to the Lord's certain leading. Upon arriving, I found the road was closed off, and the way blocked by a great throng of people filling the street. I had at first supposed that a protest had broken out, for the streets were filled with a restless energy that suggested a rally. Yet, I learned that it was the hour for the parents of the town to fetch their children from school. The timing was not the product of chance, but the precision of a Master who is never early and never late. At the very moment the crowd was most dense, the way was opened for the Word to be sown. Truly, the Lord who ordains the end also perfectly arranges the means, turning even a common school-gate i...