What image does the word orphan conjure up in your mind? For me, it is the character Oliver Twist as portrayed in the 1968 film “Oliver!”. A young lad, scared and completely alone, relying on the goodwill of others just to survive. Dirty, hungry and without hope he stumbles along.

Most will know how the story progresses; Oliver finds the family that he never had. He experiences unconditional love, and despite a couple of hitches along the way enjoys all the benefits that his new home affords.

According to the definition on dictionary.com, an orphan is “a child who has lost both their parents.” That means that I too am an orphan, although I’d like to think that the similarities between Oliver Twist and myself stop there. I played a very small role in a production of Oliver! as a child, and over the years have loved to watch the film. I was often thankful that I didn’t have to know the loss, abandonment and loneliness that the character did. I did occasionally wonder what it would feel like if both my parents were no longer with us but found that forming anything concrete in my mind was difficult because they were still here, and I simply couldn’t envisage a time when they wouldn’t be.

It isn’t so hard to imagine anymore.

The feeling of loss is very real. Whilst we didn’t talk nearly as much as we should have done, I always knew I was welcomed and loved. I knew I could call, and they would have time for me. I knew that if they didn’t, they would make time. When there were tough decisions to make, wisdom was available for free. I know they prayed my family and I often.

Now all I am left with is the memories of such conversations, love and wisdom. I pray that I have learned the lessons that my parents tried to teach me. I wasn’t an easy pupil at times.

One of the things that I think has made the transition from having two parents to having none significantly easier is that around 36 years ago I was adopted into another family. While I know some have a love hate relationship with social media, I find it can have its uses – recently I saw some posts that I had shared a couple of years ago.

The first was from Henri Nouwen. He wrote “One of the tragedies of our life is that we keep forgetting who we are.”

You see, I might be an orphan in the natural world, but in the spiritual world, I have been adopted into a family with a Father who will not die, nor change in His love for me. The apostle Paul writes in Romans 8:14-17 “For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’. The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs – heirs of God, and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with Him.”

In a way that I don’t fully understand, although I miss the times I spent with mum and dad, and miss the hugs and jokes I shared with them over the years I can take comfort in the fact that they are with ‘my other Father’. There is a further “mystery” to being part of this spiritual family. Not only do I have millions of brothers and sisters, and a Father who loves me, there are some who I would also call my spiritual mothers and fathers. They have a different role to my earthly parents, but are essential in providing the advice, love and hugs that I can’t get from mum and dad.

The second reminder that I received from social media was that given that I am now “In Christ” I have a heavenly position. Once we are comfortable in the knowledge that we are still part of a family, and that we have a Father that loves us, The bible tells us that we have been seated in heavenly places with Christ. (Ephesians 2:6) That is a present tense reality, not just a future hope. That means we can afford to live and view our situation from a position that is above our circumstances. So often when we are in the midst of a situation, it is impossible to fully appreciate all that is going on around us. The view from above allows us to see things that would otherwise be hidden from us. I know that in the past few months, and especially in the past few weeks it has been difficult to see things right in front of me. It has been easy to feel overwhelmed by the emotion and the task in front of me.

When I do feel like things are getting on top of me, I have found it best to stop, reset my thinking, and start to process things from heavens perspective. Whilst this is becoming more natural for me to do, it certainly hasn’t always been so. I have found that I have to take control, and remind myself of where I am, and who I belong to. I’ve heard it said that it is easy to be positive like this when things are going well, but not so easy when things are tough. My experience is that training yourself to look at the good times from heavens perspective makes doing it when hard times occur natural. We don’t just have access to heavens resources at times of difficulty, there are there for us all the time.

I believe that we are only just starting to realise all that God wishes us to experience here on earth. I am convinced that there is more than we currently see, and that part of the reason we don’t is that we so easily forget where we are and who we belong to.

Mum and dad are beginning to experience heaven. They have eternity to discover the “more” that there is. I look forward to experiencing that too – but for now I intend to press into all He has for me here on earth.

I look forward to journeying with you – no longer an orphan, but an adopted son.

This picture popped up in my facebook memories the other day. I remember when I first saw it, I was struck not only by the truth depicted, but that I had been the beneficiary of a father giving of himself to complete his son.

When I saw it more recently it evoked similar memories, but also new and exciting ones.

There is no doubt in my mind that my father gave sacrificially of himself to help make and shape me into the man I am today. I think it is quite telling that in the picture, the father is offering part of himself to the son. He isn’t forcing it into him. The experience, wisdom and strength are offered, but it is incumbent on the son to accept that, and to integrate it into his life. Dad offered me lots over his 67 years. To my detriment there were many things that that I didn’t accept, or even notice at the time. As I grew older, I was only too willing to accept the gifts. I only wish I could go back in time and accept those I rejected.

While it is true that my father helped shape me, now that he is gone, if feel there will always be a dad shaped hole in my life. I know that I still need to grow. I still need to accept wisdom and experience from father figures, but no one will be able to fill the hole that is left. If I’m honest, I intend to guard that hole. I really don’t want to forget, and I don’t want anyone else to feel that there is a need for that hole to be filled.

This doesn’t mean that I won’t continue to look to father figures to help me. The truth is that there are other holes to be filled. As a father myself, I try to look to my son and offer him experience, wisdom, strength and love, just as my father offered me. From experience, I know that some he will accept, others, in time he will wish he had. The only reason I have these things to offer is because of my father, but in giving, new holes will appear.

I think the the only thing that I don’t like about the picture is that it seems that in giving to the son, the father becomes less. I don’t think that this is what happens in this process. In a way I don’t fully understand, the father is refilled in the process, so he can continue to give. This is a timely reminder as I consider giving to my own son.

The other way of looking at this picture is to consider the Father giving Himself to His children. You and I are the beneficiaries of this. Without what He offers, we will always have holes in our life as we try and find meaning. The only one who can give that meaning is the one who designed you and gave you life. The Father is able to fill the dad shaped hole in my heart, but as I consider that, I’m not so sure He will. I think over time He will smooth the edges of the hole, to make it less painful as it rubs against other parts of life, but I think He knows that dad was unique, and I need that hole to remember him, to recall the things that made him who he was. I have no doubt that some of the sanding of the edges will hurt a little, but I am also convinced that that pain of smoothing the edges has a purpose and will help me to grow further into the man that both my Heavenly and earthly fathers desire for me to become.

The whirlwind of the past few weeks have been some that I would rather forget. There have been highs and extreme lows. It would be easy to assume that everything was against me, that God really had decided this time to abandon me and leave us to get on with things by myself.

I’d like to think that I was the of person that can deal with one bad thing at a time. November was tough. Although we were warned that mum would die, it still came as a shock when it finally happened. We were able to make a deliberate attempt to make memories, share experiences and say goodbye. It was a precious time, which I am grateful for. If there is any regret it is that I didn’t start making them earlier.

I was determined that I wouldn’t make the same mistake with Dad. I was going to spend more time with him. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but because I wanted to. Whilst I knew he was special, he was so humble about it I didn’t notice it often enough.

I think that death is something we don’t talk about enough. Perhaps the reason is that we anticipate the pain that the event causes and push it to the side so we don’t have to deal with it at all. The problem is, it is the one event that will affect us all at one time or another.

I have had to face it twice in the past seven months, and I have to say it hurts. The pain of the loss, of the missed opportunities, of the lost chances to say things gnaws away at you to the point that you feel one more thing may tip you over the edge. That edge is unknown, I think that is the very thing that keeps you from tipping over it.

Yet in the pain there are signs that God was present in each situation. I’m not suggesting that God orchestrated either of them, just that He showed that He was there, that He understood and that He was weeping with me. There is of course precedent for this. When Jesus went to the tomb of His good friend Lazarus, even though He knew what the final outcome of the visit would be , He wept. He was moved by the situation, of the pain that the family were feeling. He cared.

I have no doubt that Jesus does the same over my pain.

I also have no doubt that He will continue to care, continue to weep when I do, continue to support me, and to give me advice when I need it.

The advantage of being a Christian is that you have another Father in place. While I don’t blame my earthly dad for leaving at all, it is a huge comfort to know that I have another Father that will never leave me. His everlasting arms are there to hold me.

My job is simply to lean back into them and allow them to support me. I know that in time I will be ready to stand again.

But for now it is sufficient just to rest. So that’s what I intend to do.

Some days are hard.

There are times when the message that “it is always God’s will to heal” just doesn’t seem to be true. I’m not saying that it isn’t true, just that it doesn’t seem to be. Sometimes no matter how much faith there is, no matter how persistently we pray and declare truth over a situation, things just don’t happen the way they are supposed to. It seems like God isn’t listening, doesn’t care or simply isn’t able to intervene. As humans I think we have an inbuilt need “to know”. We need to know why. As a scientist I have built a career out of finding out answers. As a Christian, I have tried to understand the bible, its message, and how it all fits together. I often find myself in a position where my scientific brain is at odds with the fact that there sometimes just aren’t the answers I want or need in the bible. I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised, after all, God tells us that “His thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways are not our ways.” That’s not to say we shouldn’t try to understand, just that when we come up against things that we don’t understand, sometimes that is the point.

King David spent much of his time questioning God, asking Him why He felt distant. Calling on Him to come and rescue one situation or another.

Throughout his questioning, no matter how dark the situation, one thing persisted. He was convinced that whatever happened, God was to be praised and trusted to do the right thing.

I’ve written a lot about peace recently. I honestly believe that it is possible to know a peace whatever the storm around us looks like, however the fierce or persistent the battering the boat we are in is taking. Some days it is easy to find that peace. Others, we feel like we have to go looking for it, but it’s there, and we can access it.

A song by the Newsboys has the following lyric.

“Lord, I don’t know where all this is going
Or how it all works out
Lead me to peace that is past understanding
A peace beyond all doubt”

It is all too simple to have answers to the questions when there isn’t a real situation in front of us to have the answer to. When reality hits many will look for answers in the wrong places. They will question doctors, science, philosophy and the like. They may even try and change their theology to fit with their experience. My experience is that there is only one place where the peace I believe is accessible is found. Only one place where the answer will ultimately be found.

Until that answer comes, sometimes the only answer that makes any sense is “I don’t know.”

It’s ok to be in that position. It’s ok to grieve. It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to ask questions.

When we look for answers, I pray that we look in the right place.

Some trust in chariots, and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. (Psalms 20:7)

A quote appeared in a Facebook memory today. “A Lion never loses sleep over the opinions of sheep.”

Once I had got over the fact that finding lions and sheep in the same vicinity was unlikely, my first reaction was that it was a pretty arrogant statement. It seems to suggest that we don’t have to listen to anyone else, that we are lord and king over all that we do, and what others think doesn’t matter. Over the years I have been what some might call a nominal Christian. One who goes to church because its what I’ve always done. One who prays, with minimal or no expectancy of an answer. My prayers became a list of things I wanted God to give me, safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t get them. I was OK with that, it was safe. I hung around with likeminded powerless people, did what they did, said what they said and looked like they looked. Just like sheep, if one of us changed direction, even a little, we all followed.

Then I thought about who I was, who God had called me to be. I know that I have been born to be powerful. I have two destinies, one to spend eternity in the place that Jesus has prepared for me, the other here on earth. I have been told that I will do greater things than Jesus. I’ve been told that His ceiling is my starting point. I’ve been told that I am loved by God, that he considers me to be a co-heir with His Son, and that because of His Son, I can boldly approach Him and spend time with Him, ask Him for things as an earthly son asks a father, and simply enjoy being in His presence.

When I finally met the one who I said I had been following for years, things changed. I realised my true identity. I realised that first and foremost I was loved and accepted. I realised I was forgiven (and my list of misdemeanours was long and complex). I realised that the promises of God I read about in the bible were true, were for me and not just the holy elite, and that God wanted relationship with me.

What was most surprising was that the relationship was to be a two way thing. I could actually hear from God. He spoke, and if I listened and did what He said I could be certain that He would be with me every step of the way.

I wish I could say that every time I hear from God I do what He says. I am getting better though. I am beginning to tune my personal antenna into the wavelength that He speaks to me on. His voice is getting clearer, and I have discovered that with the weight of heaven behind me I really can be unstoppable.

If you get a lot of sheep together the noise can be overwhelming. The thing is though, that is all it is. It is noise, meant to distract us from our mission. There are those who will tell you that you can’t. Others will counsel you that you simply shouldn’t.  Don’t let those who are satisfied with lack dictate your mission.  If you have heard from heaven you have two options.

You can simply focus on the goal, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on Jesus. Don’t allow yourself to be distracted.

 Maybe though – it is time to roar.

If anything is certain in this life (and I’m not thinking about death and taxes) it is that Christians are under attack from an unseen enemy. Whenever ground is being taken, we can be assured that there will be a response. I’ve noticed that these responses are rarely front on hit backs, rather they come in from the side, where we might not expect them, or recognise them as related to the break throughs.  

As a family it feels like we had already had our fair share of attacks. Way back in 2011, just as I began to explore my belief that God still heals today and wanted me to be involved in demonstrating that both Dad and I found ourselves in different hospitals for different reasons with serious health issues. Whilst this manifested as a physical problem, I am totally convinced that this was a spiritual attack at heart. The fact that Dad and I survived is testament that prayer works, and God still had plans for both of us. Last year, mum was diagnosed with cancer and sadly (for us) died. Life has thrown a lot our way recently.

I love the quote “God works all things together for good – if it isn’t good, it isn’t the end.” Right now, things aren’t good. Plans that had recently been put in place have changed in a heartbeat. Something that was going to be key in a grieving process will have to wait, probably for a long time. This isn’t the end though.

The enemy has come knocking on the door, trying to convince us that God doesn’t care, that He can’t help, that our confidence is in the wrong place. Isaiah 54:17 tells us that no weapon formed against us will prosper. I noticed something about this today. We aren’t told that the weapons won’t form. We can be certain that the attacks will come. The promise of God is that they won’t prosper. I think that we get a choice – either we can live in that promise, or we can allow the lies of the enemy to taint our thinking and allow him to fill our minds with despair.  

With the current situation, I want to declare that I choose to partner with God. I choose to believe His promises. What has happened this week is a weapon that the enemy is forming against us as a family. It will not prosper; indeed, God has already begun working to reverse the damage. This is a setback, but we are waiting. Waiting for God to move in power, in the certain hope that Dads strength will be renewed, that he will rise up on wings like eagles, that he will run and not grow weary, that he will walk and not faint.

Peace.

It is something that if honest, all of us are searching for.

Many of us find moments of peace, but struggle to find peace that remains.

Jesus said “My peace I leave with you. My perfect peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid. Let My perfect peace calm you in every circumstance and give you the courage and strength for every challenge. (John 14:27 AMP)

If Jesus has left us His peace, if it has been given to us not as the world gives, it stands to reason that we should be able to find it easily, and once received there shouldn’t be any sort of risk of it departing or being taken from us.

I think there are two types of peace, one that is given for situations that we are going through in that moment, and an abiding peace that continues without us really having to think about it. Both I believe, have the same source.

In Philippians 4, Paul talks of the peace of God that passes understanding. “And the peace of God [that peace which reassures the heart, that peace] which transcends all understanding, [that peace which] stands guard over your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus [is yours.] (Phil 4:7 AMP)

I find it reassuring to know that I can have that sort of peace. Over the past 6 months or so, it has been abundantly evident. There has been opportunity since mum died to go to a dark place, to recede into my thoughts and lament the fact that she isn’t here anymore. I do often wish that I had spent more time talking to her, telling her that I loved her. That I am confident that she is having a much better time now than she ever was here on earth eases the pain a little. Being able to, without thinking about it much remain in a place where these thoughts do not consume my every waking moment is the sort of peace that Jesus talked about.

I can’t begin to understand it or explain it (which I recognise renders this attempt a little pointless) but it is there, and I am so thankful that it is.

I believe that the reason for this peace if found a few verses later in the same chapter. Paul says “what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me – practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. (Phil 4:9 ESV)

The two verses are similar, but subtly different. God gives us peace, and the way He does that is to be with us. He comes and lives with and in us through Holy Spirit. That is the only way to find that peace that remains. The only way to experience the abiding peace that transcends understanding. Looking for it in other places, such a work, money, relationships and possessions may bring transient peace, but not abiding peace, because apart from the God of peace, there is no such thing.

He wants to give us His peace. He wants to be with us.

All we have to do is ask.

There is a general rule across the world that killing is bad. Some will say that there are those who perhaps deserve to die, usually due to atrocities that they have committed against innocent people, but for the most part humans agree that it is wrong to kill another human, There are those who reject the Christian faith based on the fact that whilst it clearly tells us not to kill, the Old Testament is full of people doing just that.

In the New Testament, just after Jesus returned to heaven, what we now call the church came under tremendous persecution, and a number of believers were killed. The Gospel is deeply offensive to those who do not believe, and sometimes people are killed for their faith.

Over the centuries since then, at least in the Western world it has become significantly less common to die as a result of our beliefs, whatever they might be. Churches have become safe places to be found, as over time hard fought freedoms have been won that ensure that what we do regularly on a Sunday morning is legal. There is even a recognised, tolerated if not fully accepted branch of the church that is expected to take the lead in performing religious acts at key points in the calendar. The country accepts this version of Christianity because it is safe. It doesn’t challenge the norm or expect people to change significantly. It is often the subject of comedy, at least here in the United Kingdom.

We celebrate this freedom and it is right that we do so.

There are some parts of the world where that freedom doesn’t exist. There are parts of the world where people don’t just ‘pop along to a church’ to check it out.  Seeker services are unheard of. You are either totally in, or totally out. If you are in, you must accept that there are significant risks involved. In China, arrest and imprisonment are a daily concern. This weekend in Sri Lanka the risk was death. Death, simply for going to church on an Easter Sunday.

Even before the atrocities of this weekend I have been challenged about what it means to go to church for me. It is so relatively simple in this country to admit that you are a Christian. There may be a bit of teasing and name calling. The worst that might happen is that so-called friends would stop asking you to go out with them because “you wouldn’t be interested.”  

Church is safe. Christianity is safe. That makes it easy to belong. It makes it easy to do the bits of Christianity that fit with our schedules, families and work patterns. We can say yes to some things, and no to others without risk.

The question I have been asking myself is “would I go to church if the odds were I would be arrested that day and thrown in prison without legal representation? How about if the chances were that I would be beaten up as I walked home afterwards with my children? If simply going to worship meant that I may not make it home to loved ones?”  There are countries where this is a daily question. If these are the risks, you have to be sure that they are risks worth taking. Christians in countries such as China, Sri Lanka, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and Iran are sure. Am I? Really?

I’d like to say yes. I’d like to say that I was throwing everything into this. I’d like to say that I am 100% committed. My heart wants to mean it. I wonder if my life proves what I say I believe?

He is the Pearl of great price. The problem is that in the West we haven’t had to pay very much to buy it. We have become apathetic and comfortable in our nice seats, 1 ½ hr services that fit nicely into our Sunday mornings, before the roast is cooked.

I am utterly convinced that if we really do give 100%, we will see 1^st Century church growth with thousands coming to faith each day. We will see the sick healed simply by walking past them. We will see access to governments and social change making a difference in the lives of the neediest in our society. The dead will rise at our command.

But it won’t happen all the time we are happy to feel safe. If we are content with the way things are, nothing will change. If, however we really are ready to risk it all, anything can happen.

The differences between a caterpillar and butterfly are obvious. The sole purpose of a caterpillar is to eat enough to provide the nutrients necessary for one of natures most amazing transformations. The butterfly seeks out nectar, pollinating plants as it goes.

Once it reaches the appointed time, the caterpillar wraps itself in a cocoon, and emerges days later completely different.

It was once thought that everything turned into some sort of soup, only to be reformed, but scientists now believe that some of the things that existed in the caterpillar are used (sometimes differently) in the butterfly. Small clusters of cells are used in structures of the adult butterfly. Tissues are broken down into clusters of cells that are used to build muscles. Structures such as the gut, trachea and parts of the nervous system are remodelled and used again. Apparently, some memories are retained in the butterfly, suggesting nerve cells remain connected during the transformation process.

As I read the article that the information above came from, it struck me that the life of a caterpillar is not dissimilar to that of a person who comes to Christ.

The bible tells us that we are new creations. (2 Corinthians 5:17) The old person has gone, the new has been born. The reality is that whilst this is true in a spiritual sense, the old physical body still exists. The transformation from one who is at enmity with God, to one who is accepted as a beloved son is instantaneous at the point, we say yes to Him (Romans 8:15). That our bodies and our minds take a bit of time to catch up with the condition and position of our spirit man is something that takes some longer than others to deal with. My experience, like that of the caterpillar is that some the memories from my past life still play in my mind. It is only by deliberately taking every thought captive that I am able to live as one who is seated in heavenly places with Christ. (Ephesians 2:6)

The process of changing me into the person who I was created to be will inevitably involve some disassembly and reworking, but I believe that if I allow Him to do the work, trusting in His master plan He will create something far more beautiful than the way I was. If I trust that He is good, and any changes He wants to make, regardless of the pain of making them, are only made to make me more like Him, then the process will be shorter, and the results far better.

The thing about caterpillars is that once they become butterflies, there is no way back. The transformation is complete, they will never crawl around looking for food again. They will forever be airborne, looking for nectar.

So too with the Christian. Once the transformation has occurred, there is no way back. The old man has died, the new man lives. The thing that troubles me is that there are some in the church who seem to want to bring the old man back to life. They keep trying to revive him, not understanding that there is no way to bring him back.

There are some things that we were never meant to carry beyond the cross. As we reflect this Easter on the death and resurrection of our Saviour, let’s leave the old man there at the cross. Let’s move together, forward into our new reality.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2

I saw a cartoon the other day (pictured above) which made me smile.

At least I smiled for a moment – then I began to think about the message behind the picture. What started out as an amusing comment on the stage of allergens and food preferences made me think about how we treat things that God gives us.

We are happy to accept whatever He has for us, as long as it’s on our terms. We don’t want to feel like we are living by faith, but we don’t want to be too challenged. We are happy to experience the warm fuzzy feeling of His presence, but don’t want to be disciplined by Him. We are keen to worship Him ‘in spirit and in truth’, but the truth is that if it doesn’t fit into a couple of hours on a Sunday morning then we really don’t have time for Him.

The Christian life isn’t supposed to be a snack when we are hungry. It is a proper sit down seven course banquet. Of course we will find that the odd snack will keep us going for a bit, but the nutritional value will be limited. There is a promised land for each of us, but the only way we are going to possess it is if we are in peak spiritual condition. To be in the right shape, we must commit to the meal set before us.

I’ve written before about making sure that we feed ourselves and to not expect our church leaders to provide the only meal that we (spiritually) eat each week. In the same way, we must allow Jesus to provide all that we need. Some of what He provides may not be to our taste. It might lead us out of our comfort zones, taking us to places that we feel vulnerable.  

Are you prepared to accept that the one who made you, knows best what you need? The bible tells us to “taste and see that the Lord is good, blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.” (Psalm 34:8)

It’s not about worrying about whether we should sing hymns or songs, use the KJV or the NIV or whether we have pews or seats. It’s about whether we are prepared to say “Yes”, without question or hesitation. I remember years ago hearing a comedian describing a letter he had received. The conversation went something like this. “How much make-up should a Christian woman wear?”. He replied, “I don’t know sister, it depends on your face.” He went on to explain, that “in a world that is going to hell, we don’t have time to worry about Maybelline.”

The gift that He gave us is worth everything, and it’s free. Following Him on His terms means we get to things on earth as they are in heaven. Following Him means that we get to bring light to a dark world. Following Him means that there is nothing in front of us that we cannot beat.
Sticking with Him may get difficult, I’m not suggesting it won’t end in suffering, hardship and pain. We may see things we don’t understand, situations that we struggle to explain away. What I can promise is that surrendering without question is the only way to find the peace that you have been longing for.

If we believe that God is good then we can be confident that that which He supplies is going to be good, and good for us. Francis Frangipane once said, “too many of us attend church each Sunday, not to be filled with the Spirit, but to be inoculated with just enough religion to make us immune to God for the rest of the week.”

Let’s stop trying to be good church goers, lets start being disciples this Easter, following the one who rode into Jerusalem, hailed with shouts of Hosanna. Ready to follow Him wherever He leads, unconditionally, even if sometimes it feels like Friday night.

Sunday IS coming.