When I first came to Christ and heard my very first preacher, I admit my first thoughts were far from kind. Old habits and long‑standing assumptions rose up in me: I measured him by his appearance, critiqued his mannerisms, judged his communicative skills and his ability to hold an audience. I was looking through the jaundiced lens of thirty‑plus years of life, all the disappointments, resentments and petty standards I’d accumulated — and I thought I knew better.
Whether it’s localised gang warfare, global tyrants shaking their white‑knuckled fists over the big red button, or weapon‑toting, brainwashed individuals killing anyone in their path, mankind is learning (the hard way) not to mistake God’s tolerance for His acceptance of how we choose to live in His world.
We arrived in leafy West Sussex with no job, very little money and three children all under 8 years of age. Even though we believed God had told us to come, there was no Angelic presence guiding us into the promised land; instead, all five of us shared one small room in a decrepit B&B that was more of a 1970s theme park!
Our daily walk with Jesus isn’t about ritual, sacrifice, or trying to bargain God into action. It begins when we’re done pretending we can be our own gods—tired of deciding our own fate.
I watched a pastor’s testimony after he travelled to Asbury University to see what was happening at their revival meetings. As he spoke, he kept wiping away tears—he said the presence of the Holy Spirit was palpable at the altar, and God spoke clearly to him about his arrogance and pride in the way he led his church.
I watched a pastor’s testimony after he travelled to Asbury University to see what was happening at their revival meetings. As he spoke, he kept wiping away tears—he said the presence of the Holy Spirit was palpable at the altar, and God spoke clearly to him about his arrogance and pride in the way he led his church.
Isn’t it astonishing how the old Egyptian gods were treated like temperamental shopkeepers? If a harvest failed or a child fell ill, people would stop showing up at the shrine, stop giving sacrifices, and simply blame the deity for their misfortune. They expected a one‑sided exchange: my prayers and my offerings = your perpetual blessing. When life didn’t deliver on that bargain, they walked away — no questions, no turning back, just abandonment.
Worship is not a warm, passing feeling—like spotting a celebrity in the supermarket—nor merely civic pride when a dignitary opens a new business. When Scripture describes God’s presence, it is awe‑filled and totally overwhelming.
