Planting and Trees?
Ohh la.
Been and typed:
‘Tend not to crit Christians. Certainly little/no interest in debating. On the previous post about ‘Russian Preacher’ dashed out ‘...bore/where’s the power?’ for the same kind of reasons someone hits the streets and speaks-out about Jesus i.e. evangelism. Thinking, “suppose a searcher is . . .
What Us?
Will I… what?
Do what’s required in knowing; See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, – This.
Earthly and temporal for redeeming mercies and salvation, from less suffering than would be otherwise. For children especially. Tortured and tortured and multitudes…
( – anger and . . .
Turning
Devotion and love: Why?
Because only God is truly that interesting, love-giving, truth telling, wondrous and real. (This, for a start). Puts something in us, and this – unearths who we are.
Made for worship and mission. Many embark on a ‘following Christ’ life but few, fit for. God calls everyone but somehow gets . . .
All Because
Going fanatic and obsessive in push, push, pushing... to pray-a-lot. Because God appears brighter as the ways of the world, look increasingly dark. Unless intoxicants/few beers, lightens my heart, dizzying my perspectives, keeps me from mourning our lot. Nowadays the shock of false and fake projections are ongoing. We ought to be . . .
Sing Up
Slamming the church is easy. By ‘church’ mean gatherings around a talk and songs. By church, should be talking; Intentional community for wider-community service. But on happy-clappy to bells and smells events. This shebang. Onto this.
Because, a growing need, is to sing some-thing. Need = what’s needed; To be, and battle, . . .
Advert
Famine or feast – and hearing the word of God? Thus saith kind. Consider we receive, on a need to know basis. In a place of ongoing praying, word, worship and fasting – become unblocked. Being in the flow with faith. Re-appropriated and given out – regardless the number of hearers – purposes and produces, unseen cries and . . .
Pull Up
What to judge, when – who?
No word this morn or desire to write. Know why. On a rare – thank God – self-loathe. Better therefore, press in, on and into. Get on and soon-as, get off, this imaginary platform with imaginary readers. Pride be pummeled by gushing over trying, to be attractive, tones. Turn over the table, . . .