Pen of Iron

Before your mind goes wild thinking that in addition to the house I now own a condo, let me tell you what this condo is all about.

First of all, this condo is in the lot called "The good shepherd". It can house two people and my monthly installment does not exceed $61.- per month over a period of four years. Right now I only own the piece of land. If I want to buy a bronze plaque with my name on it, I could do that later on. Transportation fees and moving arrangments also are costly but then again I can buy a separate package later on. On the ownership deed, Claire, the seller, wanted to write "permanent condo". but I happily refused. Just call it a "condo" I said, if that is the terminology you use for a grave. For me, what you insist on calling a condo in order to hide the tragic reality of death is in fact NOT my permanent residence because I am getting out there on Resurrection Day.

Bewildered, Claire looked at me with tears in her eyes. I had been witnessing to her for about an hour now. She had come over so that I could formalize the transaction, and as I had promised her a couple of months ago, she would talk to me about the funeral plans but I would talk to her about my resurrection plans.

I would like to have what you have she said referring to the ease with which I handled the subject, and seeing the joyous look on my face. I kept on witnessing to her. Before the evening was over she was ready to pray with me. And she did. I cannot with all sincerity tell if she got saved or not, but I was amazed to see the tears sparkling in her eyes every now and then while I talked.

Next week, we are going to Ohio, I explained, but when I come back, will you give me permission to call you and invite to come to my church and hear some good bible teaching. She agreed. I left four gospel tracts with her which she promised she would read later that night. I encouraged her and she was going to start reading the gospel of John and searching the Bible for more truth which like most of us who come from Catholic background, knew very little about.

It not a common thing for people to talk with ease about a morbid subject (a grave, a condo or whatever you want to call it) but while Claire and I enjoyed the cake on the table, I thought of the verse in Nehemiah who said in 8:10 Go your way, eat the fat and drink the sweet, .. for the joy of the Lord is your strength.

One of the things I like about my recent acquisition is that it paved the way for me to also witness to the taxi driver who drove me as fast as he could (without any irregularities) in order to make it on time to my Claire appointment. The taxi driver turned out to be a Lebanese whose 21 year old son, Elie, was not what his father would like him to be. I promised Maurice that my son would get in touch with his son and may be the Lord will do something there as well.

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Posted by Consecrated at 6:48 PM | 1 comments    

"Who did you come for?" was the question that I heard over and over again this Sunday afternoon after I bolted out of Bible Baptist to attend a funeral memorial service at a Catholic church.

Whereas I thought I was going to my friend's husband service, it turned out that there were three dead people who were being prayed ... or being remembered. Have mercy on them, the priests chanted. Prayer for the DEAD.

Excuse me? Who did you come for?

Is it not for JESUS?

The service was held in memory of three dead men and people wanted to find out to which dead person did you belong.

And let me tell you. The church was packed and I mean packed. I could not find a single parking spot when I arrived at Sainte Suzanne (the name of the catholic church where the ceremony was being held). Hundreds of people were in attendance. I parked a good ten minutes away and made it on foot the rest of the way.

The service went on and the chants too. I tried to find some mention of Jesus in what I heard but everytime God was mentioned, he was outshined by Mary. What a contradiction. The service was all over the place. One word about Jesus, others about the saints or Mary or humanity. As the communion service progressed, the chants honoured Mary as being higher the Cherubims and the Seraphims etc. She was hailed as the mother of ..... blasphemy after blasphemy and I struggled as I tried not to listen but I listened attentively to see if there was any hope, any ray of light that might shine in that darkness.

Sadness came over me as I pondered that once I was just as ignorant and in the dark as most of these people who were now lining up to partake of the body of Christ.

I was praying and asking the Lord to illuminate the hearts of the droves of lost sheep, all struggling in the dark. An announcement was made about some sort of a conference. The word was in a language I did not understand. A separate offering was collected. People were putting in $20 bills, but that would not buy them eternal life or eternal security, I pondered. How sad..

As I left the service, the only verse I could think of was what Jesus said unto him, Let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God. Luke 9:60.

Posted by Consecrated at 3:04 PM | 8 comments