If my pastor is not crazy, why is
he encouraging me to fear God, when the world has become the survival of the fittest.
Is it not comfortably stupid to
allow these beautiful young damsels go untouched, it will take the religiously
genius to stay away from all of these.
This Sunday, I came early to
Church wondering on which side of the divide the cane will stroll from. Nothing
is as beautifully ugly as standing in front of people who only warm the chairs
every Sabbath Sunday. Hoping to see another oratory drama from the pulpit.
Patience is a wrong sermon to
preach when the order of service is hurriedly perused, prayer scatted over in
the heel of a man being pursued by an angry mad man.
Another boring topic to this
generation of Russians, we seem to be in a hurry to nowhere because it has never
and will never agree with the mind of God.
The wall clock staring at the eyes
of almost everyone listening, hoping, when will this unserious and untanned
fellow bring this archaic message to an end.
What interests this pew crickets
is the sermon from world street journal, biting economy, the crawling human
solution that crippled almost all the nation of Israel.
The pens were so much ashamed to
even bother to dazzle the writing pad. Some 30 minutes later, I chose to breathe
in, and then breathed out with a rhetoric, where are you rushing to? Heaven or
hell? A sudden twist of events, from my head to the toe, 100 angry eyes pierced
me almost leading to gymnastics shivering.
What a way, I broke the camel’s back;
throw some holy jab for definite knock out. Impatience have depraved us of
hearing God correctly, raised the great number of worldly Christians, immature
and kwashiokored lifestyle. Failed and typewriter like brethren. Holiness is
almost extinct because we have refused discipleship. So I cried as I dropped
the tone….
Brethren, shall we rise up on our
feet, I perceived something which has never happened in my two years of
battling the devils from this pulpit.
The amen reached the heavens, the sudden rush engaged a traffic jam, the
departmental meeting held with room for thought sharing among brethren. Hope am
not still crazy like they said on my first Sunday in this church.
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