I sat at my window watching the torrential rain. A pair of chipping sparrows flew to rest between the slanting roof over our front patio and the post that supports it.
It was an unusual cold for Southern California.
One of my neighbors claimed that those heavy rains were due to chem trails. He explained tirelessly what those chem trails were. I thought, so much power and unleashed knowledge; such freedom to do good or not do good. I told my neighbor about my view, the Light of God – this helps me see, though not yet so clear.

My thoughts lingered after he left. Why would Jesus become a human being? Such unthinkable love!
The prophet Isaiah wrote, He carried our iniquities and infirmities. This love prompts me to heed the prophet’s words. I say yes again to the Son of God, Jesus the Messiah.
I may soon hear the call to leave this earth, even though I’d rather stay on. Someday I shall meet the One who became the Saviour of the world, Jesus the unconquered King.
But now, I acknowledge my fallenness and receive His love that liberates my sinful heart. I say “yes” to God.

Refreshed on 1/13/2026
Same author: Lucine

This church was in a small quaint building. When I entered in, the music team was already singing. I sat on the fourth row with the brown wooded pew. The wall behind the podium was also in that rich brown wood. Above the podium was a stained glass window. In it was the painting of Jesus in bright colorful clothing. His hands were extended out, as if telling me how welcome I was for Him. I kept glancing at this stained-glass window on and off while the service was in motion.

When the sermon began, I was drawn to the genuineness of the Pastor preaching. At times listening to the words of Scripture, I sensed a kind of joy that Elizabeth may have felt when she meets Mary with Jesus in her womb. One of the happy Christmas stories in the Gospel. He was preaching on one of Paul’s letters to the early church. I had read and reread those verses just recently in the New Testament of the Bible. I recalled how they had come alive to me like the warmth of a campfire in a cold night.

The service ended. I stood up where I was seated, and began looking around hoping to see the couple who had invited me to their church. Most of the people were leaving slowly the church. Some others still remained inside, in twos or threes talking. After lingering a few more shy minutes, I walked out of my pew slowly towards the middle aisle. Three women still seated on their pew, were talking in low voices. One of them looked at me and smiled; I smiled back.

I took timid steps towards the back of the church. As I approached the main door that exits to the street, a pastor and his wife welcomed me in a genuine friendly exchange of conversing. Then saying bye-byes to each other, I went out with a satisfied heart.

The above is a new edition of my story, and a new title. My first version was written fast and untidy.

I corrected my grammatical errors, and made my story a shorter version of it. All together, more poignant,

Have you lost your cool in the middle of a Bible Study? I have. We were a small group of six or seven of us gathering in the same Coffee Shop week after week for almost two years. The thread of my temper had been worn out due to some family conflicts. One of the younger participants, with whom I have had amicable conversations on other occasions – became visibly embarassed by my loudness. She said in her obvious fluster: “Calm down, this is a public place and we are Christians, please sit down.” To no avail. I had passed the threshold of utter frustration. I was misunderstood.

On the following week, I went back to the Coffee Shop. I gave each one my apology for my agitation. They each cordially welcomed me. A few months later, at the same Bible Study, I found myself in a similar predicament. I said to them, “I have to leave.” I walked out of the coffee shop. The following week, I proclaimed another round of heartfelt apologies. Since several weeks now, I have stopped attending the Bible Study. Not for the reason of my outbursts, but for replacing that time in solitary prayer. I was facing a fog of intense sadness. I felt that I had failed God in all my endeavors.

I scheduled meetings with God. Some nights, I would wake up and read His words from Scripture. I would ask Him to quiet my mind, so that I could hear Him speak to me. This went on for several days. There was Karina* who would pray for me when my endurance would fail. I had prior prayer contact with her, I knew that God’s holy Spirit lived within her. She would reply to my texts anytime I needed her praying. I texted her, “Karina, can you call me.” My cell phone rang. She began to pray like Abraham who was a friend of God. She told Him plainly what I needed, intermingled with simple analogies of word pictures.

Then one day, like the sun rising with radiance, the Light of Jesus shone all around me. My whole being sensed the joy of His presence. I knew I had to go on, having a fresh gift of faith, letting go of whatever He showed me to be useless in my life. I knew He had the grace and the power of His Spirit to support me to live as He desired. What love! God the Father in heaven helps me believe again, I thought. I wanted to keep on staying in close contact with Him. The Bible verses began to penetrate my soul with the Creator’s vibrant voice, I shall keep company with Him.

• Name changed

This deep sighing sorrow for severed relationships,

upset hearts in need of silence to hear Him speak,

the Holy One who said “My peace I give to you.”

Hearts cannot hear the Father’s pleading, still He waits;

Who is right, who is wrong, why succumb to error?

Is not the Light visible, will we let darkness in?

Come mighty Spirit of God, give us the faith of the Son,

Let us exchange our deathly doubts, to His words unchanging.

Come bless the Name with holy angels, raise your voices and sing

to the One worthy of honor, the Faithful, the soon coming King.

Shall I make this prayer public, shall I in secret pray?

Or tell Jesus what perfectly He knows and sees?

Conflicting cares within my heart, I weep.

In silent words I swim safely, He stays with me.

I see His face in tears, He gives me hope;

some doubtful pain in me remaining.

On His body Jesus risen are nail marks for me,

for the brother and the sister who cannot see,

for the neighbor and the refugee.

Jesus came to church with us, I asked Him to.

So cold was the morning breeze, I needed Him.

I gave Him all my fears, yet they would return;

and viciously steal my tranquility.

That night before I put my head on my pillow,

“Jesus” I said, “see what I read in Your Word,

A psalm of victory instead of anguish written for me,

the promise of Your prevailing peace.”