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Israel Holy Trip tour 2018 Day 4: Feeling small in a big land

1This morning I stepped out into the hall of Tay Beh’s Golden Hotel and was greeted with a sweet, deep smell of citrus.  It was a gentle aroma carried along the corridor as I descended the steps into the main lobby and headed toward the breakfast area.  I was greeted by our host Elena and poured myself a small white handle-less porcelain cup of outrageously good Arabic coffee and sat down with another deep breath.

The one great regret that I have is that I cannot bring the aroma of Israel back with me.

The smell of this coffee.

The spices of the market in Jerusalem’s Christian quarter.

The scented candles of the Church of St. Anne’s.

The flower gardens of the Russian Orthodox Church of Mary Magdalene on the Mount of Olives.

I am impressed with the aromatic side of worship in the Holy Land.

Smell is a part of the human existence, and as with other our other senses, we can use them in the spiritual walk in our lives. Think of how our senses are incorporated: we hear the songs of praise and the Scripture teaching; we see the Word in front of us and study its message; we taste of the good foods in our celebratory feasts at church and festivals.  Smell is also a very deep part of the Holy Land life, I am discovering more and more each day here.  The whole experience of smells reminds me that the different churches and cultures thank and honor the Lord with more than music, recitation and architecture.  You see in many places the aromatic worship of the Most High within the realm of the congregation’s meeting place.  As I stood next to an elderly Russian hostess at an ornate sanctuary and tried my best to understand her broken English, I took in the scents of the spices and candles and realized that this was part of their joyous celebration of the Lord.

It was just a part of the deepening learning experience of being here on our fourth day of the trip.

Yesterday’s oppressive heat couldn’t dissuade our determination to learn of Jerusalem.  Dr. Hudson gestured towards the massive numbers of Jewish graves facing the Eastern Gate.  “They are positioned to face the Temple Mount – and the coming Messiah.”  He pointed out the curious numbers of rocks placed on top of the stone graves. “These are stones of remembrance,” he said, “of giving honor to those who have passed on.”

The Eastern Gate, also known as the Golden Gate, is shut by a massive stone blockage.  I tried to imagine that this location was the entryway of Jesus – on the back of a simple donkey – in a grand entrance beginning the Passover Week and in fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9’s call for the Messiah to enter on a lowly pack animal.   I also did my best to picture the future event that will see this very Gate shatter from the disruption of an earthquake that will throw the grave sites aside and form a new valley that bisects the Kidron Valley we are viewing.  The coming Lord will then answer the Zechariah 14 prophecy of descending onto the Mount of Olives and causing the catastrophic seismic event.  He will walk through the now-crumbled Eastern Gate and answer Ezekiel 44’s prophecy of the “opening” of the gate to welcome in the Prince of Eternity.

Our later visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was a second part of the reflection of this Christ.  Such magnificence in architecture is meant to honor the supreme sacrifice of Jesus for all of mankind, and yet this church should not be seen as the last of people’s pilgrimage; this is the gateway to the road of salvation.   I ascended the steps to the Golgotha scene and knelt under the altar to view a decorated opening over the top of the rock edifice.  I reached into the hole and felt the smooth rock.  Was this the exact place of the cross of Jesus?  We will never know here on earth, but does that really matter?  I enjoyed the sensation of reverence and the intensity of the moment, but touching a rock does not enhance my salvation or my daily walk with Jesus.  Walking into the site of what is purported to be the tomb of Jesus was exciting and fulfilling but I don’t need this as a necessary part of a pilgrimage.

Each evening I have been having live real-time classroom broadcasts (via Facebook Live) to my students back at Grace Christian Academy in Knoxville, Tennessee.  The teens will type in questions about my day’s experience. One question brought up was: What does this trip do for me?

There are so many things I could say.  I floated clumsily in the densely salted Dead Sea.  I felt the cold waters and moved past the reeds of the slow-moving Jordan  River.  I tasted the fresh dates and olives of Tay Beh’s gardens.

But what did this trip do for me?  Oh, that’s an easy answer…

It adds to my understanding.  It adds another dimension to my years of Biblical learning; I feel my grasp of the Scriptures growing in both the abstract and concrete aspects of comprehension.  I mean, I can see Jesus walking around the wilderness hillside we are  visiting.  As we stand next to the ruins I could feel the intensity of the Masada synagogue meeting where they decided to choose suicide rather than slavery to the encroaching Roman army.  I can measure out, actually and physically walk off the size of the huge cistern the held Masada’s water reserve.  I can also march through the secret Akko tunnels and take in the immensity of the work involved.

And most of all today, I can relate to the restlessness that John the Baptist felt when Jesus came to him for baptism.  Jacob, Ethan, Daniel, and Dennis requested that I baptize them in the Jordan River.  I am always stuck with a feeling of deep unworthiness whenever I am called to perform the baptism and today – in the Jordan River, mind you – I am humbled beyond words.

This week has been like that in many ways.

Israel is so intense in numerous aspects, with diverse and engaging peoples and buildings echo history.

I stand in the face of such massive history – just as I stood at the edge of Herod’s terrace and looked out over the vast Judean desert – and I feel now just as I did then.

I feel small.

And that’s a good perspective for me.


Israel Holy Trip tour 2018 Day 3: is this synagogue where the young Jesus studied?


We were awakened at our convent in Nazareth and after a short breakfast, Dr. Hudson took us to the top patio/porch of the Franciscan retreat center and showed us Nazareth with a lesson that was panoramic in more than what we heard.   We had an awe-inspiring view of the hillside of Nazareth.

Church towers, domes, minarets and steeples.  Dusty brick and bright white stonework.  Bells ringing.

This is historical Nazareth.

We swiveled our heads to take in the early morning view, trying to imagine the walkway that would have led Jesus up the hillside in that direction to Cana.   I tried to picture in my mind’s eye of the quiet Mary facing the messenger Gabriel who had stepped away from the throne of God Himself to come down and bring a message that would change the world.

We walked to the Church of the Anunciation, an imposing structure that is really a church-within-a church.  An early Byzantine church was built over the site that many believe to be Mary’s childhood home.  The more recent church was literally built over top of the Byzantine structure.  The place was large but quiet.

Then we went to the Synagogue Church.  “This” said Dr. Hudson, “is what many people say could have been the very synagogue where the young Jesus studied.”  A church was built next to the small stone synagogue.  We descended the steps and stopped.

We stopped.

And looked.

Everyone was quiet.

This could have been the place where the child Jesus studied the Torah.  This could be where He sat on a bench and recited passage from Isaiah and Daniel.  This place.

And this was just the start to the day.

Holy Land Trip: Day 2

1Oh, Israel…

My friends, I thought last year’s tour was great. This year’s is even better.

Trying to tell you what we’ve done today in one blog is like my trying to outrace a Tony Schumacher top fuel dragster on foot – I just don’t have the time or speed.  I’ll try my best to give you an overview, and what it meant to me personally today.

This is especially challenging since I am trying to type while our driver Bassan is weaving us through Cana.   I am flopping side to side and trying to keep my fingers on the laptop keyboard.

No complaints whatsoever.  Each minute is a new learning experience.  I mean this almost literally. What a day.

We entered the evening sweaty and suntanned, tired in the feet and yet energized and talkative about what we’ve seen and experienced.

How can I describe these days succinctly?  I am so afraid I’ll leave out an important detail.  We visited the gorgeous gardens of the Bahá’í World Centre in Haifa, walked through underground tunnels in Akko, and wondered at the deep and rich history of Meggido.  And we even squeezed in a lunch of shawarma in a sidewalk café at lunchtime.  And fed a quartet of kitties while we were dining.

Small note: we have run into cats at about every turn where we’ve gone.  They’re everywhere.  In fact, Ethan, Daniel and I witnessed a stray cat sneak into the Akko castle and wedge himself under a plexiglass window and romp around a museum display. It was hilarious.

On a more serious note:  the Megiddo visit was just short of stunning.  We trekked up the front pathway through the daunting remains of the fortress entryway and thick stone walls, wiping the sweat off of our faces in the 90 degree heat.  One could imagine how hot this was on a daily basis as the inhabitants labored in their farmland, wall building, water carrying and other outside labor.  This seems especially ironic when one could look out over the cool, wide, lush Jezreel Valley.

This is an area untainted by huge churches built over every significant site.  You can walk around and imagine life in this settlement.  The shock, though, is of the realization that this huge hill is completely made of continuous civilizations building on top of one another; it could be up to 25 civilizations each making the previous buildings their foundation stones.  I find it especially striking – like last year – that this will be the viewing point of the final battle of the ages – the Battle of Armageddon.  Overlooking the peaceful flat valley conflicts the mind; there will be incredible bloodshed here?

War dominates the themes of the morning.  Akko’s fortress is beyond any quick description.  The huge walls and the massive building blocks.  The deep halls and the underground tunnels.  The musty meeting rooms and the awe-inspiring arches and columns.  All built in the name of war.  All built by Crusaders who were in a religious conquest that was, sadly, spotted with tragedies and crimes that are hardly justified.  The construction of this huge complex can only be grasped by viewing one of our Classroom Travelers videos.  We walk around the wide rooms in order to get a perspective of the hugeness of the place.

We later stopped by Haifa, stopping at the top of Mount Carmel.  This is the land of Elijah and his showdown facing the priest of Baal.  This is the location of the sacrificial altars and the fire from Heaven.  One could imagine the people carrying jars of water from the beach of the Mediterranean as Elijah urges them to be quicker and to pour the water contents all over the wood of the altar.

We were on the move throughout the day and into the evening.  Sure, the food was fantastic, but that’s for another time and is not important to this blog.  We studied.  We questioned.  We learned.

Isn’t that what the Lord enjoys?  The Lord REMINDS US IN 2 Timothy 1:7 that He has given us a sound mind.  It seems to me more and more as our generations progress that this is overlooked.  We do understand the verse in its “power” and “love” context; after all, isn’t that what God is all about?  We often ignore the “sound mind” aspect and the need for learning and expanding our understanding.  I have urged the group to study and then to be ready to teach when we get back to the States.  There is a lot to learn and there is much to instruct.

I must run… we are nearing Magdala. There is another lesson ready for us.  Thank you, Lord, for this fantastic outdoor classroom experience.


Holy Land Trip 2018: Day 1

1Bonjour, mon ami.

It is 6 a.m. I am greeted this morning by a a group of quietly smiling elderly tourists in the dining area of the Couvent des Religieuses de Nazareth, a spartan but clean and well-run  hospice for travelers in the Holy Land.  I am nursing a coffee while trying to suppress a raging headache; the humidity change has wreaked havoc on my sinuses and I am praying this does not turn into a migraine before we step into the bus today; we have a full schedule today, starting with Megiddo.

It’s dry on that mound, brother.  Really dry.  Perhaps I can get some sinus relief.

But hey, this trip is fantastic.

This is my second visit to Israel and it is no less exciting – well, satisfying might be a better and deeper word.  Last year was a combination of delighted surprise and near-reverential awe at each stop; this year’s travels take me past from the first-look stammering.   As Dr. Hudson so aptly related last year:  “It’ll be like trying to drink out of a full-blasting fire hose.”  So true last year.  This week, I have a better ”map” idea of the region as well and a leg up on the fundamental historical facts of most of the sites. Things are connecting in their relationships to one another throughout history.

Caesarea was our main stop yesterday, a beautiful settlement along the Mediterranean Sea.  Caesarea Maritima – not to be confused with Caesarea Philippi – was the retreat for Herod as well as the timeshare for Pilate.  Paul took a ship from this very same bay.  The remains of the dock are a testimony to its former magnificence. What a way to start the week’s tour!  It’s almost like stepping into Disney World and getting immediate access to the Matterhorn – you’re jumping right into the excitement.  Dr. Don Hudson has the whole expedition down to a science, walking and explaining at every column, statue, archway and stairway.  This is the world of Herod the Great and his remarkable building achievements.  The glory of the past can be seen even today as you climb into the center of the 3500-seating-capacity Theater and view the remaining walls of the breakwater to the ancient docks.  I fully admit that Herod was a despicable character – and history rightfully portrays him as the ruthless killer that he was, even in trying to kill the infant Jesus – but within his scheming for power and glory was an eye for architecture and planning that still amazes today.

We walked along the Hippodrome and tried to imagine the spectator’s views in this stadium (hippo is the Greek word for “horse”.)  “I like the architecture,”  said Art.  “I have a relative who was a stone mason, and the creation of the design of these many buildings intrigues me.”  Chariot races were the rage, and sadly so, so were gladiator fighting between enslaved Jews.  There may have even been a slaughter of hundreds of Hebrews in this site after the Jewish revolt of 66 A.D.  Herod was a monster but he also knew how to please the aesthetic eye.  The various designs along the walkways and in the sides of the sarcophagi show an eye for intimate detail.  Yes, we actually saw sarcophagi (plural of “sarcophagus” – they are stone coffins) that were unearthed and put on display.  Each one bore an inscription of the deceased and a few were adorned with artwork of a deity.  One inscription actually finishes with the phrase that translates roughly to  ”… he died.  Such is life.”

Good way for us to view Caesarea.   I am reminded of the genealogy lists in the Scriptures.  Each phrase finishes with “…and he died.”   With all of the greatness or not-so-greatness of the individuals noted, each ends with the same reality:  “…and he died.”  We are all mortal.

We look at the impressive built-for-eternity sites of stone and note very clearly that there is a reason why we call them ruins.  Live forever?  They didn’t even make it past two thousand years.  Whether by erosion, earthquake or aggressive conquest, these magnificent structures had a very short shelf-life.  We are also reminded that the very powerful potentate Herod died miserably of a bubbling gastro-intestinal disease.  He also had gangrene on a part of him I’m not going to discuss.

“…and he died.”  Won’t we all?  Have we committed to any investment of the eternal future?

In addition to mortality, I am reminded of what a monument really is.

In America we don’t really have it down on monuments.  We create memorials that are recent and ready for renovation at any time.  If a structure is more than fifty years old, we raze it for a newer and better building.  This trip reminds us of the deeper time stamp of mankind. The first day told me that this Israel is a land for the ages but it ultimately reminds me of the King of the Ages, the Ancient of Days.  The Herods of history couldn’t stop him and the Neros of history could not halt His followers.  Our trek through the past gives me an even deeper appreciation of the future.  For me, traveling the Holy Land is viewing the past as history and as the future with hope.

You’ll see what I mean as you view our videos, pictures and blogs during the course of this week.

Day 27: He walked up to my desk, extremely upset…

1Luke 19: Tuesday of the final week of Jesus’ Earthly life.  He came to the Temple on Monday in the midst of great fanfare by the people, but Christ ignored the crowd enough to personally witness the corruption in the courtyard of this magnificent place of worship.   Corrupt money-changers, sneaky priests, business dealings within a stone’s throw of the Holy of Holies…

The next morning, Jesus came back, and He meant to deal with this.  Oh, and did He ever:

“He entered the temple and began to cast out those who were selling, saying to them, ‘It is written, “And My house shall be a house of prayer,” but you have made it a robber’s den.’ ” 

However, He then changed gears and did something we often overlook in this passage:

“He then began teaching daily in the temple, with … all the people hanging upon His words.”

Wait.  What?

Hanging on His words?”

Yes.  That’s not a trick choice of words to be artsy with the language.  In the Koine Greek it says exactly this:

ek-kre’-mä-mäi   Definition:  “To listen so closely so as to hang upon the lips of a speaker.”

Jesus was not telling enjoyable stories about His childhood or a funny thing that happened on the way to the synagogue when He was a teenager.  He was getting to the heart of the matter.  He was showing in His words that He was God’s true King and Son, the long-awaited Messiah.  

He did not arrive and try to whip up the crowd to fight the Roman army’s Fort Antonia, nor did He go after the house of Pilate.  He didn’t even mention the Romans at all. 

He openly condemned the religion of the day.  He totally dismantled the idea of following a pedantic liturgical walk; rather He pointed fervently to the true worship of the Lord God.

Stunning words.  Shocking words.

True words.

Just as He had said in John 4, as He spoke to the Samaritan woman: “God seeks true worshipers who worship Him in Spirit and in truth.”

The people were thrown.

And …

… they loved it.  They hung on every word.

Popular opinion?  Of course not.  It would foment the leaders of the day into violence.

Necessary words?  Of course.  The people needed to see the Light.

In class this week, we had talked about sin and the danger of Hell.  It was not a pleasant lesson, but we became very Scripture-intensive.

As class ended, the sophomore young man sitting in the back came up and cracked his knuckles on my desk.  He was not smiling.

“I’ve been needing to hear this,” he said.  “I have been wondering about this for some time and I …. well, I really needed to hear this.”  He promptly turned on his heel and headed out into the hallway.

It’s not the stories. It’s not the emotions.  It’s the true, powerful Scripture of the Truth.

May we get a spiritual grip and hang on every word of this sacred Book.

Day 26: “Would you just shut up!”



As soon as I walked in the door of the building, there was a young man – a former student – standing and waiting to talk with me in my classroom before school officially opened.  Alan is in college right now, but his life’s goal is to become a missionary.  He came in, sat down, and shared his heart on the various mission fields he is exploring.  “I am not sure,” Alan said.  “I have been to Honduras and I’ve seen a great work done there, but my heart seems to be turning me toward Russia or China …”

What a great way for a Bible teacher to start the day.

Two other young people piled in as soon as Alan had left.  Mind you, school had not started yet, but they bounded in the room grinning like Cheshire cats.  Kevin and Lori plopped down in nearby desks and gushed out how on Sunday their pastor had been teaching on angels – “The exact same stuff you were teaching in class last week!” exclaimed Kevin.  “The six-winged angels of the book of Isaiah -”

“- and he went a bit into the book of Ezekiel and those angels as well,” interrupted Lori.  “We were right on top of the whole subject.  I mean, we knew the stuff even before he was teaching it!”

Oh, yeah, I was having a great morning start.

Even better – later on, a parent sat in on one of my classes to observe.  She even brought in candy for the kids.

Oh, the days have been filled to the brim, and not just with busy-ness.   We have been in deep discussions about angels, Heaven, God the Father, Jesus’ dominion over demons…

… and debates.

I take on the whole class.

My former students who are reading this blog know that this has happened in my classroom over numerous years, and once again we had the same scenario in more than one class last week.  Each year as I debate my students, I play the part of an atheist, cult member or non-Believer while my students  – the whole collection of pupils in the room – will play the part of the Believer.  They may use their notes, their Bible and access to a computer in order to be knowledgeable in their discourse.

When I announced that we would have a debate later in the class, I had a young man boast to his colleagues.  “I’ve got this.  I know just how to beat him –  he won’t stand up,” he grinned.  I merely finished tapping on the keyboard, entering attendance and listening to his continual bragging. I wondered how he would hold up…

…it didn’t take long in the debate for me to realize that he couldn’t.  His idea was that a multiplicity of words would be good enough for a debate. In other words, if you just kept talking and didn’t breathe, you would win your point.  He soon discovered that a voluminous vocabulary doesn’t replace the value of each word put forth.

Choose your words.  Line up your thoughts.  Measure your communication, especially in such a serious subject as belief in Christ.  Arguing for argument’s sake is fruitless.

On Sunday in our church service, our pastor Bobby McCoy read about the very same problems from the tenth chapter of Ecclesiastes:

Yet the fool multiplies words. No man knows what will happen, and who can tell him what will come after him? The toil of a fool so wearies him that he does not even know how to go to a city.

I was never very good at math.  Oh, I get by, but you would never consider me an Archimedes or Fibonacci.   I did like multiplication, though; there is something about aligning those numbers in columns and getting a neat, precise answer that I enjoyed.

However, that Bible passage warns me about multiplying my words just to line them up.

I don’t simply want to gush words – I want each phrase and sentence to have deep Jesus-led meaning.

This brings to mind the memory of a parent, not a student, of over twenty years ago.

I was an interim pastor as well as a school chaplain in another school and had the good fortune to enjoy acquaintances with many families.  One particular father,  however, was a challenge at every meeting. And I mean every meeting, whether after school or in a fast food joint.

Simply put, the man did not know how to stop talking.

I am not going to bore you with details, but I will tell you with no fear of contradiction that “Barry” would talk for twenty minutes straight without taking a breath.

Well, he would take a breath but it was actually a phrase:  “But, uh…”

It was torturous in a group, as folks who were caught would quietly sigh and resign themselves to his monologue.  Someone in the group would try to say their good-byes but could not politely interject, because at the end of a sentence Barry would say “But, uh…” and launch quickly into another subject.

People would try to drop hints to him but he was clueless.  “But, uh…”

Families would hide when he would approach after church services:  they wanted to try to make Sunday afternoon restaurants before they closed.

I tried to talk with him about it but he could not see that he was a gush-talker.

He filled up every available second with his voice, and it didn’t take long before I realized that Barry was in a sincere panic that if he paused for even a second, someone else would step in an rip the conversation away, which he felt was his own to have and to hold.  The sad fact was that none of the conversations had any depth.

Even to the day that we moved away from that little town I was in danger of not leaving on time.  Barry had one more monologue to spill.

It has been a deep lesson burned into my memory.  I constantly watch for the danger of multiplying my words into a conversational mush that would be fruitless in the classroom.

In the debates, lectures and discussions, I remind myself of a little poem I heard years back:

fill my mouth with worthwhile stuff,

and nudge me when I’ve said enough.




Day 25: This amnesia led to disaster

1“Absent-minded” is a very good term that describes me.  I am not proud of it, but the description suits me well.  Last year I lost all of my keys.  Last week I left a twenty-dollar bill sitting in the Wal-Mart self-checkout machine right after I had requested it.  Years back at another school, I walked into the teacher’s lounge and started to eat my lunch, forgetting I had a class sitting in the room, waiting for me. Even in this past week – after years of teaching in this very same time/class schedule – in the middle of teaching I have asked the students to remind me when the class is over.

I am forgetful.

But you know, no matter how many pens I misplace or phone chargers I lose, I always seem to remember to eat lunch.  Or the directions to go home to see my family after school.


Because those things are essential.

Which brings me to a problem I’ve noticed as a teacher.  One of the greatest puzzles to me in these past months is the amnesiac parents and students I’ve run into.

A good example of this is “Vince”.

Just in this past week I was talking to Vince about a very serious spiritual step in his life. I asked him if he considered getting a spiritual mentor at his church.

“Well, I don’t go to church,” he told me.  “People really bother me so I just don’t go.”

Then there’s “Sandra”.

Sandra had come to me for Biblical guidance.  I asked her if her youth group was a help in her growth.

“Well,” she said, “I really don’t have a church that I go to.  My parents haven’t really found a church they like…”

“Oh, so you’re searching?” I asked.

“Yes, you could say that…”  she responded.

“You’ve all been going to different churches each week, kind of ‘testing them out’?” I asked.

“Well… we really haven’t even gone for a while…” Sandra responded.

I asked,” How long since you’ve gone?”

She shrugged.  “Almost two years now…”

Two years?

Two years?

I don’t get this.  Sandra’s family is a Christian family.  The folks are paying tuition for their child to get a Christian education.  They truly want to raise a solid Believer.  Yet Dad and Mom sit home on the weekends and refuse to get spiritual guidance so desperately needed in today’s world.

This is more than forgetting your keys, folks.  This is seriously wrong. I am talking to Christian families:  Getting into a church for spiritual guidance is essential.

And don’t give me the hackneyed line of not liking “organized religion”.  It’s a tired excuse that both you and I know is weak.  We’re talking about forging a family relationship with God, so stop juggling semantics; your children’s spiritual growth is at risk.

Students need to be fed from a spiritual authority and be in submission to God’s teaching – and that’s more than getting it from an old guy like me in a classroom setting.

The Bible backs this up, with the example of the Savior Himself.  Jesus said for spiritual leaders to “tend” (boskō), and that special word is best translated “to feed.”  Families need to be willing to sit under a learned spiritual authority and get spiritually fed – oh, man, have we run into serious Biblical anemia among Christian families due to an unwillingness to be fed!

The proper Bible church has leadership that is committed to shepherding the flock.  The word “shepherd” is poimainō and gives a pretty powerful illustration of the whole package of caring for the congregation’s members, each and every one. The shepherd will not stoop to telling only stories people want to hear (2 Timothy 4:3-4), but will follow the dictates of 2 Timothy 2 in helping his people understand the truth of the word and 2 Timothy 3 in correct living and even training in being righteous.

I had a friend who had to get a rebuilt engine in his car.  Seems he didn’t realize that you had to put oil in the motor.  I am not making this up – he never put oil in his brand new car.  It didn’t seem necessary to him … and the result was that his ignorance led to a disaster on the road.

The same holds true to the families that don’t feel that the sincere and submissive worship of a holy God is necessary.  The lack of worship and teaching is a road leading to disaster.  Just come and talk to me and I can tell you of many students whose Christian lives fell to ruin, mostly due to parents who relegated Godly worship and instruction to an unnecessary bother.

Christian parents and students, you might be absent-minded in some of life’s small things, but you cannot forget the essentials.

If you’ve truly given your life over to Christ and want God to direct your steps every day, why have you conveniently forgotten this important part of the Believer’s life?

Please don’t put all of the responsibility on Room 129.  You’re not being fair.




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