Right now on the other side of the world, members of my family and friends are waking up to Sunday.
There will be those who will attend church and take time out to reflect on a God they know who loves and cares for them. They will count their blessings as they look upon the faces of their children or into the eyes of a spouse who has travelled this life with them.
It was a wonder-filled day when I came to realise that God exists and that He has me in the palm of His hands for eternity. I know that I know He is real and that’s just a part of me now 26 years later.
His words, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you’, stay with me and I believe them to be true no matter how dark, dirty and dangerous this world gets.
I don’t need a church building to worship Him so it doesn’t matter to me that there are none in Saudi Arabia.
Neither do I mind that the Bible is not to be found here-I have reams of it in my head and I remember all the songs we sang in worship.
You won’t find me proselytising in the local streets, I know someone who is a far better Fisherman than me.
This post is dedicated to journalist Andrew Bolt whose blog I follow. He writes from the heart and doesn’t give a stuff whether his view is popular or not. I recently read that, at 50 he still hadn’t decided whether God exists or not and it just made me feel sad.
Sad that he hadn’t made up his mind yet.
Here’s a song that was playing at the time Wallace and I made up our minds back in 1984.