Typical Sunday Morning

The reason I like my church is that the people come from all walks of life. There are whites, blacks, asians, sick people, weird people (I'm in this category) and all kinds of people. You don't have to come in and say, "Am I the only one that has (fill in the blank)?" You aren't, whatever you are suffering from, or whatever that is bothering you, someone has been there and is conquering that. And by standing strong, you can help the others who are facing what you have conquered.

When I walked in to church today, the place was packed. There was nowhere to sit. I ended up sitting on the side--out of my comfort zone. Today in church a Christian Rapper came in named BBJ (I think that was his name). He was really powerful and I could see how effective he would be in reaching out to the youth of today. After he sat down, a young man was introduced by the pastor. This young man started of his story by saying he was born in a mental hospital. Both his parents were diagnosed schizophrenics. Their diseases were so bad that they were both institutionalized. Medically, that should only happen if the person has the potential to harm him or herself or others. These people were sick. The parents, one black and one white, met in the mental hospital. They had a child there. This child was now standing on the podium talking to us. He told us that they were planning to abort him. They wanted to end his life, because schizophrenia is hereditary, the likelihood increases especially if both parents have the disease. (Also, I can imagine that many of the drugs being taken would be harmful to the fetus). Fast forward to the young boy in college, he had grown up with his grandmother's care, and in the Lord. He was sitting in a college cafeteria when all of sudden...he started having thoughts of paranoia and bombs going off, and all kinds of ideas common to schizophrenics. He had to battle, spiritually, and had lots of prayer and God has healed him. He stopped having all the attacks. Here was a young man, with all kinds of strikes against him--mixed race, genetic illness, no one wanted him--they wanted to abort him! Yet, here he was, full of Jesus, a living walking testimony of what Christ can do in a person's life. If he had committed suicide, got involved with drugs, or whatever, no one would have blamed him. But God turned his life around. You may not believe in God, but you don't have to believe like he had to.

I can't believe I complain about the "major" things in my life. My life is a bed of roses. Thank you Jesus for that! It really is, my life is great, wonderful, I have it way too good!

There was an annointing of the Holy Spirit in the church and on the people. I still feel it right now. And I am one of those skeptics....:-)

It was not a typical Sunday morning.