Reservoirs, Civilizations, and the Church’s Mission


Long before our highways and reservoirs, there was the Indus Valley Civilization — one of the world’s earliest advanced societies. They thrived between 5,000 and 3,500 years ago in what is now Pakistan and northwest India. Their cities were marvels of planning: paved streets, sewage systems, irrigation channels, and cisterns that stored precious water. For centuries they flourished, but when the rains ceased and the inflow slowed, their reservoirs and rivers could no longer sustain them. Over time, the people dispersed, their great cities abandoned, undone not by war but by drought.


That history came to mind as I drove past the Oneida Valley Reservoir this week. Through the windshield I saw the shallow waterline, the exposed banks, the tired look of a system running on yesterday’s supply. And I thought of the church in our time.

The people gather as the season of Hope, Joy, Love, and Light approaches. They light candles, sing carols, and preach sermons. Yet many hearts are heavy, struggling to believe tomorrow will be brighter. Joy is thin, divisions are common, and Love is misplaced — poured into the institution or the season rather than the Lord Himself. The Light flickers, but shadows linger.

The watchman cries out with the words of Jeremiah:“My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water” (Jeremiah 2:13).Do you not see? Our reservoir cannot survive on yesterday’s water. Hope cannot be sustained by slogans, Joy cannot be manufactured by programs, Love cannot be replaced by sentiment, and Light cannot shine without Christ Himself. We need fresh inflow — daily bread, living water, the Spirit poured anew — or our reservoir will run dry.

Even now, homes affected by low water levels are advised to reduce usage. Conservation helps, but it cannot restore the reservoir. The only way the water rises again is for the heavens to open and pour down refreshing rain. We can preserve all we want, but without a fresh inflow, the supply will eventually dry up.

Barna’s research confirms the warning. The number of religious “nones” — those with no faith affiliation — has climbed steadily, now representing nearly a quarter of U.S. adults. It is the sign of an organization failing its primary mission: to bring living water to a thirsty world. And when our own supply is uncertain, when we are in survival mode, our ability to offer even a drink of cold water to “the least of these” (Matthew 10:42) is greatly affected. A reservoir that has been dammed up for years cannot refresh others; its shallow waters leave both the church and the world parched.

Yet the promise remains: “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me… out of his heart will flow rivers of living water” (John 7:37–38). Christ is the Living Water. His Spirit is the inflow that renews Hope, restores Joy, rekindles Love, and shines Light into the darkness. And the truth is simple enough to remember as you drive past shallow waters or flickering lights:

Know Jesus, know peace. No Jesus, no peace.

A Proclamation for Advent


The Herald’s Proclamation

We are not entertainers, nor seasonal well-wishers. We are heralds of the Most High, entrusted with a royal decree that cannot be diluted or deferred. The gospel we proclaim is not a cultural tradition, nor a sentimental greeting—it is the eternal announcement of victory through Jesus Christ.

We declare that:

Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.

He was buried, and He rose again on the third day.

He ascended in triumph and will return in glory.

This is the good news—the power of God unto salvation for all who believe. It is the message entrusted to us, the trumpet blast that awakens the nations, the light that pierces the darkness.

We are commanded to preach repentance and forgiveness of sins in His name to all nations. We are charged to make disciples, baptize, and teach obedience to His Word. We are sent as witnesses, empowered by the Spirit, to proclaim liberty to the captives and sight to the blind.

We do not gather to flatter Him with birthday wishes, as though He were a man bound by time. We gather to proclaim Him as the eternal Son, the risen Lord, the reigning King.

Final Charge

Preach the gospel—not wish Him a happy birthday.

A Reflection on Thanksgiving


🍂 A Thanksgiving Reflection 🍂

Now that the turkey has been carved and the last slice of pie has been served, let’s pause together and remember the blessings we’ve enjoyed this past year.

I want to take a moment to thank each of you—my faithful readers and supporters—for walking this journey with me. Your encouragement, your comments, and simply your presence here have been a gift I don’t take lightly.

Thanksgiving is more than a holiday; it’s a reminder that gratitude turns ordinary days into extraordinary ones. As we look back on the year behind us, may we carry forward hearts full of thankfulness, and may we look ahead with hope and prayer for continued blessings in the year to come.

From my heart to yours: may peace, joy, and abundance overflow in your homes and lives.

Happy Thanksgiving, dear friends. 🦃✨

🕊 Thanksgiving: Consecration, Not Consumption


A call to remember Plymouth Rock, Bradford’s lesson, and the biblical mandate of gratitude.



🌾 The Forgotten Feast

Thanksgiving in America has become a spectacle of excess—oversized turkeys, crowded tables, and competitive pie-making. But the original feast at Plymouth Rock was not about indulgence. It was about survival. It was about consecration.

In November 1620, the Pilgrims arrived in New England battered by storms and burdened by hope. They landed late in the season, with little time to prepare for winter. Disease, exposure, and starvation swept through the colony. By spring, nearly half had perished.

Their early experiment in communal living—mandated by their charter—required shared labor and shared harvest. It was a form of enforced equality. But instead of unity, it bred resentment and idleness. Governor William Bradford recorded that this system “was found to breed much confusion and discontent.” Young men balked at laboring for others’ families without reward. Productivity collapsed. Hunger deepened.

In 1623, Bradford made a bold change. He divided the land into private plots, allowing each family to plant and reap for themselves. The results were immediate. “This had very good success,” he wrote, “for it made all hands very industrious.” The colony flourished. The harvest came. And the Pilgrims gave thanks—not for abundance, but for survival.

📖 Scripture’s Model for Gratitude

The Pilgrims’ story echoes timeless biblical truths:

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

“Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread.” (Proverbs 12:11)

“Whatever one sows, that will he also reap.” (Galatians 6:7)

“If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.” (2 Thessalonians 3:10)

And perhaps most fitting of all:

“Better a handful with contentment than abundance with strife.” (Ecclesiastes 4:6)

This verse pierces through the noise of modern Thanksgiving. It reminds us that peace and gratitude in simplicity are far richer than anxiety in excess.

️ A Warning for Our Time

Today, we see an ever-expanding version of Bradford’s failed experiment. Promises of equality without responsibility have produced not abundance but poverty. Dependency has replaced diligence. Complaints about the cost of a Thanksgiving meal drown out gratitude for the little we have.

History warns us: when government replaces God as provider, bondage follows. When entitlement replaces stewardship, harvests shrink. When gratitude is lost, pride takes root.

The Pilgrims endured loss, yet they gave thanks. We endure abundance, yet we complain. This is the danger of complacency: forgetting the heights from which we have fallen.

🔔 A Pastoral Admonition

Beloved, Thanksgiving is not about who can host the biggest feast, carve the largest turkey, or bake the most pies. It is about a heart that has found contentment in what the Lord has provided. It is about gratitude in little or much.

Let us return Thanksgiving to its rightful place:

A daily rhythm of gratitude, morning and evening.

A national remembrance that every breath is mercy.

A consecrated altar where families pause to pray, repent, and give thanks for another year of life.

Let the Church lead the way. Let us honor God above government, stewardship above entitlement, and gratitude above complaint. For when we return to Him in thanksgiving, we will find not only provision for today but the promise of abundance in eternity.

“Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” (Revelation 19:9)

Now that’s a Thanksgiving meal I pray I get invited to!

Unmasking the Masquerade: Testing the Spirits in an Age of Digital Deception


In recent weeks, headlines have sounded an alarm across the digital landscape. Popular accounts on X were once thought to be American voices of patriotism. However, these were actually foreign operations disguised as frontline journalism. Behind the avatars of stars and stripes were individuals posting from Turkey. Others were posting from Nigeria, Eastern Europe, and beyond. These individuals hid behind the fiery rhetoric of “citizen journalists” and “grassroots patriots.” Their goal was not dialogue but division—sowing discord, amplifying outrage, and spreading lies under the guise of neighborly concern.

The exposure of these masqueraders is more than a digital scandal; it is a prophetic signal. Scripture warned long ago that “certain individuals have secretly slipped in among you… ungodly people, who pervert the grace of our God” (Jude 4). What Jude described in the first century now plays out in real time across our social feeds. Wolves in sheep’s clothing have traded pulpits for platforms, but the strategy remains unchanged: infiltrate, deceive, and divide.

This moment calls for vigilance. John’s exhortation rings louder than ever: “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1). The Bereans modeled this discernment, examining the Scriptures daily to confirm truth (Acts 17:11). In our age, the same diligence must be applied—not only to sermons but to headlines, viral posts, and trending hashtags. Outrage is the bait; deception is the hook.

The danger is not merely foreign influence but spiritual intoxication. Peter’s warning is urgent: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). Emotional reactions—anger, fear, tribal loyalty—are the fuel of deception. To be sober-minded is to resist the intoxication of outrage. It means walking in clarity and peace even when the digital storm rages. Paul echoes this call in 2 Corinthians 11:14, reminding us that “Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.” The masquerade is not new; only the costumes have changed.

The Prophetic Parallel

Consider the prophetic parallel: these foreign-run accounts cloaked themselves in patriotism or compassion. Their origin was foreign and their intent was division. They did not seek mere popularity or digital influence. Their purpose was to inject falsehood into the public square. They pretended to be legitimate voices concerned for our welfare. It is sinister and evil. They speak the language of their father—the devil—who is the father of lies (John 8:44). Just as Satan disguises himself as an angel of light, these voices masquerade as patriots. They pose as journalists or neighbors, but their words are poisoned. The saints must be vigilant. They should store up truth that cannot be corrupted. They must refuse to be swayed by the counterfeit compassion of deceivers.

And so the Word presses us further: “Look to yourselves, that you do not lose those things we worked for, but that you may receive a full reward” (2 John 1:8). The danger is not only being misled by false voices, but losing the very testimony and inheritance we have been entrusted with. Vigilance is not optional—it is the safeguard of salvation’s reward.

The watchman’s task is unchanged. Ezekiel 33 describes the watchman who sees danger and sounds the alarm. Today, the danger is digital infiltration, and the alarm is discernment. The church must not be naïve. Many false prophets have gone out into the world, and many false voices have gone online into our feeds. The masquerade has been unmasked, but the masquerade itself continues. The saints must be vigilant, discerning, Berean, and sober-minded.

Yes, Elon Musk’s “unmask” feature on X has exposed many false profiles, but the greater unmasker is the Holy Spirit. “When He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all truth” (John 16:13). The Spirit is our safeguard, our discerner, and our guide. Jesus Himself declared: “My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me” (John 10:27). The best defense against deception is not technology, but obedience to the Shepherd’s voice.


✒️ Closing Admonition

Take heed, little flock. Many voices seek to ensnare, but you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. The Shepherd’s voice is clear, and His sheep will obey no other.


Tagline

“Let God be true, and every man a liar” (Romans 3:4).