It's the rainy season. Afternoon convectional rains are common. I was watching one the other day. The house electricity had tripped. It does whenever fierce thunder rolls and lightning strikes. "The skies must be angry," I tell myself, jokingly. But seriously, the dark moods of the weather gives me the premonition that the second coming of Christ is imminent. That shakes me. I'm just not ready for Him!
Lord, heaven is a wonderful place
A nirvana where the streets are paved with gold
Where sadness and sickness are unheard of
Where everyone is filled with joy and peace
A second Garden of Eden
Where we can talk and walk with you
So, why am I not ready to make the step to cross over?
Cos a dead person cannot praise you
Cos I'm waiting for You to use me
Cos there are scores to be settled
Cos evil has to be overcome
Not with weapons, nor with words
But with the prayer of power
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