God’s Gift

In the shadow of confusion, disparity of poverty, feasibility of sickness, and the fear of Satan, God is still God is above all, and he awaits us with a gift.

Isaiah the prophet said for us to come to his waters and drink: Ho, every one that thirsteth, come to the waters, and he that hath no money, come, buy, and eat . . . (Isaiah 55: 1).

He is talking about the receiving the gift of God’s spirit through Jesus Christ; and nothing is more important than drinking of the Spirit that gives life and purpose – receiving salvation from sin, and wisdom from heaven.

Consider this gift, for the Bible says: For grace are ye saved through faith and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God (Ephesians 2: 8).

The free gift came upon all men unto justification of life (Romans 5: 17).
All we must do is bow in humble adoration and confess that we are sinners to receive the gift of God’s spirit through Jesus Christ.

May God bless you with the free gift this new season.


Breaking An Addiction

To break an addiction from a bad habit like smoking, drug use, sexual abuse, or idolatry, something must be put in its place,

like the spirit of God almighty who gives life.

That’s the choice: one leads to spiritual darkness and death, the other leads to life.

Two ways, two paths, two destinies.

We are often faced with such a choice in mid-life, and we are warned in Proverbs 10: 29: The way of the Lord is strength to the upright, but destruction shall be to the workers of iniquity.

Once a decision is made, usually from desolation and suffering, humbleness and obedience to God’s will should take place.

Consider the path to life though dark with a forest of troubles – that with God there is hope to find a clearing of peace and sunshine. And why God gave Jesus to lose the sins in the forest upon pious adoration.

The Bible says: But the ones belonging to Christ crucified the flesh with its passions and lusts (Galatians 5: 24; TIB).

With Christ there is hope, but the ways of the world lead to sin, lust, and death (James 1: 15).


Today’s Prayer for Us Victims of Persecution

That ye might walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God; Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and long-suffering with joyfulness; Giving thanks unto the Father, who hath made us fit to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light; Who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son; In whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins.

Colossians 1: 10-14

God’s Sabbath Day of Rest

The fourth command from God in the Old Testament mandates a person rest after six days of work: Six days shalt thou labor and do thy work . . . but the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God; in it thou shalt not do any work . . . (Exodus 20: 9-10).

The Lord blessed the seventh day, but if we entertain selfish pleasures, God will not give us a blessing (Isaiah 58: 13-14).

We are not to speak our own words, pollute the sabbath day, or do any evil (Isaiah 56: 2); nor claim selfish independence –but worship God in the congregation.

Consider this holy God who gives us rest one day a week, but if we have sin in our lives provides Jesus as a Savior and redeemer of sin.

The Bible says: in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace (Ephesians 1: 7).

Consequences of disobeying this fourth commandment are having God turn us over to idols and statutes which are false and lead to big problems. And we certainly don’t want that.

God Solves Arguments

When there is a disagreement with someone, think about some of the scriptures in the Bible that may mitigate the matter.

A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger (Proverbs 15: 1).

How many disputes have been avoided by keeping quiet and being humble – knowing that God will resolve a situation in due time.

But if we don’t know God, we may get caught up in anger and speak defamatory words that we will be sorry for later.

Jesus said, “For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by they words, thou shalt be condemned” (Matthew 12: 37).: condemned in the sense of being judged by the law of God.

So we should make our own lives are right with God before entering into a debate – and know the scriptures or reason for arguing in the first place to save a lot of embarrassment.
And many such arguments are in vain if not glorifying God

In summary, consider the scripture: Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him (Colossians 3: 170.

God’s Laws


(All my devotions are printed weekly in the Loris Scene.)

God’s laws are contained in the first five books of the Holy Bible, the five books also being called Pentateuch, and at the time of the writing, there were no divisions of the books.

Here a person finds God’s legal opinions on nearly any matter — along with penalties, restitution requirements, and responsibilities of each party.

Oh, you won’t find a salesman’s product liability lawsuit here, e.g., but you will find regulations for the harm done to another person – just look at Leviticus 6.

You get the idea. All laws originate from Biblical precepts.

Possibly American Congress Representatives recognized the power and stability of Biblical law when amending the U.S. Constitution and said no law shall be made regarding religion.

The laws have already been made – much to the disparagement of some people.

Consider the value of God’s law in the Psalmist’s prayer of Psalms 119: 113: Thy law do I love.

And we are commanded to teach it to our children in the Book of Deuteronomy.

From a world point of view, results of legal proceedings often fail to satisfy the litigant parties –neither provide spiritual salvation.

This is partly why we have a New Testament from God and God’s Son Jesus who frees us from the law’s shortcomings and grants us personal salvation upon belief and faith (Hebrews 10).


God of Life: Samson’s Mother and Father Spared from Death

There is a familiar story in Judges 13 about a angel of the Lord appearing to a sterile woman and foretelling the birth of her future son Samson — who was be a ruler and judge over Israel and to free the people from Philistine oppression.

But before the woman was blessed to conceive, her and her husband Manoah, were going to offer a sacrifice to the Lord — at which time the angel of the Lord ascended into the heavens – and the man and wife saw God.

“We are doomed to die!” Manoah said. “We have seen God!”; Judges 13: 22.

Consider that God is an awesome God who has power over life and death.

But in this case, a sacrificial offering was accepted by God – the couple gave birth to Samson – they stayed alive, and revenge took place on the Philistines. Samson ruled for 20 years.

Is your offering pleasing to God?

Often there is a fear of death getting in the way of service for God, but now we have Jesus as the sacrifice, with which God is well pleased to call us brethren and live for His glory.

Consider reading the New Testament of the Bible and making sure you have this salvation.


Persecuted But Not Forsaken Book: Chapter 6, The Three Six Program

Chapter 6: Persecuted but not Forsaken (My Life as a MK-ultra Victim)

Mom had sold the house and rented one at a 1536 address. She must have at least thought of me because it was a two bedroom.

God cares about us, even though we can’t always see it, and it has taken me some time to realize this even in the most desolate circumstance.

But the three-six numbers such as the last two digits of this house address would plague my life for the next twenty years.

Phone, personal identification, license plate, access code, golf cart, plane, and hotel room numbers would be designated with a three and six or a combination thereof.

Now, I know this is the devil’s way of tagging people with computer program numbers to stalk, harass, and even kill people, all under guise of some kind of mark of the beast as described in the scriptures. .

Here is wisdom, Let him that hath understanding, count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is six hundred, three score, and sixty-six.

Revelation 13: 18

The MK-ultra program started off with 36,000 victims.

Other victims have also complained about common numbers throughout their lives. .

One female victim in Missouri had been plagued by fours and twos (which un-coincidentally add up to 6). Her phone numbers, residence addresses, and other personal media would consist of fours and twos, even her Social Security Number. Other female victims also complain of the four-two targeting.

This all reminds me of when I got to South Carolina, and I looked at my electric bill only to see the account number ending in three-sixes.

My Social Security numbering adding up to or subtracting to the “six” digit all throughout; the phone number of the house where I would eventually start my own family would be 461-6466, and the address was 6146.

The numerological pattern did not stop: Personal Identification Numbers would be assigned such as 6264.

In the Army, I would be assigned with a “36K20” Military Occupational Specialty number – all products of a system designed to manipulate and control my life by technology.

I thought I’d get ahead of the evil number assigner the last time I went to the Division of Motor Vehicles to get a new license plate for my car by telling the clerk I wanted no sixes in my license number. She said she understood.

The three sixes are tagged to victims to make them identifiable. And my perpetrators usually have 3-6’s on their car license plates. Some of them appear to be unwitting victims, and others have been blackmailed or paid.

The terrorist attack on the New York Trade Towers on 9/11/01 is a component of the three six targeting. The nine upside down is in these sick perpetrators book is a six, but it would be a six if satellite imaging depicts it upside down.

Just look at the numbers in the tragedies that have occurred in the last century – and you will see a pattern of three sixes, whether it be the date, address, plane flight number, number of people victimized, caliber rifle, etc . . . .

Anyway, back to the Florida return trip.

I had not told mom I was in Florida, so I guess she didn’t feel obligated to tell me she had moved.

I walked in the door of the house that morning October of 1970 to greet her, and without looking, she mentioned that breakfast was ready and to have some if I wanted.

Nothing else was said and she went off to work. That’s mom, but the targeting does that.

There was nothing here for me in Norfolk.

But one good thing happened as a result of her moving: now I could go back to Lake Taylor High School. I tried it for awhile, and even went to vocational school for electrical class.

But I was confused and could not concentrate on my studies.

So I decided to join the Merchant Marines. I went downtown to the Custom House and told the man I wanted to join, but they rejected me because of my age.

Then I tried to join the Air Force. I told the man to give me any test and I would pass it, but he also declined saying I was not old enough at 17 to join.

I think both events were manipulated to try and get me to join the Army or Marines and die in Vietnam.

So I walked next door and joined the Army with my mother’s signature on the enlistment form.

I had to do something; I was really unhappy with the high school travel situation, and although I tried working for an electrical contractor after dropping out of school, I just did not have the self-discipline to learn a trade at this point in my life.

Mom questioned my judgment about going in the Army while everyone else was trying to get out of the Armed Services and Vietnam, but I figured the war to be over soon and everything would be okay.

Just after Christmas, 1970, I got on a bus to travel to Richmond, Virginia for orientation and a physical examination.

We recruits were given some fine rooms at the Thomas Jefferson Hotel. And so we decided to party a little. We managed to find a couple older guys to get us some beer. After that we went exploring the hotel, which was magnificently furnished with plush red carpet, stone sculptures, and pictures of colonial America. Chatting with other guys who were facing the same rough odds I was in life was great. I knew I had made the right choice to get away from home!

After a couple days, I and my new friend George, a black fellow from around the Norview area in Norfolk, were off to Fort Campbell, Kentucky for basic training.

Thank God for George, because he got me back to the barracks one evening after a few drinks too many, and he gave me some great advice later in boot camp.

Sitting in a class one afternoon, the instructor informed me I had one of the top three scores after general testing. That 118 point score qualified me to attend Officer Candidate School (118 I know now was just another product of the three sixes).

I was kind of confused on what to do. I’m not a person who likes to sit in the front seat, not that I can’t handle it. But I’d as well be a humble little servant in a mighty castle.

I felt indecisive and looked over at George in the next seat.

Well, what do you think George? I can be an officer.”

Don’t do it, he said.“Those Second Lieutenants are the first ones on the front line in Vietnam.”

Oh. I figured there was a catch.”

The instructor wanted an answer in thirty minutes, and I gave him one in thirty seconds.

Not interested, sir. But thank you very much.”

I know now the offer of OCS was another attempt to get me killed.

It was about six weeks before the drill instructors would let us go off base, and I took advantage of that weekend.

A few of us went into Clarksville Tennessee, had a few drinks and found our way to a movie. It was bitter cold that Saturday evening in February of 1971 as snow was falling and covering the streets of Clarksville. In the motel room, I felt lonelier than ever.

The next morning, I awoke to a foot of snow on the ground.

Across the street was a Baptist Church, so I decided to go. I felt I needed to go to church and was able to talk someone in going with me. The service would give me some confidence about life that I really needed.

Basic training never bothered me. I was always able to run well, endure cold temperatures, and get up early.

Many recruits weren’t so lucky. They’d complain of frostbite on the rifle range, shortness of breath on long hikes, and lack of sleep.

Man. This was much better than living on the streets or a house with no one to help me. I had slept on a park bench on lots of occasions, and sometimes I’d find an old vacant automobile to camp out in for a night.

The only thing bothering me was our instructors deciding our platoon was too fat; so they decided to cut down on breakfast and issue each of us one egg, a piece of bread, and a pancake.

I wasn’t fat. I was only 159 pounds at 6 foot and I needed food. So I would prod the cooks in the mess hall to give me more.

The guy who bunked under me had a heck of a time. He was overweight and sweat would just drip off him even at night. He could barely breath at times it seemed to me. He also had near flat feet and had a difficult time marching. They did finally give him some kind of profile that limited his participation. I would help him out and clean his rifle to keep him from getting in trouble.

But Basic training got my attitude right.

I was marching along one day with my helmet cocked back like I always had it because it took a lot of pressure off my neck, and as any good hard working Asian person will tell you, balancing items is the way to carry them.

The drill instructor didn’t find this philosophy too entertaining, and one day came up behind me and slammed his hand down on my helmet jarring my head.

I told you to get that helmet on right!”

Maybe he had warned me. I couldn’t remember.

Give me twenty trips around the platoon.”

Now that will tire a man out while the platoon is marching.

But I later learned incidents like these are instigated to see if a trainee can take the discipline.

I remember going out to the rifle range for a week or so in the most miserable weather of cold rain mixed with snow.

The visibility was awful with a fog that covered the area as the instructor would have us adjust our rifles for Kentucky wind and Tennessee elevation.

The 300-yard silhouette of a person was barely visible as I remember it to this day – the patches of fog drifting slowly by the target with rain pelting the brim of my hat.

The ground was wet, and after about two hours, all my layers of clothing were soaked, and then water would be drip off my cap into the rifle sight area. I thought if the enemy is out in this kind of weather at such a great distance, it is going to be very difficult to make a direct kill.

I was at an obvious handicap with the M-16 ejecting cartridges off my right cheek scorching my skin. The instructor advised I shoot from the right shoulder. I looked at him like he should go somewhere else and gave him the Indian silent treatment. Lefthanders are marksmen.

Somehow I scored an 86 on the rifle range that miserable day, which were only a few points less than some of the better shooters.

I finished Basic Training in early March and bussed to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, schooling to fulfill field wireman requirements and climb some splintered wood poles

On a humid morning at the pole training grounds, I was descending a thirty-foot pole when my gaff slipped and I came straight down with a robust four-inch splinter in my thigh. It didn’t look near as bad as the fellow next to me who had a big hole in the toe of his boot.

I was taken to the hospital where the doctor pulled the splinter without anesthetic. I had heard the orderly say the supply was depleted.

The nurse had to hold me down, and finally I asked for a rag or something to put in my mouth as I was in much pain. They gave me one.

The next morning at the barracks, I woke up with a swollen red leg from top to bottom. There was still some splinter in there, so back I went to the hospital, where fortunately, there was a doctor there who had a straighter knife and some anesthesia.

I have a jagged scar in that area today, but at least I was given compensation several years after I was discharged from the Army. And of course, my perpetrators would take advantage and put an implant right in that area.

The injury was a blessing in disguise because it kept me back from graduating with my class and going to Vietnam.

I was sent to Ft. Riley, Kansas, where I would stay for the next twenty months with a class of draftees, and I made the best of it while I was there, befriending a guy named Craig, who was from the northwest.

We had a some good times playing racquetball, going to concerts all over the mid-west, and lulling many evenings in the bars around Manhattan, Kansas. We hitchhiked nearly everywhere until I brought my car back from Norfolk one weekend.

The covert drug program I had avoided it so long in my life started to surround me: drugs were everywhere in the Army in 1970 with soldiers bringing back hashish from Germany, heroin from Vietnam, and marijuana from Mexico. But I maintained my integrity and used very little.

My buddy’s military term of service expired before mine, and when he left, I became rather depressed. We had done so much together. And now the Army ordered me to Korea,

I did not want to go and did everything I could to try and get reassigned to Stateside duty my last year. I visited Ft. Story near home trying to get a transfer but no one would be in the office when I got there.

Nothing worked, and in December of 1972 I found myself on an airplane after visiting a friend in Los Altos leaving Travis Air Force Base in Oakland California stopping over in Japan for fuel and going to Korea.

When I arrived and bunked up for the night at Camp Casey, I got terribly sick. I don’t know if it was from some partying I did with friends in Los Altos, California or from something I ate or drink after entering Korea. I vomited much and thought it was the end for me, one of the sickest moments of my life.

Somehow I got on the back of a five-ton truck in the early morning hours that was transporting a bunch of us to Camp Pelham near the Demilitarized Zone on a freezing night just before Christmas — and I had ice on my pile cap. It was very cold.

The next day I hired a houseboy to take care of making my bed, cleaning my clothes, and shining my shoes.

Settling into the bunk next to the potbelly diesel filled stove probably wasn’t the best idea because it blew up on a chilly night and everyone had to go outside. Such is life in Korea.

Mornings were spent in the communication’s shop trying to keep warm but occasionally we would venture out during the day and check out the wiring on the telephone poles. Eventually I would be assigned to change it out with a group of mixed Republic of Korean and American soldiers.

It was a futile effort and I decided to look for another job. And I’m not sure how I talked myself into getting the courier’s job but it was the best thing that ever happened.

I now had my own jeep and would travel the country picking up and delivering classified information over the northern part of South Korea.

I suppose my perpetrators had me where they wanted me: having access to classified information. But I never had any intention of looking at what I was carrying. For one thing, items were sealed, and they didn’t interest me. I was just glad to have a decent job away from the ROK soldiers who had excess kimchi on their breath and didn’t want to take orders.

Off I would take every morning, stopping at several camps on the way to headquarters at Camp Casey. Then I would grab the latest edition of the Stars and Stripes newspaper, a cup of coffee, some doughnuts, and I’d lull around a couple hours at Camp Casey and head on back.

Just before arriving back at the compound, I’d drive the jeep through ankle deep river to wash off the mud. The Army never complained about how it was done, but the Koreans downstream weren’t too thrilled because I was disturbing the water they were washing clothes in.

I didn’t think they were sensitive about things in life considering they were hanging dogs and setting fire to them to get them prepared for dinner. But their cheesy looks usually told the story.

I would at this time thank a North Carolina native named Wallace who was a mechanic at the motor pool for gassing up my jeep: it was the fastest in the fleet.

Korea wasn’t all bad. I met the most wonderful woman of my life there and I would stay with her every chance possible. We travelled to many places; exploring the country and looking for ginseng; going to Seoul for dining and lodging, and to Musan where there was a theatre.

It was hard to go wrong at that time when the train ride was eighty cents and the movie was twenty cents. And I wish I could have brought her back but I didn’t have enough money for her plane fare.

After seven months in Korea, the Army offered me a promotion to Sergeant if I would re-enlist for six years. I turned it down. I wanted to go home.

. My perpetrators didn’t like this and I was given extra duty picking up rocks out of ditches in the evening hours. Their excuse was that I talked back to an alcoholic Sergeant.

Why was it such a big deal that I did not re-enlist? But this is what is targeted individuals go through when these administrators of hate have access to manipulating events with their high-tech remote sensing applications.

In a normal world, no one would care, but in a targeted world, situations are manipulated around the victim for defamation, oppression, and servitude.

I would be confined to the Compound for two weeks, and I sure missed my girlfriend during those two weeks. I would look through the barbed wire fence across the creek to the village where her hooch was each night.

Staying at camp was miserable, so a friend Darren and I would go over to the club and began drinking those mixed alcoholic drinks at 25 cents a pour until 2:00 in the morning and stagger back to the hooch — only to hear the camp cannon fire three times twenty minutes later — which means to get dressed for battle and attend a formation.

Man, I was sick, and I spent a considerable time throwing up my drinks on the side of the road as I was driving the First Lieutenant. That was a long day.

And then race relations deteriorated at the camp, and one night there was a big riot where lots of soldiers were getting hurt.

My flying time couldn’t be soon enough, because the officers thought the troops needed a twenty-five mile march to quiet them down, and there we went with full battle gear up into the hills for an overnight march.

Some guys couldn’t make it, and I begged for the medic to take my buddy back to camp in a vehicle after he told me his brother died from such a march.

And they did take Darren back to camp. As a result, I was detailed to guard duty on the perimeter at 3: 00 a.m. I suppose for speaking up. A very lonely fox hole on a moonless night at the North Korea border.

I was determined to get out of Korea any way possible. A clerk at Camp Casey answered my prayers and asked me where I wanted to go.

Home! Anywhere near home in Virginia.”

How about Fort Belvoir,” he asked.

That sounds good,” I responded.

But what’s there?”

A bricklaying class.”


On my next trip to Camp Casey, he had the orders signed for an early two month exit from Korea. I was ecstatic.

Finally it came time for me to exit the country in October of 1973 and I had to travel from Camp Pelham to Camp Casey to catch the plane. It was about thirty miles south.

I thought I might stay with my girlfriend the night prior and leave from there early in the morning; however about 4:00 a.m., I heard the Camp cannon again fire three times—which meant to fall into group formation with full battle gear.

Now just how coincidental is that? It’s not. It was just another attempt to try and delay me from leaving the country – for whatever reason. (Back home my mother’s targeting would begin in earnest.)

There was no way I was going back to the Camp Pelham compound. I had my duffle bag packed with me. I hung out a few more hours with my girl, made more love, and said goodbye — got a cab, and took the back roads to Camp Casey — where I was immediately apprehended and taken to jail.

No problem. I knew all the officers at Camp Pelham from transporting them around all year and their secret documents. So, they wouldn’t come get me, and in a couple days I was on the plane heading to my next stop, Fort Belvoir. Bye. I heard later that my girlfriend went to the airport to check on me and waving as the plane flew off, and it just broke my heart, as I read her letter.

Project Transition was a program designed to give veterans job training to prepare them for civilian work upon leaving the Armed Forces. I was taking advantage of it.

I would hitch-hike home on weekends to see Mom and Kitty.

The perpetrators had been busy back in my hometown!

Mom had moved to that apartment near the beach.

She loved the beach, and it would only be a two block walk to go swimming and sun bathing.

If only she wouldn’t have started dating a doctor twenty years her senior from the eastern shore of Maryland!

Who is he and what does he want?


90 Minutes in Heaven or Something Else?

I just got through reading an account of Don Piper’s book 90 minutes in Heaven — about him in a vehicle accident and severely injured and seeing heaven.

I haven’t finished the whole book, just the account of heaven’s description.

I’ve been to heaven, right during my conversion to Christ, and I haven’t seen nothing like Don Piper, but then, I’m an Mk-ultra victim, and I got just a little different opinion.

Now I’m not criticizing Piper here but name synomization (Piper) is taking place here and very well goes along with the targeting aspect of hearing music. That’s point No. 1.

No. 2 is that nearly all ti’s (and I surmise that Mr. Piper’s accident was programmed since he was going to begin a new church and a prison bus hit him on a bridge on a route not normally used) understand the air is full of musical electromagnetic frequencies to the voice boxes of humans for mind control by the perpetrators.

Number 3 is that Babylon was full of music. And her trumpeters, flute players, etc . . . were cast down (Revelation 18: 21-22).

Revelation 19: gives us a good description of heavenly aura.

Number 4: Well, sure there’s praise in heaven but not so much in a worldly language.

No, brethren, this is holy land.

Number 5: Us ti’s know the devil can make holograms affecting humans to make them think they are seeing something real when it’s not.

This accident of Mr. Piper, in my opinion, was a programmed event to stop him from starting a church, hinder the spread of the gospel, and continue the spread of induced sacrificial offerings by the devil in a world corrupted by radiological pollution.

I’m sorry for Don Piper and his accident; instances like these are common.

Many of us have been assaulted for years just trying to get the truth out about radio illegal programming in the environment.

I hope Mr. Piper joins the fight against mind control targeting and induced human sacrifice because this world epidemic must be stopped.



Preachers: Preach the Word!


I went to a  Baptist church revival service and heard everything but the word of God, which prompted me to write this message and what preachers are supposed to do.

Consider that Ezra opened the book and read the law to the people (Nehemiah 8).

Jesus opened the book and read Isaiah to the people (Luke 4: 17).

Moses had done the same thing: opened the book of the law and read it to the people (Deuteronomy 4).

But the preachers nowadays hardly ever preach or teach from the Bible though they are ordained to do it.

The Bible doesn’t say talk about personal life (2 Corinthians 4: 5), sports, money, or tell a joke — there are plenty of times to talk about those subjects outside of God’s reverential house.

God’s word is a reminder of the freedom we have in America, a reminder that God’s laws and mercies pave the way for prosperous lives.

Jesus preached the word (Mark 2: 2). Consider also that Jesus only used parables when teaching his disciples (Mark 4: 34).

This is not difficult: simply transition the message from a worldly explanation to the spiritual side. Possibly something like: the apple, which grows on a tree, slowly receives nutrients from its branch and the sun, and we receive God’s word with patience to become mature and produce goodness.

A preacher should do his homework, consult lexicons, expositories, dictionaries, archaeological and historical facts, and maybe find some relevant quotations from biblical scholars, and apply the message to our lives. Pray about the subject.

Jesus said to teach the people by parables of the world, so unbelievers can understand].

And preach the kingdom of God (Luke 9: 60).

The tenets for preaching according to Jesus are listed in Luke 4: 18: preach the gospel to the poor, heal the brokenhearted, preach deliverance to the captives, recovering of sight to the blind, and to set at liberty those are bruised.

I was raised in a Presbyterian Church where the word was exonerated and studied and I miss it.