Beyond Sunday

“Sunday comes”

Sunday comes, the troops march in,
they sit in the same old places
They go through the motions
all are pleasant but fewer of the same old faces.

Rise! Rise! comes the whisper from inside,
“How few are listening to the word dear?”
“Lets chat about sport, about fun, about weather,
heck anything but God’s shed a tear”

The same old routines, symbols lost in their meaning,
responses that not all will know.
Then off they go, and chill for the week,
is this faith just all for the show?

Rise! Rise! comes the sound from behind
“Perhaps there was something we missed?”
“Don’t be silly it’s Britain,the wind was a gust
It was whooshing and then it just hissed”

Next week the same old, but a little less folk,
some new comers scratch their head,
a phone vibrates, some turn and tut
Something about our life we must shed!

Rise! Rise! comes the shout from above
“Do you feel like we need to sorta ask?”
“Are you mad, it’s Sunday, we’ve got our clubs to attend,
besides when else are you going to mow the grass?”

“We’ve done it before, comes the cry” , no one seems to care,
Just slowly shrinking behind each pew,
until fewer and fewer of our spirits remain,
and then wondering why we’re only a few.

I’m here! I’m back! Let’s look at our Kingdom
Let’s look at the fruit you have grown

Oh it’s all died,

in the shade

with no sun

and no rain,

what was up?……

was you all afraid?

Doubt hit’s us all hard at the most inappropriate times. When we really need to be rushing forward into battle with the Spirit to back us up, we sit and stare at emails and waste time after time until there is less and less of each of us each day. We have been designed as “planet shakers”, “Earth-equipers”, “secret agents of God”, all on a mission to make disciples and plant new seeds of God but how often the devil seems to win many over to;

“I can’t do that!” or perhaps “Perhaps God didn’t ask me to lead”.

How often we listen to men who say “you can’t do that” or “that wasn’t God it was all in your head”.

Wake up there is a field to plough, and it is ripe and ready.

Have courage,


March onwards