Its very peaceful here this morning. A the sun rose I could here the Muslim call to prayer, a few birds chirping and a light breeze ripling through the trees. But soon the city will come alive in a sense, filled with cars and trucks and countless motorbikes, people going here and there. Are they really alive though? If their lives have no eternal purpose, only the banal routine of existing day after day, can we really call that life? What does that mean for us? Whether in opulence or poverty, we are all the same. Either, we are breathing and bleeding, or we stop bleeding and breathing. But outside of Christ there isn’t really all that much difference between the two. The only life that matters is in Him.
Sunrise in Jakarta
