Do you know just how precious it is to speak in tongues when you pray?

Grow in gratitude for your God-given guardians.

What is the lifestyle of a full-time servant of God?

“Love is patient…” — 1 Corinthians 13:4 When I was young, to me, miracles meant parting of the seas or blind eyes blinking open. Now? I’m convinced the bigger miracle might be waiting calmly while your child tries to wear their own shoes “all by myself,” for the 12th time this week . You sit there, watching them trying to slip the shoe on and tie the laces, determined to “do it right.” You’re already late. The taxi is waiting. And yet, somehow, you don’t explode. You breathe. You smile. And in that moment, you realize: this is a lesson in love. Because love, real love, isn’t proven in dramatic declarations. It’s revealed in the tiny, invisible decision to wait when it would be easier to rush . Paul could’ve started his poetic list of love’s qualities with something grand, like “Love is powerful” or “Love performs miracles.” But he didn’t. He started with this: “Love is patient.” Not glamorous. Not tweetable. Just… patient. Why? Because love that’s not patient isn’t love—it’s preference . It’s “I’ll love you when it’s convenient. When you’re polite. When you are obedient. ” But real love? Real love stands in line at the polyclinic and still blesses the nurse with a smile. Real love listens to the same story told by your grandmother, again and again, and reacts like it’s the first time. Real love holds the hand of a friend who’s healing slower than you expected. I once saw a mother, at the end of a long work day, bringing home her son from the caretaker, stopping at a playground trying to leave. “Come on, son,” she said. “We’ve got to go.” But the toddler had apparently has to try every playground activity at every playground in their 1 km walk home. The mother waited. And waited. No yelling. No threats. Just patient presence.  And when they got to the next playground, the toddler went charging to the playground.  And she waited again. And I thought: That must be what God does. Right there. In the playground. In the waiting. God’s love is never in a hurry, even when we’re limping through life. He’s not tapping His foot in heaven, arms crossed. No! He’s patient with the broken, the stubborn, the procrastinators (ahem, that’s me). If God is patient with us, shouldn’t we be a little more patient with each other? Patience is not laziness. It’s love choosing not to rush things. It’s what holds a mom together when the baby won’t sleep. It’s what keeps a caregiver gentle after 87 repeated questions. It’s what allows us to say, “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” Patience doesn’t mean we never feel frustrated. It means we choose not to let frustration win. You may never raise the dead or feed five thousand with your “cai fan”. But if today you offer patience when it’s easier to snap, you’re living out a miracle—one slow breath at a time. Next time someone tests your limit - your spouse, your child, the customer who still doesn’t understand how to use their phone to make an order - whisper this under your breath: “Love is patient.  And so am I.  With God's help. Probably.”

Many Christians observe Sunday worship today. Is the Bible's command to keep the Sabbath on Saturday still relevant?

The whispers of envy for the gifts others have are more common than we care to admit. We admire someone’s eloquence or melodious voice, while secretly doubting if ours matters. But comparison blinds us to the gifts God has placed within us and dims our willingness to serve. Praise the Heartbeat, Not Just the Smile We often praise what catches the eye, quick to pay compliments to someone’s smile or applaud their commanding presence. But when was the last time someone praised you for healthy arteries or how steady the rhythm of your heartbeat is? These unseen parts are what keep everything going. Yet, we rarely pay them any attention until something goes wrong. The same is true in church. Some roles may not draw applause, but if we were to remove one, the whole body feels it.  Not every gift is the same, nor should it be Our gifts vary purposefully and are intentionally apportioned (1 Cor 12:11) for us to fulfil a role in Christ’s body that no one else can. We are like brushstrokes in God’s painting. Some bold, others subtle. Some define the scene, others fill the gaps. On their own, a single stroke may seem small, but without it, the masterpiece is incomplete. We are called to be faithful stewards with what we’ve been given. Whether our gift is to encourage, to serve, to give, to teach, to lead, or to show mercy, let us offer it joyfully (Rom 12:6-8).  I brought store-bought ice cream to a potluck long ago. Surrounded by meticulously prepared home-cooked meals, I felt like my contribution did not measure up. But as smiles accompanied their second helpings, I realised my contribution had more worth than I gave it credit for. No single dish makes a feast, just as no single member builds the church. In the same way, it’s the chorus of all our offerings that makes the body complete (Rom 12:4-5). What may seem insignificant to you could be the very thing that strengthens someone else. And in turn, we too are uplifted by what others bring. Because together, we form a whole. May we learn to treasure not just the visible, but the faithful, for the parts of the body that seem weaker are indispensable (1 Cor 12:22). We are not meant to have every gift, nor strive for more. God designed us to be interdependent. Thus, submit to Him by using our gift faithfully, and celebrate others in theirs. Use It, Don’t Flaunt It.  While we are called to use our gifts in servitude, we must also guard against the temptation to use these gifts as a pedestal for prominence or self-glorification. We did not earn our gift, nor do we have to prove worthy of it. But it is given to us for one reason, so that we can serve (1 Peter 4:10). As 1 Corinthians 12:7 reminds us, the manifestation of the Spirit is for the common good. Let us not bury our gifts in fear or comfort, lest we be found unfaithful (Matt 25:26-30). For just as God gives, He can take away. Every Dish Counts When Feeding a Family When we gather every Sabbath, it is like a spiritual potluck of grace. Bring your portion to the table with joy. Because when every gift is in motion, the church becomes a unified, radiant body. And through it all, God will be glorified (Ephesians 4:16).