Welcome back to Pomoja Podcast, a ministry of
Life of Christ International Ministries. Pomoja
means together, and that's exactly what this
space is about. The place where stronger lives
are built, faith is strengthened, hearts are
encouraged, and Christ -centered homes are shaped
through ordinary conversations. They become extraordinary
encounters with God's truth. One conversation,
one story, one revelation at a time. Thank you
for joining me for another powerful conversation.
During our first conversation, I shared a story
my father told me before I got married. At the
time, I thought it was simply a beautiful story.
A father sharing his wisdom with his son. I listened
carefully. I respected every word. But if I'm
completely honest with you, I didn't truly understand
it. Not because I wasn't listening. Not because
my father wasn't clear. But because some truths
cannot be understood simply by hearing them.
They must be lived. Some lessons aren't learned
in a classroom. They're learned in the ordinary
moments of life. They are learned through victories,
through disappointments, through forgiveness,
through patience, through tears, through prayers,
and through the quiet faithfulness that only
time can produce. Today, almost 20 years later,
I can finally say, I understand what my father
was trying to teach me, not because I'm a marriage
expert, far from it, but because nearly 20 years
of marriage have slowly revealed the meaning
of a story that, at first, seemed so simple.
Life became my teacher, marriage became my classroom,
and time became the interpreter of my father's
story. Looking back, I smile, because now I realize
he wasn't merely giving me advice. He was giving
me a picture, a picture that would unfold one
year at a time. So today, I'd like to continue
that story. Because my father wasn't finished,
he said, imagine a man walking through a forest.
As he walks, something catches his attention.
In the distance, he sees a magnificent house,
beautiful, peaceful, almost hidden among the
trees. the kind of house that immediately captures
your attention. As he gets closer, he notices
something even more beautiful. Through the windows,
he sees a husband and wife. They're talking,
laughing together, enjoying each other's company.
There is peace in that house. There is joy. There
is love. Naturally, he becomes curious. What
makes this place so different? The couple notices
him. They smile. They welcome him inside, without
hesitation. He steps through the door. The house
is beautiful, peaceful, carefully arranged. Everything
feels inviting. Then, the door quietly closes
behind him. Almost immediately, he notices something
unusual. Actually, three things. The first thing
he notices is the heat. Not ordinary warmth.
Real heat. The kind of heat that makes you instinctively
look for fresh air. He begins feeling uncomfortable.
His first thought is simple. I'll step outside
for a moment. So he turns around, walks back
to the door, grabs the handle, turns it. Nothing.
He tries again. Still nothing. That's when he
realizes the door only opens. from the outside.
Now confusion begins replacing curiosity. His
heart beats a little faster, so he looks toward
the windows. Surely, one of them must open. He
walks from one window to another, one after another.
Every window is sealed shut. No fresh air, no
alternative exit, no escape. What moments earlier
looked like a peaceful home, now feels almost
like an escape room. Except, this isn't a game.
He's trapped. He turns toward the couple again.
They're smiling, talking, laughing together,
completely at peace, as though nothing is wrong.
Meanwhile, his mind is filled with questions.
How can they be so happy? Don't they feel the
heat? Why don't they seem uncomfortable? If they
wanted to leave, how would they? I remember hearing
this story from my father and asking myself those
exact same questions. What kind of house is this?
It didn't make sense. Not then. But today, after
nearly 20 years of marriage, I understand why
he told the story this way. And perhaps you've
already begun asking the same questions. If you
have, then you're exactly where my father wanted
me to be. Because every great lesson begins with
a question, and every lasting revelation begins
with a picture. As I look back today, I realize
something. My father wasn't simply preparing
me for marriage. He was preparing me for the
journey of becoming a husband. There is a difference.
You can prepare for a wedding in a few months.
But becoming a husband takes years, sometimes
a lifetime. I also realize he didn't choose a
lecture, he chose a story. Because stories have
a way of staying with us long after words are
forgotten. I carried that story into my marriage.
There were moments when I remembered it, moments
when I questioned it, and moments when I finally
understood it. Not all at once. One season at
a time. One challenge at a time. One lesson at
a time. Then one day, I realized something beautiful.
The house hadn't changed. The story hadn't changed.
I had changed. Marriage had changed me. God had
changed me. And suddenly, what once seemed like
a mystery began to make perfect sense. Perhaps
that's where some of you are today. Maybe there
are things God has spoken over your life that
still don't make sense. Promises, prayers, scriptures,
conversations, seeds that were planted years
ago. Don't be discouraged. If you don't understand
everything today, some revelations can only be
understood after you've walked with God for a
while. God rarely reveals everything at once.
He reveals enough for us to take the next step.
Then He teaches us as we continue walking with
Him. Time doesn't replace the Holy Spirit, but
the Holy Spirit often uses time to reveal what
He has already spoken. So don't rush the process.
Walk with Him, trust Him, and allow Him to unfold
His purpose. one season at a time. Next time,
we'll walk back into that house, not simply to
admire it, not even to escape it, but to discover
why my father built every detail of that story
the way he did. Because nothing inside that house
was accidental. Every detail was pointing to
something far greater than I could have imagined.
Until then. May the Lord strengthen your faith,
guide your home, and continue building your house
one day, one lesson, and one revelation at a
time. Thank you for joining me. Grace and peace.
I'll see you in our next conversation.