Welcome to Pamoja Podcast, a ministry of Life
of Christ International Ministries. The place
where stronger lives are built, faith is strengthened,
hearts are encouraged, and Christ -centered homes
are shaped through ordinary conversations that
become extraordinary encounters with God's truth.
One conversation, one story, one revelation at
a time. As I look back at the story my father
told me many years ago, I realize something that
escaped my attention for a long time. He wasn't
simply describing a house. Every detail he mentioned
had a purpose. The house was in the middle of
a forest. It was warm. It had a strong foundation.
The door could only be opened from the outside.
And then, almost as if it were just another detail,
He told me that the windows were sealed. For
years I never questioned that statement. I simply
accepted it as part of the story. But after nearly
two decades of marriage, after storms, after
victories, after failures, after learning what
it truly means to protect a covenant, I found
myself returning to that one detail. Why did
my father insist that the windows were sealed?
Why mention the windows at all? Why not simply
say the house was secure? Why emphasize something
that, at first glance, seems so ordinary? Today,
I believe I understand. Because every house has
windows. Every marriage has windows. Every family
has windows. Every heart has windows. And whatever
enters through those windows, eventually changes
the atmosphere inside. There is something I've
learned over the years. Most people fear the
storms outside. Very few pay attention to the
openings inside. We spend so much energy trying
to stop what is happening around us. The difficult
economy, the pressure at work, the opinions of
people, the temptations of the world, the uncertainty
of tomorrow. But the greatest danger has rarely
been the forest surrounding the house. The greatest
danger has always been what finds its way inside.
Because once the battle enters the house, it
is no longer happening around you. It is happening
within you. Growing up, there was a house in
my neighborhood that everyone knew. It wasn't
abandoned. At least, not in the beginning. It
wasn't haunted. It wasn't mysterious. It was
simply broken. The first thing people noticed
wasn't the roof. It wasn't the walls. It wasn't
the foundation. It was the windows. One after
another. They had cracked. Some had shattered
completely. Others had been left partially open.
No one repaired them. At first, nothing dramatic
happened. Just a little breeze. A little dust.
A little rain. Nothing that seemed urgent. Nothing
that demanded immediate attention. Days became
weeks. Weeks became months. The wind continued
entering. Cold air settled inside. Moisture began
to damage the wood. Leaves gathered in the corners.
Insects found their way in. Then animals. Little
by little, the atmosphere changed. Eventually,
that house no longer looked like a home. It looked
like a warning, and everyone who walked by understood
something without anyone having to explain it.
That house had not been destroyed in one day.
It had slowly welcomed destruction. That image
has stayed with me for years, because marriages
rarely collapse overnight. Families rarely break
apart in a single moment. Faith rarely disappears
in one decision. Most destruction enters gradually.
Quietly, patiently, almost unnoticed. Until one
day our people ask, what happened? And the answer
is often much simpler than they imagined. The
windows were left unattended. One sentence has
settled deeply in my heart. I believe it captures
this entire revelation. A house rarely falls
because of what strikes it. It falls because
of what it allows inside. Think about that. Storms
hit every house. Jesus himself said that the
rain falls, the floods come, the winds blow,
against every house. The difference was never
the existence of storms. The difference was what
remained standing after the storm had passed.
Why? Because one house had been prepared, the
other had not. This is where I began seeing my
father's wisdom differently. The sealed windows
were never about keeping fresh air out. They
were about protecting the atmosphere within.
Because atmosphere is precious. Peace has an
atmosphere. Joy has an atmosphere. Trust has
an atmosphere. Prayer has an atmosphere. Love
has an atmosphere. Unity has an atmosphere. And
atmosphere changes. the moment something foreign
is allowed to enter. Have you ever walked into
a room where people had just argued? No one says
anything, yet you can feel it. The atmosphere
speaks. Have you ever entered a home filled with
peace? Children laugh, people smile, conversations
are gentle, there is rest. The atmosphere speaks.
Atmosphere is invisible. But it is powerful,
and it is shaped by what is permitted to remain
inside the house. My father understood something
I would only understand years later. The forest
was never the greatest threat. The house already
knew there would be storms. It had been built
for storms. The walls were strong. The foundation
was deep. The fire was burning. The threat was
never outside. The threat was anything that crossed
the boundary between outside and inside. That
boundary was the window. How many marriages have
been weakened? Not because the couple stopped
loving each other, but because something entered
the atmosphere. A disappointment that was never
discussed. A comparison that quietly grew. An
offense that remained unresolved. A voice that
should never have been entertained. Not dramatic.
Not obvious. Just enough to change the climate.
Peter writes these words, Be alert and of sober
mind. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around
like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
Notice what Peter does not say. He does not tell
us to fear. He tells us to stay alert. because
vigilance is part of love. We lock our doors
because we value what is inside. We protect our
children because they are precious. We guard
our hearts because they belong to God. Protection
is not fear. Protection is stewardship. Perhaps
that is why Proverbs tells us, Guard it, not
because God cannot protect you, but because He
has entrusted something valuable to your care.
Just as Adam was placed in the garden to work
it and to keep it, we have been entrusted with
our homes, our marriages, our families, our hearts.
God protects, but He also calls us to watch.
As I reflected on my father's story, Another
thought came to me. Maybe the reason the windows
were sealed wasn't because the people inside
feared the forest. Maybe it was because they
loved the atmosphere inside the house too much
to risk losing it. That changes everything. They
were not living in fear. They were living with
wisdom. There is a difference. In our next conversation,
I want to tell you another story. An old story
passed down by elders. It is the story of a husband
and wife who welcomed a traveler into their home.
He did not arrive carrying weapons. He arrived
carrying kindness. He did not force his way in.
He was invited. And by the time they realized
why he had come, the greatest damage had already
been done. Because sometimes, The enemy does
not enter through violence. Sometimes he enters
through permission. And that may be the most
dangerous window of all. Until next time, remember
this. You cannot control the forest, but you
can guard the windows of your house. And what
you protect today will shape the atmosphere your
family lives in tomorrow.