I recently moved into a nicer house. Everything seems to fit perfect. The rooms are the right size. The archetecture is pleasing to the eye. The yard is landscaped attractively. We have spent many hours working to make the house exactly the way we want it. Most of the world would love to live in an American house like this.
 
Everything is just right. Except the people. When you are used to much you are thankful for little. I recall a pastor who went to the Phillipines and was shown the home of a Phillipino pastor. He was so proud of his home. It was on top of a large hill that was heavily populated with tiny shacks. It was the only one with a light bulb. I recall seeing the faces of excitement of Romanian children who received a sack of potatoes. The houses that Jesus lived in, the creator of the worlld, were miniscule to what many of us are used to in America.
 
All the luxeries that the world craves for, yet there is no peace. Bickering, complaining and strife and church on Sundays have become the agenda. Where oh where has my Jesus gone. A mouth full of bitters reward for prayer and meditation. The soul has not yeilded or the soul has not learned the way of the Lord. I feel I am not alone. I don't like this place.
 
Help us Lord find our way back to your way of peace, you say your yoke is easy and your way is light. We must have made a mistake some where. Show us the way back, direct our feet in the way we should go. Change our hearts Lord.