When Truth Becomes Too Loud to Silence

A reflection on Acts 4:18–20

When truth grips the heart, silence can no longer contain it.

“Then they called them in again and commanded them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John replied, ‘Which is right in God’s eyes: to listen to you, or to Him? You be the judges! As for us, we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.’” — Acts 4:18–20

They tried to silence them. The same city that once shouted “Hosanna!” had shouted “Crucify Him!” not long before. Now, that same city whispered another word—“Hush.”

But Peter and John couldn’t hush. They had seen too much. Heard too much. Been changed too deeply.

When truth burns that close to your heart, silence feels like betrayal.

When Forty Years Led Me Home

A testimony of grace after forty years of wandering

After forty years of wandering, Jesus turned a restless story into a homecoming of grace.

My name is Assdhy Lolowang, and I was born in a small town by the shore called Fakfak, Indonesia.

Growing up, I never truly knew what home meant. Every three years, my family moved — sometimes to a different neighborhood, sometimes to a different country. By the time I started to settle, pack-up time came again.

I never had what many people treasure: a childhood friend from the same street, the same school, the same church. My constants were my siblings, my parents, and a name that was spoken over me from the beginning: Jesus.

Abide in His Love

A heartfelt reflection on trusting the Father’s watchful care and the Spirit’s life within

Even when we cannot see Him, our Father never takes His eyes off His children.

I’ve been learning a lot lately about what it means to abide in God’s love. It’s easy to talk about trusting Him when everything feels close and visible. However, I believe that real abiding happens when God seems distant—when life feels hard, when hope seems out of reach—yet you still choose to walk in His will, believing that He is near.

A couple of days ago, Atchi, Nanan, Rarah, and I were given a task by our beloved queen, my wife, to buy groceries from a big store. From a young age, Farah and I have tried to teach our children to listen. Listening, to us, is one of the simplest and hardest lessons in life. It’s the foundation of abiding, to trust what you’ve been told, even when you walk out of sight.

The aisles of this store stretched long and wide. I handed their shopping list to Nanan and Rarah, gave them their own cart, and told them where to meet me when they were done.