WHO PAYS FOR THE ROOF?

 WHO PAYS FOR THE ROOF?

This short musing of mine describes an overlooked detail in a very touching and interesting miracle.

We all know the story from Mark 2:1-12. A paralyzed man is carried by four friends to see Jesus, but the house is packed. Undeterred, they haul him to the roof, dig through the clay and timber, and lower him into the room. Jesus, seeing their faith, heals the man.

It’s a powerful lesson on persistence, faith, and community. But lately, I can’t stop wondering… who paid for the roof?

The Unasked Question

The Bible doesn’t mention repairs. It doesn’t tell us if the homeowner was angry, if the friends collected money afterward, or if Jesus quietly covered the cost. We’re left to imagine the aftermath: the debris, the open sky, the property damage in the wake of a miracle.

And maybe that’s the point.

Three Ways to Think About "The Roof"

1. The Cost of Radical Friendship

Those four friends didn’t stop at the crowd. They were willing to create a disturbance, risk embarrassment, and possibly pay for damages—all to get their friend to Jesus. True friendship is sometimes costly. It’s not just about emotional support; it’s about tangible, disruptive action. They carried the weight, both physically and financially.

2. The Disruption of Faith

Real faith isn’t always orderly. It sometimes tears things open—routines, comfort, even literal roofs—to reach the presence of Jesus. The homeowner might have initially seen only a hole, but soon he witnessed a walking, living miracle in his own front room. What we call “damage,” God might call “a new opening.”

3. Jesus Sees the Heart, Not Just the Hole

Notice Jesus’ response: “When He saw their faith…” He honoured the collective effort. Perhaps the financial or practical concerns were secondary to the eternal miracle that took place. Yet, wouldn’t it be like Jesus to ensure the homeowner was left better, not worse? The Healer who restores bodies could certainly restore a roof—whether through miracle or means.

So, Who Did Pay?

We aren’t told. But what if the answer is “Everyone who has ever benefited from a miracle they didn’t personally witness”?

Every time we retell this story, we’re reminded:

· Faith that seeks Jesus is worth the disruption.

· Community carries burdens—even financial ones.

· Miracles often leave practical messes in their wake, and love helps clean them up.

Maybe the friends pooled their savings. Maybe the healed man, now able to work, offered his first wages. Maybe the homeowner considered it a privilege to have his roof be part of gospel history.

The Takeaway

Next time you face a “roof moment”—a situation where helping someone requires personal cost, risk, or cleanup—remember:

· Don’t let practical worries paralyze compassion.

· Miracles might start with a mess.

· Miracles don't produce faith; faith does produce miracles.

· Jesus sees and honours faith that takes action, even when it’s inconvenient.

In the end, the roof was a small price for a man who walked home that day. And perhaps our call is to be the kind of friends willing to break through barriers for one another—and trust that God handles the repairs.

“They couldn’t bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, so they dug a hole through the roof above his head…” — Mark 2:4.

© December 3rd, 2025

Pastor Emmanuel Obu 

The Apostle of Joy

SAME MISTAKE, TWO DIFFERENT FATES

 *SAME MISTAKE, TWO DIFFERENT FATES* 

What the story of Eli and Samuel teaches us about God's unique relationship with each of us is worthy of note and should not be ignored especially as we live daily with the consciousness of eternity in view.

We’ve all seen it happen: two people make the same mistake, but the consequences are worlds apart. One receives a second chance, while the other faces a stern, final judgment. It can feel confusing, even unfair.

This very dilemma plays out in a dramatic, high-stakes way within the biblical stories of two legendary leaders: Eli the High Priest and Samuel the Prophet. Both were men of immense spiritual authority. Both saw their sons spiral into corruption and abuse their power. Yet, God’s response to each man was strikingly different.

Why?

The answer forces us to move beyond a simple rulebook view of God and into the profound depths of a relational one. The key isn't in the failure itself, but in the heart of the one who failed, the nature of their role, and the story God was telling through them.

*The Stage: Custodian vs. Founder*

To understand the divine response, we must first understand the men’s drastically different job descriptions.

Eli: The Custodian of a Dying House

Eli was the High Priest, the guardian of Israel’s spiritual heart. His family line was entrusted with the Tabernacle, the sacrifices, the very presence of God. But his sons, Hophni and Phinehas, turned the house of God into a den of greed and immorality. They stole from God’s offerings and committed scandalous acts at the Tabernacle’s entrance.

Eli’s failure was one of passive complicity. He offered a mild rebuke but never wielded his authority to remove them. In prioritizing his sons over God’s holiness, he allowed the nation’s spiritual center to become contaminated. He was a caretaker who failed to care for the one thing that mattered most.

Samuel: The Founder of a New Order

Samuel was a revolutionary figure—a Prophet and Judge who transitioned Israel from tribal chaos to a monarchy.His failure was also with his sons, Joel and Abijah, whom he appointed as judges. They perverted justice for bribes.

This was a grave error in judgment, a failure of oversight. But critically, it was a failure in civil administration, not in the direct worship of God. His sons’ corruption became the catalyst for Israel to demand a king, pushing God’s plan forward in an unexpected way.

The Contrast: Eli corrupted the established system from the inside. Samuel’s flaw, while serious, occurred on a shifting frontier of leadership, and God used it to advance the national story.

*The Heart: Resignation vs. Intercession*

Beyond their job titles was the matter of their character—the posture of their hearts when confronted with their failings.

- Eli’s Resigned Acceptance

When a prophet delivered a searing message of judgment,and later when young Samuel confirmed it, Eli’s response was chillingly passive: _“He is the LORD; let him do what is good in his eyes.”_ This isn’t the cry of a broken King David pleading for mercy. It’s the sigh of a man who has long tolerated a slow decay and now accepts his fate as inevitable. His heart had grown complacent.

- Samuel’s Lifelong Dialogue

Samuel’s entire life was defined by a single, powerful phrase he spoke as a boy: _“Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.”_ From that moment on, he lived in a posture of obedience and intercession. He consistently stood in the gap for Israel, fighting for them and praying for them. His failure with his sons appears as a blind spot in an otherwise faithful life, not a defining character trait.

The Contrast: God judges the trajectory of a heart. Eli’s was on a path of resigned decline. Samuel’s, despite this stumble, was on a steadfast path of devotion.

*The Bigger Picture: A Tale of Two Legacies*

Finally, we see that their stories served different purposes in the grand, redemptive narrative.

· Eli’s End was a necessary divine surgery. The prophecy against his house paved the way for the priesthood to be restored to a faithful line, ultimately pointing forward to Jesus, our perfect High Priest.

· Samuel’s Story was one of transitions. His personal failure became the public pivot point that ushered in the era of kings, setting the stage for the lineage of David and the coming Messiah.

*The Takeaway: Why Samuel Was "Let Go"*

Samuel wasn’t given a pass because his sons were better. He wasn’t directly condemned because:

1. His heart was different. His life was a symphony of obedience, with one dissonant chord.

2. His failure was different. It was a flaw in administration, not a direct defilement of worship.

3. His role was different. He was a prophet building a new future, not a priest corrupting the present sanctuary.

The lesson is both challenging and comforting: God does not treat us as interchangeable units. He sees the whole person—our history, our heart’s intention, and our place in His purpose. The same external sin in two different people can lead to vastly different outcomes, not because God is arbitrary, but because He is deeply, personally just.

He deals with us not just on what we did, but on who we are, and who He has called us to be.

© November 25th, 2025

*Pastor Emmanuel Obu*

*The Apostle of Joy*

BLIND SPOT, BIG GAP

 *BLIND SPOT, BIG GAP* 

Leadership is very challenging and therefore must be approached deliberately and with utmost care. A study of the life of one of the greatest leaders of Israel, Samuel, has been a piece of study for me lately. Many instructive lessons to learn from this bible character especially in the school of leadership.

I asked the question, "How come Samuel opened the door of iniquity to his children, Joel & Abiah?"

Though the Bible does not explicitly state, "Samuel sinned in this specific way, causing his sons to be corrupt." However, a careful reading of 1 Samuel 8 provides a clear and sobering picture of how Samuel, a man of immense personal integrity, inadvertently opened a door of iniquity that his sons walked through.

The scripture is 1 Samuel 8:1-3:

_"And it came to pass, when Samuel was old, that he made his sons judges over Israel. Now the name of his firstborn was Joel; and the name of his second, Abiah: they were judges in Beer-sheba. And his sons walked not in his ways, but turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment."_

Samuel opened the door through two primary failures, one of Parenting and one of Priestly/Governmental Judgment:

*1. The Failure of Parental Diligence: The Absence of a Sustained Godly Example*

While Samuel was a righteous judge for the nation, the text implies a failure in the intimate discipleship of his own household. The phrase _"when Samuel was old"_ is key. This suggests that for much of their formative years, Samuel was consumed with his duties as a circuit judge for all Israel (1 Samuel 7:15-17).

· Spiritual Absence: A father can be morally upright and publicly anointed, but if he is not personally, consistently, and diligently instilling those values into his children, a vacuum is created. Samuel's national ministry likely came at the cost of his domestic ministry. His sons knew about his ways from a distance but did not personally internalize them because they lacked his daily, guiding influence.

· The Pattern of Eli: Samuel had grown up in the house of Eli, where he saw firsthand the consequences of a priest who failed to restrain his corrupt sons (1 Samuel 3:13). Despite this, he fell into a similar trap. This shows the relentless nature of a bloodline pattern—even those who are aware of it can be ensnared by its subtle demands.

*2. The Failure of Discerned Delegation: Placing Them in a Position They Were Not Fit For*

This was Samuel's most direct act in opening the door. The scripture says, _"he made his sons judges over Israel."_

· Nepotism Over Qualification: Samuel appointed his sons based on lineage, not character. He bypassed the principle of proven character and spiritual maturity for the convenience of familial succession. He saw his sons as his heirs, but God had not anointed them for the role.

· Power Without the Corresponding Heart: He gave them the immense power and influence of a judgeship without ensuring they had the heart of a judge. He placed them in a position (Beer-sheba, a remote but significant border town) where they were free to exercise authority without his direct oversight. This was a recipe for disaster. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely—especially when given to those who have not had their character refined.

· He Built the Platform for Their Sin: Their specific sins—_"turned aside after lucre, and took bribes, and perverted judgment"_—were directly enabled by the position he gave them. Had they been simple farmers, their corruption would have had a limited scope. By making them judges, Samuel gave them a national platform upon which to enact their greed and injustice, thus bringing shame upon the office, the nation, and the name of God.

In summary, Samuel opened the door through:

· Spiritual Neglect: Failing to diligently disciple his sons in the fear of the Lord, likely due to the demands of his public ministry.

· Poor Judgment: Appointing them to a position of power for which their character was not prepared, ignoring the clear signs of their unworthiness.

This tragic account perfectly illustrates the sermon's point: "What a father does not conquer, the children often repeat with greater intensity."

Samuel did not conquer the potential for pride, greed, and the abuse of power in his own household. While he himself was not greedy, he was blind to the need to actively root it out of his sons. As a result, his sons did not merely become mildly wayward; they became publicly, institutionally corrupt, and their actions directly led to Israel's demand for a human king, rejecting God as their direct ruler (1 Samuel 8:5-7). The consequences of Samuel's unaddressed familial failure altered the course of a nation.

© November 21, 2025

Pastor Emmanuel Obu 

The Apostle of Joy

THE POWER OF A PRAYING FAMILY

 THE POWER OF A PRAYING FAMILY

Before the sun has touched the sill,

Or evening holds the world so still,

A different kind of strength takes root—

A family bowed, in silence, mute.

Not magic to keep storms at bay,

But grace to face the coming day.

A circle woven, hand in hand,

An unshakable, though unseen, band.

The table where the bread is torn

Becomes an altar, hope reborn.

The whispered plea, the grateful word,

A vocalisation of grace is heard.

The fears that in the darkness grow,

The joys that make the spirit glow,

Are halved and doubled in that space,

By mercy and by love’s embrace.

This is the legacy they make,

A well of faith for thirst’s deep sake.

A rhythm in the soul’s core,

That echoes on for evermore.

So let your home, through joy and strife,

Be sanctuary for this life.

For in the prayer that families raise,

Lies peace that stuns the noise of days.

© November 15th, 2025

Pastor Emmanuel Obu 

The Apostle of Joy

THE GHOST IN THE ROOM

 *THE GHOST IN THE ROOM*

The coffin of Jacob, their father, had been laid to rest in the cave of Machpelah. The official mourning period was over. The great patriarch was with his fathers. And in the silent, hollowed-out space that follows a great funeral, a chilling thought seized the hearts of Joseph's brothers: Now he will pay us back.

Seventeen years.

For seventeen years, they had lived in the bounty of Egypt under the protection of the brother they had once betrayed. They had eaten his bread, drunk from his wells, and been saved from famine by his foresight. For seventeen years, Joseph had shown them nothing but grace, provision, and familial kindness. He had wept with them, reassured them, and declared his theology of divine providence: _"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done."_

Yet, the moment their father’s mediating presence was removed, the ancient edifice of their guilt, which they thought had been dismantled, was revealed to be fully intact. It had merely been hiding behind their father's cloak.

*The Anatomy of a Lingering Grudge*

This is one of the most psychologically astute passages in all of Scripture. It reveals a truth we are often reluctant to admit: the recipient of forgiveness can sometimes be the last to believe it.

The brothers’ plea in Genesis 50:17 is a masterpiece of unresolved anxiety. They sent a message, not daring to face him directly: _"Before he died, your father gave us these instructions... 'This is what you are to say to Joseph: I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they committed in treating you so badly.'"_

Did Jacob actually say this, or was it a desperate fabrication born of fear? The text is ambiguous, and that is the point. Guilt is a powerful author of fiction. It twists memories and imagines threats. Their sin had become a ghost that haunted their every interaction, a lens through which they viewed Joseph's every gesture. A delayed summons, a furrowed brow, a thoughtful silence—all were interpreted as the prelude to a long-awaited revenge.

*The Weeping That Reveals the Wound*

Joseph’s reaction is as telling as their fear: _"When their message came to him, Joseph wept."_

These were not tears of frustration, but tears of heartbreak. He wept because he realized that his forgiveness, freely given and sincerely meant, had never been fully received. He wept for the seventeen years his brothers had lived as prisoners in the palace he had built for them. He wept because the chasm he had crossed to reach them with grace was a chasm they refused to believe could be bridged.

His forgiveness was a settled fact in his own heart, a chapter closed by the sovereignty of God. But for them, it remained a tentative truce, dependent on the presence of a patriarch.

*The Echo in Our Own Lives*

The intrigue of sibling rivalry, of old wounds and betrayals, is indeed deeply entrenched. This story holds up a mirror to our own souls and our own relationships, even decades after we have "given our lives to Christ."

· The Burden of the "Elder Brother": Are we, like Joseph's brothers, living in the shadow of a sin for which we have been forgiven? Do we serve God as nervous employees, fearing the moment the Boss will finally call in our debt, rather than as beloved children resting in a grace we can scarcely believe?

· The Limits of Our Forgiveness: Conversely, are we like Joseph, bewildered that someone still doubts our pardon? Yet, we must ask: have we, like Joseph, consistently demonstrated that forgiveness through ongoing kindness, or did we simply declare it once and expect the relationship to be magically healed?

· The Ghosts We Harbor: The brothers' guilt was the ghost in every room. What ghosts do we entertain? The memory of a harsh word we spoke? A betrayal we enacted? A jealousy we nursed that poisoned a family or a friendship? These ghosts have power only if we refuse to believe that the grace of Christ is greater than our sin.

The powerful conclusion of Genesis 50 is Joseph’s restatement of his grace, this time with even more tenderness: _"Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good... So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children."_

The healing began not when Joseph first forgave them, but when they were finally able to hear it, believe it, and live in the freedom of it. The story challenges us to a deeper work: to not only offer forgiveness but to embody it so consistently that the other person can finally, after seventeen years or more, lay their burden down. And, perhaps more painfully, it calls us to accept the forgiveness—from God and from others—that we have been too guilty to receive, and to finally silence the ghost of a debt that has already been paid.

© November 14th, 2025

*Pastor Emmanuel Obu*

*The Apostle of Joy*

WALK FOR LIFE

 WALK FOR LIFE 

The morning had not yet decided to be day, a world of soft, grey light and sleeping shadows. And in that quiet hour, I walked with a lesson in motion—a retired military gentleman, 84 years young, whose stride was a steady, unyielding metronome. For five kilometers, his pace never faltered, a quiet engine of discipline humming where others might have sputtered and stalled. As we walked, he painted a picture of his youth in Ibadan, of a young soldier jogging from Iso Pako in Sango to the Liberty Stadium and back, a daily pilgrimage of steel. It was in that moment, between his past and our present, that the profound, simple truth revealed itself: the walk is not about the distance, but the doing. It is a testament to the power of consistency, the beauty of discipline, and the glorious possibility of aging in health.

That daily walk, even if it is a short, gentle circuit around a park, is a quiet rebellion against the chaos of modern life. It is not a dramatic, sweat-drenched ordeal, but a covenant you make with yourself. The primary value lies not in the pounding of the heart, but in the fortitude of the spirit. To lace up your shoes when motivation is silent, to step out the door when inertia beckons you to the couch—this is the practice of discipline. And discipline, compounded daily, becomes a form of freedom. It is the architecture of a life lived by design, where you are the steadfast captain of your own body and mind. Each step is a quiet affirmation: "I am here. I am capable. I am in charge."

From this dedicated discipline, a cascade of benefits flows, seeping into the very fabric of your being. Physically, it is the gentle, low-impact rhythm that keeps the joints oiled, the heart resilient, and the muscles remembering their purpose. It is the steady hand that regulates blood pressure, tames the restless mind, and coaxes sleep from the depths of the night. Mentally, it becomes a moving meditation. The simple, repetitive motion clears the clutter of worry, allowing solutions to surface and perspective to broaden. A walk is a conversation with yourself, with the world, with God. The path becomes a therapist's couch, a prayer hall, an artist's studio for the imagination.

And this brings us to the true masterpiece, the one my walking companion embodied so perfectly: the beauty of aging in health. We often speak of aging with fear, framing it as a slow decline, a diminishing. But what if we saw it as my friend demonstrated—a gradual refinement, a paring down to the essential, a strengthening of the core?

Aging in health is not the absence of wrinkles or grey hair; it is the presence of a light in the eyes and a spring in the step. It is the profound beauty of a body that has been a faithful companion, cared for and listened to. It is the dignity of independence, the joy of being able to bend down to tie your own shoes, to carry your own bags, to take a morning walk unassisted. This is the dividend paid out from a lifetime of small, consistent investments in well-being. My friend’s body, at 84, is not a prison of aches and limitations, but a familiar, capable vessel that still carries him on his chosen path. His aging is not a fading, but a deepening—a repository of a million steps taken, a lifetime of discipline that now allows him to greet each new day on his own two feet.

His story of jogging to Liberty Stadium was not just a memory of youthful vigor; it was the foundation upon which his vibrant present was built. The young man's run forged the resilience that now allows the elder man's enlivening walk. This is the legacy of consistency. It is a chain of days, linked together, that becomes unbreakable.

So, do not underestimate the short walk. Do not defer the start until you have more time, more energy, a better path. The miracle is in the repetition. Every single step is a vote for your future self, a deposit into the bank of your long-term health. It is a promise that you, too, can aspire to be like the gentleman in the soft morning light—not just aging, but aging with grace, with strength, and with the consistent, beautiful pace of a life well-lived, one step at a time.

© November 10, 2025

Pastor Emmanuel Obu 

The Apostle of Joy

2026: THE YEAR OF LIGHT

 2026: THE YEAR OF LIGHT

Embracing Divine Illumination for Destiny’s Fulfillment

Beloved in Christ,

As we step into the year 2026, our theme resounds with divine clarity and promise: THE YEAR OF LIGHT. This is not merely a slogan; it is a prophetic decree, a spiritual mandate, and a heavenly summons to walk in the radiance of God’s glory. In a world shrouded in moral, emotional, and spiritual darkness, God is calling His Church to arise as carriers of His eternal light.

The very first utterance of God in creation was, “Let there be light” (Genesis 1:3). In the same way, He speaks over your life this year: Let there be light over your family. Let there be light over your purpose. Let there be light over every area of confusion and stagnation. You are stepping into a season of divine revelation where what has been hidden will be unveiled and every crooked path will be made straight before you.

I. THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINATES THE HEART

The scripture declares, “He hath set the world in their heart” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). There is a God-shaped void within every human soul—a longing for eternity that nothing temporal can satisfy. In this Year of Light, God is not just illuminating your external circumstances; He is shining His laser of truth into the deepest chambers of your heart. That lingering emptiness, that sense that there must be more—it is a sacred hunger placed there by God Himself, and in 2026, He is prepared to fill it with the substance of His presence.

You will no longer wander in the shadows of doubt or the fog of existential uncertainty. The Light of the World is inviting you into intimate communion, where your soul finds its ultimate rest and fulfillment in Him alone.

II. THE LIGHT THAT GUIDES THE PATH

“The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day” (Proverbs 4:18).

This is a year of progressive illumination. God is not revealing your entire journey at once, but He promises to light your way step by step. You will not walk in confusion or the futile guesswork of human reasoning. Like a pillar of fire in the night, His Spirit will guide you through uncertain terrain, business decisions, relational crossroads, and ministry directives. Your path will be marked with increasing clarity, purpose, and divine confirmation. Where you once saw only obstacles, you will now see opportunities orchestrated by heaven. Every step you take in obedience will brighten the road ahead until you walk in the fullness of your “perfect day”—your God-ordained destiny.

III. THE LIGHT THAT REVEALS AND DISPELS DARKNESS

Light, by its very nature, exposes what is hidden. In this year, divine illumination will bring godly clarity to every dark perspective and hidden situation. “For there is nothing hid, which shall not be manifested; neither was any thing kept secret, but that it should come abroad” (Mark 4:22). This is a season where God will reveal:

· Hidden blessings prepared for you.

· Hidden strategies for victory.

· Hidden cycles of defeat, so you can break them.

· Hidden opportunities disguised as obstacles.

This exposure is for your redemption, protection, and advancement. Do not fear the light, for it comes from the Father of lights (James 1:17), in whom there is no shadow of turning.

IV. YOU ARE COMMISSIONED AS A BEARER OF LIGHT

This theme is not passive; it is active. Jesus said, “Ye are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). As you receive light, you are also mandated to radiate it. In a culture of confusion, your life will display divine clarity. In an atmosphere of despair, your testimony will beam with hope. Your home, your workplace, and your community will be impacted by the grace and truth you carry. This year, you will not hide your light but will set it on a stand, bringing glory to your Father in heaven.

PRAYER DECLARATIONS FOR THE YEAR OF LIGHT

Let these declarations be the seal of faith upon your heart and lips throughout 2026:

1. Father, in the name of Jesus, I thank You for ordaining 2026 as my Year of Light. I step into it with expectation and faith.

2. I declare that every area of darkness in my life—confusion, fear, indecision, or hidden sin—is now exposed and dissolved by the light of Your Word and Your Spirit.

3. My path is illuminated by the lamp of Your Word and the guidance of Your Spirit. I will not stumble in guesswork or walk in circles. I follow the pillar of fire and cloud, and I advance with precision toward my destiny.

4. I decree that every hidden blessing, every divine connection, and every ordained opportunity meant for my life is now brought to light and manifested in Jesus' name.

5. The God-shaped eternity in my heart is satisfied by Your presence alone. I am filled with Your Spirit, and I walk in divine contentment and purpose.

6. I am a light to my world. My life dispels darkness, heals brokenness, and draws men to the glory of God. My influence increases, and my testimony shines brighter every day.

7. I reject every spirit of obscurity and delay. My life, family, business, and ministry are propelled into new realms of visibility, impact, and divine favour.

8. According to Proverbs 4:18, my path shines brighter and brighter. I experience progressive revelation, progressive healing, and progressive victory until I stand in the full noon-day light of my ordained destiny.

Conclusion:

Church, this is our appointed time. 2026: THE YEAR OF LIGHT. Let us not receive this grace in vain. Arise, shake off the shadows of the past, and fix your eyes upon the Author and Finisher of your faith. He is your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory (Isaiah 60:19).

Walk in this light. Speak this light. Live as a child of this light. For the dawn has broken, and your perfect day is here.

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,

Amen.

© January 2nd, 2026

Pastor Emmanuel Obu 

The Apostle of Joy