Lubar.n art

13/04/2026

Legendary that's last forever 🤣🤣

24/03/2026

the color pencil drawing on A3 of our MEC ❤️✏️

24/03/2026

color pencil drawing on A3 ❤️❤️✏️

22/03/2026

🙌🙌😭😭

The Life Heaven Refused to Let Go

Some lives refuse to end quietly.

They echo. They linger. They speak long after the body is gone.

We all carry names in our hearts. People we are still grieving. People who stood with us when life was heavy. People who understood us without explanation. People we still whisper to God about, asking Him for one more moment, one more conversation, one more chance.

And then Scripture introduces a woman whose story interrupts death itself.

In Joppa, there was a disciple named Tabitha.

No crown. No pulpit. No spotlight. Just a life surrendered to Jesus.

And that was enough.

Her faith did not announce itself with noise. It revealed itself in action. The Bible says she was always doing good works. Always. Not occasionally. Not when it was convenient. Not when she felt emotional. Always.

That word exposes something deep. This was not a momentary passion. This was a lifestyle of obedience.

She saw needs and moved.
She noticed pain and responded.
She found broken places and quietly stitched them back together.

Her hands carried what her mouth didn’t need to say.

Then the unthinkable happened.

She became sick and died.

And suddenly, the one who had been lifting others needed to be carried.

Her body was placed in an upstairs room. Still. Silent. Gone.

But the room did not feel empty.

It was filled with widows weeping.

Not casual tears. Not routine mourning. This was the kind of grief that comes from losing someone who held your life together. The kind of grief that says, “Who will stand for us now?”

And then something powerful happened.

They brought evidence.

Garments. Tunics. Robes.

Every piece she had made.

Every stitch told a story.
Every thread carried compassion.
Every fabric held dignity.

These were not just clothes. They were proof of love in action.

Because for those widows, clothing was not fashion. It was survival. It was dignity. It was restoration. And when life had stripped them of everything, Tabitha showed up and covered them.

Quietly. Faithfully. Consistently.

This is where the story shifts.

Heaven looked down and paid attention to what earth was crying about.

God saw the tears.
God saw the evidence.
God saw the life that had been poured out.

And God responded.

Tabitha was raised from the dead.

Not because she had influence.
Not because she had a platform.
Not because she carried a title.

But because her life reflected His heart.

Let that sink in.

A life of consistent, unseen obedience moved heaven to interrupt death.

This is where the question becomes personal.

What will speak for us when we are gone?

Not what we posted.
Not what we said.
But what we did.

Will there be evidence?

Will there be lives that stand up and say, “Because of them, I made it”?
Will there be quiet testimonies of kindness, generosity, and sacrifice?
Will our absence leave a gap that only love could have filled?

Our words may be remembered. But our works will testify.

Tabitha’s story confronts the way we measure significance.

We chase visibility. God honors obedience.
We chase recognition. God responds to faithfulness.
We chase platforms. God looks for surrendered hearts.

She never preached a sermon, yet her life became one.

And even death could not silence it.

God sees the unseen.

He sees the small acts no one applauds.
He sees the quiet sacrifices no one posts about.
He sees the consistency that no one celebrates.

And He does not forget.

A life poured out for others is never wasted.
A life surrendered to God is never overlooked.
A life marked by obedience will always echo in eternity.

So live in a way that leaves evidence.

Love deeply. Serve faithfully. Give generously.

Because some lives don’t just end.

They speak.

And some lives… heaven refuses to let go.🫰🏼🩷

...✝️🍂🪔🦋✨🤎
𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ♟️🐾💎

15/03/2026

The Man Who Refused to Let Salvation Pass Him By

Three crosses stood on a hill outside Jerusalem.

In the center hung Jesus.
On each side hung a criminal.

All three men were close enough to hear the same words. Close enough to see the same mercy. Close enough to witness the same Savior.

But only one left that hill with a promise of paradise.

Scripture is filled with moments where people stood face to face with undeniable evidence of who Jesus was… and still hardened their hearts.

One night in the garden, a mob came to arrest Him. They carried torches, weapons, and anger. In the chaos, Peter swung a sword and cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant, a man named Malchus.

What did Jesus do?

He reached down, picked up the ear, and healed the very man who had come to take Him away.

Imagine witnessing that.

A man heals an injury in the middle of his own arrest. A miracle performed for an enemy.

And yet the soldiers still tied His hands and led Him away.

Mercy stood in front of them… and they refused to see it.

Another crowd stood outside a tomb in Bethany. A man named Lazarus had been dead for four days. The stone was heavy. The smell of death had already settled in.

Jesus stood before the tomb and called out with authority, “Lazarus, come out.”

And the dead man walked out.

Grave clothes still wrapped around him.
Breath returned to his lungs.
Life where death had ruled.

Many people saw it with their own eyes.

Yet instead of surrendering to the Son of God, some of the religious leaders began plotting how to kill Him.

They saw resurrection… and chose rejection.

Then there were two criminals nailed beside Him on the cross.

Both men were guilty.
Both men were dying.
Both men were only a few feet away from the Savior of the world.

One joined the crowd in mocking Jesus.

“If you are the Christ, save yourself and us.”

Even in his final moments, his heart stayed hard.

But the other thief saw something different.

Through the blood.
Through the pain.
Through the suffering.

He saw a King.

He rebuked the other criminal and said something remarkable.

“We are punished justly… but this man has done nothing wrong.”

Then he turned his head toward Jesus and said the words that changed his eternity.

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

That was it.

No long prayer.
No perfect theology.
No years of religious practice.

Just a broken man recognizing the truth standing beside him.

And Jesus answered him with a promise that still echoes across history.

“Today you will be with me in paradise.”

One thief let salvation pass him by.

The other refused to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

The difference was not distance.

It was the heart.

And the same thing still happens today.

People hear the gospel every week.
They see lives changed.
They watch prayers answered.
They sit in churches where the presence of God moves.

Yet some walk away unchanged.

Not because God was silent.
Not because grace was absent.

But because their hearts stayed closed.

The thief on the cross had almost nothing.

No future.
No reputation to repair.
No time left to prove himself.

But he did the one thing that mattered most.

He turned to Jesus.

Salvation was within reach… and he refused to let it pass him by.

And that question still echoes into every heart today.

Jesus is still near. Mercy is still offered. Grace is still extended. The only question left is this. Will you recognize Him… or will salvation pass you by?🫰🏼🩷

...✝️🍂🪔🦋✨🤎
𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ♟️🐾💎

14/03/2026

The Artist ❤️💪🎨

Infamous self-taught artist. Rasta, real name Lebani Sirenje, has painted a tribute portrait of the late Mosiuoa Lekota. He is in Bloemfontein, where the former COPE leader's funeral is underway.

13/03/2026

🙏❤️

The First Witness No One Expected

The greatest announcement in human history did not begin in a palace. It did not come from a priest, a scholar, or a ruler.

It came from a woman the world had already dismissed.

Her name was Mary Magdalene.

Long before she ever stood outside an empty tomb, her life had been a battlefield. Scripture tells us that seven demons had once tormented her until Jesus Christ set her free. Seven. That number wasn’t just a statistic. It was a picture of how deeply broken her life had been.

Society had already placed her in a category.

Damaged.
Unstable.
Untrustworthy.

In the first century, a woman’s testimony was often dismissed in court. Her voice carried little weight in public matters. If someone were inventing a story about a resurrected Messiah, they would never choose someone like Mary as the first witness.

They would choose someone respectable.
Someone powerful.
Someone whose reputation could not be questioned.

But God’s kingdom has never operated according to human expectations.

Early on the morning after the crucifixion, Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. The stone had been rolled away. The body of Jesus was gone. The man who had rescued her from darkness had been crucified, and now even His body seemed lost.

Grief filled the air.

Then a voice spoke her name.

“Mary.”

In that moment, everything changed.

The risen Christ stood before her alive.

The One who had died on the cross was now standing in victory over death itself. The greatest miracle in history had just occurred. Sin had been defeated. The grave had been conquered. The hope of the world had risen.

And the first person Jesus chose to reveal Himself to was the woman many people once considered beyond repair.

Think about that.

Jesus bypassed the religious leaders.
He bypassed the scholars of the law.
He even bypassed the disciples who were hiding in fear.

He chose Mary.

Because God does not choose people the way the world does.

The world studies your past. God sees your surrender.

The world measures your reputation. God measures your heart.

The world says your history defines you. God says His redemption rewrites you.

Mary’s story is not just about deliverance. It is about authorization.

Jesus didn’t simply heal her brokenness and send her quietly back into the crowd. He gave her a mission.

“Go and tell them.”

The first declaration of the resurrection did not come from a pulpit or a temple platform. It came from the voice of a woman who had once been known more for her past than her potential.

The woman who had been delivered from darkness became the first herald of the greatest light the world had ever seen.

Religion often whispers lies to wounded people.

Your past disqualifies you.
Your mistakes silence you.
Your story is too messy for God to use.

But the resurrection tells a different story.

Jesus doesn’t just forgive your past.
He redeems it.

He doesn’t just heal your scars.
He turns them into a testimony.

He doesn’t just rescue you from darkness.
He sends you back into the world carrying light.

Mary Magdalene walked away from that tomb with a message no one else on earth had yet proclaimed.

“He is alive.”

The woman who once carried seven demons now carried the first announcement of the resurrection.

That is the scandal of grace.

God delights in choosing the people others overlook.
He delights in lifting the voices others try to silence.
He delights in turning broken stories into living proof of His power.

So the question becomes deeply personal.

Are you allowing your past to silence you?

Or are you willing to let God transform every scar, every mistake, every painful chapter into a testimony that points people to Him?

Because the same Jesus who called Mary by name still calls people today.

And the ones the world dismisses are often the very ones God uses to announce His greatest victories.

Your past is not the end of your story.

In the hands of God, it may be the very thing He uses to declare His glory.🫰🏼🩷

...✝️🍂🪔🦋✨🤎
𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 🐾💎