Welcome To Seun Ogunla's Blog

Dear Nigerian Christian, If you saw my first letter you would have known that I used to be a Muslim but now a Christian. I have been in hiding because, anyone born a Muslim and converts to Christianity has a death sentence on his head. It is even worse now that they know I have decided to reveal their hidden agenda to the Nigerian Christian who stupidly voted Buhari, a known jihadist as president. In that letter I told you about the subtle ways president Buhari is going about his islamization agenda. In this part I will explain, with Islamic teachings why our president is making some of his moves without caring about the feelings and sensibilities of Christians in Nigeria. So much has happened since my last letter and God willing, I will continue to educate you as things unfold. Please pray for me cause the forces of darkness are arrayed against me for telling the truth. And if you ever hear that I get killed don't weep for me. Just know I have finished my race and am with the ...

Ishaku Abdul'rahman Mohammed now a Christian wrote this Letter to the senseless Christians to begin to use their brains. From what I see today in Nigeria I am very certain that Muslims would not need to use a violent jihad to islamize Nigeria. CHRISTIANS themselves will be used by Muslims to islamize Nigeria. Afterwards the Muslims will turn against the Christians that helped them. These are the type Muslims call the useful idiots. Just ask yourself how Muslim nations became Islamic nations? Is there any record of them doing evangelical work? Did they tell people about how wonderful their prophet Mohammed is? How he raped women? How he beheaded nine hundred Jews in one day? How he had sex with a nine year old girl? How he was demon possessed for one year? How he could not perform a miracle? How he is a prophet without a prophecy? How he sold slaves for weapons of war? If MUSLIMS did not do evangelism how come there are 58 nations of the world Who say they are ISLAMIC countries...

ShunnysideVille Records presents a tour to the 7 Churches... Get ready to worship God the African way. See you in your local church!

Jean heaved another world-weary sigh. Tucking a strand of shiny black hair behind her ear, she frowned at the teetering tower of Christmas cards waiting to be signed. What was the point? How could she sign only one name? A "couple" required two people, and she was just one. The legal separation from Don had left her feeling vacant and incomplete. Maybe she would skip the cards this year. And the holiday decorating. Truthfully, even a tree felt like more than she could manage. She had canceled out of the caroling party and the church nativity pageant. Christmas was to be shared, and she had no one to share it with. The doorbell's insistent ring startled her. Padding to the door in her thick socks, Jean cracked it open against the frigid December night. She peered into the empty darkness of the porch. Instead of a friendly face something she could use about now -- she found only a jaunty green gift bag perched on the railing. From whom?she wondered. And why? Under the ...

Back in 1932, I was 32 years old and a fairly new husband. My wife, Nettie and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago's Southside. One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis, where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting. I didn't want to go. Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first child. But a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis. I kissed Nettie good-bye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and, in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66. However, outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, had forgotten my music case. I wheeled around and headed back. I found Nettie sleeping peacefully. I hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling me to stay. But eager to get on my way, and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music. The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing ag...

A Jewish lady named Mrs. Rosenberg many years ago was stranded late one night at a fashionable resort - one that did not admit Jews. The desk clerk looked down at his book and said, "Sorry, no room. The hotel is full." The Jewish lady said, "But your sign says that you have vacancies." The desk clerk stammered and then said curtly, "You know that we do not admit Jews. Now if you will try the other side of town..." Mrs. Rosenberg stiffened noticeable and said, "I'll have you know I converted to your religion." The desk clerk said, "Oh, yeah, let me give you a little test. How was Jesus born?" Mrs. Rosenberg replied, "He was born to a virgin named Mary in a little town called Bethlehem." "Very good," replied the hotel clerk. "Tell me more." Mrs. Rosenberg replied, "He was born in a manger." "That's right," said the hotel clerk. "And why was he born in a manger?" Mrs. Ros...

There was once a very wise teacher, whose words of wisdom students would come from far and wide to hear. One day as usual, many students began to gather in the teaching room. They came in and sat down very quietly, looking to the front with keen anticipation, ready to hear what the teacher had to say. Eventually the teacher came in and sat down in front of the students. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. On one side of the teacher was a large glass jar. On the other side was a pile of dark grey rocks. Without saying a word, the teacher began to pick up the rocks one by one and place them very carefully in the glass jar (Plonk. Plonk.) When all the rocks were in the jar, the teacher turned to the students and asked, 'Is the jar full?' 'Yes,' said the students. 'Yes, teacher, the jar is full'. Without saying a word, the teacher began to drop small round pink pebbles carefully into the large glass jar so that they fell down between the rocks. (Clic...