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Still Airing live is the PCDL Users and Subscribers Conference Europe Zone 4. Watch as the Esteemed Pastor Chuka Ibeachum shares inspiring thoughts on the Importance of the PCDL App #watchliveonpcdltv #yourloveworld #perfection #pcdl #pcdlusc #pastorchris

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WHO PUT SALT IN MY BEANS? Looking at happenings all across the world today with events such as State capture, deep state activities, the livelihood of nations and millions of people being stolen right before their eyes, many thoughts crossed my mind, and so I decided to share a couple of stories from the recesses of my University days. Now I must confirm that both of these events happened as I am relating them. Time: Early afternoon on both occasions Locations: The dark and ominous students hostel known as Hall Four Hall Four was not your average student accommodation designed to convey a sense of learning, progression, freedom, academic serenity, and ventilation. Hall Four was probably designed by someone who had studied mazes and dark caves and decided that a daily dose of caving and mazing would be conducive to the encouragement of student academic endeavors. It consisted of corridor after corridor with very dim lighting. There were rooms on both sides, each room subdivided into four cubicles designed for one occupant each, although students often shared the cubicles to cut down on accommodation expenses. Somewhere within this maze of poorly ventilated pathways were open areas allocated to lawn tennis and even some areas for the time-honored tradition of washing and hanging out our clothes in the sunshine. These communal areas had a series of taps where you could do your washing with your buckets. Hmmm, why do buckets keep coming up in my stories… Anyway, these open areas were festooned with dozens of clotheslines from which to hang our various items of clothing, like shirts, socks, trousers, batman costumes, books, etc. Unfortunately, there were often a series of "supernatural" occurrences with clothes left in the hanging zones. They and other washable items were said to come to life, walk off the lines and disappear into the dark corridors where we assumed they roamed from room to room seeking their owners in a ghostly fashion. Anyway, I was faced with the prospect of washing some of my clothes to hang out in the communal outdoor laundry area while praying fervently like other students that I would return and still find them. But on the fateful day in question, there was a difference. You see, I had just purchased a pair of very lovely white sneakers, and these apples of my eye were meant to be with me forever, or at least till I got tired of them. Anyway, I had worn them once to attend a lecture, and the inconsiderate ground had shown its utter disdain for the apples of my eye by allowing some dust to mar their dazzling perfection. I could not bear to see stains on them, so I resolved to clean the outsides of the sneakers with some soapy water and put them in the communal sun zone for appropriate drying. In this matter, however, I was determined to lock down any attempt to spiritualize my sneakers. Hence, after washing them, I put them on a nice patch of cement very close to the washing lines and sat down some meters away to monitor them and ensure that all users of the communal washing area maintained a social distance from them. About fifteen minutes after I put them out in the sun to dry and assorted clothes were waving in the breeze above them, I noticed a fellow emerge from one of the corridors into the drying zone, and he started pulling various clothing items off the lines. Now I was immediately suspicious as he was taking clothes from different parts of the line, and I wasn't sure they all belonged to him. However, in the spirit of calmness, I watched as he approached the point where my sneakers were, still grabbing clothes and hanging them on his left shoulder. He got to my sneakers, still pulling clothes off the line and then in an act of gentle academic symmetry and geometric progression, leaned down and scooped up my sneakers with one hand while still pulling clothes off the line with his other hand. As this happened and I took in a deep breath of righteous wrath, and I thought, you sneaky sneak, you are trying to sneak away with my sneakers. As he walked towards me like Saint Peter and Saint Paul, my rage built up. I am trying to articulate my feelings at that time and can only describe them as that feeling you feel when you feel a feeling that feels like a feeling that you have never felt before. I planned to sneak up on him like a sneak in the night and practice some Karate BUT, my main mistake was that my eyes showed my sense of purpose, and he glanced up and saw me standing watching him. Our man of God, Pastor Chris, has told us that the eyes are the windows to the soul so he must have looked through said windows and seen someone with a koboko…., sorry, whip. To his credit he continued walking in my direction with my sneakers in his hand then he reached up to pull a blanket from the line, and as the sheet came down, gently placed the sneakers on the ground the way freshly baked manna from heavens kitchen descended on the Ground before Moses. While I was marveling at the extraordinary feat of manual dexterity and magical sleight of hand, he disappeared into one of the corridors, leaving me to walk over and pick up the sneakers of, sorry, apples of my eye. As amazing to me as that event was, there was another that put that in the shade, so dear gentle reader, please allow me to elaborate. In Hall Four, you had the opportunity to cook your food using small cookers powered with gas, but more often, that staple of student life, the kerosene stove. Now, many students, to prevent asphyxiation, would put their cookers or Kerosene stoves in the already poorly ventilated corridors and proceed to produce various culinary masterpieces. Sometimes they were culinary without being masterpieces, and sometimes they were masterpieces without being culinary. Either way, they were eaten. Well, one of the fellows in the next room to mine decided to cook some black-eyed beans, and I walked past him as I returned from a lecture, just as he started cooking. As the stoves were generally in the corridor, said cook would have to emerge from his cubicle, pass through the door of his room into the hallway, and tend to his food, which was understandable. Anyway, as I said, I want to relate to you exactly what happened as I listened from my cubicle, which, being closest to the door of my room, had an outside window to the corridor. I heard his door open about twenty to thirty minutes after I lay down on my bed to ponder my lecture, and I listened to the sound of utensils. A few moments later, I heard the cook say with a loud voice in protest. "who put salt in my beans?" Now I know it wasn't me, especially as we were not in the same cubicle or the same room, but the question intrigued me, and I waited for an answer from one of the other rooms, but there was silence. Shortly afterward, I heard his door close. A few minutes later he came out again, I heard the lid of the pot of beans raised, obviously so he could taste the progress of his culinary attempts, and I heard his voice the second time, "who has put pepper in my beans?" Once again, there was silence, and he returned to his room, mumbling about who was playing games. A few minutes later, I heard him protest loudly. "who has added palm oil and crayfish to my beans?" Now at this time, I was fully engaged with the drama although I hadn't arisen from my bed, and I wondered how far he was going to go before standing watch over his beans as I did over my sneakers. Anyway, his door closed again. A few minutes later I heard him shout. "Who has stolen my pot of beans?" At this point, I came out and saw him in the corridor looking around frantically, and I asked him, weren't you watching your beans? He didn't answer but went off checking room to room for his beans and his pot. I returned to my room, not being a shareholder in his endeavor but aware that THIS WAS BEANS CAPTURE. About ten minutes later I heard him return and once again overcome with curiousity I left my room and knocked on his door. When he came to the door, I asked him, did you find your beans, to which he quietly replied yes with his face still a bit grey with shock. What happened? I asked, and he related the short story below to me. He told me that he started going from room to room down the corridor, checking in each cubicle for the person who must have stolen his pot and beans, and then he got to a particular room. On opening the door, he pulled aside the curtain to the first cubicle only to see four hefty fellows who he was not sure were students. However, they were seated around his pot, helping themselves to its contents with gusto. As he stood there staring and trying to form his indignant protest, one of them looked up and barked with a menacing voice, WHAT? At that moment, I suppose he understood why when the Children of Israel saw Goliath of Gath, they wanted to GO LIE AT his feet and beg for mercy. Hehehe. Anyway, he told me that he said to them in a quiet voice. "Please, when you finish, can you leave my pot by my door"? None of the four giants replied, they just returned to the pot while he returned to his room. Over the years, I have pondered this young man's mindset. You watched yourself being defrauded, but you didn't react until it was too late. This is why our man of God has sounded the alarm over several weeks to ensure we are not defrauded. The bible says in Hebrews 2:1 that we should give the more earnest heed to the things which we have heard, lest we should let them slip. This means what we have listened to in the last several weeks from our Man of God should be indelible in our hearts. Our Lord Jesus said in John 10:10 (PARAPHRASED); The thief cometh not but for to steal, kill and destroy. I am come that you may have something unstealable, unkillable and impervious to destruction. This gospel has given us a life that is unstealable, unkillable and impervious to destruction. Brethren, we have something to celebrate. Jesus said in Matthew 16:18, I will build my Church, and the gates of Hell will not prevail against it. Let us spread the word about this life. We are a Nation of Champions. 🔊🔔📣For more articles like this, please like and follow my Superuser account (@pcspeaks) Pastor Chuka Speaks, and Opt-in for notifications of new posts. I enjoy reading your comments, so please feel free to post. #PastorChukaSpeaks #YourLoveWorld #Whostolemybeans #CEGermany #WEZ4

THE VISION OUR MAN OF GOD PASTOR CHRIS HAD WHILE PRAYING IN 1988 During the IPPC 2019, as my man of God, Rev Chris Oyakhilome shared with us from the Book of Revelation on the Second Coming of Christ, I remember something he shared with us in Benin City, Nigeria way back in 1988. He told us of how while praying he had a vision in which he was standing on a huge balcony and looking down on the earth. He went on further to tell us that as he looked down on the earth below he saw explosions, war and destruction as the whole planet was locked in the global conflicts of the great tribulation. Pastor then told us that as he watched, a young man came up to him on the balcony and said to Pastor, thank you for saving me from that. All these years later, I have still not forgotten that vision and as Pastor shared during the IPPC on the feast to come in heaven after the rapture and the disastrous events that would be taking place during the great tribulation, I wondered if that young man would ever know that Pastor had seen him so many years ago. It brought back to me the reality that Pastor carried us all in his heart and that truly we have a divine destiny being a part of this ministry. Secondly, Pastor shared on Friday morning here at the IPPC about a certain meeting where there was Holy Ghost chaos during our camp meeting in 1991 and I remember it distinctly as I was in that meeting. I recall the amazing things I saw as the clouds of glory descended on the audience. People were getting healed right before our eyes, prophesying and having visions and glorious experiences in the spirit. So many people were slain in the spirit and there were often people dancing in the spirit. To see it was more than words could explain. At one point, dozens of people came on the stage and started dancing in perfect synchrony all doing exactly the same dance moves without any rehearsals. I remember that sometimes after the meetings in those days there would still be people slain in the spirit lying in different parts of the hall. Lifting them up didn’t help as they were lost in the spirit, you had to leave them till they were able to stand up by themselves sometimes hours after the service. There were so many supernatural manifestations in those days and amazing healings that time would fail me to list them all especially as many of those seeing such things had never seen them before. During the IPPC, Pastor came up to give some guidance on the prophetic and it brought to mind one of the reasons we as a ministry have remained so balanced and effective in the area of manifestations of the spirit as Pastor always took us back to the word reminding us that the spirit and the word always agree. Sometimes he corrected certain things in very funny ways. I recall in that camp meeting that Pastor came up on 2 occasions to explain to us what was happening with the various manifestations we were seeing and also to correct or instruct where necessary as he didn’t want us going into interesting excesses. As an interesting example, I recall sitting in the gallery because there was no space on the ground floor and people were packed so tightly up there on metal chairs. As the glory of God was in manifestation, a young man seated just a little way from me was praying and shouting very loudly which caught my attention. As he saw people falling under the power on the ground floor below, which I can only conclude from what I saw next, that he didn’t want to be left out but there was no space to fall intentionally due to the number of chairs. Suddenly I saw him spread his arms wide and he staggered forward pushing all the chairs in front of him away clearing some space then I noticed that he turned left and staggered forward clearing more chairs to the left, by this time I was interested and was watching. He then staggered to the right pushing more chairs away, staggered back arms still wide and pushed back the chairs behind him then he stood in the middle of the space he had cleared, shouted loudly and fell down. I wanted to give him an Oscar but had no trophies handy. As Pastor corrected such excesses when he spoke then and now, it gave me a certain orientation about the spiritual.  Pastor Sir, thank you for not just teaching us, demonstrating the character of the Holy Ghost , and imparting such divine grace to us, but also, always keeping us centred on the word. I love you Sir. #IPPC2019 #PastorChukaSpeaks #CEBerlin #WEZ4 For more articles like this please follow the Superuser account for Western Europe Zone 4

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I AM LOOKING FOR MY BUCKET, AGAIN?! In these temporary days of social distancing, or is it datstancing, I am reminded of a couple of events from my university days, which I would like to share with you gentle readers. As reported in some of my previous articles, the students in my University would occasionally take it upon themselves to protest about one government edict or another, the state of the country, the spiraling prices, or some other campaign. This time though, the decision was made to crack down on our exuberant protestations like a spoon on a hard-boiled egg, so Soldiers were deployed to "pacify" the Campus and return us to a state of academic bliss. As the news of the impending lockdown by the approaching troops loomed, the Campus went into a state of panic because we had heard stories of other campuses being surrounded the way light forms a corona around the Sun. So we made the socially acceptable plan to distance ourselves from the Campus and the plan went viral. Thus began the evacuation of the University as students packed their possessions to depart the Hostels and there was a steady flow of students leaving the Campus through one of the gates to the West which I believe was called the Ekosodin gate. At the same time, anxious parents and relatives drove to the Campus to assist with the rapid exodus. To aid in the smooth facilitation of the exodus for our brethren accomodated on Campus, especially the sisters, I and some of the senior leaders in the fellowship were instructed by the Pastor to visit the hostels. Our task was to ensure that they were ok with packing their stuff and vacating the Campus before the soldiers arrived. As news of the soldiers approaching the University spread, various people began to react in different ways. People ran through the corridors of the hostels shouting, carrying, or dragging suitcases. When we got to the ladies hostels, dozens of them were moving, pulling or urging people to help them with various personal possessions. As we headed down to one of the Hostel blocks in Hall Two with people running past us in the hallways, I noticed a particular lady in one of the corridors, and it was what she was doing that made me and the brother with me stop in wonder. In spite of all the panic around us, she was sitting on the floor of the corridor, holding a bucket and crying. The sight was so unusual that I couldn't just walk past and so I asked her if she was alright. She looked up at us and replied that everybody was running and that she was escaping too. I asked her if she had everything, and she replied that she needed to save her bucket. Now I appreciate buckets as much as the next man, and I am all for fundamental bucket rights as enshrined in the constitutions of some Universities. Still, I felt that she was unfairly biased where her bucket was concerned, to the detriment of other items I am sure she possessed like clothes, shoes, books, suitcases. You know, unessential but occasionally helpful stuff to take with you when you are leaving a dangerous environment. We tried to reason with her to go back to her room and pack properly, but she held onto the bucket and told us she had to look after it. We did try to reason further with her, but with the awareness that the soldiers were getting closer to the main gate, we had to leave her and carry out our original assignment. Fortunately, as we returned afterward, she was no longer in the corridor, and I would like to believe some of our arguments got through to her and that she was able to secure more than the bucket. We started going room to room checking on the sisters, and as most of them had already packed and gone, we got through most of the blocks quickly, then I arrived at the room of one of the sisters As I came in, I saw that while her roommates were frantically packing clothes, shoes, books, garri, wallpaper, lizards and everything around them into suitcases already overstuffed with stoves, dried fish and the assorted paraphernalia that made university life in the nineties such a marvellous experience, she was doing something else entirely. P.S. For you purists who don't know what Garri is, let's just say it's a Cassava based staple necessary for most students, especially starving ones. It comes in two basic color versions, yellow and white, with intermediate shades based on age and processing. Then you could proceed to the military-grade version of Garri used in atomic testing called KpoKpo Garri. Now, if, to make matters worse, you don't know what Cassava is, I would have to concede that you are a lost cause in this matter, and that I can't really help you any further on the road to Garric enlightenment. All I would then offer you in the interests of literary world peace is the word Tapioca. Nuff said!!!!! Textures and tastes for Garri vary from a smooth or grainy, slightly sweet powder-like taste to a culinary experience that's akin to putting a live electric wire with a mild voltage in your mouth. Can I get an Amen from all you students out there? Said product is often combined with additional elements like groundnuts, salt, and sugar for a tasty dessert but more often prepared with hot water for dunking in various exotic soups till said dunkers are overstuffed and roll over like porpoises. As for KpoKpo Garri, I don't feel qualified to comment on the usage or eatage of it, so I will leave that to those who might feel the need to comment on this article and enlighten you. Anyway, enough Garri distractions. Back to the story. The sister we had gone to visit had her suitcase open on a neighbors bed and had a pile of her clothes on the bed, which she would carefully fold and then throw across the room into the suitcase. After I rocked with laughter at this unseemly display of organized disorganization and silent pleas from her roommates to help her see sense, I asked her what she was doing, and she said she was packing. My response that the thrown clothes were landing in the suitcase unfolded didn't phase her. She made it clear that the state of the clothes in the suitcase didn't concern her as long as she carried out her responsibility, which was to fold them. This situation reminds me of what we have seen across the nations of the world in the last several weeks. Nicely folded policies by the so-called experts on Fiasco Viruses that, when applied or tossed out to the world, brought about only chaos and fear as they landed on cities, states, and nations disrupting previously organized systems. The arrival of her family members to take her away meant I was able to go on to other rooms, and finally, we herded all those sisters who had no relatives in the city to the Pastor's house to await the arrival of their family members. Later that evening, after we had successfully beaten a retreat from the Campus and the approaching soldiers and the military vehicles roared through the hallowed precincts of our University, we were horrified to discover that two of the sisters had gone missing. Apparently, the excitement of seeing real soldiers marching around the Campus was just too great an opportunity to miss, and they wanted a closer look at the exciting sights, which necessitated them sneaking away from the Pastors house in the middle of the night. Fortunately, we were able to catch up with them before the adventure became a minusventure. All those events showed me that people react to fear or the threat or opportunity for fear in different ways. Job said in Job Chapter 3:25-26 The thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me. I was not in safety; neither was I quiet, yet trouble came. Many think that talking of their fears would make the fears go away, but that's like waving stagnant meat at a fly expecting the fly to say no thanks, I am watching my diet. Fear is something that the believer has one response to. Rejection. It is not to be reasoned with, accommodated, or fed. It has no consideration for the life of its host and seeks only the host's destruction. Here are ten attributes of fear: Fear inhibits rational thought. Fear creates destructive images stronger than any physical image. Fear brings with it torment, the expectation of looming disaster, failure or even death. Fear actually causes damage to its victim by releasing toxins into the body and destroys the immunity of the body. Fear weakens resolve, purpose, confidence and vision. Fear makes it hard to function in and by the love of God. Fear is one of the greatest robbers of destiny in history. Fear is an enemy; that's why God tells you, fear not. Perfect love casts out fear 1 John 4:18. Satan loves fear because it makes a victim of a victor. Here are ten attributes of faith: Faith enables effective thought. 2 Timothy 1:7 Faith creates constructive and creative images stronger than any physical image. 2 Corinthians 5:7 Faith brings peace and the expectation of a greater future. Philippians 4:6-7 Faith repairs the body.  Proverbs 4:20-22 Faith strengthens resolve, purpose, confidence, and vision. Ephesians 3:12 Faith brings you confidence in the love of God. 1 John 4:18 Faith takes you to your destiny. Faith is your victory 1 John 5:4 Faith works by love 1 John 4:18 God loves faith because it makes a victor of a victim. God bless you 🔊📢🔔 For more articles like this, please like and follow my Superuser account (@pcspeaks) Pastor Chuka Speaks, and opt-in for notifications of new posts. I enjoy reading your comments, so please feel free to post. #PastorChukaSpeaks #FearIsanEnemy #CEGermany #WEZ4

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