Vegangelisten Nat

Barrabas Means Son Of The Father 🌱✨ Drawing by Dmitrijs Botvinjevs that inspired this blog today  3.april 2026 🇷🇺🇵🇱🇩🇰👇 There is a moment in the Gospel story that has always struck me deeply. The crowd stands before Pilate, and two men are presented: Jesus, and Barabbas. One is innocent, the other guilty. And yet the crowd cries out for Barabbas to be released. But then I learned something that made this scene even more powerful. The name Barabbas comes from Aramaic: Bar means son Abba means father So Bar-Abba literally means “son of the father.” In that moment, the people chose one “son of the father” to go free, while the true Son of the Father took his place. Jesus stood there, silently accepting what was happening. He stepped into the place of the guilty. He took the place of Barabbas. And in a deeper sense, He took our place too. “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” Jesus did not come to continue a system of endless sacrifice. He came to fulfill it. He becam...

NASA, the Serpent, and the Deception of Our Times — Why I Choose God’s Truth Over the World’s Lies There was a time I believed in it all. The moon landing… The space shuttles… The glamorous space missions. I believed it. Because the world taught me to. But the more I searched for the world’s knowledge… The more confused I became. Every answer opened ten more questions. Science twisted itself in circles, and instead of clarity, I was left in doubt, emptiness, and frustration. I started noticing the strange things. The name NASA , which sounds almost exactly like “nasha” (נָשָׁא) — the Hebrew word for deceived . The same word Eve used when she said, “The serpent deceived me.” And their logo? A serpent’s tongue, hidden in plain sight. Even the white circling shape in the logo itself — it looks like a serpent wrapping around. It wasn’t just a coincidence. It was a pattern — a sign of the serpent’s fingerprints all over this world system. Genesis 1:6 says God made the fir...

The Little Town with the Morning Bread - childhood dream's ✨🥖🌱 There was a time, long ago, when I was a child — maybe seven, maybe eight — when my world felt strange and heavy. I had just come to Denmark, everything unfamiliar, everything cold in a way I couldn't explain. But at night, when I closed my eyes, I would slip into "another life" sometimes. In this life, I lived in a small town that felt warmer than anywhere I knew. The streets were narrow, the walls sun-kissed like old Italian houses — though I never really knew if it was Italy. Maybe it was just a dream of peace. And in that town, I had a father. Not the father I would later meet in real life — the sailor, the wanderer, the man I barely knew, who carried storms instead of bread. No, this father was a baker. He owned a small bakery, waking before the sun to knead dough with hands that worked with love, not violence. Sometimes I would wake in the dream and walk to his bakery, the smell of ...

World War 2 Ended in 1989... If You Ask Some Poles Poles celebrate their freedom mainly on  June 4th , which marks the anniversary of the  first partially free elections in 1989 —a peaceful turning point that led to the fall of communism in Poland. This date is often seen as the true beginning of modern Polish democracy.* Danish and Russian translations 🇩🇰🇷🇺👇👇 I’m from Poland, and I grew up with my grandmother, Agnieszka Szmagliska. I lived with her from my birth in 1990 until I was almost seven years old. I was the only child in the household since my mother had already moved to Denmark with her other children—how she did it, I don't know, but I remember something about a marriage, so it might have been through that or possibly by other means. During those early years, I remember the poor post-war times. Most Poles were poor, and everything still felt like it was being rebuilt. It felt as though the Second World War hadn’t truly ended for us until 1989. In schoo...