The meat and the eatery. The myth and the mystery.

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

image

The morning came, after a night spent wrapped around each other’s warm arms. Unaware of ongoing proceedings as day broke, he stayed yet asleep; in the same bed which played host to the many before him.

Her tiptoeing did little to make sure he stayed in, still sleeping like a child, rocked to sleep by the caring hands of a loving mother, the night before.

The morning came, after a night well spent in each other’s arms. The dawning of day beconed, as a now sober but  gentle sleeper arose.  He sets gaze upon one, who already was set to depart. The walls of  the room, in which they both were once consumed by passion, and in locking lips greeted his morning.

Good day you: a serene quirky voice referred to him. I hope your eyes have not seen the myths beyond the mysteries of my ageing self?

Little or none of that my princess.  Little or none I promise you.

Well then; good you’re up already. Shall I be helped with this little zip, stuck right where my hands can not reach?

At your service your gorgeousness but first; where do I begin to appreciate your kindness? There’s not much I can give that you already do not own…

Sparkles lit up her brazen face. Her smile poured forth like a fountain of slippery jewels, as she replied softly: gifts are not every thing my  dear.  I am happy I already have every thing you can not give.

But, she bothered not to mutter the whole truth into his earing, as her gold laden hands, freed his hold from upon her coat.

O yes I should be happy she thought to herself yet again. I already have everything you can not give; yourself  included.

Only in a few days though; she continued quietly. Only in a few days, will it dawn upon your conscience, that you have been the  meat, and here has been the eatery.

*Oi ti mor meh meh…
(Meaning, save your sweet words, you are not the Hunter. You are the hunted.)

what separates me from God. Disbelief?

Tags

, , , , , ,

wpid-20130402_164739.jpgFor all these years that church made me believe I wasn’t a christian. I just go there having a form of Godliness but denying the power thereof. I’m hardly ever without sin though. I don’t even have proof God actually does exists. I just believe. Yet something keeps pulling me towards being committed to the ministry of Christ. Doing more than just saying amen!

All these years, what has held me back; what has hindered my total commitment to the love of doing Christ’s work has been my doubts. 15 years now and I’m here still trying to decide where my loyalties lie. Wether they be with my doubts or with my beliefs. I’m still asking why I can’t trust God about my doubts. And why I shouldn’t trust him about my beliefs.

A few months back, I met a man. He pastors a congregation not far from where I live. Peter Lewis is a soft spoken man of the word. And I was happy to learn from him. But he busted my bubble. He embarrassed my expectations. He made utterances that triggered my demons. Peter Lewis of Cornerstone Church drew my attention to very obvious facts; such that made me pause in reasoning.

“The bible never disguised the failings of its heroes. Abraham stooped to deceit to ensure his safety. Peter denied. David lusted”. Even the three hebrew boys doubted God in their strongest ever display of trust in him. Daniel 3:18But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

Ha! My spirit cried. My soul begged God’s forgiveness. Suddenly it dawned on me. The presence of FAITH is not the absence of doubt. What makes me a christian is the presence of faith. Not the absence of doubt. Yes I doubt. But still I believe. I started to realise what mattered has always been where my loyalty swayed. Taking sides with my doubt isn’t my job as a believer. If I can trust Jesus with my faith. I can trust him about my doubts.

Sometimes, I don’t know which is stronger. My doubts or my beliefs. Each time I had reasons to think about it, I ended up trying not to get confused. I’ve always believed there is a God.  I’ve always doubted it too. But are my beliefs not meant to be believed; and my doubts meant to be doubted? Most times we doubt our beliefs. We believe our doubts. Worse still, we fail to realise that God’s place is in the centre of our lives. Not our doubts.

If like me, you have doubts. Don’t give in to it. Keep searching. God will find you just where you are.

Me; I soak this fragile heart I have, in the blood of Jesus. Every of its weakness is transformed into strength. Every trembling of its standing is stabilised into firmness.

I choose to learn and accept that the presence of doubt isn’t the absence of faith. Have  doubts if I must. But nurse that faith. What makes me a Christian is the presence of faith; not the absence of doubt. I know that for as long I  am on this side of heaven, I will always have both. But my doubts from henceforth seizes to be a justification for my unbelief or not totally surrendering to the will of HE in whom I have entrusted my life. 

Join me. Believe! 

yet to unfold

Tags

, , ,

 

 

29 January 2010 at 19:49

 

In this part of the world, not too far from beneath the scourging hot sun
Each day is a struggle against the odds, despite resilience, tenacity and focus

As though things were only meant to get worse, the years bring with them less joy than the previous
And we doubt if or not we’ve been cursed, as days feel heavier under the weight of their cause; regardless of religion, simplicity or pulse.

Normalcy is so rare and precious
Almost nothing is without the big pause. Courtesy the Nigerian factor
Electricity, water and transport; Education, rights and comfort
All have gone off course, despite the prayers, patience and hopes

But amidst these many woes.
We have failed to remain on hold
We have kept our gaze on growth
Although our best is yet to unfold
We remain glued to achieving one goal

A Nigeria pure and whole.

Make me believe you more

image

Make me believe you more
Make me know you are my all.

Make me behave you more
Make me Know you are my law.

Make my soul believe your word
Make my heart know you are Lord
The One and only true God.

Make me condone you more
Make my thirst for you endure

Rephrase my thoughts
Make my life define your works

Restrict me
Make my heart contain your love

Protect me
Dip my flesh in the depths of your blood

O! Thou balm of Gilead
Ye who the sick besort
Heal me of this sin sick world
And grant me grace to tow my cross,
Until this life in me is no more.

Amen!

…and I thought

image

He turned water into wine for Some’
The wine needed pouring.

He made 5 loafs feed thousands
the multiples still needed sharing..

When he healed Bartemaeus
Nothing needed doing. He saw

when he raised Lazarus. He lived

He parted the red sea. It still needed Crossing.

If You are a christian cos you go to church. God’s grace only rubs off on your life by virtue of his presence.

Your life is only a reflection of your privilege not an image of His greatness.

Until you experience God as an individual, as opposed to being a group member.

Until you relate personally with HE who teaches all good things.

You might never stop needing a Moses before your red seas are crossed.

…and I thought these things. Having reached an oasis in my own wilderness.

Farewell numbness.

image

Relentlessly, I am wrapped in frivolous allures as inspiration stands affar off.

My heart struggles to find her source as numbness deprives it of breath. 

The pursuit of happiness (e.g. Money, fate and comfort) has taken its toll.

Alive but lifeless.  I am but a lump without leaven…

Remind me o good Lord
To stand fast in the the liberty wherewith Christ hath made me free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage this world bestows.

Originally posted on theverydose:

Like a ship in the midst of a ragging storm,
Did his feet sink into this desert sand without form.

Deeper through the thrive of each despairing step,
Uncertain if his soul will taste the glory of divine help.

He had one petition, a petition for solid ground,
yet all that was; was sinking sand.

His voice echoed the seclusion of a dying man,
Handicapped, like a football coach with a 13 match ban.

“Oh!!!” he cries, “here comes the wind again”
Slowly and calmly rising, as up a sliding plain.

It hit him harder than a truck running through a wobbly wall;
It was a mighty ocean tide, that couldn’t wait to fall.

“Fresh water, springing out of sinking sand” He said in the dismay
of his realization that indeed, No Potter can mold life out of clay!

View original

Sometimes; just pray…

Tags

, , , , ,

Sometimes, we underestimate the power of crying. Like when we lose loved ones; we cry with ease. So that our hearts can find relief. Yet, when it comes to other things – we bottle up the emotions.

One evening, a young man sat there in the caves. Cold, hungry and weary. Perhaps offended too. HE wrote these words in desperation.

…Psalm 10 : 1 Why standest thou afar off, O Lord? Why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?

: 5 thy judgments are far above out of his (the evil one’s) sight: as for all his enemies, he puffeth at them.

Just the same way, I sat somewhere a while back asking these questions.

Why has it taken you so long to have mercy on innocent children suffering hunger and starvation in the deserts of Africa?

Why has it taken you so long to have sympathy on helpless mothers, loosing sons and treasured husbands in the plains of Somalia and Arabia?

Why O Lord? Why? Why did it take David 10 years to ascend his throne?

Why did it take 40 years to reach Canaan? Why did it take you 7 days to make the worlds?

Why has it taken you forever to hear my cry?!

It felt awkward to realise I was crying.  But I was; and what helped me more than the tears, was the fact that someone somewhere in record, had been through rough paths.

Sometimes, knowing these things can help relief the pain of journeying the same route. When you cry out to God, your soul lets go of toxic inhabitants. Your mind grabs relief.

Don’t hesitate to pray.

Whether you say it straight from the heart or read it out of a tract, what matters is letting your heart interact with a friend who transcends the physical.

Image

Heavenly father, you who made me from clay

I come before you, in awe of your name

Thou art full of grace and I of dismay

Revive me; that I might sing only your praise

Thou heavenly father, you who hath made man from clay

Grant me the grace to cling to your ways

Purge me of sins, that the Adam in me may fritter away

Restore me; that only in you might I have faith

O heavenly one, you who made us from clay

Give us the love for those who your servants keep at bay

Whether they be frail, straight or gay.

Leave us not to dwell with our shame.

Show us how you are God of all

Whether we be Jew, atheist or not

And above all, bless me with strength to consecrate and always obey.

AMEN!!

Calm Down

Calm down! Caaalmmm DaaawwwnnnN!! was what I emphasised

As I stood behind him screaming like an ardent crusader

All I needed was for him to stop, but then I couldn’t afford to put myself in arms way.

Frank!! She’s dying. Be reasonable and let loose bikonu

But the angry fellow would not desist

O yes I know! She must die today, he affirmed

Poorly she struggled

Managing to mutter before a pause; HELP ME

Obviously exhausted;  Her body spoke a language

One which could only translate to; “helplessly in need of mercy”

Yet; the rage in his eye was a spectacle

His eyes were popping out like testicles

The grip around her neck by now was a perfect tentacle

Draining the little life left in her as though it were via a vivid receptacle

Please!!! help me uncle, she slurred again tearfully…

FRANK!! I exclaimed vengefully

He navigated his gaze towards me. Perhaps to weigh the potency of my violent threat

With a look of disgust upon my peeved ambiance, he softened his grip compassionately

I heaved a sigh of relief synonymous to her desperate gasp for much needed oxygen

But; within that split second I thought as ample enough – as though consumed by a legion of .untamed spasms; who were displeased, and completely provoked,  I attacked his panicky demeanor viciously and with intent. Shattering the threat radically against his bald head, hoping he fell to the earth like a vegetable.

Callus murderer I yelled at him regrettably. But Frank had helped himself with a fragment of my fallow weapon.

I saved her life. But then; he took his own.

back at me!!

I didn’t know how to explain myself to Philip.  He would not just believe; each time I tell him how he’s better off selling cement (in Naij), to starting afresh an immigrant.

So I thought to give him an idea of how the pictures more often available on the web can be misleading via e-mail. But he seemed to have had a better perspective of that idea. Here’s what transpired…

 

Me

Guy!! Don’t blame this pictures when you arrive.

This is the shit hole you dream of.

Philip 

Foolish boy! Don’t blame this picture when you return.


This is the paradise that surrounds it.

besides, if this is you…

I beg na who com be this? James Bond??

Lesson learnt.

Don’t ever discourage your friends. Some of them are not nice.

Surely!!! without a shadow of doubt, they will embarrass you.

CHAI!!! THANK GOD FOR MY LIFE O!

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 70 other followers