Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

It shall come to pass
That as long as men pursue themselves
In the pursuit of happiness
In the pursuit of dominance
In the pursuit of gratification
That they shall only destroy one another
Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

For the white man shall drain the black man's land
The black man shall sell his brother for some silver coins
The Christian shall preach their Jesus as long as his coffers are full
The Muslim shall use his coffers to destroy the Jew
The feminist shall denigrate the man
The man shall subjugate the woman
The father will provoke his child to wrath
The child will rebel against his father
Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

The irie man shall harvest his leaves
The Mexican man shall sell these leaves
The american man shall kill for these leaves turned to powder
And some unknown teenager shall acquire a masterful addiction
And smite his veins with needles
And lay in his couch for hours
And drown out every other hint of life
Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

The media man shall broadcast the good news of sex
And shall invite the poor Hispanic to bare her body
Even the desperate black girl shall come
With her white sisters as anchors of this salvation
And men shall read this gospel
And empty their loins
And lose their mind
Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

Indeed the weak and even the strong
Shall not suffer this unfair tension
And the gun will seduce the host
Albeit it shall be the bomb
Worse still the gas that kills
And many shall fall at their feet
And cow in despair
When the winds and pungent smell of death
Fill their eyes with tears and mouths with wails
Until there is no ear to hear the prophets.

As long as men shall pursue themselves
There can only be one end,
And this end with a scythe appears
But its forms and cloth are a varied lot
It will come as famine, as disease
As the wars that ruin fertile lands
It will come as murder in the streets
Dissension in the bungalow homes
And there will be division even unto death
And no one will be able to use their ears to hear the prophets.

Sad feelings

Lately there has been an uproar in the circles of Christians. It seems that finally a people who might have been afraid to speak their mind have finally come out of the darkness and have had their minds known. A little while ago, something like the size of a man's hand came out of the sea and in a short time it has overtaken the world like a storm, at least the Christian world and its affiliates.

The gospel of Grace.

Up until the gospel of grace, Christianity was a precinct of people who had been born in it; it was pretty straightforward. Baptism, confirmation and then maybe if you were a Catholic, needed a rosary. It would seem that the knowledge of God was a reserve of the very spiritual, those who were fond of God. In fact if you were one of such, you might need to go to Theology school and get ready to live a life of holiness. You might lead a church, become a nun or a brother. Generally, there was a general knowledge of God and then a specific knowledge which those fond of God had the privilege of keeping.

It was okay. Everything was fine if you paid your allegiance; that is, went to church on Sunday, belonged to either Mothers'  or Fathers' Union or had a Christian name or something that showed you were respectful of God. Grace was unknown. Grace could have easily been the doctrine of demons at the time.

Then there was a movement that bred the "Bazukufu" (The Sober). These carved out for themselves a name. They were in this world but not of it. They would not touch it's things, engage in its things, have pleasure in any of its things. They were clearly distinct. They might have been a bit proud but in the area of holiness as judged by us, they were indeed spotless. One school can be noted for having such a nature, and it is a girls' only school. However, most of its adherents were at the time of the coming of grace aged. It has been long since I saw a Muzukufu, the last one I saw was a teacher of Literature when I was in High School.

Then the new fiery "Balokole" came along. At the start, they mostly preached hell and destruction and a great many of us got swept into that movement for fear of losing our souls. For a time, our lives were lived carefully, we might say something bad and be hit by a car having not repented and go straight to hell. Our lives were supposed to be exceptional. Shunning everything of the world and following Christ. For a time this worked out into public holiness and also public contempt for those who were not of us. The relationship between Balokole  and the world was one of a judge looking down offering a pardon if they met some demand. It was the same between older Balokole and younger ones. Not that this is true for all.

Then the small cloud.

They said we were forgiven. "2Co 5:19  To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. "
They said God was not angry. They said we could serve Him without fear. They told us we were free.

Brother, sister, you should have been there. There were so many reactions from those who heard it. Most of the clergy in the religious systems called it all sorts of names. It was a lie. It was mockery. Slowly it turned into cheap grace and then when there was an overwhelming appeal from it, it was embraced.

The sinner who loved to sin rejoiced! He said to himself, finally, no judgement, no price to pay, I can go and live as long as I am forgiven. This one was a bit worse off in my judgement than the earlier religious system where you needed to perhaps pay a tithe, go to church on Sunday or do something to appease God. This one had reins removed. Or that is what we thought.

There was the righteous brother who felt wronged. Who felt he had done a lot of things for the Lord and that how come he would share with his unworthy brother who has not earned it? He sounded like Jonah. He sounded like the brother to the prodigal son. He continued his work but for a long time had bitterness. However, who knows, God loved Him too enough to remind Him it was okay.

Then there was the brother bearing burdens who could not imagine this is what God thought of him! He finally saw no more reins. No more shackles. No more reason to be afraid. He could walk ahead with complete assurance that God was with Him. Emmanuel.

So much happened when the cloud came.

And now it has been raining a long time. And many are fed up of the rain. The cloud is getting its original fame. A doctrine of demons. A half preached heresy. An unnecessary deception. An invention of latter day sinners. Something we have not been taught by our Fathers.

I am saddened. For true freedom has come and while has opened the door has exposed our true hearts.

Luk 5:32  I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.
Mat 5:1  And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came unto him:
Mat 5:2  And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,
Mat 5:3  Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Mat 5:4  Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Mat 5:5  Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
Mat 5:6  Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
Mat 5:7  Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Mat 5:8  Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
Mat 5:9  Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
Mat 5:10  Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Mat 5:11  Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.
Mat 5:12  Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. 

I am saddened for when we heard of the cloud, we mistook it for something it is not. However, we shall not stay in this sadness, but shall rejoice that He who began the work, shall complete it.

Selah. And Hallelujah to the only God who makes us stand.

Thoughts on Zimmerman and Trayyvon

There is no dividing wall of hostility in Christ Jesus. There is no Jew or Gentile, no male or female, no black or white. No Zimmerman or Trayyvon.

"Eph 2:13-14 But now in Christ Jesus you who were once afar off are made near by the blood of Christ. For He is our peace, He making us both one, and He has broken down the middle wall of partition between us,"

We are hurt by people, their selfish actions, their pride; we hurt people the same way. There are some actions that make forgiveness a hard pill to swallow because we are truly hurt. We must remember Christ in these situations for in the cross, He unites the offender and the offended and gives them life the same way He united God and Man. Only if we could come to the cross!

"2Co 5:16-21  So as we now know no one according to flesh, but even if we have known Christ according to flesh, yet now we no longer know Him so. So that if any one is in Christ, that one is a new creature; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.

And all things are of God, who has reconciled us to Himself through Jesus Christ, and has given to us the ministry of reconciliation;  whereas God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not imputing their trespasses to them, and putting the word of reconciliation in us.

Then we are ambassadors on behalf of Christ, as God exhorting through us, we beseech you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.  For He has made Him who knew no sin, to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him. "

The Zimmerman verdict has surely hurt many African Americans and Africans the world over because a white man has walked free after he murdered a black teenager but we who now see the world in the eyes of Christ must not take the sides of race, but  be found in the love of Christ, where we are forgiven, where we can forgive, where we are comforted, where we can comfort. Where we can receive love, where we can give love.

Selah.

Of stories telling other stories.

Stories teach many lessons. Most stories though usually without knowing it, speak of the One whose story we all are in: Romance - we speak of His love for us, for His church; action - we speak of His jealousy and constant contending for us; dramas - we speak of His patience through our unfaithfulness and perplexity; horrors - we affirm we have an enemy; comedy - we remember His joy is our strength; animations - we dream of the final day when finally we shall see Him.

Many stories inadvertently speak of our Lord, so I go beyond the story and consider the everlasting story of a community of beings who once hovered over the waters trying to find a home; of a one being yet three with one who set in place a home for one they would make out of their own image. Of a being whom they desired live in them and they in Him. Of an enemy who stole their creation away, of a temporary setback in their quest for a home.

Then we see endless stories all leading to the day one of them would live as the creation and restore all things to order and bring about a unity of them and the being they created.

Many of us are groaning for a saviour, someone to restore us to the Father, to the community of God. If we could but recognise His name! He is not Superman, or Captain Planet, or Iron Man, or Romeo, or Okwonkwo, or Rubashov or Golola Moses or whatever our simple minds have named our heroes - His name is Yeshua - The Lord Saves, Emmanuel - God is with us and He longs for a people He calls home.

He speaks all the time. He might shouting out His Son's name through that story you're reading. I pray you hear.

Selah. Amen.

The poem you are.

They say I write too much about love
And not just too much about it but too often,
That I have no time for other pursuits
Like money and health and God,

That I risk ending up a dreamer
With a lofty castle in the air but without throne
A man whose thoughts look as divine as a peacock
But which never lift off to fly, very much like the dear bird.

They say I should take it easy, calm down, breathe a little,
That I should not again put my heart to the test,
They tell me , they tell me lots of things

The man with the white collar and the long beard
Walks up to me and says
"Son, do not awaken love before it's time,"

Mama tells me with earnest voice
"You can't hurry love,
No you just have to wait"

The boys say
"Love won't put bread on the table,
Work your behind off man".

And I wish I could believe them.
I wish you could let me believe them
But no.....

You just have to say those words the way you do,
Speak as a proud linguist yet at the same time
As a delighted princess who chats with her mother.

I mean look how you make your steps
As though you were ascending a throne
And yet at the same time were walking with friends

There are jewels in your eyes and they are yet to have a name
When they look at mine eyes, with your day breaking smile
I am weak to think I can put off love.

See you're a poem in a person, right from your body to your spirit,
And my dear woman, I cannot lie to you no more than to self
There's so little  you could do to discourage me from love.

Your mind is a treasury of wisdom,
You rivet me with tales, and proverbs and riddles
You have learned the word that said, in all your getting get wisdom.

Your spirit a force enriched and enlivened
Dead to what we once gloried in
Alive to an eternal King, you the daughter of a princess

Your beauty, I have no brushes to paint
Yet one look at you and you become
All the muse I will ever need.

Can I put off love then, dear woman
Whose very being draws mine from body to spirit
How shall I not love you after reading a poem
As wholesome as you?

Roots

The church in Corinth had "serious" sins. Look, there were divisions, a man was sleeping with his father's wife, there was carousing, gluttony...name it! Paul's antidote  to this is that "don't you know you're in Christ?" In essence, he reveals the Christ in them.

What's "strange" is that in Corinth, there was a free flow of the gifts of the Spirit! I mean look at 1 Cor 12... tongues, healing, wisdom, knowledge..name it. Why wasn't their behaviour hindering the flow of the Spirit? (???)

It's like Paul's concern was that they didn't know who they were!

But guess who Paul calls "bewitched" and "foolish". The church in Galatia. Why? For they were trying to be absolved by works of the law in this particular case - circumcision.

However, even in this church the Spirit was flowing but they seemed to be crossing over to another gospel. He asks - Gal 3:5  Then He supplying the Spirit to you and working powerful works in you, is it by works of the law, or by hearing of faith?

Both these churches had the Spirit flowing. However the common issue according to Paul is  that they were departing from their roots and identity. Corinth's actions were forgetful of their identity in Christ. Galatia's faith was forgetful of the gospel of Christ.

Now for us, God have mercy. We are grappling with going back to the roots. Going back to who we are. Because if we do not know who we are in Christ, we shall be caught in the same error both these churches had, one of living according to the flesh, the other of believing according to the flesh and falling into strife, divisions and exalting everything else apart from Christ.

The root and identity is Christ. May He be formed in us! Colossians 2.

Selah.

Think on these things

What if our minds shut up for a moment
Put all our endless bickering and muttering to the noiselessness of a tomb
What if we stopped pursuing that next idea, formula, strategy,goal
Stopped riding that thought wave, interrupted that circuit of impulse
And allowed a moment of silence.

Not just me, I mean all of us.

What if, we all let our minds be still,
...and let our hearts speak.

Motive, reason, lust, ground out beyond a crust
To the edge of a space of innocence
Where the dimmed light and silenced voice of peace,
Patience, mercy and kindness could be given a chance to rise again.

We might understand that beneath layers of Gucci,
Or perhaps when there were no layers,
That the blood flowing in these vessels did not know of our
Motive, or our hatred, or our jealousy or our plotting
The blood just flowed.

It did not know of knives being lunged into chests,
Triggers releasing copper from fiery barrels
Words maiming and failing kinsmen, sons and friends
Turning them into foes, assassins, enemies of the state
The blood we all share turning against each other because of
What our minds told us they saw.

They saw short, tall, weak, strong, stupid, clever
Ugly, beautiful, large, small etcetera
Spurred by want, selfishness, pride, arrogance, ego
All words that spoke but did not tell.

A thousand years of philosophy
And we still cannot learn the simple lessons
Still cannot love my neighbour as myself
Especially if he looks different, smells different, thinks different
Still cannot turn the other cheek, because the pain hurt
Still cannot give before I receive because what will I give with?

A thousand years of thought and ideas and we can't figure out
That the solution to the problem does not begin with the mind
But is hid in the boiling mass
Of red muscle called heart.

We forgot that out of the heart flow the issues of life
Life never knew a philosophy,a religion, a dogma of rights or wrongs
Life was never set in stone
Life moved, breathed, had a being.

Life needed a change of heart.

Life needed Him for He was life, He is life
And in Him we live, we breathe and move and have our being
And we cannot deny Him
For when we do, we deny our own life
Emmanuel- God with us.

Perhaps when our hearts have a change of life
Or lives can have a change of heart
Then our minds can attune anew to this life
For the old life is decayed, rotting
With fresh ideas of inventing restlessness and death
And only the new life can let the mind be still
And think on these things

"whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things."
(Phil 4:8)

Selah.

Masquerade Party

Black flowing robes, noses held high in the air
Choreographed movement, noble gait
Everything is as it should be
Every one is what they want to be.

My smile is indelibly carved into my face
You should never see my frown,
Everything is as it should be
Utopian fantasy as we tango in this ballroom.

I change dancer with similar expression
A simple sway into another's embrace less intermission,
Tango goes on in this perfect world.
But my time's up at this party.

Behind the smile on this plastic face
Flow agitated rivers down from the centre of my soul
Deep in the recesses of my core
A fiery churning ensues.

I tire of masks, lost emotions, unsaid words
I tire of curtseys and courtesy and propriety
I tire of Monday morning suits and Friday t shirts
I tire of the mask that was given to me.

I have a volcano building inside me
There is a geyser about to burst forth
This masquerade just won't do
This hypocrite's act is just about done

My time's up at this party.

Journey

I cannot get peace from everything else except you, dear Lord. Why do I try to find it elsewhere then? People? Activities? Places?

Trust is experiential. Faith is always new.

Looking for validation everywhere else except you, strengthen my spirit dear Lord, strengthen the man within.

I cannot trust you. But I must believe you. You know what's good for me. Sometimes I am in a rush, sometimes I delay, but I know you want me Lord, to keep in step.

Put my self to the cross, let your Spirit take the lead.

Nothing without the Father

Hello friends, I have a few things I wanted to share with us from the time I spent with church this evening.

It has never really struck me about Christ being always in the Father as it did today. Everything Jesus did, He did through His Father. In essence, Jesus never healed anyone, it was God who was healing through Jesus.

Joh 5:19  Then Jesus answered and said to them, Truly, truly, I say to you, The Son can do nothing of Himself but what He sees the Father do. For whatever things He does, these also the Son does likewise. 

Joh 5:30  I can do nothing of My own self. As I hear, I judge, and My judgment is just, because I do not seek My own will, but the will of the Father who has sent Me. 

It made more sense to me when Christ on the cross wailed saying - "My God My God why have you forsaken me?" He wailed for in that moment, His oneness with God, His Father was no longer there. The life of the Father was no longer in Him. He mourned being a moment without His Father's indwelling life!

I think of it now and wonder, why don't we wail the same way? Are we living life each moment from the life of Christ?

Are we truly hemmed in? Do we abide? Is the life we live ours or that of Christ? Joh 15:5  I am the Vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, the same brings forth much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing. 

I dearly pray as John prayed - Joh 3:30  He must increase, but I must decrease. 

That we stop living life led by formulas, equations, shadows, laws, emotions, notions, desires and start living directly off the indwelling life of Christ.

That we can learn to wait upon this Lord. Live His life instead of ours. That we can come to this point - Gal 2:20  I have been crucified with Christ, and I live; yet no longer I, but Christ lives in me. And that life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith toward the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself on my behalf. 

For we are nothing without Him as Christ is nothing without the Father.

Shalom.

 For I have died, and my life is hid with Christ in God. [Col 3:3]

Fathers and Sons

I had a very interesting evening yesterday. It was my nephew's birthday party and we had invited some kids from the neighbours over.

Children are quite a handful! And they are also quite different from each other. The quiet ones, the noisy ones, the shy ones, the proud ones. One thing that is sure, a little time spent with each gives you an idea on how to individually deal with each.

I had the opportunity to be called "Teacher". Not that it is something I aspire to but it was quite interesting while I was. I led the kids into several games; name games, cat and mouse games etc and I was quite spent at end of day.

I am not a father. I hope to be at one point; how soon? God knows.

In my culture, my brothers' children are as good as my children and so far, one can say I have two sons and a daughter, the latest being Nathan whose birthday we celebrated. Giving time to children while seemingly inconvenient does a lot to shape them and place them upon their destiny.

I asked one of my "sons" to always remind me to read him a Bible story. The first time I thought he would forget but yesterday, after all the festivities were done, he asked me to read. At this point he cannot readily do English but he tries and it is only a matter of time till he is good at it.

So I read, in the simplest ways possible the story of David the Lionhearted from Arthur S Maxwell's Bible Stories book. For now it would seem he knows that there was a war and the boy killed the giant. So boys who have God's help kill giants. This is the second time I am telling it. (Just now do I see the lesson for myself.)

I pray that by God's grace, this son of mine grows into these beautiful truths. I don't know how much time it will take, but if faithfulness is present I believe it will happen.

I am taking advice lately. From a lot of people but it is amazing how the advice which makes most meaning is that from men that are fathers. I have been dealing with some issues lately and yes talk to people about it but recently I talked to a father and the amount and quality of wisdom he presented me has given me a good amount of cud to chew on.

"There are no short-cuts" . He said. Yet all along I have been trying to use short cuts, pathways that have brought me to the common place of confusion again. When you hear a truth that cuts between flesh and bone you know it. And as he advised me on this issue, I sensed there was a route for healing.

I do not talk very often to him but when I do, I hear wisdom. Not sensationalism, but wisdom. He won't say much. He asks the right questions as an expert Doctor would to find out the problem and when he sees it, the rest is history.

I am thankful for sons, that are not mine, for opportunity to be a father but I surely thank God for fathers who have mentored sons, those that are theirs and those that are not theirs.

It is something not entered into by knowledge but I believe by the very heart that is cut after the cloth of the father in himself; Abba.

Pause.

Longing (Edited)

Razing through my mind
Are memories...
Serene meadows, big yellow sun flowers
Flashes of smiles chain me
I want more than intangible images.

Walks through the park at sunset
The sun hesitated to set-
When it did, the stars kept winking 
But my tummy is empty; my heart is starved
I want more than formless memories.

I need more than  blurred dreams
Dried rose petals,
More than long sleepless nights
More than the endless beat of rain upon corrugated heart.
I need more than the vapour of mystery love.

I long for the juice of fresh love
For the sweetness of a tender heart,
I do not need cotton candy- it is empty
I long for a heart that longs for mine
I long for a heart concentrated with true love.

Past pains rivet me, I'm writhing for an angel's touch
Longing for a soothing touch, a real smile, a honeyed kiss,
I am sure angels exist as devils do
And when you show up darling-
I want to spend my whole life with you. 

Nothing you find

See, you have found nothing valuable
It is all as good as stubble
No glory herein
And your actions do prove it.

Twenty weeks have passed here
And I have poured my libations-
Devotions seen and breathed
Actions now and tomorrow.

These you have looked upon
With grey and pink face
Black and white smirk
Devoid of direction.

Twenty weeks now set upon me
And I have not seen your Sun;
My libations still flowing
My prayers still chanted
Still you withhold your Sun.

Indeed, you have found no value;
For flowers, olive oil, whole grain have I poured,
Even the red blood and flesh that goes with it
You answer still with the black of night.

Trying to conceal

You sit,
Alone in the corner of the room
Looking out of the window
With your back to the conversation.

Your ears cannot pick up a sound
And your thoughts peal away in the recesses of your mind,
You have no care right now
Except that anvil in your chest...
(Its back to the conversation)

...And the hammer that beats upon it.
Yet you would that the sound muffle out,
That the silence of this stable
Can be as that of the grave.

But it hurts, with its bangs
It releases heavy pangs,
They cannot be dulled,
These sounds of burden.

Even though your tried, to conceal it, you tried,
You blew your nose, your flu-less nose;
And the sounds began to break
The pangs hurt the more,
Your anvil couldn't withhold it
And out came the tears.

Wasn't there then but I am now

Forgive me,
I knew but I did not care to care;
I did not invite consideration for a minute
To understand the kind of pain you were going through.

My eyes may have beheld the horror,
My ears hearing the screams,
But my heart seemed to slumber
In my own present safety.

Only now do I taste the bitterness
Of the memories that remain,
Oh that you would not remember,
Yet the images refrain.

Your words are as brief as an ode
Yet they raise this heart from the dead,
I wasn't there then
But I am now.

I will pray for you and the kin that you know
Ask the dear Lord, to send a comfort to your souls
You've been through the fire, indeed the valley of death
But the Shepherd has been with you, and will never go away.

 A Psalm of David.

Jehovah is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.  You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of Jehovah forever. 

De ja vu

You should have your own story. A unique story, different, separate, distinguishable from mine. I should be able to talk about you without referring to something or someone in the past or nearby. I should be able to refer to you sans the words like, as, ... I want to be able to tell a different story. To have  a unique history about you, independent of others.

A time comes when the small addictions of nostalgia need to be flushed down the drain; when hues, shades, scents and images that would have you reach for the bottle of remembrance and regret become totally fresh and lively. When everything becomes new, because of you, when everything is born again because of you. Dead to the past, dead to previous broken hearts, disappointments and the entire lot of baggage.

When there are no excuses because of what someone else did, or what you did not do. I should have my own story, you should have your own story. Coz 'nothing compares, nothing compares to you. [Sinead O'Connor]

I'm talking about something that does not simply ignore the past or pretend like nothing happened but when it  no longer means a thing, no longer makes your heart skip a beat, no longer brings tears to your eyes, no longer makes you shake your head in regret.

No need to look behind any more.

I just want to write

I just want to write. Simply write. Open the laptop, go to Word, and write. Get my notebook out and pen and just write. It's been ages since I wrote. I do not mean writing a simple verse or a short story once in 8 months, I mean write with my heart; pour out my thoughts like a libation. I just want to write.

Back then, I did. I wrote. Every morning, every evening, every night. Like a salah. More because back then "mon joug est dur et mon fardeau était lourd." My yoke was was hard, my burden was heavy. I needed to lay it down. I did not know how else to apart from write. I wrote because I did not talk much. Not to family, not to friends. Even when I talked to Him, I felt a burning in my heart and I still needed to write.

Is the burden lighter now? No. I am older, it gets heavier by the day but then the older I get, the less time I think I have to write. The more I chase things that I hope will be enough substitute for writing. And yes, these things are the normal things to do. Go out more often, meet new people. Enroll in a class, know how to do business. Join prayer class, learn how to pray. Join discipleship class, grow in the Lord.

Things to do. Writing not one of them.

Writing made me think. This was the one thing that would make me observe things around me. The lady in the park with the baby who would ask for help every evening at around 8. The old mzungu who would sit at the Cafe with the cigarette and the newspaper and a cup of coffee. The look of longing in my mother's eyes. These were untold stories. Not the ones meant for Nambi's show or CNN, but the ones that my pen needed to tell.

Not only would it get me thinking, it would change me. Once I got entangled within the lives of these people I asked questions; the why's, who's, how's and more. Perhaps I needed to have more conversation with my mother about simple things like getting a girlfriend. Maybe I needed to throw stones at the mirror before throwing them at anyone else?

I need to write. Wanting won't do. I need to start and let the river flow. I need to not be scared to write for lack of relevance. I need to write. I want to write. I must write or the waters that stir my soul shall calm down and stagnate the pools created in me. I shall write lest my being is set aflame with fires unhindered.

I wrote today, I hope I will write tomorrow.

The most beautiful.

How many ways  could I say that you're beautiful. 

You were like a sunrise last evening;
gentle on the eyes, 
soothing to the heart, 
more radiant by the second.

Eyes like eclairs, 
swimming in a sea of milk; 
smile like a lone diamond 
glowing in velvet night - 

Girl, I wish my heart could settle, 
but you looked celestial last night.

Conversation like a field of fire-flies, 
illuminating ebony plains, 
You set off a light show in my soul -- 
every minute instantly nostalgic, 
every second; a verse of haiku.

I've tried to remember something more beautiful, 
but girl, you were the most beautiful thing last night.

Grounded

I am sure you have those moments as well, you sit down in the empty spaces of your mind and think about how aloof your dreams are, how near your failure is, how nagging your guilt feels, how unreal your redemption seems...

You have to choose. There are two people separated by the train of thought. They both have the same face, same name.

But, only one man can leave the table. As long as the two still sit together, your dreams remain aloof, your failure is breathing down your neck, your guilt won't let go and you will want to ignore your redemption. One man cannot desire to do evil and agree with the other who desires good. One man cannot desire to serve God, while the other desires to serve himself.

One man, one thought, one vision, one purpose; only one man must leave the table of thought because a double minded man shall never be stable. So you must choose.

And we must choose. How do we stand and where do we stand?  All else is sinking sand except Christ the solid rock.



Matthew 14:27-31

But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” 28 “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” 29 “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”

James 1:2-8
2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,[a] whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.

The Full Course Meal of Scripture

Several times, in our pursuit of our identity in Christ, we come upon questions and dilemmas from the Word that many times make us question what it is that God is saying. So often, we find things in the Word like "Rom 11:29  For the free gifts and calling of God are without repentance. " and then we find "Job 1:21  And he said, I came naked out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return there. Jehovah gave, and Jehovah has taken away. Blessed be the name of Jehovah. " We ask ourselves, why is God being two faced?

Hitherto, my Bible reading was like the picture below;

I would take only what I wanted and cut out what I despised or felt uncomfortable with. I was not mindful of God, who in all things let the fullness of Christ come through. All the Bible is God's word. In fact Paul says to Timothy [2Ti 3:16,17]  All Scripture is God-breathed, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be perfected, thoroughly furnished to every good work.

In reading His Word, I have realised this, it is easy for me to extract a scripture and begin to preach a sermon on it, or pass on a message not mindful of the sea it comes from. This is what I mean; the Word is like eating a 7 course meal. The fullness of it cannot be explained in the appetiser or the soup or  the fish or the palate cleanser or the main course or the dessert! When all these things come together, they make a 7 course meal. Separately, they are individuals at the moment.

The working of the 7 course meal is such that "the guests taste a wide assortment of dishes, not to stuff or overwhelm them with food" and also, "It may take four to six hours to completely finish such a dinner, ".
The dessert is not the dinner. The dinner is complete with all the seven courses to the pleasing of the guest of the home. These small factions only make sense within the line up. Not that they would not taste good on their own.

Christ is fuller than the 7 course meal. Col 1:19  For it was the good pleasure of the Father that in him should all the fulness dwell; He is the dwelling place of the fullness of the Father. We can call the Bible the Spiritual 66 course meal for every book in it compliments the image of the Father. Therefore, it will surely take us more than six hours to complete if we are eating on purpose.

Some parts of the Bible are like what Paul talks about here "Gal 3:24  So that the law is become our tutor to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith. " There is a time for the law and a time for faith. One leads to another. Perhaps the fullness of Christ is in the main course? Who knows, but there are things leading us to this main course! Appetisers, soups,fishes, palate cleansers...

We must learn to see these things in their context lest we misuse or misunderstand this great banquet of knowing Christ. They are held together in God and all find their place in Him. So when I read a verse in a chapter, I ask myself, where does this fall in within the chapter; so I read the chapter. I may further prod and ask, where does this fall in within the book? Or further yet, where does the book fall in within the history of the time?

So the more questions I ask, the more answers I receive, the more fullness is opened to me by His grace and revelation. I find answers and rest. When the main course is done, then the desserts. All these come together for a beautiful banquet. If one is lost, the fullness is missed. May we continue to behold this marvelous Jesus, all the way from Genesis to Revelation and embrace the transformation into likeness with Him.

Baseline:
But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.