Sunday, January 26, 2014

I used to believe in love....

I used to believe in love until so and so broke my heart. I was a romantic before my last 4 relationships. My heart has been hardened by my experience. I do not believe in true love any more. I am sure you have heard one of these statements before. No? Well, you are blessed dear. Unfortunately for me, I have heard these, and predict that I will keep hearing them.

Before a certain point t, call it ex boyfriend, or some expletive term you might also use in your head to refer to him, you had these honeyed views, these rainbow feelings about what true love was.

You dreamt and fantasised about the man, the guy, the dude, the Prince who would one day smile at you and your heart would melt away, into happily ever after. Oh the visions you had. Your wedding day was a pearl and diamond affair. It was a thing of dreams!

Till you met Nev. Nev, the all too sweet charming gentleman who had nothing but love for you. At least that is what you saw and thought. He said sweet things, made you feel wanted, made you feel like a girl should feel. He was the Prince you were expecting. You gave over your heart. You did not resist, you did not hold back. This was your dream come true. You believed, no, you knew this was meant to be forever.

Forever has different durations, it has come to my attention. For you, the day he said he loved you no more, the day you found him with that other girl, the day he left you coz his parents did not accept people from your tribe, that day forever ended.

It ended and with it your notions of true love. It was the end of your dream.  The day your heart started becoming stone.

To some, this happened two, three or four times for it to sink in. After that, "I used to believe in love until so and so broke my heart. I was a romantic before my last 4 relationships. My heart has been hardened by my experience. I do not believe in true love any more."

So, I no longer give everything. I give a bit of me. I hold back. I do not trust easily. My heart is hardened now. True love does not exist.

I hear these words and wonder, what did you think love was? What did I think love was? Some custom made fantasy land where all my dreams come true and chocolate flows in the streams, while honey drips off vanilla grass?

We have made idols of true love, defined it with fairy tales, names of movie characters, and the like and so when our own image disappoints, we break. Our hearts break. Our minds change. We repent of it and adopt an even worse idol of it.

On this planet, water is life. However, water can be poisoned, sweetened, made bitter but that does not change it's essential intrinsic nature. Water is key in giving life. If I drank a cup of water that gave me typhoid, do I then repent of water and curse it till the day I die? (Which thereafter comes knocking on your door quickly).

Why then do we have the same views of love? We have been deceived of the true nature of love. And our hearts have hardened and crafted golden calves of what it is to us now. To some it is no longer even an idol but an imaginary pink elephant.

Love does not change. Love remains as steady as time. Love may not come in the gold or purple we have been told but it's intrinsic nature cannot be missed. We on the other hand change. People make mistakes, people hurt people but do those things change what love is? Love is never changing.

Perhaps it is high time we came to the true picture of love and maybe then we can never say words like "I used to believe in love until..."

Love is a person. He does not change. He is patient; He is kind; He is not envious or boastful or arrogant  or rude. He does not insist on His own way; He is not irritable or resentful; He does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. He bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

When we come to Him, may we let Him remove all our imaginations and notions of what love is and allow Him to show us what is truly is.  May we see. May we accept. May we be changed.

Selah.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Voices in your head.



Did the sun just suddenly set on the day,or was it a steady fading away till there was no light to see? Did the shore suddenly disappear or did you not see the waters slowly covering the sands?  Was it ever in the blink of an eye, that what was here no longer was?

Death. Maybe. It just burns the city down in an instant like Sodom burned. Salt woman coming out of the dark recess of regret.

But what about the burial? The memories? The letting go? Do you in an instant forget? Make peace?

We always see it coming, don't we? We see it at a distance and turn our heads Pretending we saw a mirage. Yet it still approaches, while we construct soothing words birthed in a walk of delusion not sight. We call it hope, perseverance, love, name it...Yet deep down it's fear.

Fear of losing what's in your hands. Fear of losing what's a gem to your soul. It could be that relationship. It could be that job.

The texts reduced and stopped; the calls, well they didn't come. You said "I love you", a million times but heaves and sighs came in return.

Or that appraisal, and the meetings after, there are whispers in the corridors, very odd stares,and then the sermon from the boss.You take steps. Take new breaths convincing yourself it will be okay. But guess what...

They don't love you any more,they don't trust you any more.

So they'll change the passwords, they'll change the locks. You're cut off completely from their world. The sweet words that once were the sun become bland and tasteless. You have run your course; The blade of grass has given in. Death. Separation. Took over. You knew it would come. But you closed your physical eyes,thought your invisible ones would help you see.

Now you're out on the corner in the pouring rain, at the cliff with your loosened tie, no one will be coming. You're on your own,you're in the dark,you're on the edge about to fall and ask "Why was I so blind?"

Why do we ignore them sometimes, those voices in our heads? Coz sometimes we forget the heart wants what the heart wants.


Comfort of Promise




Hey people, my friend Eunice and I worked on this piece together. I hope it makes sense. It's about coming to that place when you lose it but know it was never yours to have and that He can give you what He thinks you deserve.

Can you keep your heart from breaking? 
Can you keep it from feeling or wanting to feel? Can you say to the heart. Stay. Wait. Stop here?

          Your heart is fragile, Yes, I know.
          It feels, Yes it wants.
          I walk with your heart, allow me to rule it then.

You know those times when you climb the mountain
Yet you do not have to?
When you go up with your Ishmael
He has not been asked for but you go with him,
You set up an altar to make the sacrifice,
Remove the wood and the knife, 
And start to kill the sacrifice?

          You tell me of those times at the mountain?
          You tell me of those times when the sacrifice was heavy?
          And the Altar was ready?
          But your heart was not ready?

In a different life, you pray and hope 
With sweat and tears
That maybe you will hear a lamb bleating
Caught in the bushes
Or that the angel of God will stop your hand

....nothing

And your knife goes through him, your precious Ishmael, 
And his cries are your cries, 
You set a fire, watch him burn
Everything lost, everything gone...

          It is in your loss that should you gain
          It is in your tears that should you laugh again
          The power of resurrection is found in death
          And my reward has been set on you my servant

…..Aaahh

          Weep not then, Rejoice and sing
          Revive your crushing spirit, Dance…
          For your loss is not of waste
          And your heart will wail again
          You find Grace, You find Favour

Can you keep your heart from breaking?
When you come to the cliff and are pushed off,
When you're left alone standing in the middle of the desert
When you're called an outcast by those who 
You thought loved you?

          The pieces of your crushed heart
          I will cherish, I will honour
          When you are alone, you are not alone
          Today, rejoice , Stand in my embrace
          And know, that my very own heart is what I give now
          If your heart breaks again,  it will be that mine is breaking too. 

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Nightmares



Cracked windscreen. The drops from the clouds hit the car like an adulterer being stoned.
It is violent and unrelenting. This weather has a vendetta!

Visibility is low, the wipers are working like horses in a battle. Still I cannot see much of the road except for where the headlights hit. Moisture forms on the inside, I have no AC, I have to clear the windscreen with my hands.

The sound of the blowing wind and the battering is harsh! It's screaming at me to get off the road. Mixed with the urgency of the wipers, there is a din in this car. I am not alone in this metal box. Yet I am alone.

It's a dream, you know. This. You know it. You just know it's a storm but do not know when it started. You do not know where you're going or where you're coming from. You know but you don't know. You just focus on the road, at least the nearest of it you can see.

You are in a shadowy cloud of your world. You have not even thought to look behind or on the side. You have an unnerving tunnel vision right now. Nothing else matters. Just the shadows you're fleeing in the car.

Why are you running? What are you escaping?

It's a nightmare by the way, not just a dream. You know that thing when you have irrational fears for some reason being rational? You wish you could just reach wherever it is you're going. You wonder why the weather will not simply ease up on you. The shadows are growing yet not engulfing you. This weird place.

You know what I am talking about, don't you?

The windscreen continues to crack. It's getting colder. There's a chill in your spine. Something might just go wrong now.....a screech, a bang, a scream and

........

Dark world these imaginations. Cold world these uncertainties. Helplessness this underworld. You wait for the Light of Hope to break through. He will breakthrough. He has broken through.

Ephesians 5:14
English Standard Version (ESV)
14 for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says,
“Awake, O sleeper,
    and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”



Saturday, January 18, 2014

Here's a Note to the Glow



The Glow,
Light subtle,warm and ever so gentle;


I met the Glow. I just did not know it.

You know the kind of person who you meet in passing at first and are warmed up by their instinctive smile. You feel good about it. Smile from your heart, grin a little on the mouth. Yes, the smile warmed you inside, like somebody lit a torch in a cold room.

It happens for about a minute or two and you move on. You glowed when you saw it but soon forgot as you continued walking.

However, you meet again. In a large crowd. You see the Glow. She smiles a wild sunflower smile and even waves! She waves. You're just so infected by her beams you have no option but smile back and wave! The cold room of your soul keeps warming up.

You think to yourself, wow! That's one happy soul.

Well, somehow you got to know her name and she got to know yours. In this digital age, NSA are the pros, people are the rookies. So you get to find out emails, URLs, handles etc and before you know it- smiles turn into conversation.

But that's normal.

So this one day, you meet, not by accident of course; your circles keep on  intersecting. This time she is so happy, her arms open wide and take you in.

Pause.

There are things that are easy to explain. There are those that are hard to explain. This one lay on the peripheries of both but neither. It was soft vanilla ice cream covered in rich buttery caramel with a touch of melted chocolate topped with sugars and strawberry!

She took me in. Owned me. Put her whole soul into the embrace. Cold room totally warming up. You could feel the cadence of  fire in her skin. Peace in the arms of this Glow.

 So, this note is a little thank you. I'd wait 29 just to spend at least 29 seconds in those brown arms, where there is silence, peace,joy, contentment and gratitude.

Happy Birthday the Glow.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Yarn Ball


The other day I thought about a scenario.

What do people who daily meet at the bar talk about? Or what do people at the drinking joint talk about usually? Is it the taste of beer they prefer? Do they prefer it in a glass or directly from the bottle? Or do they prefer a straw? Do they prefer their own pot or sharing with everyone else? Do they mix their local brew?

What do they talk about?

People in the tall buildings with the views of the city, those below, in the valleys with streams of sewerage running between their houses. The conversations are definitely different.

One speaks of going to Davos and then to Los Angeles, and maybe Lagos to close some deals over the week. They will eat at the Sheraton, Hilton, or some other famous big name hotel. Juices, bacon, omelette, fancy food. Rent is no problem, their home is where they are at the moment.

The other has a bunch of items to carry to town. He hopes to make just enough to grab something for lunch, it should be able to take him to the next day. He sweats the entire day walking through parks asking people like me if I want crisps, a toothbrush, Kisubi tea or something. When he retires, he needs just a sheet to cover him in a room that has lots of other people catching their hours of rest. Sometimes he bets and hopes to make some cash off Arsenal's win so that he can save up on that boda boda.

Clearly they have the same blood.

So many. So so many. Almost like insects crawling on the face of the earth. Different minds. Breathing the same air. Pursuing individual interests. Some form organisations and call others to them to have an appearance of a collective pursuit but deep down each one has that thing their heart wants the most.

My mind is stuck. We are so many. Everywhere. Yet individuals. We are 7 billion planets on this mass of earth. All orbiting in each other's space. Collisions occurring. Gravity pushing and pulling. Some so small. Some so big. Some so hot. Some so big. Some so wise. Some so ignorant. Yet all sharing the same space. Interfering each other because there's no where else to orbit alone!

This post offers no advice. No big answer. My mind is just in a roller coaster of thoughts. It's a yarn ball of questions that maybe needs no kick of an answer. Hopefully at some point, in this life or this next, it will be unwound, thread straightened out. Or maybe it can never be fully wound out.


Monday, January 13, 2014

Random scattered brain

So I wake up with haze over my eyes
I am supposed to be refreshed
but something is clutching my heart
You know the feeling when you know somethin's wrong
But you try to act as if everything is going to be fine

So step out of bed and I'm not sure that I can stand
My head is light as a feather,
My body is lighter,
I lean against the white wall try not to tip over

I got the strangest nausea building in my chest
Feel like throwing up a whole mountain
But certainly afraid
I get down to my laptop try to muster some sense
Open blogger hit my create
And this is what I came to say

I am a reed in the swamp
New leaf in a left over stump
My heart is running like Usain Bolt
But at the same time being pensive
Like that statue of old

Call me when you're sober
I hope I'll be sober too
When you finally land from the inverted heights
Loneliness is easy,
If the heart isn't warm

So I pull my covers try to keep my thoughts warm.




Friday, January 10, 2014

Happy because

I want you happy you know,
Not to just see the form of a smile on your face
To know there is no darkness behind that curtain
That there are no finger shadows behind smoke screen

Genuinely,
Not a radio voice, a Bbaale Francis tv look
Sweet on the ear, dark on the heart,
Smiling above the face, in shorts below.

What I mean is,
Listening to a heart that beats at ease
A cadence of a river winding through a forest
Rays of sunshine breaking through dark nimbus.

Not Hollywood style special effects
Where you read a script and I am supposed to believe;
Not a ballet session where you've been choreographed
But where you dance according to the flutter of your heart.

Not just happy for the sake of it
Yet happy because there is a breath of life in you
Happy because perhaps you're happy with me
Happy because perhaps it's the natural thing to be.

Devil's Pool

I do not know how these things work. 
Honestly, I do not know. 
I must have missed that lecture. Maybe I was sick. 
Maybe it was taught during the holidays. 
I do not know.

I came to the falls quickly! 
Got stuck at the Devil's pool; 
it was peaceful. 
See, the precipice was a few inches away; 
the cliff, but I wasn't going over.

Yea, I am sure I missed the lessons. 
How to paddle, how to fight the waves, 
how to stick to the course. 
But then I imagine, 
it might be a good thing not to learn.

Going down rapids, battered, slapped, 
cut by the waters and by some fortune or 
misfortune ended up in this belly, 
this Devil's pool. Calm. 
How this happens, I do not know.

Right here is a serene purgatory. 
However that is the problem. 
In this place, the water isn't going over the cliff, 
and all around is more water. 
No going back. No going forward.

Devil's pool, heavenly purgatory 
but hopeless place. 
No way back, uncertainty ahead. 
I really don't know how these things work.


Tuesday, January 07, 2014

New

New

See I have been reading you.

Reading, you;
from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet.
I have been reading your notes,
following your heartbeat through your hands
letter by letter, syllable by syllable.
I have been following you
through your ascents and descents and winding curves.
I have been reading you
following the stars in your eyes,
the cherry on your lips,
the caramel on your skin.
I have been listening to your breath,
your song, your voice;
they that accompany your hands,
your feet, your waist,
they that sync in rhythm.

I have been reading you.

I have felt the cadence and the tone.
Heard the whispers and the screams,
snickers and laughs.
I overheard the pain and the moans,
the sadness and the regret.
I pressed further to hear the hope and the dreams. 

I came eye to eye,
ear to ear,
heart to heart ,
mind to mind
with another soul.

A whole new universe
with a constellation of emotions,
joined together by different times,
places and people.

I came to a new frontier and placed a white flag.
The sky was golden, the sand was brown.
There was a river flowing, waterfalls in the distance.
Hope in the future,
Life in the air
Love pervading my whole being. 

I came to a new life.

I came to you.


Wednesday, January 01, 2014

What could church be?

I am writing because perhaps it is a good time to write.

The year is ending according to many of our calendars and many of us right now have a heightened sense of new beginnings.

Time, I hadn't considered time and what is was till I thought about the church. When we think about time many of us look at it as regards how it affects us directly or the people around us. There are those willing to go a step further and because of curiosity find how it affects the people they may not know about but are curious about.

The issue of identity is taken serious by some and lightly by others because they do not have that privilege of it being passed down. There were days of family crests, honour, name; I believe in some places they still exist. Most of the people in these families have a unified sense of belonging either due to the crest or their patriarch.

The Jews considered for a long time and still do now that they were of Abraham and that meant they were special. Yet we come to find that those of Abraham are not those of the flesh but of faith.
What am I saying. Do you ever regard the church as Presbyterian, Catholic, Evangelical or perhaps Anglican? Have you asked yourself whether that ever comes to play in GOD's mind? See, this God is 
outside time.

Do you suppose He has any business understanding the church any other way apart from Christ, the Son? 

Does He write down encyclopaedia for the understanding of this thing called church? Do you realise the church is? What I mean is, the church isn't trying to become something, the church is - the body of the Son, the bride of the Son. She is timeless.

Can we really say the church today? Yesterday? Can we express a need to change church or rather a true understanding of church? Ever since the blood and water flowed from the Saviour's side, the church has been. Apostles have lived and lost their tents, so have many other believers.  The church, can she be understood any other way apart from being the body of Christ expressed on earth?

Could the church be in Tokyo as well as in Kampala, distant but not separate? Could the church be in Kuala Lumpur and Mbarara distant and not separate? Living from the same breath of new life called the Spirit? Living in the new realm of the Faith of the Son of God? Separated but yet not apart?

Could the church be a stream of life flowing through the ages, making manifest the aroma of Christ in every space and time without being branded? Could she be the bride who lives to please her groom? Could she be the expression of Him outside time?

And could we simply be tasked with letting His light illumine our darkness? Simply be tasked with beholding Him so that we are changed into likeness of Him? Could the church simply be a revealing of Christ in individuals and in the groups?