Lord, don’t call me the unthankful for my eyes has seen more than my head could contain and my gaze on you seriously under the attack of
never ceasing turbulence that is aimed at wrecking my faith in you. You are kind, more than benevolent. You had warned me long enough to prepare against this torrential rain that has vowed never to cease long before I even smelled life at the corner. I can’t contain it again; I can’t thrive again by the weapons my hands have made. Am getting weaker in scheming better ways to fighting this menace that has shifted my gaze from you, to the so called followers of you that have so strongly clenched to their arm-chair-critic’s seat and when they are knowledgeable enough, they sit on this high professorial throne of “I know” and “the bible said”. Basking in their knowledge they are set on the mission of making a mockery of the few that had decided to embark on the “going into the world” mission, making them to feel like they are not qualified to uphold this mandate. They never bother about living out your life, neither do they care about bringing you joy by the way they carry themselves. But God, I am not trying to judge them. They are saints compared to me.
You see, God, I can see this strong decline from the standards you laid long before I was born. I could see myself answering “Mr. Light” yet my deeds are viler than that of the so called infidels. I try to cover my shortfalls with the platitude that, “it’s a gradual process, you can’t become like Jesus in a day”. I can’t deceive you or try to deceive my very self for every single line I try to straighten with my cook’s book ended up having flaws I’ll never be able to make plain. You see me even when I hide under the root of religious living like the Pharisees, it never got you daunted, neither were you flabbergasted by my window dressing acts. You were always waiting for me at the end of the tunnel, yes, to gently lead me back to the track. I’ve always treated you as a stranger trying to kidnap me at such times. I swap my Simcard and still claim that you were not reachable. So when you called, you met a dead end and when my network provider the Devil, Mr. Satan was kind enough, he would tell you in that mocking tone that my number was currently switched off, you were never giving up, you were bent on calling my number, yes, you never allowed insufficient airtime and low battery that I was always on to dissuade you from caring for me. You were there for me even when I did not value you.
But lord, you had prayed that the father would protect us from the evil one yet, evil has built its mansion inside our tent of worship. We see nothing as sacrosanct, the old fashioned way, and the way you established we have tagged “dated” and still claim that we are on the way of the cross. You were patiently with me, you cared for me. And here I am testifying of your kindness as I see this phase come to an end gradually. Few hours before the new moon will be sighted and you have never left the door of my heart, you keep banging on my door each time I forced you out even when I made the choices not to allow you anywhere close this mansion of sin I keep making more grandiose effortlessly as the day rolls by. But I have one thing to thank you for, “thanks for converting this edifice to rubbles each time you strike me with you word”, thank you for accepting the place of the captain once again, thanks for been the friend that has always been by my side like a lover, that you for always correcting me like a father should his son. Thank you lord, Jesus for all your cares.
Your son that has the fault of locking you out,
Symolean, Mikado Goodest.


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