Quiet Impact


(Dedicated to all those of quiet impact)
 
She dosent talk, she dosent post, she dosent shout.
He comes in, works it and walks out.
No flashlights, no spotlights, yet he’s the light and all dark eyes know.
No celebration of her name, no serenade for her fame, no declaration of her day, only the ovation of spirits, only the recognition of Abba.
No stickers bear his name, no posters carry his face, yet every touched heart knows his hands, every bruised skin knows his balm.
Not loved widely but ever so deeply, she carries the burdens of a hurting generation and the secrets of a battered heart and to her grave will they go with her.
Hoping for the the tiny lens of heaven, for the cameras of Hollywood ever so flashy overlook him.
 
No streets bearing her name, no cult chanting her fame, no frames for generations to know her face, yet purer heart has not this earth seen, a more loving soul this world has never hosted, she gives her best and keeps what’s left, animals call her kind, strangers pray for him, beggars know her name, prisoners remember his song.
His works carry no credits, her works bear no copyright, she just keeps working right and walking right through stony hearts, for she is wright. A flat character in her own story, yet acting round all heart, for an audience of One. She may not make history but she’s already part of His-Story.
 
What is the payment of a pure heart? what is the award for a sacrificial soul? what are the wages for a selfless life? it exists, just not to be found in this world. So he’s looking forward to the city who’s builder is God, from where he derives his citizenship, she’s longing for His recognition, Him for whom she lives and breathes.
 
So ignore the quietness and keep on the impact, and should the world ever take note, carry on all the same, don’t stop here, you cant stop here.
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The Mute Cry


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I’ve been wronged. Why should I not be bitter?

Treated unfairly, as though I don’t deserve better.

Suffering consequences for choices I never made.

I’m strange not special, odd not unique, tossed apart not set apart.

Bitterness I drink, bitterness I sip.

I sleep with my oddness, wake with my strangeness and live with my bitterness.

I chose not this burden, it chose me and like a jealous wife follows me everywhere, weighing me down-spirit choking, soul gasping, body crumbling, all under this bitter weight.

How dare you demand I be bitter no more?

Roll away this load and with a light heart I’ll smile.

They point at me – jesting me, poking me, mocking me.

Bitterness, bitterness, bitterness all around and around all.

I sat there sinking in the mud hole of my anger, suffocating from my own rage, angry with life, tired of men, hidden from God.

I stood at the door beckoning the grim reaper ‘please pay me a visit’ and with open hands I would welcome him. Better dead than bitter, better entombed than enraged, life is overrated.

A knock! At last the grim reaper was here, I fumbled over myself in excitement to welcome my own death. I opened the door and He walked in instead, brighter than life and bigger than all, too magnificent to be grim, too loving to be reaper. I skidded with all my might heading the opposite direction, lest my darkness spewing heart stain even the edge of his light crusted garments. But His arms longer than the great wall and quicker than Bolt went round me and like the clenched jaws of Sabre tooth, drew me in to himself. I shuddered to look sure I would stain even the stainless and spread my cancer of bitterness on another.

He was gone, I opened my eyes to see that his glow had driven my groans and his light had shone upon my life, driving eternally away my darkness and stains. It was all gone and my heart was beating ‘free’ ‘dom’, ‘free’ ‘dom’, ‘free’ ‘dom’. I sought for my pain only to find His pleasures, I opened the wardrobe of my bitterness only to find garments of praise, my account of shame empty and my store of Joy overflowing.

Where is my knight in shining Armour? My hero who saved me from myself? I looked around to no avail, only to hear His voice from within my very heart crying ‘over here’.

This myriad of happenings all in a split second as I answered the altar call on this Sunday morning, never uttering a word, with folks I never knew but who now felt closer than kin. Kneeling on the altar, live tears streaming from my eyes, once bitter, once angry, now saved, now changed, all because His ears hear even the mute cries of a bitter heart.

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PERFECT ME…


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I am so perfect, in fact I have never and will never see anybody as perfect as me.

When I make a mistake; I’m only human, when others make a mistake; they are careless,

When I fail a course; the lecturer failed me, when others fail a course; they are dull,

When I eat all d food; I’m hungry, when others eat all the food; they are greedy,

When I come to church late; I was busy, when others come to church late; they don’t fear God,

When I win; I am obviously the best, when others win; they are lucky,

When I shout angrily; they provoked me, when others shout angrily; they have no self control,

When I fall asleep; I was tired, when others fall asleep; they are lazy,

When I drink garri; I’m being content, when others drink garri; they are broke & poor.

When I play games; I’m relaxing, when others play games; they are wasting their time.

Can’t you see how perfect  I am & flaw full everyone else, that’s why I have a right to criticize everyone ( and maybe even God)

Perfect me … Or …is that, insensitive & judgmental me.

William Udousoro 

The Cost of Christianity


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The Christianity that costs you nothing, profits you nothing,

If it cant cost you sleep, it wont profit you rest,

If it cant cost you food , it wont profit you satisfaction,

If it cant cost you risk, it wont profit you safety,

If it cant cost you friends, it wont profit you relationships,

If it cant cost you money, it wont profit you wealth,

If it cant cost you sacrifice, it wont profit you consolation,

If it cant cost you seeds, it wont profit you harvest,

If it cant cost you death, it wont profit you life,

If it cant cost you the world, it wont profit you Christ.

The Christianity that cost you nothing profits you nothing.

True Christianity will cost you everything, but will give you much more.

THE WAY OF THE WIND


It’s direction unknown, it’s source untraceable, it’s purpose undetectable

It’s path traceless, it’s way trackless, it’s road trap less,

It’s strength limitless, it’s power boundless, it’s might faultless,

Smooth as silk, blinding as light, flowing like oil.

All around but none can hold it, felt everywhere but none can point it,

When calm all is calm, when fiery all must move

With no sense of arrangement, the rootless attest this

In it’s fury an enemy to all, save the eagle

Giving the waves no sleep and the aflight full thought

Yet we dare not live without it, we dare not breathe without it

Missing in space, the astronaut’s regret

It’s way a mystery, it’s thought hidden, it’s effect un-ignorable

Like he born of the Spirit, like she conscious of Life,

Tis my way, tis my only way.

 

William Udousoro