God trusts you!

Often when we teach trust to believers, we encourage them to trust God but what if the right way to look at it is from the angle that God trusts us – Me.

Because…

The act of loving itself is impossible without a measure of trust.

When I understand that God initiated the love relationship between Him and I, I also understand that it must mean He trusts me.

Throughout the Bible we see this concept proven over and over in every relationship God has with a man. Against all odds and through generations of unfaithfulness and inherent flaws, God continues to put his love on us, risking his trust being broken and trusting the good he saw in us when he first created our kind at Eden.

I’m a Creative so I can relate to the love a creator has for his/her creation. No matter how imperfect, we believe there’s good in every creation at the very least. At worst we believe it can be better and sometimes we spend entire lifetimes trying to perfect our creation.

God is a Creative.

So every time I fear or worry, he’s still there trusting me through the process and it’s this unrelenting trust he has in me that eventually saves me. Because he trusts me, he keeps coming for me, keeps teaching me, allows the experiences I need to learn from happen, he keeps healing me…

He has enough faith for us both
He doesn’t ask for what he hasn’t given

So when he asks for my trust and my faith and my love, it’s because he has given them to me ahead.
It doesn’t matter if it’s the one-millionth time I fail, or worry or fear or fret…
He’s there. He trusts me to get it right. He knows I can.
Be good. Be better. Do better. Do more.
He trusts me to trust him because he wants to partner with me to pull madht stunts on earth.

Wow.

I mean, when we see it this way, suddenly trusting God becomes easier and doable. It just makes sense.

– St. Davnique
(c) 2021

BREAD OF LIFE

I’ve seen the rich
Hustling to breathe
For a living
I wish their wealth
Could afford them good health
But money failed

I’ve seen Damsels
Adorned in White linen
Married to the morgue
I wish all that glitters
Sparkles forever
But beauty is vague

Why the quest for fame
Why the bloated ego
Why the cravings
And exaggerated feelings
If all that fuels our pride
Fails the test of time

What’s the use of the lungs
If it does not long for air
A salt without it taste
Is a domestic sand
A life without the Maker
Is hanging on a live wire

No matter the bliss
In the dinning table of affluence
No union is greater than communion
Until you eat the bread of life
Any other bread you eat is Agege bread

A life without Christ
Is a life of stasis, vices, lysis and Crisis

King Uwe
© 2020

Letter to Ola #5

Dear Olaedo,

On Prayers

I wish I could write ‘PRAYER WORKS‘, drop the mic and hope you would understand enough to appreciate the depth of that truth.

Perhaps, after I tell you the story of my friend, Onuegbu, you would understand better. To protect his identity, we’ll call him Onuegbu. He and I became friends in 2013. He calls me his best friend although I don’t feel worthy of the title. His life is devoid of true friendship which perhaps is why he considers the little I offer the best he has ever had.

Onuegbu has a beautiful heart and sees only the good in people. I have never heard him talk ill of anybody even when people constantly leave his back fiercely itching after he has done a thorough job scratching their backs.

Nobody wants to drown with a drowning person.

Life is not as fair to him as he is to life’s benefactors.

Onuegbu has sickle cell anemia and ordinarily, he may have been able to cope comfortably if well treated but his financial state is so unstable, he could barely eat, let alone afford medications.

His health got so bad that his family abandoned him and he was left alone to cater for himself. Being his friend has its dark side. He always needs company. It helps in distracting him from the pains of stiffening bones and excruciating pains.

I think talking about his problems is a form of therapy for him so even when my own life is crashing, I would stay on the phone for hours and listen to him complain.

The difficulty in feeding is the most heartbreaking part. He would call and ask for as little as a transfer of N500 to eat as he had not eaten all day.
I prayed first in 2015 for his healing. Oh well, it continued. I prayed again in August 2020. This time, I fasted for 3 days.

He wanted to give up. He was ready to commit suicide. His hustle has been fruitless. The lack of capital wasn’t helping matters. Each time he got a little money to put into something, his health would knock him down and he would use the money to pay hospital bills.

He was in so much anguish and I couldn’t take it. I prayed and fasted for a way; for something to work for him. I kept asking how he felt from time to time as I prayed but nothing changed. (Ha. I was tired oh. What’s all this nah?)

It can be frustrating when you can do little to alleviate such pain from a friend’s life. The darkness is contagious. (You don’t contact the sickle cell silly. You just drown in misery alongside him).

This was us until we got a glimmer of hope yesterday.

I replied to a tweet by Ozzy Etomi on Twitter yesterday and talked about my anemic friend and his ordeal in a brief yet explicit manner.

It got a lot of reactions and comments from people sending their love and light, and other anemic people saying that sickle cell anemia can easily be lived with but with medications and good food which involves money.
One particular man replied and asked me to give his international number to my friend to contact him as he would like to be of assistance!
Glory!

We’ll be calling our man ‘Godsent’.
Onuegbu chatted up Godsent on WhatsApp and after a long talk, GodSent said he will set up a business fully for him.

Did I cry? Yes. The pieces of my thankfulness were all over the place and I wished I could mould it into a clay medal of thankfulness and present it wholly to God.

Instead, I sang ‘Great is thy faithfulness’, then muttered words in tongues, then exploded in laughter after which crying followed.
The crying and laughter started happening so concurrently that I couldn’t differentiate my laughter from my cry.

Long pause.

Tongues again.

Plain words of gratitude.

Blast of memories.

Feelings of inadequacy because I could not mould a perfect ‘thank you’.

I curled up and breathed softly knowing that even my breath was drawing invisible strokes of thankfulness in the air.

Your Mama


ChyD

©2020

You Are The World


Hey You!
When Jesus said that He came to save the world, He meant You!
Because You against the world is You against a brick wall. It’s a hard hit with a concussion of disorders.
You question His love for You when you measure it against the evil in the world.
When Jesus thinks the world, He thinks You!
Wholeness, life in abundance, health, prosperity, peace and joy, He thinks for You.
You may insist; “I don’t need saving, maybe He should go ahead and save the rest of the world instead”. But how can He save the world if He doesn’t save You?
You are His world!
You are the world!


The world doesn’t exist outside You.
Your sadness it displays
Your ignorance it conveys
Your pain it bears
The world exists because You do
In your wholeness, it is made whole
In your sanity, it is made sane
In your health, it is healed
In your joy, it overflows.
To reject Jesus’ help is to watch your World crash and burn.
You are His world!
You are the world!


Ijeoma Obi
© 2020

Drive Past It

I stopped driving at 16 when I had my first accident. The cost of it all made me decide to let the keys go, like lovers on some bridge in Paris, after adding their locks to the teeming number that will cripple the bridge.

This is not a poem. And it is not about lucks or keys
or a kiss or about spoon feeding emotions
or trying to have a relationship
or driving a career worthy of a Fast and Furious adaptation or a Shakespeare narration.

This is to the one who has felt heartbreak close up but, like one of the blind asked to describe the structure of the elephant, will take my words with a pinch of salt. Add it to that part of your wound that a heartbreak caused, cover your cracks with it, do an Nsibidi inscription on your sensitivity.

Heartbreaks are bad for your Health.

Remember when I said I stopped driving, well, I will drive again, and again and again and again. That is how hearts get broken…and heal.

You love or trust or have certain expectations for/from people, their inability to meet up or match your expectations leaves you hurt, and now I have been summoned from Frankenstein’s grave to tell you this;

Don’t stop loving, don’t stop being optimistic, don’t stop expecting the best from people.

Don’t stop believing…
Don’t stop loving…
That is how hearts get broken…and heal enough to heal other broken hearts.


Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
©2020

Justified to Hurt

I lay down quietly in a boy’s only lodge as about 5 other young men spoke of love and ladies, one guy in particular told the heart wrenching story of how he loved a girl, so much and so truly and how she later left him simply because of another guy who had more money to offer, you could tell the hurt in his heart, he said he couldn’t get over her for months, he confessed there in the confines of us guys, that he truly loved with all his heart, and she broke it with all her might. Having been so wronged he explained how he could now without remorse play with any girls heart he could get his hands on, he knew the words, he knew the motions, he knew how to get in, get what he wanted and get out, without bathing an eyelash. In some mis-configured part of his brain he figured he was justified to hurt others as long he was pleased simply because he himself was once hurt.

Do you remember secondary school and particularly if you were in the boarding school? What was the number one reason SS3 students gave for acting cruelly to junior students? ‘Because they did it to me when I was a junior student!’, that was and still is the main plea by many, because as junior student some senior student took their foodstuffs they are now collecting foodstuffs from the entire student body!

It’s like the old an eye for an eye, but remember an eye for an eye sooner or later leaves everyone blind. There’s something in the average human’s subconscious that tends to do to others what have been done to them, that’s why the molester today was most likely abused as a child. It’s a vicious self-supporting cycle, running through generations and even ages.

It’s like the old an eye for an eye, but remember an eye for an eye sooner or later leaves everyone blind.

But yet the reverse is also the case; As a Jambito several years ago, I went to the newly established Federal university, Oye-Ekiti to write the screening exam required to gain entrance. I entered pari passu the setting sun, with little money, no friends and no contact, I had no place to stay and the stories of bandits who prowled at night did not in any way comfort me. Not too sure what to do I went out of the school compound and sighting some young men close by I went up to one of them and simply asked who I could meet for some sort of accommodation, he told me to follow him, he walked me into a room in a joint condo of sorts, pointed a bed and told me to stay there. To cut the short story shorter, I along with few other stranded Jambito’s ended up becoming buddies for the next 3 days of our stay all at no charge, no cost and no hidden agenda. I asked him later on why his magnanimity to us strangers, he answered simply ‘he was once a Jambito and someone took him in!’.

You see, cruelty of many ages can end in one generation, if the last person to contract Aids was the last person to spread it, HIV/ADIS would be only found in the history books in just one generation. You see you have a choice, you’re not just a biological psychological creature who’s actions and reactions are cast in stone based on the hand life deals you. You can let the hurt you suffered snare you into hurting others or you can break out of the mold like so many others have and change the culture that tried to change you from something beautiful to a shadow of your true self. We’re never justified to hurt because we were hurt, no matter the form, it’s a warped way of thinking that leaves everyone bleeding. You can break out of it, you can start a new cycle, you can set the new patterns for your children and your children’s children and the world at large. We have enough bad news to go around twice, we have enough victims who victimize and troubled people who trouble people. Let the pain motivate you to make a difference, not to even the score on people who were never in the picture in the first place.

We’re never justified to hurt because we were hurt

It was Jesus who brought the radical idea of loving your enemies and even praying for them, imagine; praying for the thief who stole from you, loving the idiot who swerved at 130km/hr in front of you on the highway while making a call, forgiving that guy who used you and dumped you. I admit, these are noble ideals too high for the vast majority of us, maybe that’s why Jesus offers to walk with us as we walk through the hurt, and he will, that is, if we let him.

It may not be popular, you may feel out of place, you may be called a fool, but the freedom from the hurt is in repaying it with love. And truly as it has been said; it’s love that makes the world go round.

…the freedom from the hurt is in repaying it with love

Udousoro William (2018)

THANK YOU

I have known the Father’s love for me
God has been good to me
He’s been good.
Through it all, He has been there for me
God loves me
I didnt earn it
I didnt bribe Him for it
He just loves me.
Years roll by,
Situations come up
Giants threaten me…
But, He has always fought for me…
I do get scared at times,
But, He has always comforted me…
Securing family and friends for me…
Providing for me,
Protecting me,
Building me…
Doing it all for me.
If all I can say is ‘Thank you JESUS!’
If all I can say is;’Thank you Lord, God Almighty!’
Then, I better say it well…
Cos’ my God has truly been good to me.

By
Ebisike Amarachi
(a poem written after she miracuosly escaped armed robbery attack).