Faithful and Holy

First created as dust, with the gene of him who failed, I looked at myself as worthless and the least of righteous like, even if I tried my best to be the “most righteous” it was like a filthy rags.
I gave up!

But before I was through, He tapped me and said He’ll rather be the One to give up His life just so I can be recreated no longer by dust but by Breath(The Spirit)

And He did.
On the cross He whispered “It is Finished”

So there! I was created a new being and Gene, no longer traced to dust but now to The One who recreated me.

So when the devil tried to deceive me telling me I’m not worth it and good enough,
He tapped me to remind me; and all I could hear was:

Faithful, Holy.

Zoe Ziva
(C) 2021

Holy Gist

Yesterday was quite cloudy
It felt like the travelling rain
Decided to stop at my terrain to greet
But it didn’t
Flashes of lightning like swords fight pushed through the thick black clouds
It was an intentional scare I thought
And my thoughts slept with me

Now I’m thinking about it
How is a God whose voice is louder than the thunder speak so softly
That you could hear distinctly in stillness?
I remembered a time
I also wondered what lights really is
You know
Stepping into that flash of light as in the lightning
Light in light?
No shadow of turning?
How is that even possible?
How will light so fill a place
That it will cast no shadow

Hold it! what could Holy mean?
All white, flurry, smells like sweets?
Holy!
Set apart!
Yes, I later learnt what it meant
Separated for the divine
Who is actually The Vine
The one from whom we got our alias – the Branches

I was told that the Vine isn’t just a fruit tree
That it’s a tree that creeps
Better put infiltrate
It takes over
Just give it time
It’s so beautiful that after it’s done with the host
All you can see is vine
Branches faithful to the course
Actually bring forth the fruits
Occupy till I come
For you are a chosen generation
A holy priesthood
They are the ones
That become the Light in the light
The ones that there is also found no shadow of turning
God is light, in Him there’s no darkness
You are of God Little Children
The glory of the vine had made us one
As they are one
Abiding in Him as He is in the Father

How did I start this gist?
I hope it still rains today
Who knows it could make me think of another gist tomorrow.

Pearly Thoughts
(C) 2021

Mother Hen

Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
my children.
“I am the mother hen,” he cried. “Beneath my wings
you all can hide.
There you’ll find warmth and life and love,
my little chicks, my children.
I’ve longed to gather you to me, Jerusalem! Jerusalem,
Please let me mother you! You’ll die
without my warmth, my children!”

We hear his call but turn away, for we are all
grown-up today.
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
nobody’s children!
But as the cold world closes in, we think
about Jerusalem,
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
mother-love-less children.
No one lives through these dark, cold nights
without the warmth, the love, the life
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, gives gladly
to his children.

I trust we know enough of sin, to realize the bind we’re in
When even though we say we’re old, we’re acting just
like children.
And as we turn to leave the nest, convinced our choice
is for the best,
He hopes to see us come again, next time in New Jerusalem.
No one retains their innocence without the strong,
bright broody wings
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, folds softly round
his children.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

INFLUENCERS OF POSITIVE CONFESSIONS

Then he took up his oracle and said: “The utterance of Balaam the son of Beor, The utterance of the man whose eyes are opened, The utterance of him who hears the words of God, who sees the vision of the Almighty, who falls down, with eyes wide open

Numbers 24:3-4

My heart has been burning with a prayer point from this text. Everything Balaam said concerning the Israelites when he was asked by Balak the king to curse them were heavily influenced by two things: what he saw (or should I say he was allowed to see) and what he heard.

Our utterances are a functions of our perspectives and hearing. May God open your eyes to see exactly how He sees, regardless of the situation. When we see things like normal men, things common to the normal man will become our reality because that’s what your mouth will confess (things are hard, life is unfair).

Kai! Help us oh Lord to see like things you do.

He didn’t hear the words of men but of God, so his utterances replicated the very words he heard. No wonder the psalmist said he heard twice what God said once (Psalm 62:11) because he knew the impact those words would have on his spirit.

Father! Open my eyes to see men and situations from your perspective.
Let your words sound so loud to my ears until my spirit align with it. Let my lips can’t help but utter it.

I pray that this scripture will draw you to the place of prayers until your mouth begins to echo the pictures of your eyes and the whispers to your ears. May God help us in Jesus name. Amen.


EZEKIEL, C. PRISCILLA
YIELDED BONES INT’L
© 2020

RENEW 2

Listen
Your heart beats a melody
Listen
The world rejoices in novelty
Listen
You are here by another’s will
Listen
The Word is how you navigate this
Listen

You must be thirsty.
What drink would you love?
Water of life is always a great choice!
We live in the feelings of these little choices.
Live by choice.

Leave by choice
Regrets and bitterness in past 31
Lift by choice
Your spirits heights above where Jews lie
Leafy choices
Can be lost in this wind so hold tight
Newness is your guest today
Make the best of it

Dance!
When you can and can’t
You deserve presence,
Gift yourself the present of you
Now is a good time to live.
So dance, teach time to
Breathe, see, listen and feel
Make it wait on you.

St. Davnique
Godswill Ezeonyeka
©2020

RENEW


Let your hair down
Breathe
You’ve come this far
See
This is not destination
Listen
But home is where you are
Feel
The moon takes us through another 31
Live

Begin by breath.
One. Two.
Exhale the stress, excess, excuses.
Inhale the miracle of your heart beating hard.

The journey of a thousand miles
One step
The expectation of many lives
One thought
This is reset if you don’t clone it
Welcome to another opportunity
Crown it

Continue by Sight.
Lashes up and it’s a new day!
We are always at the start of things
And it’s okay.

And now that I have you here,
Can you hear?
Can we sit and lock hearts?
Rest a while on my chest
I will do same.
We are simply different patterns from a cloth.
Our roads have led us here.
Let’s celebrate this beautiful silence.

St. Davnique
Godswill Ezeonyeka
©2020

Take My Hands Instead

One pill…
Two pills…
Three pills…
And another…take my hands.

Isn’t that a perfect metaphor for how you go bananas, dig your feet into those coloured clips, stain your teeth with the feel, stain your fill with the filth, and assume the other filths fade?

Isn’t that how it makes you feel? The peel? No?

Then talk to me.

I want to hear it…take my hands.

This time, get high on the drug of my attention, snort on my love and exhale passion, and if clasping my hands will help, take them, let the tension go.

At first I didn’t listen because I thought it wasn’t you speaking. Your liver called out to me, your lungs did too, your strained heart cried out to me, I heard a million tears fall from your triggered body.

I don’t know and I probably won’t understand you. But I know that nobody puts a gun at his throat and expects to survive.

Give me the gun, and take my hands.
Dear Amanda

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
D. Niel Quchi
© 2020

Are You?

Behold the cloud
the train of our King
the procession of heavens host

hear the blasting sounds
of trumpets
calling for the assembly of saints
dead and living

gathering at the table
feasting at the Lamb’s banquet
joy is the wine
in unending glee to dine

but feel the gnashing of teeth
the regrets of ostrich-like men
who missed the flight

are you transformed to fly
or heated to cry ?
Are you?

Josh’ Oloyede Oluwafemi.
© 2020