The strongest charm ever made: Samson’s tale retold

I lived a life full of pride. My life was awe with matchless grace. My hair was strength, my strength was grave. Nations and cities bowed to me and all I knew was victory. Victory, till I fell to charm. Now let me tell you about the strongest charm ever….

Yahhhhhh!!! I’m so excited to write this. Sometimes most truths are really just hidden in plain sight.

Let’s start by screaming at her, cursing out loud, and maybe, if we get the chance, we would still shake her hand; because she showed you the way.

On a cloudy Friday evening, I took the lone road I’d always stayed away from. The grasses were wet, my feet felt moist. The air was soothing and my heart was free. I saw her. I trusted her, why won’t I, When I had nothing to lose. She was the roadside beauty. Her wink always made me act funny. She was good; at least that’s how I remember it. She was on every man’s lips, only problem was, not every man could get so lucky; her attention had a high price.

I was muscular, athletic and strong. In many parts of that region, I was a kickass warrior. Trouble was my father’s name (laughs); I could almost always get away with anything.

She caught my attention that cloudy evening, when I chose the wrong street to walk my dog. I was careless as usual, not minding whoever my dog tried to disgrace. I loved it actually; what a Bruno he was. As I turned down the lonelier bend, there she was; looking. Charming her way, as usual, she was the first to notice, after all I had big abs. While I was still carried away by the stubbornness of Bruno, she was positioning herself for the kill or let’s call it; the catch.

My heart stopped, I couldn’t even contemplate. Was I delusional, such a beautiful somebody could not even have existed in your time? Call it whatever, but I was hooked at first sight. Unfortunately, I had developed poor wooing skills; like always, my muscles did that job. I was already on a spaceship to HERS and there was no turning back.

I saw her, I know I saw her. I cannot be mad, my two eyes caught her; smiling at me, and my godammmn legs just had to find out. Then we made out (and don’t even ask me what charm I used); I was getting wooed and I didn’t even know it. Her body was perfect, her sense of humor would make you feel like you had never laughed yet, there was no other girl on her level, she was phenomenal; and she knew it.

I was in trouble; and I didn’t even know it yet. I was trapped in the web of my desires.

I fell! I fell without a rope and don’t dare ask me where. I’d whisper anyway, I fell in sin.

It didn’t take long; I was already proposing pitching some permanent ideas to her father. She was my burger without the buck, my silent night on a stormy day, my rose without the thorn, she was my slut. I couldn’t bare it anymore, so I told her everything; my heart is yours.

He was my stuff, my war without the sword, my pass, my personal bodyguard, He was my crush. There he was sleeping on laps; I would like to narrate how beautiful he was, but let me bear my cross. I would have loved to trade souls, but money was always first.  

It was my first loss, she was my only cross, her lies were stronger than death, she was my curse. ‘My heart is yours’ I told her, and that was clearly her plus. The battle was lost the first time we crossed, but how would I have known that I had been jazzed.

Three times she asked and three times she tricked me. All she wanted was the gold and it didn’t matter if my eyes had to go. Three times I broke her bounds, but her jazz was too strong; because every single time, I only came closer to telling her, what made me strong.

Now it is gone, now I am no longer strong. Now she is gone, I wouldn’t even know if she’s not. My eyes are gone and so are my locks, now I could never kill a thousand men like I had with a jaw bone.

Her charm was strong, only it was not hers. My heart was wrong, it fell in LOVE.

Love; real or not was strong enough to cost me my strength.

Love; true or not, was strong enough to take Christ to the cross.

Love; now or later will cost you some sacrifice. May it be for the good. May it be for the truth. May it be real.

Love’s charm is unbreakable.

John Okor and Steven Kator Iorfa

© 2019

Labels and False Identities

The world we currently live in seems to always have a name for someone or something that behaves or acts in a particular manner. “If it barks, its probably a dog…”, “If it hisses its a snake… “, “If he says he’s not had sex then he’s so lame”

By who’s standards are these labels made? And should one pick up that label and become what they say?

The world apparently is on a downward spiral. Morals and ethics have proven to hold no water as we could see in law suits, where truth is twisted by technicality.

But there is only one name that should matter to you and I. One label and identity that supersedes what the world may label us. “CHILDREN OF THE MOST HIGH”.

By this one identity, we have tapped into the bloodline that is steeped in grace and herded by a gentle, Holy Ghost. Who daily calls us to ensure we carry the family name and practice the family trade…Fishing, as fishers of men. We know that it is neither by power nor by might, lest any man should boast, thats why he said, “the race is neither to the strong nor to the swift…”, it may be as impossible as a camel passing through the eye of a needle, BUT… “With men, these things are impossible, but with God, all things a possible “. So don’t be suprised when the people of the world wonder why you are ready to be so submissive to one ordinary man, why they cannot comprehend how one person was willing to take the blame for everyone’s crimes in hopes that they’ll someday believe His story, why they do not get how we can proclaim “faith” and pray to a God no one sees. How can they? You cannot see through the eyes of faith if you do not have it. And so they label you, and call you names. But do not fret. Stand fast. Speak, preach, sing, rap, design, play, and proclaim the gospel of Christ. Do not worry after that, because for centuries, camels have been passing through the eye of needles.

Scriptures: Rom 8:17, John 15:18, Matthew 10:22

Anonymous

(2018)

Brave Heart

Bravery is not in a particular action or deed. Its  an attitude, a hearts disposition.

A child who grew up in a farm exposed to wild horses is not really brave because as an adult he comfortably tries to ride a wild horse. His history has ensured it’s familiar and less threatening to him.

Its the one who has never had such history, who finds the wild horse scary and threatening but still attempts to ride it, that’s the brave fellow, that’s the courageous fellow. Its obviously out of his comfort zone but he’s still trudging on.

Bravery requires an expedition outside your comfort zone, outside the familiar, this might be tasting a dish you’ve never tried before, giving a speech in public, trying a new look, meeting a stranger, enrolling in a new course, learning a new skill, investing in a business or riding a wild horse. Some men are not brave enough to help their wives out at home, some women are not brave enough to stop worrying about their kids, some others are not brave enough to stop a habit or even to start the right one.

I’ve met macho men too scared to give a speech, pretty ladies too timid to say their mind, folks crippled by excessive concern about what others would think. People who hate things they’ve never even tried, forgetting that some of life’s most exciting times are those moments when our hearts beat rapidly, our minds run freely, those anxious moments of uncertainty that birth new experiences. That’s what golden memories are made of.

So this weekend, go on and be brave, be courageous, go out of your comfort zone and stay there till it becomes your new comfort zone, then go out and repeat the cycle again and again.

Bravery is being comfortable with the uncomfortable or at least comfortable enough never to let it stop you. Courage is marching on in the midst of fears and doubt and its shown more in the little things of everyday life.

#ThinkWell

#RedefineYourCulture

(C) William Udousoro