OPEN LETTERS

These letters I write to you Lord are tattered
Like my heart now in pieces
And I know it sounds awkward saying this
But, I have experienced so much change
Become unpredictable like the weather
I don’t even know my mirror anymore
I am stuck in this abyss,
Now Knocked out by life, because I floored

So I need an opening or a door
To escape into your bliss
To experience those moments I once reminiscence about
But my life seems like it has gone south
The walls of my soul has come crumbling down
My crown, I now wear with a scarlet gown
And your love, I have moon walked away from

Every morning, I drown in my own tears
And at night fall I take pleasure talking about my fears
I don’t understand how I have become
A stranger to you and my self
So I can only hope my letters rise to the sky like incense
As my prayer are littered all over those papers
I hope that as I dig through your word again to unearth my goldmine
I pray that you would patiently build my faith again like a skyscraper

Keep me from being as loose as a kite blown by every wind and doctrine
Show me how to love again with great affection
So that your grace will be only song I continually play on my selection
As you teach me to walk on water again despite my imperfection
I am sure then,
That My life will finally make sense again

Isoje Victor
© 2019

For love only

I thought I knew strength, what I thought
I felt I needn’t do what I ought
I was wrong, so I blamed my strife
Follow me and you’ll have eternal life
These words I didn’t heed
I was that rebellious seed
Though aware of this grace, I was no bolt in this race
Adam where art thou? I hid my face
I had gone against truth, tasted the forbidden fruit

Surely I still had time, I said
But any hope in this very lie was dead
“The day of the Lord so cometh as a thief…
But I kept sinning, ignoring my belief
“The wages of sin is death…
Mine drew closer with every breath

This cliché have I heard, the thousandth time
Repent or eternal death; the clergy rhyme
So at times I wondered, beyond and under
Is Hell a yonder? Or should I even bother?
If this suffering, they speak is somewhat real
maybe the safe side is where I’d rather be
So yes, I did consider

What if I got saved, or take a break from life o’er there
I would still be lost, neither here nor there
“Thou shall love the Lord your God…
I knew mine wasn’t love; Just the fear of hell
Maybe it was the same if no one could tell
So I walked in hands open, heart closed.

“By me if any man enter in, he shall be saved..
I walked in and didn’t come out the same
I didn’t come out at all.
I thought he was blinded by his love
But it made him see what even I couldn’t
Coz even when I despised him, he loved me
He still does, and always will.
Oh! and this time I love him too

Erudite
© 2019

Well done

You pray in formation
Beyoncé has to feature you in her next formation
Praises first, worship second
Forgive me Lord for I have sinned
Well done, ma

You give up on yourself
Because you keep running from Pillar to Post
Pillar of fornication
Post of prayer for forgiveness of sins
Your legs are weak
You imagine the lord must be tired of you
Tigers woods!
Well done, Sir!

You are told Jesus has forgiven you once and for all
But you argue you have to work out your salvation with fear and trembling
How is the walk going?
Are you trembling yet?
Wakajugbe!
Well done, ma!

You complicate simple English
And say there is more to believing than believing
That believing is not enough for eternal life if not backed up with works
Backup memory card!
Listen to yourself
Are you making any sense at all?
Well done, Sir!

You say Grace keeps one from sinning
Aunty stop sinning already
But you cannot
Is God’s grace not sufficient for you?
Now you say you have to strive to enter
You go wound oh
Well done, ma!

You call me heretic
That I preach a message from the pit of hell
A message that allows believers to lounge
Can we talk about this
Without you getting worked up and defensive?
Because I would like to see you without a York
Jackie!
Well done, Sir!

ChyD
© 2019

Barren Mother

I have an empty well of a belly.
My womb has known nothing but dying blood all my living years.
I have thought of no one but myself,
Fed no one but myself,
Placed no one before myself,
How do I have a womb except it was made to bear another, and yet
I have no idea what it means to pour a part of myself into another.
“A breast feeding mother?”
That’s a foreign name to me.
“A bread winning father?”
Who dares call me?
I am my own hero,
My own salt,
My own light in a shady place,
Come with me and I’ll lead you into the darkness.
I’d snuff the life out of my light because I do not want to share it.
I’m an evil already happening,
A menace waiting to be uncovered.
My tactics are new everyday
Yet my mind is old.
I am a dirty, dirty soul with a clogged up heart and a rigid body.

This is why I have come before the Rock of Ages,
Before The fire that purifies without consuming to ashes.
My tears produce more salt now than I have ever thought to produce.
I do not know when I ever took lessons from the ocean
But my ill will like waves come crushing over me.
I am caught up in my own dirt web,
Spun in my own fear.
I have come to you as a barren womb in need for a child.
I was born to be mother, now may I know a child?
I have come as a fruitless tree in its season.
As hungry fire,
I’m desperate.
As a docile branch,
I submit.
I accept defeat.
Let your rains fall on this arid land again, Lord.
I admit nothing was ever my own;
As I am left with nothing now I am reminded where I come from.
Give me one child, Yahweh ‘tis All I ask.
Surprise the quick-to-conclude with Your quick-to-deliver.
Let them know when their calling-me-barren tongues call me mother,
Let them know from every side of the flipping coin earth,
That You make the Barren Mother.

Adaobi Chiemelu
(c) 2018

Everyday Jesus – Hymn 311

“I could not do without thee”, said the priest.

The pianist proceeded with a familiar tune, the choir joined, and the rest of church sang along.

 

I could not do without Thee

O Savior of the lost,

Whose precious blood redeemed me

At such tremendous cost.

Thy righteousness, Thy pardon

Thy precious blood, must be

My only hope and comfort,

My glory and my plea.

 

As the first stanza went by, I couldn’t help but imagine the cost of my redemption. I tried to wrap my mind around what Jesus must have gone through for love.

 

A man had a lover who he gave up everything for, including his wealth and prestige. He gave her his attention and showered her with gifts. She lacked nothing but yet she wasn’t satisfied. She gave herself to riffraffs and vagabonds who had nothing to offer her. Her lover couldn’t give up on her despite her promiscuity. Life however caught up with her and she contracted HIV. She felt bad for herself and knew she deserved to die. She didn’t want to cause her lover more pain so she ran away but her lover went through thorns and pains until he found her. He said to her, ‘I don’t care about what you must have done. I still love you. I’ll transfuse your blood into mine and take yours. I’ll die of the HIV but I want you to live’. Shocked and guilt stricken, she told him she couldn’t accept such offer. ‘what if I go back to my old ways? I don’t trust myself. I’m sick of myself. I disgust myself’, she said. Her lover said to her, ‘my death would take care of it all’.

 

Isn’t it amazing? The story is unbelievable… I mean, it’s not even ordinarily possible. I heaved and shook my head to clear it as the church began the second stanza.

 

I could not do without Thee,

I cannot stand alone,

I have no strength or goodness,

No wisdom of my own;

But Thou, belovèd Savior,

Art all in all to me,

And weakness will be power

If I lean hard on Thee.

 

Another exciting thought hit me. And I thought…this could be it.

 

Melania Trump did nude photographs during her modeling days but she’s now America’s first lady. According to societal measure, she definitely doesn’t deserve to be the first lady of America but she is. Her past doesn’t matter anymore, just because she married to Trump. Her critics would still greet her as ‘Her excellency’, if they are ever opportuned to come before her. She has a covering and her prestige comes from association. Her weaknesses became power because she leaned hard to Trump.

Exactly how I’m a beneficiary to Christ’s sacrifice just by the reason of my belief in him. My husband is the King of kings…chew on that!

 

I could not do without Thee;

No other friend can read

The spirit’s strange deep longings,

Interpreting its need;

No human heart could enter

Each dim recess of mine,

And soothe, and hush, and calm it,

O blessèd Lord, but Thine.

 

The third stanza brought my consciousness back as I remembered “The lady, her lover and her Lord by T.D Jakes. There are issues and aches that rise up in me, that even I do not understand. So how do I explain it to anyone? Only my manufacturer, I imagine, can understand. T.D Jakes while trying to explain a lover’s role and Jesus’ role in a lady’s life said, “But, in the stillness of the night, when he has gone to sleep and there are pending issues on her mind, it is her Lord who works the night shift and watches over her in the dark. He is the one whom she can talk to when her words cannot describe what she is feeling. Her husband may understand what she says, but her lord understands what she feels”.

No human can enter the deepest and darkest part of my heart to soothe, hush and calm it. Only the Lord.

 

I could not do without Thee,

For years are fleeting fast,

And soon in solemn oneness

The river must be passed;

But Thou wilt never leave me,

And though the waves roll high,

I know Thou wilt be near me,

And whisper, “It is I”.

 

Finally the last stanza came and tears rolled down my cheeks. People have left me and I have left people. Some people left because they couldn’t cope with my excesses and I don’t blame them one bit. Others left because I couldn’t meet up with their standards. I don’t blame them either. I pushed some away and they left. I cried over some and still didn’t even notice some leave. Some didn’t leave by choice. They promised never to leave but death took them away and it’s sad that nobody has power over death. Through all these human helplessness and limitations, I found someone that come what may, will never leave. “And though the waves roll high, I know thou wilt be near me, and whisper, “it is I”.

 

The church chorused an “Amen”.

 

-ChyD