Through His death and resurrection, I have been reborn!Angela Ebisike
There was a man who came from God.
His name was John.
He wandered through the wilderness
With nothing on.
He ate whatever crossed his path,
The desert’s gifts,
He never bathed; he had no friends,
He was a cousin of Our Lord
Through his mama,
And learned the Prophets and Torah
From his papa.
When God told him the time was ripe,
He left his cave,
And went down to the riverbank,
His soul to save.
He preached the coming Kingdom,
Then, full of grace,
He knew the true Messiah when
He saw his face.
“It is my cousin, Jesus!” said he,
In wild surprise,
As Jesus gazed at him with
He heard, “This is the end of the
The beginning of the end,
The blood she shed was all her own.
She’d found no way to staunch the flow
For twelve long years.
The cost to her in doctors’ care
Was nothing to her shame and her enormous fears.
Unclean and thus untouchable
She knew she’d live and die alone in blood and tears.
The world had turned its back on her
And all she saw and all she touched was tinged with red.
Denied the right to worship God,
Denied the Temple courts by law, her soul was dead.
Denied all comfort, love of friends
And touch of man, she kept alone her blood-stained bed.
Her last hope lay in this new man,
But with her touch she’d make him, too, unclean, outcast.
And should she even hope for help?
Of all the people God might heal she was the last.
For it was God who sent the curse,
The blood and shame, the loneliness, through Laws He passed.
In spite of all these doubts and fears,
Mistrust of God, she took her chance – a touch unseen.
Then, Jesus, the untainted, changed the Law to Love.
Her world became new, fresh and green.
The blood He shed was all his own,
And flowing down it covered her and washed her clean.
Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
“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
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
But as the cold world closes in, we think
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
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
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
Take me back to Gwags;
Let me remake the lags and crags that tripped me forward into UNN.
I thought myself a goner, no Arsenal, and yet I won the war with a few good men.
Barely two years into
UNN my issues
Pointed me to people
Who would grow me into
Feet that would fill great shoes
Burst ma brain, no pimples
I ran into you people
Now I’m pretty grateful
So if you take me back to Gwags
I won’t need the swag
That once was a must-have
No, right now, I have Christ
That sure peace I roll on
That faith is my profession
Tertiary choices once lay ahead of me
A barrier between
the now then and this
I chose first indeed
But God will have his
Abrahaming through lands,
I was my own Isaac – the Son was in the Man
God asked for my sacrifice
I kept dodging all his eyes
I thought that I was wise
Arguing through all his whys
But let me remake
The crags and lags that made
me trip into UNN
Let’s see what happened then…
The Niel Quchi
What to wear up to stage
Shoes to fit the new age
Kicks that show I kick it
Will the camera catch it
Crocs are so my favourite
When my passion’s burning bright
I’ll be slaying tomatoes
Body art to my toes
Sandals used to be enough
Multitasking through the rough
Who cares what I clothe my feet
As long as I am gospel fit
The Niel Quchi
When I was born
I knew not love begot me
Though I journey through life
Unsatisfied even as I live
Until I journeyed a great distance
I came to the cross
Love change my story
No need to say goodbye or sorry
With fitful glimmer burnt my flesh
His Flame of love consume me
Jolted within me as a sweet
And holy madness
Flowed from my lips
Like a molten gold
My heart fit to break
For the Sinner’s sake
That in this state Christ died for
Even as Love seeks
Can’t be quiet have become lovesick.
And grace found me at the foot of the steps where I stumbled
He led me into a reverie of affections
And taught me how to make love with my emotions
And Grace found me picking doubt from my rag toothed skeleton
He asked me how I’d survived without the love of Christ
In the oxygen depleted pond of atheism
And Grace found me remunerating inside the tunnel of avarice
For the love of money is the stem that upholds deception
Broken dry Reed called Egypt that can’t be any souls trust
And Grace found me lingering about the field of blood
Waiting to retrieve the thirty pieces of silver
Instead of shouting maranatha with the 120 in the upper room
And Grace found me in the valley of mundane things
Brazilian hair, iPhone 6x, faultless make up, designer dresses
And all those cravings that sounds strange to Holy Mary
And Grace found me yet he wasn’t judgmental
He asked me why I was still babbling in unknown tongues
Instead of fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit
And Grace found me with the gift of a clean shave
Got rid of my eagle-feathered hair and bird claw nails
It’s been seven millennia wandering in the field of unbelief
I’d never imagined going through such quick transformation
Like Joseph’s speedy status change
Until I was discovered by Grace