Sometimes I trust, most times I doubt
Sometimes, I trust God in the process
Most times, I doubt that the process will yield my expected outcome
So I pray, “Lord help my unbelief”
TC_writes
© 2025
Tag: trust
Chest Knot
Force yourself to sit.
Force yourself to wait.
Force yourself to trust.
Force yourself to forgive.
Force yourself to laugh.
Force yourself to write.
You can’t help that you fuss yourself—
So force yourself to leave the shelf
and let your path praise the Lord.
Bring me home, bring me home, Lord.
I’m looking for a different satisfaction.
Norm told us to steal and keep eating,
The team disbanded to hunt for new stories,
And the show goes on; the sun circuits still.
I need to practice letting God choose—
For present comfort is no guarantee.
Bring me home, bring me home, Lord.
Footsteps prince me a path through the din.
Hands that held my back now applaud my stumbling—
Speaking of my stumbling:
I was sipping last ones, hoping that the first won.
And the show goes on; the trump is still blown.
All my medals rust before the changing times,
for You, Lord, were my only true possession.
Bring me home, bring me home, Lord.
These scars will follow me into victory.
Rooftop farming—aura wasn’t the only fruit.
I have witnessed enough to shrug from a cloud.
Lord, please take the pen again; write me back to right.
Outside Your Word, there was treachery that paralyzed.
For You alone are truth,
and Yours walk beneath a different sky…
…beneath a different why.
Bring me home, bring me home, Lord—
everywhere I am.
Godzniel
©2025
Righteousness
Company man, my company’s manned by God
Heavenly HMO, I’m chewing his curd
Doing the Word,
He washed off my stains with his blood
I still pray my lust would just get lost
And I forget the things that he carved off
I just trust and lay hands with my hands off
Life is like a big book, everybody’s breathing ink
And we sign with things we do, say and think
And the righteous smile at the last blink
That’s a benefit of being in divine sync
Bibles are selfies of God with his Aloba
—throwback
Christ is still the capital and turnover
All over the world, bent knees still pullover
And I’m never switching off my inner light
Mark 4 velocity—shows you how a winner fights
John 3 & 5, one meeting healing many nights
Bread of Life,
Lord, let me get another tera bite
Righteous? Yes
— that is Christ’s success
I confess,
We are the truly blessed
Wherever we’re sent, they are blessed to receive
Oh, if they only believe
Godzniel
© 2025
Mustard Burial
God’s man ultra—Faith staying mustered
Happy ever mountain, started out mustard
Blood flow thicker than a bucket of custard
Not once a month but all the months
With just a touch
—the tale of man is turned
Into a testimony
Resting on the—
Words of Yahweh on me.
Working out delight with trembling,
Shaking out the doubt and trusting Him.
I—
Am more surrendered
And flesh gets murdered
I saw that sample in the Son of Man
—saw that apple but I dodged her hand
Some trust apps but I trust the lamb
We die so that we can live on brand
Godzniel
© 2025
Be Still My Soul
Be still my soul
The Lord is in control
Be still my soul
There is more than you know
Be still my soul
The troubles are but smoke
Be still my soul
Christ is your assured hope
Be still my soul
You will be made whole
Be still my soul
See what the Lord has done
Ezeonyeka Godswill
© 2025
A tale of compassion and faith
Penspeak Communities across Nigeria have recently taken up Freestyle Fridays hosted by The Godzniel. This is a collection of poems from Penspeak Community UNEC freestyles in January 2025.
From the watchtower, Iruoma cried out:
I am compassion, a gentle breeze
That calms a raging soul and quiets pain to freeze
I run in obscurity, yet understanding I seek
To heal a silent wound that mouth can’t utter
Like flower that blooms in desert oasis
So am I, a savour taste to the broken soul
I’m a badge of mercy, worn by one who’s torn
An irresistible gentle word, that calms a storm
I see beyond the fist, the anger and pain
And serve a feast of kindness, to wash the heart’s deep stain
I’m a dose of hope, that keeps each day aglow
A beacon of light, in the darkest place I go
I am compassion, I offer listening ears
Pay attention and owe no debt to negligence
I am the greatest gift to humanity
The loudest voice of love
I walk enduring miles
Leaving trails of smiles
Taking the wheel again, Iruoma launched:
With heart swift and low on paths unknown
I plead to listen to the quiet whisper, that binds me whole
With convictions strong on choices made
I plead to heed the persistent voice of truth
With barns so enriched, and yards full of glittering gold
I pray to harvest, with mind full of sight
To sift grain from chaff, and separate truth from false
And with each step to embark, a journey of uncertainty
I pledge to trust the gentle guide
For He’s the spirit of the divine, with mysteries to unveil
He grants a sense of immortality, in the stillness, a peaceful knowing of secrets untold.
And moments to disobey in doubt, are times to will in regret
Not wanting the momentum to die out, Neche Goodnews took the baton on the relay:
“Wish upon a shooting star and make your wish come true”
Senior said to me as we stared at the night sky
“So, make the wish”, he said to me as I was beholding the awe of the star littered sky
I close my eyes and make my wish and open my eyes into the present
A decade had gone by but I still reminisce the days gone by
I fasten up my tie while facing the mirror
What a decade it has been
Peril and strife fought their way into my world but I persevered
The psychological breaks and lapses chipped away at my very soul but I didn’t derange
As I go towards my bag, a thought enters my mind and a smile is found on my face
“Your wish is profound and pure, its impact, ground shaking, all I might not see it actualised but I can behold its potential”
Senior said to me, that was one of our last conversations
“It’s no time to slack, the world will soon be in awe”
I say as I take my bag and leave my place
People see the outcome of reality
I behold a future of possibilities
My wish would ensure that
Until then, I carry on
See you next month!
Authors:
Iruoma
Neche Goodnews
ROOTING DEEP
There’s power in staying rooted,
In leaning into God’s word,
Where roots stretch deep in quiet places,
Unseen, but steady and sure.
The seed is planted in faith,
Watered with patience and trust,
No rush, no shortcuts—
Just the process of becoming.
It’s not flashy, not instant,
Not for those chasing quick results,
But for those willing to wait,
To trust, to grow, to endure.
Like the coconut tree that stands tall,
Bearing fruit all year long,
The waiting is hard, the work is slow,
But the harvest is always worth it.
- IfiokAbasi Okop
(c) 2025
As bold as a lion
Me: But we’re meant to be sheep, meek, lowly, tamed, unconfrontational, peace-loving – quiet. How do you juxtapose that with “as bold as a lion”?
Him: I am The Lion and the Lamb
Me: Lord, that’s you, I could never be you.
Him: I have called you to be like me. You are part of me.
Me: But I can’t Lord, I can’t be bold, I am frail and weak, I show no strength. I’m easily tossed about. I’m constantly seeking the peace and the quiet but everything’s loud, sl loud.
Him: In this world, you will have trouble but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.
Me: The world you sent me to is sucking the life out of me.
Him: I am the Way, truth and life
Me: It is flooding my heart and my mind with irrepressible thoughts of inadequateness, incompleteness, emptiness, and frailty.
Him: I am your joy and your strength.
Me: Then why can’t I fight back? Why do I always have to suppress those thoughts, hoping they can go away, but you know they never do? Why do I just cry and cry and hope no one sees me crying and then I cry some more? Why does it feel like I’m failing you? You’ve put so many things in my hands, and I can’t juggle them to perfection, and it crushes me to think that I’m a failure in your sight. I want to run away from everything, I don’t want any of it anymore.
Him: Be still and know that I am God. I’ve been through everything you’ve been through and more, and that’s how I know you can be as bold as a lion.
Me: How?
Him: Because I haven’t given you a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind.
Me: I don’t feel like that.
Him: Walk by faith, not by sight.
Me: But I’m failing you!
Him: Did you ever hear me say that?
Me: Nope.
Him: So why do you think that?
Me: Because I haven’t met my goals for the year.
Him: Who set those goals?
Me: I did. I needed to. Otherwise, I’d be lazy and complacent.
Him: Then you should have asked me for strength and grace when you needed it. You should have committed your ways to me, and I would have ordered your steps. You shouldn’t have looked away from me and focused on yourself. You are frail, but I am your strength. You can’t accomplish anything outside of me, and guess what? I never leave you. I’m right here. Always here.
Me: Lord…
Him: When I say that you are as bold as a lion, I mean that because I am with you, you are as bold as a lion. I am the lion and the lamb, I strengthen you and keep you humble. You just have to trust me.
Me: 😭😭😭😭 I still have those thoughts, I can’t seem to stop them.
Him: Sing a new song to me. Take a walk through my words. Talk with my Spirit. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. My yoke is not heavy. It’s light. So, don’t take on what I didn’t give to you. Bask in my presence, take in deep breaths, and take a slice of heaven wherever you go. Only when you do this will boldness, joy, and strength always be with you.
IfiokAbasi Okop
©2024
Christ a poet 