...WHEN GOD DIED

 "...Nature trembled at this great alteration..."

 
He is the word made flesh
The Son of God of virgin birth
Like a lamb to a slaughter he was led
Not a protest, not a word said
A guiltless man persecuted and trialed
For your wrong and crime that was mine
On him our punishment was laid
Paying a debt we were too desolate to pay
Dragged to Pilate on that fateful day
He was handed over by the ones he came to save
Crucify him! Crucify him! The people roared
Rejected by his own, they had him flogged
Entering the hearts of men who gave him room
Lucifer unwittingly plotted his doom
They stripped and adorned him a scarlet garment
Setting on his head a crown of thorns they taunted
They spat on the king, struck him and hurled insults
While some gathered his clothes and cast lots
They scribbled an ode on his cross for fun
The written charge a veritable one
“This is Jesus, King of the Jews”
They said to scorn but it rang true
Because of my sins he was ill-fated
For cursed is he hung upon a tree
The soldier pierced him with no sensitivities
His pain stretching tautly to the extremities
And when on the Son laid our sins
The Father had to turn away from him
Seeing all had been accomplished
He breathed his last words, “It is finished”
The sun retreated then into its tent
Refusing to show the abomination of men
Nature trembled at this great alteration
A sinless blood, the atrocities of nations
The earth shook and trembled in fear
Throwing up bodies of men long dead
The curtain of the temple ripped apart
A sign of what should have been from the start
Now all who believe can walk in
Through the advocate, our High Priest
Ushering in an epoch of grace
One which welcomed all people, all race
To those captured by death he was the ransom
He paid the price in ways one cannot fathom
With foolishness, He confounded the wise
It was the unthinkable when God died.

Courtesy: lightstock

Side Note
You remember "Passion of the Christ?" Yeah. This is my own tired version. But, I'm telling you, this story is by no means finished. He died and guess what? He rose again. The only "Valentine" who lives to tell the story.

HE IS RISEN

CONFESSIONS OF A SHEEP

I am a sheep. My slightly drooped eyes and lazy trot tell the story. I am wandering, vulnerable. Dumb. Completely stupid and undiscerning. Even as I type these words, my mind screams, “NO”. I’m not any of those. I’m smart. Strong. Independent.

He laughs.

Not that raucous sneer a villain throws out when he has pinned down a victim. No. It’s the mildly amused, long suffering soft laugh a Father would give a child who thinks he can drive at age three. That kind.

I am undependable. Fickle. A prey to wolves. If I were left on my own, I would make fast acquaintance with one of them. He says I shouldn’t play with them but I stubbornly jut out my chin, stamp my foot and insist I know better.

Yet I laugh at Adam and Eve.

I am a sheep. Yes. And you know what more?

The Lord IS MY Shepherd.

I mean really. He is. Not me, no matter how foolishly I insist I know. He constantly is. No one else but Him. Mine. My very own Shepherd. And I'm not even paying.

Yes, I'm a Sheep.

I have all I ever need.

He relentlessly gives me fodder so I lack nothing. Not even a hair on my fur is amiss. Not even a parched throat or dehydration hits me. He gives me. All the time.

He MAKES me lie in lush pastures.

I pretend I know everything but I can’t even string two steps together enough to lay myself down. He has to do that for me. If I were left alone, I would struggle, bleat and grunt until I’m finally able to lie in soggy, stinking puddle. But HE MAKES me lie in GREEN PASTURES. He lays me down. Gently. Lovingly. In green, fresh, lush pasture. In abundance.

Sigh.

He leads me beside serene waters.

Not the turbulent, wild storms. But peaceful, restful waters. The ones I can even walk on.

He renovates my soul.

I fall. I stumble. I’m weak. He stocks me up. Refreshes me. Restores me. Strengthens me. No wonder he laughs when I think or dare say I am strong. HE is the strong one. Stupid sheep.

He leads me in righteous paths. For Him.

I am a very good person.Seriously. I promise. I don’t steal or cheat. I don’t even kill people. But then, I realized all that was raggedy. I DO NOT have to try SO HARD. He LEADS me in blameless paths. For His namesake. He will do it because, I’m telling you, His name is at stake here! If only I’ll let Him lead me.

Yes, even if I walk through the deep, sunless, shadow of death valley, I’m not scared because you are present with me.

Sometimes I will wander from your side and find myself in that deep, dreaded dark valley of death. Where all that surrounds me is empty, thick darkness and the sound of my own strained breath. But still you are there with me. Shame on fear. I’m not scared.

Yay!

You have a walking stick, with which you guide and help me. They bring me comfort.

I can hear your steady taps as I follow the sounds in the dark. I find you right here. In the pages of my worn out hard-back, labelled “Bible”. I find comfort here. Even in the dark.

You prepare a delicacy for me in front of my haters.

They are wolves. But there’s a meal for me. Before them. They salivate. Want to gobble my food and me up in one bite but God, you shame them.

You pour sweet scenting oil on my head until I have an overflow.

You have filled me thoroughly and truly with your oil. Your Spirit. You’ve dabbed me with all that you are. In excess. Which is why I wonder how I would decide to throw all that away in my moments of stupidity. Dumb, undeserving sheep. No wonder the devil hates me.

Most assuredly, goodness, mercy and unfailing love shall FOLLOW me, ALL my life and I’ll forever bask in Your presence.

All your goodness, all your love and grace will follow me. Not on twitter. But ALL the pages that you stuff into this wonderfully beautiful book that is my life.

Because I am a sheep. And He is my Shepherd.


Adapted from David’s Psalm – Psalm 23.

Side Note 
I’ve been musing on this Psalm lately and just couldn’t help it. I had to write it. It amazed me how many times I have recited this Psalm without even thinking about it.

Are you a Sheep?

VAIN BABBLINGS

I want to rant. And why not? It’s the fastest, easiest and most effective way to get your message across especially when people just would not pay attention. Then, place it on some obscure blog in the tangled mess that is the web for better effect. Works wonders. Right?

Okay, so that’s probably very inaccurate but what can a girl do?

There’s a certain disturbing practice that goes on in Christianity today, it’s so disturbing and so predictable that Jesus had to send us the red light beforehand, like, “I know you’re going to do this but before you do, here’s a tip…” I'm by all means guilty of this also.

I remember growing up in church, we were always asked to pray and boyy did I dread those Sunday schools. This isn’t the disturbing part. Wait for it.

See, we’d be asked to pray for a long time and well, since there are only so many words in an average nine-year old’s vocabulary, we quickly run out of what to say to God. What do we do? We recycle. Repeat some words and phrases – e.g. “Amen”, “Jesus”, “Help us”, “Please”, “Do this oh, Lord”, “Bless us, Lord”... the list goes on – as many times as humanly possible so we can improve our “time with God”.

Courtesy: flickr.com

Now, this isn’t even the major disturbance. Nope. It gets worse when adults – grown-up adults (forgive the tautology, but this is still a rant) – repeat the words in prayers for effect. I mean, really now. How short of words can we get?

Then, there’s the Church. When prayers get intense, we kick, yell, stamp around and repeat words in rapid successions (here’s a classic; “Shout Jesus seven times” or “Shout Amen three times”). I did these a lot. Church taught me but then I came across this scripture;

“But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking. Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.” (Jesus, in Matthew 6:7-8).

For starters, God is not deaf! Neither is he like that old man across our street whom we have to yell a sentence more than a few times before his ears can pick the signal. I mean, even if we thought He was, why not use sign language or something? Really, who do we think we are yelling at?

Secondly, God is not forgetful. We don’t have to repeat instructions (yes, that’s what we do half the time – give instructions) to Him because we’re scared He’ll forget. If we do that to humans, not to God.

Third, how many of us, when talking to our very-undeaf, very-attentive friend repeat a sentence or phrase over and again or in between sentences have to keep yelling his/her name while s/he has their eyes and ears glued to us? Really? You do? You need to change your friends.

If not then why do this to God, especially after we agreed that prayer is communication, people?

Lastly, and most importantly, how annoying do you think it is when a person keeps telling you something you already know? God knows us, my friend. He knows our needs. We don’t have to repeat them to Him before He gets it. Because really, he gets it!

And while we’re on that, I didn’t say we should not tell God what we want…noo!! In fact, He instructed we ask! Yet, I don’t think it’s nice when we do things to God we cannot accept or do even to ordinary men. It just goes to show how we view God. Yes, that’s all it boils down to. Our view of God. A God inattentive, unknowing, unreachable.

Maybe it's high time we took a serious look at the Gospels. We shouldn’t repeat our words to God. But then again, don’t go looking around your Webster’s when you want to pray! -__-

Think conversation! Think fellowship, my friend!

“And when you pray, do not heap up phrases (multiply words, repeating the same ones over and over) as the Gentiles do, for they think they will be heard for their much speaking. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” (Matthew 6:7-11 – Amplified Bible). 

Need I say more?

Side note:
I told you this was a rant.
Do things like these occur in your church? Tell me about them. Come on, humour me…

Just for the fun of it ;) - campusdiaries.com

OF WISH LISTS AND TO-DO NOTES

Hey!!!! :D   

So, a happy new year is probably still in order but I decided that would be tired. No point stating the obvious fact that I’m sooo out of tandem, I’m old school.

Moving on.

Have you ever come across one of these classic tag lines?

“My year of Divine Favour”

“My Year of Open Doors”

“My year of miraculous signs and wonders”

“My Year of Great works”

“My Year of……”
And the list goes on.

Well, if you come from the side of the great giant ball where I grew up, you’d probably be nodding away. But if not, well… you’d get a hang of it.

 Every New Year is usually laden with hopes, wishes and prayers; we wish, we hope, we pray that somehow, this New Year would end up better than the last. Resolutions, prayer points, tag-lines…anything, begin to suffice as we grapple for some kind of control in a world – our world – we perceive as less-than-perfect. And for a good reason.

A lot of people have emphasized the fact that our change doesn’t necessarily have to come with a new year, which is true. Repentance is a daily thing. Remember? But that’s not what this post is about. And that’s not also to say that I totally agree with dispensing with the implication of a new year.While growing up, I learned the classic art of New Year traditions; tagging along for cross-over services, following the “new year, new me” attitude, proclaiming one of those tag-lines…I even tried my hands at resolutions, but for me they were more wishing lists than “to-do” notes. I was not just benighted, I was painfully ignorant because, looking back now at the crystal ball that was my past, I can only shake my head, laugh and snort in self-derision at the amazingly unrealistic “resolutions” I made. And no…I’m not sharing any with you.

Then there were the tag-lines. All churches have them; “My year of…” well, I was caught in that ruse for long, even though at the back of my mind I kept thinking, “So, this year is ‘my year of great grace’. What if its “great love” I want?” But of course, this is a moot point because when the Man of God yells, “Receive it!” I can only chorus the “Amen!” No one ever rejects it.

Except then, for most of us, by mid-April (note: Best case scenario. Most don’t even make it to mid-January), it becomes just this fancy sticker we can have up our doors or car bumpers.

But the point still remains; “This New year, I want something. Preferably new. If it would take a resolution for me to get it, fine. If it’s a wishing (or prayer) list, okay with me. If it’s with the tag-lines I shallowly proclaim to encourage myself, no problem…this is MY year.”

But what if we are wrong? What if it’s not our year? What if it’s someone else’s turn? What if it’s God’s? What happened to giving God everything? What’s wrong with a nice little tag saying:

“God’s great year of harvest?”

“My year of surrender”

 “God’s year of praise”  ?

I do think we have missed the point. A new year isn’t about claiming new blessings for ourselves and seeking for ways to fix our lives so we can be more…“content” or “successful”. No. But just like every other year, every day, every hour, every second, it is one more opportunity to prepare ourselves for the ultimate happily ever after.

Eternity.

 “Then came the word of the LORD by Haggai the prophet, saying, Is it time for you, O ye, to dwell in your cieled houses, and this house lie waste? Now therefore thus saith the LORD of hosts; consider your ways.” (Haggai 1:3-5 – KJV).

We are just like the Children of Israel. After God delivered them from captivity, all they cared about was building their own houses and doing their own stuff. Telling themselves, “This isn’t God’s time yet. It’s not the time to build His house. It’s our time. It’s my time.”

No one’s saying you shouldn’t build and get a wonderful life. No. But let’s not get so tangled up in building our houses that we forget to build God’s.

My point? Please if you are one of those who think this is your year, Consider your ways. Make this God’s time. Instead of spouting the many things you want Him to do this year, how about being an answer to His prayer?

Pause.

Pay attention: HOW ABOUT YOU BE AN ANSWER TO GOD’S PRAYERS?
It’s so easy for us to see God as this mighty, unfeeling being. God has needs too. He has desires but we cannot even come close to sensing them unless we love Him. And we cannot love Him while we are busy building our structures and relegating Him to second place. While we are trying to cling to Him and our own selfish desires.

God is too big for second place.

God first yo’!

Side Note: You know I was considering an apololgy letter. The one featured by dozens of "sorries" and tonnes of trite excuses on why I haven't blogged in a while, but I'll spare you. *Sigh* Maybe I actually need a resolution more than I think. Probably something along the lines of; "To blog nine times a day." Hehehe!...I permit you to move that to the wish list category.

Oh well, A Happy, gracious 2015 y'all. God first yo’!

FORGETFUL ME

Yesterday was my birthday and it’s just so amazing how time imperceptibly tip toed past my beclouded – and yes, bespectacled – eyes. Eyes that were so busy roving over history books of yesterdays, clouded by the past that they forgot to see time dancing past.
 

I am particularly big on history. I believe, for one, that if we want to move ahead in the future and not make the mistakes we did in the past, there is a need to dust up our books and take stock. That sounds like a perfectly logical thing to do. Right?

Which was why yesterday, I decided to settle down and think of my past. I thought of my childhood (*smug smile* yes, I said childhood), my teenage years (ok, don’t roll your eyes now – I meant the major parts) and my…now. From where I sat on my bed that morning, the view looked very colourful, with some white, black, red, green and even grey areas. 

At that point I got confused; what part do I focus my lens on, really? Those times when I did things I wasn’t so proud of? Or those ones where I could beat my puffed up chest? Either way the lens went, one thing was evident, there was no helping my future with this. I tried so hard to spot mistakes and think up new strategies to advance. Nada. Zilch. Nothing! I tried resolutions and wishing lists. Didn’t work. Because somewhere in my heart I couldn’t find a motivation, a springboard to hop on to my new year.

I kept searching.

And searching….

Then it hit me! 

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” (Isaiah 43:19 - NIV)

I finally got it. God is doing something new! He is making ways and springing upwelling of waters. This is the trend. And He’s calling me, drawing my attention and wondering how I could be so alarmingly obtuse. “I’m doing it! Open your eyes and see it. Perceive it. Don’t be so insensitive”. There is relief for me in this arid place. There are spurts of revitalizing waters in this desert but somehow I couldn’t see it and God’s gift to me is this, “Look!”

But there is a problem.

The new is great and exciting. It is all I want and all I look forward to, old news is getting boring and frustrating. But there’s more to this promise than just looking and seeing it. To enter my brand new future, there has to be a “letting go”. I need to forget the past, no matter how ugly and frayed or how sparkly and glorious because going over history will keep me from the new, it would build a misty cloud over my eyes so I miss my “new” twirling past me.

 “No one cuts up a fine silk scarf to patch old work clothes; you want fabrics that match. And you don’t put wine in old, cracked bottles; you get strong, clean bottles for your fresh vintage wine. And no one who has ever tasted fine aged wine prefers unaged wine.” (Luke 5:36 – The Message).

So, no matter how much I fancy my old clothes, there is no patching them up with the new silk. Nope. God would not build a new skyscraper on an old foundation, he would not make do with the old. He would not build on my yesterday. I have to forget the past. Forget it and how comfortable it is, forget how cozy its familiarity feels, forget its glories and shame. Everything.

I’m dropping my thick-leather-back history tome, placing it in a fancy chariot and hurling it at a 60 degree tangent straight into the Red Sea; chariot and all.

I’m turning my back.

 

And I’m getting forgetful.

That. Is. My. Happy Birthday.

“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands.” (Isaiah 43:19 – The Message Bible).

HE WASN’T KIDDING! (II) – Wow!

 

There are a handful of things I could say I have learned from kids, that is, when I allowed myself look beyond the gurgles and wailings to the true essence of innocence, beauty and…wonder. A few of these I could see reflected directly in scripture’s directives.

One of them is WONDER. There was a time my little cousin was fascinated by butterflies. Most kids would squeal and run in circles when they saw one. Not my cousin. If he was squealing or running in circles, it was because he was too excited and wanted to catch the critter. He would “ooh!” and “aah!” all over, much to my irritation. I mean jeez, it was just a butterfly. Who stands wide-eyed at a flappy critter? Apparently, he did.

I am not wide-eyed.

And I say that with all sense of pride and smugness. Life and society have taught me to be practical. You are not a “village” girl. Staring wide eyed at city lights and buildings. Practicality…down-to-earth. It’s the stuff of sophistication and well…maturity. Of course, there are some occasions when I see something and go, “wow”, like say a technology or an art. But only those things I can understand, at least to the extent where I know it must have cost a lot to make it that “wow” inspiring. If God is too awesome for us, we’d probably probe and prod till we lose the stars in our eyes. We run to science to explain the phenomenon behind it. As if to say, “How dare You do something so amazing I can’t understand?” 

God is great, I say that all the time. But somehow it has grown so…familiar. Yeah, God parted the sea for His children to walk through, so what? It sounds cool but I wouldn’t allow myself drool all over my Bible because of it. He is God. He is expected to do these things, right? Besides, I’ve heard that a dozen plus times.

He stills the sun, he roars in lightening and cloud, formed the world in six days,  he walks on water, restores unseeing eyes, he multiplies loaves of bread…litters the pages of the Bible with awe-inspiring exploits and still manages to be everywhere at the same time. Yet, somehow I do not see the wonder in this. My eyes don’t grow wide, I don’t gasp and mouth “wow” in amazement, my mouth doesn’t go agape. It doesn’t occur to my slow brain and familiar heart that THIS IS NOT NORMAL. People don’t generally go about doing these kinda stuff.

“Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive and accept and welcome the kingdom of God like a little child [does] positively shall not enter it at all” (Jesus in Mark 10:15 – AMP)

But somehow I could feel God pulling my heartstrings with his word. He tells me to receive his kingdom like a child, first with blind-eyed belief, then with wide-eyed wonder and finally with open arms. JUST LIKE A CHILD. A child who somehow thinks everything is fascinating. A child who isn’t too familiar with the wonders of God. A child who would stop to stare at the vastness of the sky and cry, “look!”,  a child who jumps in excitement to see a bird. 

I’m not awesome, He is. He gracefully and powerfully causes His enemies to bow, He paints the sky with elegant and fluid strokes, splattering His nature all over for us to see, He provides meals from the sky, heals the sick, changes the heart of people.

Hangs on the cross.

He is awesome. And he has called me to receive the beauty of His kingdom. He didn’t call me to probe it. But to stand and watch with wide eyed wonder and parted lips at his bruised battered face, bloodied body on a wooden cross till I cannot but fall to my knees in worship. He has called me to the very Kingdom He purchased for me with his punctured hands, those same mighty hands that formed me…that same heart that loves me.

I am called to receive, called to accept, called to welcome. If the call was in a still small voice pulling my heart or in a thunderous voice accompanied by lightening, it is not my duty to probe it but to stand in wonder and brokenness and simply whisper, “Yes, Lord.” 

God wants me to worship Him in the beauty and wonder of His holiness and mightiness. His deeds and works should elicit wonder. His kingdom should not be one I take lightly because I’ve heard it a trillion times. His Kingdom should be one where its sheer beauty, power and righteousness causes me to be awed. 

  

I should receive His kingdom with a WOW!

"Let be and be still , and know (recognize and understand) that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations! I will be exalted in the earth!" (Psalm 46:10 - AMP)

Side note: When last have you allowed yourself give the skies more than just a passing glance? When last did you let out a shout of amazement because the wonders of God cannot be contained? When last did you wonder about the hand of God in a person?

Well, the other day, I was walking home and I was able to capture the sky on camera;

God is awesome.

Photo credit: via Lightstock