He made you, patiently knit you,
Each strand purposefully chosen;
Shades of colours, textures and strength,
His hands went over every piece,
His breath filled every part;
He looked and said, ‘It is good, it is unique,
It’s another masterpiece.’
“The wind under the wings of those who put their trust in God is ever present grace. For when the mighty in Christ fall, they fall to their knees to rise again, higher than they were before. It is that cushion that breaks the fall of the righteous, and doubles as a springboard to higher heights.” – Makafui.
“I stepped into the streets one morning only to notice that the sidewalk was littered with little broken pieces of my heart and psyche. So here I am, on a beautifully overcast morning, standing on the sidewalk, wondering how I still look functional.” – Makafui.
If I had the opportunity to choose my own father,
I wouldn’t choose him because of his wealth,
Or because of his looks – not colour, hair, gait, height or weight;
I wouldn’t choose him because of how well read he is, but for his wisdom;
Me calling you ‘father’ is a heavy responsibility I lay at your feet,
Which you take with grace.
I do not contest against my ignorance,
Nor do I argue against my inadequacy.
I do not deny that I desire to be a saint,
Nor do I not realise the fear I harbour
Of falling short – far too short.
The sound my heart makes when it breaks in repentance;
The echoes that follow my steps as I come into Your presence;
The clash when my knees hit the ground in reverence;
Every beat of my heart, reminding me of Your goodness;
What does it mean to be called a child of God?
What price is enough, to be called by His name?
I may not completely understand the depth of the mystery;
I can definitely not afford, and am unworthy of bearing the cost;
But I am called by His name, by the working of Grace.