“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.
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.
Truth be told, I’m cold;
But it’s not really me, it’s my heart that’s cold;
There was a time when my heart felt like molten gold,
Impassioned with zeal and love for the Lord;
Now, here’s an empty cold vessel made of gold;
It’s laden with dust and hidden out of sight;
But out of sight, is a dangerous place to be.
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;
There is something that I need to see,
Something I need to write.
Is it beauty, or glory;
Maybe grace personified?
The countenance of kindness,
The colour of wrath,
Following the echoes in the dark corridors of time,
I make my way along the thread of Fate;
Armed only with a firm conviction – Faith;
The hope of a Light at the end of the tunnel;
So I take a step, gently, confidently, cheerfully;
Place one foot in front of the other.
When everything threatens to fall apart;
When I lift up my eyes, and there seems to be nothing to see;
When I look down, and it feels like I’m standing on nothing but hot air;
When my faith is tossed, and trembling under the load of circumstances;
When I’m on the verge of running out of tears to shed,
And tear tracks have formed a speedway along my cheeks;
Oh, how quickly they fall…tell me not about how the mighty have fallen;
No, I am not a man of many sorrows, because He has called me by name.