“We are in a time and season where ‘wearing a mask’ is no longer just a philosophical or psychological or social euphemism, but a socio-medical necessity and in some places a legal injunction. What a transformation there would be though, if the putting on of physical masks connoted the taking off of the invisible masks that men have been known to wear to hide insecurities and cover-up hurts and propagate cruelties. Then maybe we would see each other for who we are, get the help we need, and heal; Then maybe we would all see that we are all not that different from each other – that we are all frail and insecure by ourselves, and that our masks, irrespective of size or design, have done nothing but deceive us – giving us false security and offering us up to vain gods; Then maybe we will all learn that only by baring ourselves before He who made us, are we made whole.” – Makafui.
“The worst kind of scars are those that cover unhealed wounds; Scars that are still painful to touch, reacting to even the gentlest of caresses with reflexive responses that spit in the faces of good-will and love. But there’s hope for tomorrow and today; Scars must tell their stories, but they should not control destiny.” – Makafui.
“We’ve come full circle, haven’t we?
In the beginning you were Mine, and I loved you.
I adored and pampered you; you had My presence,
Saw My face, heard My voice. I spoke to you
Among the trees like one to his beloved,
With whispers, and caresses, and warnings;
You were lovely, and innocent and glorious;
You made Me smile, because I looked at what I had made,
And knew it was good; Without blemish, not lacking
In purpose or power, in beauty or wisdom, in love or grace.
You were My delight, My treasure, My pleasure.
“Now this life is the ultimate adventure, the divinely rigged game of ‘Hide and Seek’ of epic proportions on a universal scale. He says “Seek, and you shall find…” The search is an exhilarating thrill, not finding is of terrible consequence. So I seek, with all I am.” – Makafui.
When my heart becomes Yours and Your taste lingers on my tongue;
Because You’ve wooed me, and called me to taste and see how sweet.
When I breathe in Your presence with each passing breath;
Feel it pass from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet – empowering.
When I feel Your caress with every rubbing of my clothes,
Reminding me even in the darkest of moments how close You really are.
Are there words enough,
To describe the works of His hands;
To list and ascribe the honour due Him
From ages past to the very next breath?
It is not a matter of length,
For even in every single breath,
Lies an enigma simply stated, but utterly confounding.
Are there words enough?