I’m unqualified to write about fatherhood,
I have enough trouble just being a son;
Yet the thought is one that weighs heavily on the mind…
I realise I’m caught in a cycle where sons become fathers:
How would it feel to have a son today,
Who treats me like I treated my father yesterday,
And treats his son tomorrow like I treat him today – blessing or curse?
“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.
When the past, long thought dead, suddenly becomes the present…
Of course, it’s usually the unwanted past that creeps up – go figure…
So sly, playing possum, waiting for that atmosphere – the crack in the psyche.
For it knows, that with the pressures of life come cracks and fractures;
And oftentimes the more rigid the structures, the deeper the damage,
The louder the snaps, and the more forceful the bursts.
“Encountering God in His Word is beautiful, but can be scary sometimes. He has the tendency to turn your mind and worldview inside out…I think He enjoys it – re-educating His little children.” – Makafui.
#Job 38, 39
I’ve taken on an ambitious project;-
To paint a picture of ‘Motherhood’
With as few words as possible,
And from an already limited vocabulary.
Obviously I got stumped even before I began,
Because I was faced with a simple question:
‘When does it begin, and where does it end?’
Here’s a story for those who love such things:
I was once a man (seems like so long ago) who didn’t have much,
But I knew how to love, and loved all I had.
One day I got something I grew to adore and prize
Above all else I had, and I desired not much more.
But not long after, I began to lose the little that I had.
After each loss, I would say to myself and to Him on my knees,
‘I’ve lost something quite dear, but I’m still grateful.’
“The book of the mysteries of fate is written with the pen of faith. Dark nights and cloudy days may be fate, but they can not put out the flames of faith.” – Makafui.
“Heavy lies the crown of fear on the shoulders of the hopeless. It weighs down the thoughts and steps, shortens the arms and blinds the eyes. Fear feeds itself with kin and kind, till all that’s left is absolute despair. The crown of peace is a crown of reeds – light and friendly, almost a halo. Readily available, but easily taken off. Adorn your heart in royal apparel, and don on the crown of peace each day’s dawn.” – Makafui.
At a point in my walk it dawned on me that I had been trying to play chess with God. I had been trying to get a ‘feel’ of how He works, when He moves, and how He moves, and what He moves for; So I could make my decisions with His moves in mind – no, not against Him – that would be worse than ridiculous; It’s more like we’re on the same team with no well-defined captain, and whoever moves first plays. Clearly, I haven’t exactly understood the concept of surrender or yielding. It’s a very frustrating game to play; with my mind telling me I ought to be winning and my conscience asking me what I think I’m doing. My eyes see clearly that things are not going the way I expect, but my hand keeps moving anyways, making the next best move even as I ask God why He isn’t playing.
Worship is me – good ol’ me, lying late and rising early
Thinking and writing about worship at the break of dawn;
It is you reading my words and reflecting on the nature
Of the worship you’ve offered and desire to offer.