Sometimes, when you thread an unfamiliar path, with no guide, except the one who called you to walk in uncharted waters, There are days you cannot shake off the voices that say, “You will die on this path”

 Sometimes, when fear casts its shadow, and the light shining on the days set before you seems to wane, there are days you cannot help but say, “Jesus, I can’t really see what’s ahead of me, Just let me go back to where I was coming from”.

 Sometimes, when death prowls, and you crumble under the weight of your mortality, there are days you cannot but long for the breath of the Holy One, saying, “there is still life here”

 Sometimes, when the gale blows rapidly against your chest, and the waves begin to haul their fists desperately at you, there are moments you simply need the Lord your God to echo; “Peace be still.”

 Sometimes, when the night threatens, the storm lingers, and you need more than the ledge above the sea to keep your head above the billows. There are days you want to hear the voice that says, “Come, I have walked this path before”.

 So, in the midst of this, you sit at the edge of your strength, wondering if that is where the song fades

You search, frantically at first, then slowly, hoping to find the light that will guide you home.

You stare still into the night, longing to hear the watchman’s whistle as he beckons to your weary soul.

You sing, and you strum heavily, hoping the broken string would still somehow strike a love note.

And with the raspiness in your breath,  you mutter, just like Lazarus,  “my Lord will come”,

 Then one day, in the midst of that, heaven leans over and whispers a word to your soul, and you say, whoaaaaaa, “where did that come from?”

In the midst of that, the Lord commands the wind, the sun and the moon to speak their wonders to your dimming sight.

At that exact moment, He leans over and whispers, “Dear child, when I said that I would breathe life into you, put meat on your bones, and cover you with skin, what did you think I meant?”

Or when I said I would raise a standard when the enemy comes rushing like a flood. What came to your mind?

Or when the choir sang “Ojo Motin rokun ko gberi, Ojo mo tin rosa komagbe, Ojo motin rorun kojalule ise Oluwa wa ni, Kole Baje oo, Kole Baje oo, Ise Oluwa Kolebaje o”  What did you think they meant?

Did you see the wonders of my mercy and the richness of my benevolence? 

Did you see the birds as they danced to the sound of the flappings of my love for you?

Did you see the depth of my thoughtfulness and the air in my wings? 

Did you pick your bed and walk at the sound of my voice?

Did you sing at the top of your lungs despite your broken string? 

Did you jam your strings, harps and tambourine at the sound of the “song of songs”?

Did you hear my whisper to your soul, reminding you of how you came to be and the breath that formed you?

Did you hop on one leg and dance to the tune of the words that now form your breath?

Did you see the fire in my eyes, the healing in my wings, the breath in my nostrils, longing to draw you?

Did you hear my voice telling you that I am still here, and you can go on, to be…

Because I need you to see, and I need you to believe me when I say that

“I am the Lord your God, and I make an army out of lifeless bones.”

 

© Iyanu Fatoba