Deciding Tears

Was reading Judges 19-21 wishing I wasn’t all the while that I was. For me, its hands down, the most terrible story in the Bible. Remember the one about the Levite and his concubine? Always leaves me…in another not so good place… for days after I read it.
Anyway, I learnt from it how a single decision, a deeply personal decision, can affect a nation – in devastating ways. Without giving all the details, so the story goes, a woman decides her lover is not enough for her, finds another then takes off home to her Daddy. Her lover, a priest decides that he cannot live without her, leaves his duty post and goes off to woe her. The woman softens her stance and decides to take the priest – her lover – to meet her daddy. Her daddy decides he really likes this one…and decides to keep him for a few days – longer than the priest planned to stay, since he has a job to return to. On the fifth day, the priest decides to break free from his darling’s daddy’s manipulation and return home late in the afternoon. Home is not close by, so the priest decides to take refuge among those like himself – it would be too dangerous to find lodging among those unlike himself. After hanging out in the Quad for some time, an old man takes pity on him especially upon learning that the priest is from his original home, and decides to take the priest, his wife, his servant and two donkeys home with him.
Some time in the night, some young men decide the priest is too irresistible a guest not to be intimately partaken of – in a sexual way. They howl at the old man’s door and finally the priest’s resolve breaks…and he…throws out the woman he has gone through extended leave to bring back home. He decides it is better her than him…and the men glut on her…internally break her to pieces. She decides to crawl back to the old man’s house and dies face down with one arm penitently stretched into the threshold of the house. Her lover, the priest, decides to take off from this place as early as he can, but has to step over her to get onto his donkey – he decides to finish the journey with her body. Back home, not at work, he decides to break her remains into twelve parts and send this to the twelve tribes of Israel. Israel decides to come to him, to find out why. The priest tweaks his story a little, he decides to, so that the villains do not include him, but are those lustful sons of Benjamin…. Benjamin decides not to release the criminals…after all they are a super power unto themselves and can take on the nations of Israel single-handedly. They after all posses the war personnel to shame all warriors, and it was possibly against their national policy to surrender their nationals to those who are not Benjamin…even when they had committed crimes against humanity.
Well – God saw one of His little girls die…took into account her last moments and decides to arise – The Avenger, the Man of War…God The Just Judge…nothing escapes Him. Before the week is over, about 90,000 of a nation’s best warriors are in eternity. And they are not just from the offending tribe’s side. A daughter of Israel died. More than this, an entire tribe is wiped out leaving just 600 hiding behind a rock. Israel mourns one of their own…and decide to rebuild that tribe. 600 young women are not asked whether they would choose to participate in this ‘noble’ endeavor…a town is wiped out of all its inhabitants save 400 ‘useful’ virgins. 200 hundred others are basically kidnapped as they dance at a religious festival. Decisions were made by their kinsmen…and they are the ‘clean-up team’. For life. They did well…Israel’s first king came from these chaos and ashes. Because in their day, Israel had no king, and everyone did as they chose to.
May my one decision, a breath at a time, always Lord, be an echo of Your Wisdom, and birth Healing, Life, Resurrection, Order, Peace…produce what is like You. Shalom.
vipslit@yahoo.ca
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‘Nyasaye Ramafundu’

Am reading through Genesis 14 and the words that keep coming in my spirit – in worship – are ‘Nyasaye Ramafundu’. Not flattering on their own – and seemingly contradictory because how can The Almighty and Holy God be perplexingly uncouth at the same time? Actually the two words perplexingly uncouth do not adequately encapsulate the depth of the Luo word ‘ramafundu’ – but its a beginning.
 
Am looking at God in His identity as Commander of His hosts – The Living God. He has liberated His own and He is leading them home…but they keep camping within Egypt at His leading. To those watching them, they seem confused, undecided, as though they are flirting with the idea of going back into captivity…but they are truly led of God. He leads them to a point governed by a popular but offensive deity. Pharaoh is now probably laughing at them – believing them to be lost and easy prey. he probably thinks that they are like him, quick to forget the searing punishment that Egypt has suffered for trying to retain this very same people…but Egypt will remember. Very soon.
 
On Israel’s part- they are actually thinking of going back, believing themselves to have been duped by God; drawn out to die in the wilderness. They follow God and His servant, mostly with barely concealed hostile mistrust of His intentions. They do not see His battle plan – that He is fighting for them and that they are on the verge of one of the most memorable breakthroughs of all time.
 
Anyway – ‘Nyasaye Ramafundu’ – God is perplexingly uncouth: He allows Egypt to pursue Israel on their fastest and best vehicles…and then begins to cause mayhem right in the middle of Israel’s breakthrough. He throws off Pharaoh and his army’s wheels as they ride along. God does not have to fight conventionally…truth is, there is no set pattern by which He fights. The Creator is creative even in battle. Egypt finally gets its but its too late…“Let us flee from the face of Israel, for the Lord fights for them against the Egyptians.”vs 25. Be wary of the seeming or sometimes actual confusion of those being led by God on a way that you have never been. it may just save you life to hesitate before you pursue them with words and actions that you are sure would destroy them…confidence that is not backed by God is just that – unbacked by God.
#TheLivingGod #GodofWar #AlmightyandTerrible #NyasayeRamafundu
vipslit@yahoo.ca

Harvest Pursuit

What did you do with your elevation – your promotion? Did you use it to build or destroy lives? When we are or seem to be at an advantage, what we choose to embrace to the harm of another has the tendency of ‘imagining’ that we desire it for ourselves: it then begins its pursuit to be established in our lives – pressed down, shaken together and to the overflow. It’s not therefore always the system, witch or satanic agent pursuing you – but your own harvest. I implore us, to be careful how and what we are tempted to sow into the lives of others especially those we have judged adversely (as forsaken, powerless or wanting in some way)…because Life ensures that we reap…unless of cause, genuine repentance is met by God’s Amazing Grace. Shalom.
 
““Because you have had an ancient hatred, and have shed the blood of the children of Israel by the power of the sword at the time of their calamity, when their iniquity came to an end, therefore, as I live,” says the Lord God, “I will prepare you for blood, and blood shall pursue you; since you have not hated blood, therefore blood shall pursue you.
 
“I will do according to your anger and according to the envy which you showed in your hatred against them; and I will make Myself known among them when I judge you. Then you shall know that I Am The LORD. I have heard all your blasphemies which you have spoken against the mountains of Israel, saying, ‘They are desolate; they are given to us to consume.’ Thus with your mouth you have boasted against Me and multiplied your words against Me; I have heard them.”
 
‘Thus says The LORD God: “The whole earth will rejoice when I make you desolate. As you rejoiced because the inheritance of the house of Israel was desolate, so I will do to you; you shall be desolate, O Mount Seir, as well as all of Edom—all of it! Then they shall know that I Am The LORD.” “
Ezekiel 35:5-6, 11-15

Mud in the House of God

Its been weeks of this…pain…increasing pain, escalating pain –  and then its been a week of intense pain.  I am sitting at a women’s meeting in a church near where I have walked my walk of faith for the last seven years. The worship has bought me peace but the pain, the darkness that clings tenaciously around my heart and head. I deny the weariness I have felt. The onset of my menses come with the call from God and His chosen servant to go in a fast, for this in indeed the gong of a new season. I have danced this morning, for the songs God chose for His daughters this day, resonate with the balm my entire life craves. I am not trying to impress God, nor any of His daughters…am fighting to find Him in this situation. I want to see my Daddy Eternal.

You see, with the silence of family- of friends, with the advice that I have received that points more to the grave…echoes the hollow taste of being useless to the world because you have measured your life by the standards of a system under which you no longer operate. I hear in my mind – a lot – “Did God really say that to you?” “But that is not really God’s MO.” “If this is how God treats you, then I would not follow Him.” “You are foolish to throw your entire lot with Him – you must leave Him just a little and throw your whole lot into surviving this world.” And the ache of hearing the comforted comfortable with whom I have stood saying to me “Your life is worth nothing without money – now look, where will you and your family live.”

I look down at my shoes, cheap rubber shoes, precious to me for they are a sign of a walk I have taken with my God. They remind me of the day God took me to view a house in an area I would never have afforded,even if i had turned my back to Him when He took me on this beloved stroll. They remind me of the many places, the many gates I have knocked, the many doors slammed on my face, the trips to my ATM – hoping and them weeping. They remind me of the morning, earlier this week, when I dared try take a step without them and ended up back home in less than five minutes with muddy sewage clinging on my sandled feet, all the way up my thighs, and up my beautiful orange dress and my sleeveless arms after falling into a pool that stood between me and the place I needed to get to. They remind me of both my yielded obedience, and my attempts at rebellion. They have dust atop and mud on their soles. I look at the floor around my feet and the black sooty mud particles that have soiled the portion around where I danced before weariness took over.

I look at the room full of women, and the aches of their journeys, their triumphs and their defeats crowd in on me. I begin to pray for them. I talk to their Father and mine, I ask Him to meet them here, because they woke up this cold morning to meet Him. I join in to their ululations, their worship of The King of kings, I sit down to listen to the woman of God. Then my phone rings and I see that its Daddy calling and the dams break for me. For the last eight weeks since this orgy of pain begun, i have longed to see his name on my ringing phone – I have longed for his voice telling me that it would be well…but there has been silence. And now I am not able to take his call. The tears escape and flow fast onto my dark blue skirt as I disconnect and text him a short message “I am in church.” I find out later, that he had not really called – his android reached out to me in error. But by then, I am frozen from all the weeping I  have done before The Throne of my Eternal Daddy. Why hasn’t He come? Why is my rescue and that of my family taking so long?

I look to my feet…there is sooty mud under my cheap but faithful rubber shoes…and I have caught the eyes of those that try not to stare at them – the combined dust and mud that have encased my feet. I have a race to run. I rest.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

My One Time at a Time

Many times, you cannot imagine it getting to where you hope it will not: then it does, and God Alone holds you as you take a step at a time. A breath at a time. A word at a time. A tear at a time. A smile at a time. An ache at a time. A lifetime at a time. Sometimes a kick at a time, a setback at a time, an insult at a time, then back to a breath at a time, and His Embraces – one at a time.
Hope has endured. I look at another sunset, and the horrors of the night it heralds, but also the amazing view of what God’s words alone can create and sustain as I look at the moon, the stars, the clouds and sometimes encounter creatures that He made to conquer the nights.
So its gotten here, excruciatingly so, but how else would I have known His enduring Love, Might and Friendship here, if I hadn’t walked this night with Him? So I take another step, another breath, take in another bout of pain, block another onslaught of fear in His Might and allow His Word to take me in and hold me and mine within His Promise, Himself. I rest. I rest. In His Everlasting Arms. I rest.
vipslit@yahoo.ca

Bird Call

So I woke up this morning. I tried to get out of my bedding but was struck by the heavy implications of this day coming at me – headlong and in full speed. I lay my head back on the pillow as a deep darkness sought to overwhelm and drag me to a place I no longer had the strength to dwell in or out of on my own. I heard my Forever Friend whisper in answer to my unspoken plea for a particular breakthrough “Not today beloved.”
At least I knew what to expect from this day – I encouraged myself as the darkness rushed at me. But The Holy Spirit is never asleep and I heard my mouth begin to pray: And my heart to reminisce – especially to the beginning of the last ten years. And the words that poured out of my heart – battling painfully with my determined enemy were those of thanksgiving. God took me back to a time I was facing a similar situation but was even more frightened and reminded me that He had taken me through. And that opened a floodgate of thanksgiving. Thanksgiving from various places I was now privileged to remember during that period. Slowly the darkness dissipated and I was now overwhelmed by peace. I got up, drank my bottle of water, folded my bedding and packed them neatly into a large shopping bag.
Then I sat. And the darkness that I thought had given up on me for the day, returned. I faced head-on the meaning and possible implications of my Forever Friend’s words. At least I knew. But just in case He had forgotten, my mouth opened and I began to speak from a place of pain, despair, fear even…and peace fought back. The battle in me evoked tears. More sad words poured out of my mouth – honest words, then I heard what to me sounded like a crowing of a cockerel. I tried to push it back but another, and then another rang out. At the third cry, I heard the words coming out of me change to repentance as I wept. The frantic crowing went on until the bird had vented seven or eight soul piercing sounds…then silence. I continued to pray, to repent, and when the darkness had passed, got up and took a bath.
I realize that this is battle. I have had one other session of thanksgiving, this time going back to the time of my children’s birthing. The peace has prevailed but I am alert to the possible attack of the darkness. As I stood outside trying to catch a bit of the lingering warmth of the sun, I noticed a mother hen walk by followed by her four beautiful white and light brown chicks. It sank then – the trumpet had been sounded by a mother hen, and not her mate. I laugh thankfully and then sit down to immortalize this lest I forget. Thank You LORD for ensuring I stay faithful. Shalom.
#WhenAMotherCries #MotherCall #MotherHeartofGod #WellUnderHisWings
“I will extol The Lord at all times;
His praise will always be on my lips.
I will glory in The Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
Glorify The Lord with me; let us exalt His name together.”
Psalm 34:1-3
vipslit@yahoo.ca
+254-722755485

They Return

They Return.
They rebel in the dark. Enjoying the companionship, laughing loudly into the night…they think themselves clothed, and luxuriously so…not tattered like those with whom they come into contact and discard as inferior. Those whom God Himself had stripped and caused to fall flat at their onslaught. They capture cities, in the dark. They are well fed, seemingly orderly, considered wealthy by the nations that watch them march past…predictably. They pass by seasonally, and at the sound of their approach the nations flee to hide, for a season. In the dark. They are terrible and fearsome…yet almost frantically, they carry the worship of the conquered and vanquished as cherished and practiced souvenirs. In the dark. Oh, they are mighty, impervious, in the dark. Round and round they march, dying off yet rejoicing at the new births – the greatness of their numbers, in the dark. They are a coveted and covetous army, Laughing loudly, they articulate in their criticism of their God and His chosen leaders, in the dark, they march round and round.
 
Then…The Light dawned on them…and they realized that it had been long since they marched. The ancient chains that had anchored them to a mountain, had reached its limit. That they were hungry, wretched, that their decaying and shredding cloths covered patches of their bodies – just enough to keep them sufficiently deceived that they were luxuriously covered, in the dark. At the full stretch of their chains their left feet were captured tenaciously by concrete pits that produced maggots which crept up their legs, eating through their mobility rendering them dead even as they lived: laughing loudly, raining criticisms on those they could make out in the dark, believing themselves covered, fed,marching as they slowly died.
 
And The Light came and beckoned them, He broke them, crushed some, and then deliberately mended their hearts, their lives. The Light opened their eyes so that they could take Him in. He soaked into Himself the stench of the rot they had become in the dark; took over the dust that had imprisoned them causing them to tug their left feet free of it and take a step forward. Then another. They walked away from the stench of their own graves, God Himself stripping them of their grave-cloths; He embraced them, washed, refreshed, fed…then dressed them in true luxury…cloths that could not wear out, could not be stripped off them, did not attract decay, armors made to fit – that could not be stolen from them.
 
Now an army marches into the Dawn, limping as they re-learn to walk. They laugh deeply, cry deeper still, speak healing gently into wounds – their own and those of others. They speak and their hearers are no longer condemned but strengthened…they march away from their ancient path, forsaking ancient, rusty chains their heads raised and focused towards The Light. As they come…their true majesty is visible, strong, healed, prosperous, loving, kind, invincible…a people come destroying the feigned valiant, an army that heals the land they march through. Home is beckoning. They Return.
vipslit@yahoo.ca
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