‘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
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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

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

Redemption

Walk Carefully and Deliberately With God” Let Your Life be an Image and Resounding Echo of His Commands. 
Blessed day beloved of God.
Many times, lack, extreme lack, is used as a valid excuse to disobey God’s direct commands over how our time and consequently our lives are to be spent. We become such an offence to those around us that we are tempted to offend God in the intimacy of our individual relationships with Him. Those that claim to still love us as well as those who hate us push us strongly towards specific paths of direct disobedience because they imagine our situation is because we didn’t make the choices they did, either with or independently of God. They surround themselves and give audience to those that slander our lives and callings in God. Their stance is “you either do what I want you to or think you should do and ignore what you believe God to be saying to you, or I will pull my love and help from you.
I am reminded in my own case of Who truly has been Jireh, Healer, Master, Friend, Deliverer… Who has led me into battle and with each breath, into His victory – and though God may have spoken once or twice through the giving, the love, the counsel of those that now stand strongly to sway you or I from what they define as blind or even foolish dedication to Him; He Alone is, remains and will ALWAYS be God – my God.
It is hard right now, but this is what the choice to lay down my life and follow Jesus, Christ was about. Above the din of these extremely perplexing times I will listen to what The Lord will say to me, for His promises are Yes and Amen.
As the song writer wrote and is my theme: “I have decided, to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back.” I have already gone too far with Him to look or turn back, for me now to live or die, is Christ and Christ Alone.
“I will hear what God the LORD will speak: for He will speak peace unto His people, and to His saints: but let them not turn again to folly.’ Psalm 85:5
Now the just shall live by faith; But if anyone draws back, My soul has no pleasure in him.”  But we are not of those who draw back to perdition, but of those who believe to the saving of the soul.” Hebrews 10:38-39
Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do,forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14

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

When You Dare Step In

I like my old clothes, they are discreet, they are intimate enough with me to know which parts of me to keep from my conscience… When I allow my eyes to notice new cloths and linger and THEN step into a dress shop AND do a silly thing like trying on new clothes… They, especially the ones you really like, tell everyone in the shop (‘world’) the truth you that you have become adept at hiding from: the tales around your three stomachs, arms that just will not ‘enter’, the head that won’t pass through and zippers that become immobile exactly one inch to the small of your back.

New cloths mock you by choosing a new and increasingly ridiculous part of your anatomy to stick to with every trial, while, to your great horror, lovingly embracing and accentuating the anatomies of just about everyone else that tries them on. THEN they will refuse to cover your shame and allow you to leave the shop alone as they gloat, along with all the other shoppers, at your exciting profile, mocking the intimacy between your old cloths and you, and making you forget that you had neither the intention nor ability to take them along with you in the first place.

New cloths shove down your conscience the fact that there are just no cloths in that part of your existence that could EVER fit you, unless you do something loving to your body: Like take a walk once a day as opposed to once in a while…and particularly, to walk away from food that carry with them multiple seeds that germinate into new stomachs. New cloths are mannerless like that. S/he who has ears…

vipslit@yahoo.ca

Zoar and Ishmael

Its been a year and more since God started speaking to me about this move. I believe Him, just that I keep looking, like all those that God has ever spoken to about a move…I have looked at myself and seen all the ways in which I am flawed, I fall short and wondered…

So I did what I could, and then waited. Heart beating so fast, it wore me out. So I settled back into the status quo. Into the shame of stagnation. Choosing to the endure the scorn from those who knew…who had heard from me what God said He would do for me and mine, rather than risk being disappointed by God. I add this latest one, to all the rest I have heaped in a treasure box…knowing that God speaks to me…but wondering if the characteristic of His Words, that they never go back to Him void, applies to the ones He speaks to me. But then, that would make God – The Truth a liar wouldn’t it? And that is an impossibility if ever there was one.

So then God begins to gently lead me through Genesis – from chapter 1, and Deuteronomy 1-2. I am now on Chapter 19 and am so trembling at His Word and His Mind. He is tough about the things He says. When we think we can advice Him better on how to navigate through a seemingly complex plan of His, He demonstrates otherwise. And don’t I know it…this laps around this stagnant mount have worn me and mine out.

Its true, I haven’t heard from Him the ‘where’ of the move. But I have heard the urgency of His call to get up and get going. I don’t yet know the ‘how’, and yet I know its urgent. So this morning again, this early afternoon, His words break me again. I hunger for His direction. I feel guilty, condemned, that I have failed Him. That I am still here, when He wills for me to me to be elsewhere. Then just like that, He sends two words “No Condemnation.”

I realize that its no longer up to me. This is His thing…it has to be. He has put me to sleep, so to speak, as He did Abraham – made me incapable of doing anything about this lest I taint it with flesh. He reminds me of Ishmael – Abraham’s work. He reminds me of Zoar – Lot’s work. The choices they made, that am not immune to making over my own navigation to perfect faith in Him. Choices that frustrate us, that complicate what is already beyond human abilities. Let this not be my story again – for it has been in other areas of my life.

‘No Condemnation.’ Amazing Grace. He has made and effected His covenant all by Himself. All He needed from me, was my willingness. I can trust Him with this. When its time, He will override all my hesitations and lead me to His chosen sanctuary for me and mine. A sanctuary where His Will is effected on earth as it is in Heaven. A copy of Heaven. And I cannot wait to finally enter into all that He has for me, everything, but especially – an walk and fellowship with God Almighty that is uninterrupted by bouts of doubt and resistance from my end, accompanied by a cheap, weak patchwork of human activity hanging grotesquely against the excellence of His priceless work; because His Mind, Heart and Words are as He says them, beyond my wildest imaginings and greatest wisdom…as they should be.

Shalom.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

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