Some of the Things He Said on Good Friday

vipslit@yahoo.ca / vipadhiambo@gmail.com

Circling Your Stubborn Enemies with Focused Worship

_{This is a post I shared on one of my Facebook pages ‘Homes and Nations – House of Prayer’ over ten years ago. I just realized I didn’t share it here. God continues to amaze me by how He uses lessons He taught me years ago, to move me forward in the present. This has also helped me when I read prophecies that at the point in which He spoke them to me, seemed time specific, but actually speak to my now. His Mind is not like ours. May ours rise to become like His. Be blessed as you partake with me.}

First written on March 13, 2012

About two years ago, I visited a church with my friend Roselyn and her mom. I quickly got involved in the worship and God began to minister to me through a vision. [I think I have shared this on my personal profile as Vip Ogola, but God has been speaking new things about that incident.] Let me tell you about the vision.

‘I was standing before a woman, beautiful, though her face was not too clear. Her hair was braided or in dreadlocks, and she seemed kind of elevated, in flowing red robs that constantly seemed to be blowing. I cant remember feeling any wind but it seemed windy just by looking at her. [i know…I am using the word ‘seemed’ a lot here but bear with me]. It seemed to me that she was standing on my pathway…in the way to my destiny. She had this hue of gold around her that seemed to emanate from within her. And that though she seemed fragile even, there was a silently strong power within her that controlled my ability to move forward. I began to declare the Word of God against her, frantically. A fear and pain knotted scratchily within my heart and belly. And I shouted more, she stood confidently and calm on my path. Smiling at me through eyes that seemed gentle but reminded me of a lizard, crocodile or a snake. Dark, loathing. As though she knew that there was nothing I could do to move her. Suddenly I felt in the physical, a pressure in the palm of my hand. A weight almost 2 kilos, and this weight began to lift my hands. My heart lifted beyond my vision of her, and began to worship God. And just like that, she disappeared. My path was clear again.’

I have on several occasions shared this and each time I do, a new revelation is placed, for the season am in. Even now, God is speaking a new thing…connecting this with something that happened in the past but I cannot share until I have His words to do so. Well, this week, my children Leroy and Shukri and I were having our devotions and God led us to the book of Joshua. Which is the theme of this week’s fasting prayer for our homes and nations. Joshua 2: 8-16, 4:1, 5:1 and 6 have been particularly significant. 40 years ago, Israel had opted to die in the desert rather than trust God with regard to conquering the land. They feared the occupants of the land and the land itself, believing themselves to be too small in their eyes. Rahab, and the kings in Canaan however give us a different story; they had heard about God’s exploits in the desert on behalf of His chosen race and it terrified them that this extremely large nation was headed their way. The Israelites, the warriors that had been liberated from Egypt wasted away in a wilderness for 40 years, and it was only after God had ridded His people of the evidence of doubt in Him [which am learning is extremely repugnant to Him] could He now begin again with a new generation – save for the remnant: Joshua and Caleb.

So God again causes His priests to stand in the gap and let Israel pass by. Here I need to say that those few of us, 12 perhaps who will stand in faith of The Living God, and believe Him for the healing and deliverance of our homes and nations would be enough to hold up the waves headed our way to destroy us and keep us from inheriting that which God has lovingly extended our way. Is there anyone who would risk they all to stand in the gap on behalf of your land? On behalf of your home? As I prayed through this passage, the crossing of the Jordan River, I believed that everything, every issue that I had been praying about that concerned others would cross over from slavery to freedom and have a fighting chance to this inheritance if those it concerned would themselves step out in faith.

Then there was the circumcision – the decision to allow ourselves to be indelibly marked by God as His own…before we head to chapter 6 and the saga of Jericho. I don’t know if like me, it looks like God has made you vulnerable in the eyes of your enemies who seemed so safe in their high towers? I am speaking to those of us who have prayed, trusted and yet find themselves again somewhat disadvantaged, having to go through re-consecration, and feeling like this would give the enemy unfair advantage over them? Do not worry, God blesses your choice to obey Him even when you do not understand it. His particular strategy. The kings were in hiding even though Israel did not know it. Do not be afraid – this trial/temptation/discomfort is of God. He is in control even though it seems nothing like it. Many have sent messages to me this week about not being able to pray, and asking me to pray with them. I have been non-committal, because of what God was saying to me about the situation. That we must all bear the circumcision, That we must all re-ally ourselves to Him. That it is He Who has held the stone flint knife against our innermost and most intimate and protected parts. And that He will keep us there for the four days it takes to heal us. Remember Zacharias the friend of Jesus who remained in the tomb four days till all hope was gone? You and I must remain within the will of God, even when it seems to hurt us because He will come, sometimes weeping, but healing and resurrection is within His Nature. He is coming. Just submit to the knife. His Hand is the Hand of the Surgeon not the murderer.

Then I asked Him…what was it about going around Jericho those 7 times…the first 6 silently? I needed a word for the place am in. A word to share with my children, Leroy and Shukri, and the ones who call me Mami about this place…this tall order. We are healed. We are restored to Him. But what He is saying to us belongs to us, is still a big deal. We have been firmly shut out. And the hostility and animosity within the place He has sworn is ours is fact. Yet He says to us, go to that place…and then just begin to circle it. Don’t take a battle stance yet, just blow the vuvuzela/trumpets/shofar and lift up the evidence of your testimony and go round it. One lap. Then go home and rest. Then tomorrow do the same. and the four days after tomorrow. Just obey me. I asked God, what was that about. Nothing changed those six days. The hostile, fearful, deadly enemies were still above us as we took a stroll around them; declaring Whose we are and worshiping Him for Who He is. He said to me. “There are things that still need to be broken in you that are broken only in such circumstances. Your dependence on your intellect. Your pride at what God has done just for you :). Your crowns, victories won. Your knowledge of the enemy, his powers and tactics and how useless yours is against his. Your tendency to rebel against Me when you are afraid, when you have evaluated a situation through your knowledge, experience and the experience of others. Your distrust for My Word and Instruction and your tendency to go to the devil for his opinion of what I have said to you.” God reminded me that I am not focused if there was no internal and external challenge to try it. I would know that the battle is won, when I learnt to focus on worshiping Him, on His revealed nature. By keeping my enemies aware that I had them circled in my worship of Him

I guess by the end of day 6 the worship did not even feel adequate to Israel. They could do it all in one day for the freedom it gave them. Nothing had changed but everything had. They had laid down every earthly shackle that kept them from true worship and had received from God the ability to soar above the challenges that had kept them in submission. And when they worshiped Him in Spirit and in Truth and lifted their voices in victory, they found that the walls, high towers, and the ‘powerful enemies’ had been an illusion before The Truth of the Might of The Almighty God.

This week my counsel to myself and all those seeking prayer is to circle their inheritance with worship. What has God promised you? What has He said is yours? Stop focusing on the hindrance, focus on Your God and worship Him without addressing the issue but calling Him by the Name that covers your need. e.g. Do you need healing – His Name is Jehovah Jireh. Also remember with thankfulness the works He has done in your life before. Sincerely. There are no guarantees [remember Joshua 5:13-14]…except that You will be closer to Him then than you feel now, because you would have pleased God. That alone is a major victory. And that whoever tries to restore in you that which God has destroyed will pay a hefty price for it. Joshua 6:26

s/he who has ears….

shalom.

vipadhiambo@gmail.com

Seeking True Order

This morning I was seeking God about the environmental etc chaos within and around where we currently live. I was pleading with Him to make Providence for us to move to better – He had indicated this as His will for us.

As I talked to Him my heart was raised to His Presence in worship. I wondered how I would ever live on the earth after truly experiencing the Order of His Presence. An Order that scoffs at our understanding of ‘ultimate order’ on the earth – as its beginning far supersedes the highest peak of our understanding of and the actualization of that term.

Well, the words ‘Thy Kingdom Come’ came to my spirit and with them, an understanding. You see, in the same way that sin defiles, decays, corrupts a nation; so does true worship bring The Order we were created for into manifestation. I again understood that for that Divine Order to come into my environment, my workplace, my home, wherever I set my foot, mind, heart to, I needed to join in the ultimate worship of The Presence. Right where I am placed now.

God DOES inhabit the praises of His people, and where He dwells nothing remains the same. I asked myself if I had worshiped God truly – in spirit and truth – to allow for Him to inhabit me and all around me . May we be lifted into His Presence this Day, to rededicate our Love, Awe and Submission. And may we in that place carry with us, wherever He should lead us, the essence of the Wholeness of His Dwelling Place, for we are His living temples. Shalom.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

‘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

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

General Legacy

Some of the time we hold that the true power of someone’s legacy is only at the points easily recognizable as triumphant. Points passed on from person to person and generation to generation as indicators of greatness. We therefore wait to share our stories at their conclusions. That’s alright. But conclusions are not set on stone…how does one who still walk judge a story in their life to have ended…while they still walk?

I feel, humbly, that there is cause to celebrate too the journey, daily: that its a cause for High Praise and Thanksgiving. Like the lyrics of one of my favorite songs say “thank You LORD for the Strength You give, to simply carry on…”

When we hold of rejoicing because the outcome of the day was not what we anticipated or defined as triumphant, we miss out on the breath by breath triumphs, delights, yes even failures overcome or simply lived through, priceless treasures of life in its pulsating detail. There is as much weight in sharing the victory of the first step, the enduring scenes of the journey as there is in the end. Besides…we may not be alive long enough to truly appreciate the impact of our lives in their entirety. That’s usually the privilege of your survivors and future generations. Celebrate the breath you have just taken…you KNOW, you understand what you just survived. Shalom.

“These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.”

Hebrews 11:13-16

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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

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Burning Un-burning

As this month ends, I hold God in great awe yet again. He preserves lives – does what He wants to do.

The house I live in and the flats behind us, hold a special position in our neighborhood by being right next to the electrical transformer. In the last about six months we have had three occasions where something happened to the poles and transformer and a fire, akin that of Moses’ Burning Bush, explodes on the line that connects our house to the main one and hangs low over the balcony. Its a Moses Fire as it burns big and bright, ‘speaks’ like thunder and yet does not seem to burn anything. It always happens when there is no one on the balcony and for that I am grateful, but each time, leaves us traumatized with the ‘what ifs’.

Last night was different and yet the same. 7:30pm finds us in the family room with Gio; Shukri was on the stairs coming up and saying something, Leroy was busy doing something in his room. The first explosion was very loud and the fire burnt bright, switching off our lights and then dying out as the lights came back on. All these must have taken place in a minute or two but it seems like hours to us who were caught in it. Gio was immediately on my side. The second and third explosion find me reaching down for him and partway down the stairs calling out to Leroy and Shukri to follow us outside. My feet felt like lead and for a second I wondered if there was anything in the house that I could go back for, but my arms were holding all they could – Baby Giovanni.

At the bottom of the stairs I put him down and he reached up to me and said “I am scared.” I carried him and ran out of the house as the fourth explosion came, wondering why Leroy and Shukri were not right behind me. It felt as though the house was shaking – but Shukri told me later it wasn’t. Outside the house Gio repeats “Dani, I am scared, let us go back into the house.” I quickly explain as I run to the gate calling out for Leroy and Shukri, that the house was about to catch fire and we were safer outside. Leroy was apparently in the middle of sending out that all important text, Shukri had noticed that I was carrying her son out barefoot and had gone back upstairs to get his little shoes. Gio and I were outside the gate looking up and then down at the lines that had come undone and were now on the bush that fences the house. I found out then the entire immediate neighborhood had been drawn out of their houses by the noise and huge sparks…

After about 20 minutes of traumatizing one another with frightening discourse among the group of neighbors gathered in the road in front of our house, we all went back to our houses. Surprisingly, we still had electricity, though a line of neighbors did not. We had a ‘normal night’ except for the baby that was especially clingy as I prayed and asked God not to allow us to die in an electric fire, but if this was what was coming to this house – to move us again. This morning the technicians from KPLC were telling me as they worked that it could kill someone, because its a live fire that searches for something to attach itself to…that we needed to switch off the lights from the mains when that happens…but thinking about how far downstairs was last night…I don’t know…if it even possible to reach there on time without God…I hope we never have to find out… I am just grateful for today.

“…When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, and the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…”
Isaiah 43:2-3

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

The Child Would Not Die or Be Silent

“How long does it take for one to forgive their mother or father for what they did to them?” the little girl asked me. I smiled, but not from amusement. I was trying not to cry. Which was impossible anyway…because ever since I had walked into this children’s home and rescue center in Nairobi my whole system had frozen. God had taken over…I had known to be in prayer about this particular assignment the whole week. I had been invited to replace Pastor Terry Gobanga who was away – and it was not really about filling her really large and excellent shoes. It was about being asked to share wisdom with about 67 children…who were there not because their parents were no longer alive, but had allegedly become predators that orphaned the children they had borne.

This was the second rescue center, mostly inhabited by children who were healing from sexual violence, that I had been asked to speak at in a month. I wondered about that. But as I held a five week old baby girl in my arms, then later looked around the circle of about 30 eyes (the rest had been excused from my session for a play session with other members of the group we had gone with), I wondered how I could answer that question. Most of us, resent those that call us to account for the way we raise our own children: Mostly because they catch us at a moment, and make it about our entire parenting. But these were not ordinary parenting moments…although it seemed that it was becoming more normalized, this was a crisis.

In this particular home, all ‘except one’ (and I shudder at the use of those two words – because it was still one too many) had been assaulted by a mother, father or uncle – biological. Most of these children were in delicate security situations since their parents’ cases were still ongoing, and there was need by some clans to either “mute or get rid of the evidence.” Most of them were girls…but there were boys too…one too many. There were others who were or had been admitted in hospital, to undergo multiple reconstructive surgeries to lend their lives some semblance of normality. Most of the girls were first borns of at least one of their parents, or their only female child. I looked at their Mum1 – the founder of this home…fourteen (14) years of mothering other people’s children in their worst states had not dimmed her life Light.

How could I answer the children? What would forgiveness look like for them? How do you answer a child who in one moment, or a hundred, had endured war in their genitals to satisfy the hungers of a parent who temporarily forgot that they were supposed to protect not prey on them? Does forgiveness mean that what happened to them was ok? That it should be forgotten? That the children should repent of these (Because they were so often stigmatized – Mum1 shared for instant how one ‘church’ had denied them baptism after going through the classes under the excuse of not being able to afford T-shirts.) Many of these children bore the brunt of these shameful acts against them again and again as they lived each breath with the rejection of the extended families to which they had once belonged – who had perhaps initially celebrated their births and birthdays – who now wanted to forget them for the shame they are accused of bringing home. “For why hadn’t they just died instead of crying out, or getting pregnant, getting an important benefactor and family member whose quaint habits could be ignored into ‘disrepute’ or incarceration for ‘just’ a moment? Why wouldn’t they just let this go and keep up the facade?” This seemed to be the attitude their families had towards them.  What exactly would forgiveness mean for these?

The nightmares needed to end, the healing to come. Forgiveness may be about the offender (e.g. When God forgives our sins it puts us in the best place with Him), but it’s more about the offended (Humanly speaking). You forgive even when the fault is not confessed or admitted to because if allowed to – one offense can define the rest of your life in the worst ways possible. Unforgiveness often translates to meditating on an offence and giving it the power to shut down the functioning of what is still functional in us to hit back at the offender and survive the offense. Meditating constantly on what was done to you gives a grievous injury even more power over you than  it had initially. It can colour, darken everything…take away your smile…your life. I cannot remember what I said to them, because I was praying a lot, and asking God to speak to His little ones.  But they smiled…and they spoke…and they gave me strength as well. There was nothing God could not heal. It was hard leaving the home, leaving them behind to go be with my own household…I had intended to leave by 2pm. I was there till 6:30pm. It was hard to leave these little ones that because they still suffered from parenting wounds had become part of my own story. Their hugs, the whispered stories after the main session, the tears they allowed me to see, and the feel of them as they held onto me while I prayed for them – made them mine – indelibly. As I left though, I realized that they were indeed in the best place they could be for now, having been rescued and that for this moment were truly safer because they cried out and refused to die.

But somewhere in this same neighborhood, in this country, in this globe, other children were unfortunately starting the journey they were walking. I prayed that their parents would be hit by Heaven’s Might, that they would not put their babies through this, and that the babies who had gone through this, would find Hope again, find God, in parental touches by those in whose hands God would place them in. I don’t know…

vipslit@yahoo.ca