“Baa! He’s in EVERY verse”

If, like me, you grew up in a Christian home….ok let me rephrase.

If, like me, you actually like the fact that you grew up in a Christian home,

then you must be familiar with Psalms 23.

Familiar with it for decades, as I have been.

I can recite Psalms 23 in my sleep, in two languages.

But as I heard someone read this song today,

It suddenly dawned on me

That the Shepherd is in every verse

Jesus-Good-Shepherd-guides-me

1 The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.

I’ve been a really slow sheep

To not notice He does not sleep

But ‘cos in wahala, he’s in my verse

That beats being a stray, though in First Class.

Chukwudi Adepoju is @adechuks on twitter.

“Writers Sought!”

“Writers Sought!” the small advert said

For what exactly, was left undeclared

Is it for menus, love letters, or bankable checks?

Or twitter, or tattoos, or good old phone texts

 

“Writers Sought!” was what it did say

And where exactly? Do tell us, I pray

Prison or Facebook, where there are big walls;

Restrooms or park benches, or in dining halls

 

“Writers Sought!” was all it proclaimed

But did not quite say, what drove them away

Is the pay that poor that they must be sought?

Or are your sights so poor? Because I see lots

 

Of hand writing, phone writing, but hardly right things

Song writing, blog-writing, or just commenting

Real ranting, twit-fighting, govern-ment-bashing

Too busy for miserly “Writers Sought!” things

 

© Chukwudi Adepoju 1st May 2014.

 

Perspective!

Lord Help me, to stop measuring
My worth, my life, by all these things
The money i have, or really don’t have
Or to think i’m cool, cos i fly first class

Lord help mebenz, to stop thinking
‘Oh I’m blessed’, just b’cos of my Benz
Or to hope the guys can actually see
That I have arrived, when i do arrive!

Lord help me, to not judge men
By how they smell, or what they wear,
To know that crooks sometimes smell nice
And Lazarus was wrongly despised

Lord help me, to not despair
Not despair, if things disappear
Help me to look for you and rest
To know it’s in you I’m truly BLESSED!

Lord help me, to think like you
To see like you, and talk like you
To see all men, in heaven’s light
And treat all things, as Jesus might.

(c) Chukwudi Adepoju. 04 April 2014 [Inspired by Pastor GoodHeart Obi Ekwueme’s … “The Heart Series”]

“NO! SATAN, THIS LIE WON’T HOLD!”

No, Satan, this lie won’t hold!

I am a sheep in my shepherd’s fold
And It’s His love that makes me bold
Summer, Winter, Hot or Cold
Nothing can snatch me from his hold

No, Satan, this lie won’t hold!

To wander, yes, i know i’m prone
But you can’t claim me for your own
His blood shed cost much more than gold
The depth of his love is yet untold

No, Satan, this lie won’t hold!

I won’t conform to this world’s mold
Or live life like I’m all alone
My shepherd’s near, wherever i go
Baa, baa, your old lies still won’t hold

No, Satan, your lies won’t hold

I won’t repeat them, ancient foe
Its an old trick, I’m reliably told
Whatever i let from my mouth flow
Will go to my future, and will show

That’s why, Satan, this lie won’t hold
My Master’s word is what I’ll hold
Summer or winter, hot or cold
His Word is enough, and it makes me WHOLE.

©Chukwudi Adepoju, 28 March 2014.

“I knew Abram at 70!”

 

I knabraham 2ew Abram at 70
And he was going nowhere;
With his wife, oh so pretty
But they had no heir;

His neighbor i was, back then in Ur
With his dad and brother, the small Nahor
My son played often, with orphan – Lot
The nephew. The one that later got lost

When they suddenly packed up, bought tickets and left,
Some really weird rumors were all that we heard
“Abram’s hearing voices!” some people said
“No, Nahor’s twelve sons’re making them scared”

I hear he heard voices, right till he died
Well stricken in age, but oh, so so blessed
And the heir still came, bringing real laughter
I should have followed them, into God’s Chapter.

© Chukwudi Adepoju. 13 March 2014.