The Parable of The Straw! pt.1

The year was 2001. Lagos, Nigeria.

I had just completed my National Youth Service Corps assignment. I had enjoyed the year tremendously. Not only because I got to work with Nigeria’s very first internet service provider, ensuring I had an unfettered access to the internet, an access that less than 1% of Nigerians had at that time; but I had also been able to complete my MCSE (Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer) Certification exams earlier that year. There were six different modules to go through, and although thousands of people had to re-take at least one module, I had gone through them in a breeze. Of course, I received tremendous help from family, especially from my very loving parents (who were both retired), and from my big brother “Bros Dee”, who paid for a number of the exams. I will forever be grateful for their sacrifice.

But on this fateful day in August 2001, I was unhappy and I did not know why.

I was on a lunch break from my internet service support duties and having a quick lunch at “Mr Biggs” on Akin Adesola Street in Victoria Island. It no longer stands on that street today, but back then in 2001, Mr Biggs on Akin Adesola was thriving. My office was in Eagle House, just about three buildings away.

For no reason in particular, I was not in a very good mood. It was not the food, as I’ve never been the picky eater. I literally follow Apostle Paul’s injunction that whatever is placed before you, ask no questions, receive it with thanksgiving and eat on. While some people have highly developed tongues to know what food lacks what spice, I have never been in that prison.

So, it was not the food.

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 me, 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 knew 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.

Your enemy is in form!

I recently started following the English Premier League, and I have found that it is truly amazing to feel the passion of it all if you let yourself get sucked in to the contagious atmosphere, watching out for upcoming matches, Summer transfers, checking up on your team’s performance on the League Table, and being interested in so many other things you never thought you would ever be interested in.

If you knew me growing up, you would understand why this is such a new experience.

Growing up, there was absolutely no football passion in our home. If my brother ever played any football, I did not know it. In his teenage years, he was more interested in the martial arts. My Dad, the only other male in the house, did not reminisce about playing football in his youth. He occasionally talked about his cousin, my Uncle ‘Deremi that was the goalkeeper for Osogbo Grammar School in the late 50s, and that was it. I realize now that myopia in his eyes must have made him a poor choice for football in his high school days.

On the other hand, I was rather chubby in my primary school days. Scratch that. I am still rather chubby. And running for 90 minutes around a football I would never see till it hit me was not much fun at all. With all the sweating, and the panting, and the turning around on one spot to find a good target to pass to, it became obvious very quickly that if you need to win that match of 5-a-side, you better pick someone that sees much better than Aanu. I did not miss the panting.

Words Are All I Have!

The storms are all I see around
The master’s in but sleeping sound
Our rowing skills are of no help
And I see, words are all I have

How I hate a watery grave
But I’m helpless in this stormy place
Tempestuous sea, where there’s no land
In despair, and yet, words are all I have

With words, I’ve shouted at the crew
With more words, I’ve cursed at the devil
Finally I run to wake the Lord
And He knows, words are all I have

“Peace, be still” were his own words
And they went forth, two-edged swords
He shocked me, calmed me, and made me see
That faith-words indeed, are all I need.

© Chukwudi Adepoju. 23rd August 2013.

“My Daddy said…”

“My Daddy said I can play outside…”
“My Daddy said he will buy me a bicycle for Christmas!”
“My Daddy said he will take us to Disneyland during the holidays”
“My Daddy said I can have it!”

We see and hear children revel in the power of their Daddies to do and undo. We see them wait for just the “word” from their fathers. Then they take off, based solely on that word. Yes, mothers have some of that power as well, but there is something extra-ordinary about what Daddy said. Even Mummy will be confronted boldly with “…but Daddy said…”

Once Daddy gives the permission to do something, no-one can challenge the child that knows about it. He will let you know on whose authority he is riding in the rain. He will let you know that his actions are backed up by a power that’s higher than him; and higher than you that is challenging him.

Blessed Beyond Expression pt. 1.

Ps 112 [The Living Bible]
(**Emphases mine)

112 Praise the Lord! For all who fear God and trust in him are blessed beyond expression. Yes, happy is the man who delights in doing his commands.

2 His children shall be honored everywhere, for good men’s sons have a special heritage. 3 He himself shall be wealthy, and his good deeds will never be forgotten. 4 When darkness overtakes him, light will come bursting in. He is kind and merciful- 5 and all goes well for the generous man who conducts his business fairly.