The Wait

It’s been a long time, Lover
Since my pen met paper to sing Your praises
Apologies…
But I’ve been too busy waiting,
For You.
I’ve been waiting for ages
To see Your word become flesh

You said the doors were open to me
Yet it seems I’m stuck just at the entrance,
Unable to step in

I’ve waited quite patiently too I might add,
Still. Quietly rocking back and forth
Occasionally pacing and peering through the windows
Marking the dates and wondering which one would
Bring home the job and the king you promised
Alas! I had been missing the whole point

I’ve barely listened for Your voice
So eager to leave this season of waiting
That I forgot just how patiently You can wait
To drive home Your point—Sigh!

You made me sit
And washed me with the water of Your word
Until I found contentment afresh in You
That nothing else could bring

I’ve occasionally lapsed into fits of anger and resentment
Wondering how You—Father, Lover, Friend could
Keep me waiting for so long and still say
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on Your own understanding…”
It made no sense even when You whispered,
“For I know the plans I have towards you, declares the Lord, “they are plans for good and not for disaster to give you a future and a hope.”

What?!
While I still waited at home as my friends moved on with their lives?
The only way this made sense was when You hit me over the head with ‘Isaiah 55:8’
“My thoughts are not your thoughts neither are your ways My ways”
At this point I was begging to see the whole master plan
Of course, there was no way You could show me all of it

The one thing that keeps me going is Your love;
Higher than the heavens
Deeper than the deep blue sea
Wider than the oceans
Your love;
Indescribable,
Amazing
Wild

Your love empowers me,
Enables me to trust You more each day
And answer “yes Papa”, with child-like awe each time You call
And so I’ll wait for You

You are all my eggs and my only basket
In You alone will I trust
Saviour, Lover, Friend
You complete me
And satisfy me deeply.
I marvel at You Jesus
As I wait,
All I want to see is Your face.

© Olamide Oti, April 2017

Advertisements

BRIDGE TO HEAVEN

At the garden of gethsemane,
It became real to me,
Three times, I asked that the cup be taken away
Yet that his will be done

I tasted and felt the darkness encircling me
And their sins becoming one with me
Yet I looked beyond and saw the glory ahead
Darkness truly had no clue

Today, the atonement would be seen in time,
Typified by death on a tree – a man
Condemned to die by the ones whose
Pardon I now seek

For a moment in eternity,
Three hours in time,
Because of their sins,
Abba turned away

Time stopped,
The unseen and seen
Became one on the cross
The battle had reached a climax

Sin was me,
Death was the wage,
I was the price
For your freedom

Just when they thought they had won,
A new order was birthed,
A new man was conceived by His Spirit
Once for all

Do you not see?
Do you not perceive?
Or do you choose to ignore the Message?

(c)Olamide Oti, 2015

The message of the cross is eternal. I pray for a revelation of God’s amazing love to you as you read this.
Happy Easter to you!

The Long Road Home

It’s dark here.
The curtains are masks
Protecting me from the mess in this place
The bed smells of sex and cheap wine
The floor is strewn with dirty clothes
Last night’s meal found solace on the bathroom floor
A bible, long forgotten lay in the corner

Ghosts of memories past filter through
Cracks in carefully constructed barriers
Announcing the charges
And stating the punishment with finality
I was caged in a prison with no walls,
Told that there was no way out
The warden was a merciless task master

One day I
Heard a whisper,
Heart racing, I answered,
I saw Him, running to me in the distance
My steps were hesitant and suspicious
I wondered what manner of man this was
He stood up for me
Silenced my accusers
And gave me a beginning
With an end in eternity

He satisfies me completely, wholly, deeply,
He is Father, Lover, Friend
My heart rejoices for He has made me glad
He redeemed me and called me ‘His own’
What I feel for Him is far beyond words
Yet it is incomparable to how much He loves me
His love brought me home
(c) Olamide Oti, 2016

the making of a son

This poem is dear to my heart, it was written in 2014, a couple of hours to my 22nd birthday. It was initially titled ‘Reflections’ and has passed through the Refiner’s fire many times. It was ‘performed’ at Ablaze 2015 with over 600 freshmen in attendance.I pray it blesses your heart and draws you closer to Abba Father.

………….
My inheritance was the slavery that my fathers sought to keep
It became my own undoing
It was only natural that I walked in the path that was laid before me
And so my journey as a slave began

I was proud of my heritage
And I became an addict
To everything that looked good
My eyes were the end of me

I sold everything for my next fix
I thought that I would die without it
That was an illusion that he painted
And I believed every lie
I became primed for the next best thing
The newest drug on the market- ecstasy

Every high took me to cloud nine,
But the lows, took me to a place where
I thought of ten different ways to end my life
Where I set my clothes on fire
Broke dishes in anger

For it I sold my peace,
It was true love
He brainwashed me, filled my head with lies
Compelled me to forget the one who made me
Gave me something else to serve

I ran until I came to the end of myself
Until the ‘I Am’ found me; strung out and homeless
With bits and pieces of dignity
Worthless, not worth saving, suicidal
I cast my pearls among swine
Content with eating with dogs

Until, you pulled on the strings of my heart
And flooded my eyes with light
Your love for me is red-hot fire burning
Brick by brick, I lay down my walls
Beat by beat, my new heart beats in sync with yours
Step by step, our feet step
Stroke by stroke, my pen is yours

I will forever be chasing after you, as sure as the dawn,
As certain as the sun will rise
Your presence is my heaven, it is where I found myself
Where my mess became yours
You keep me from falling, you continually renew my strength
And you gave me the right to call you Abba
I choose You today, forever my all in all
Without You, living is a dead existence

(c) Olamide Oti, 2014

Machseh(Refuge)

As the tides rise
And my fears with it
My eyes search for the shore
Looking wildly for arms made with clay
As the waves billow
You test the limits of my trust
And ask me to come to You
With steps barely a whisper, I crawl

The ground quakes
Disintegrating into a million pieces
My mind spins frantically
Molding shoulders into existence
Discarding without a thought- precious promises
You heart speaks to mine, reminding me who You are
“Close your eyes and walk by faith” You say

You are my place of rest,
Inside of You I am secure,
Enclosed, shielded from the sun
Wrapped In the palm of Your hand
My eyes look afar off and all I see
Is men given in exchange for me
I will rest in hope
Quietly trusting in You

heartstrings

my mind is a hollow mess of a thousand echoes
bouncing off the walls of my heart
they whisper to me in loud voices
preying on labile feelings and desires

my gaze rests upon glitters and sparkles
with eyes like lust, I stare
coveting the things I cannot have
and the days long gone

this flesh made from clay
craves to be admired and adorned
it needs trophies and applause
it delights in vain glory

lIke the strings of a newly wound guitar
you pluck gently yet firmly
producing a melody so perfect it hurts
you hold out Your hand for a dance
my feet stay glued, tired from the journey of mistakes past

your eyes search mine gently,
I hear the words Your mouth need not speak,
“trust, put your hand in Mine, dance”
I see your eyes swim with tears
your hand is still held out
your body poised to dance with me

you strip me away gently
with hands like love
removing the debris upon my spirit
breathing me to life
you quiet my will firmly
with words like fire
setting me ablaze
breaking me to stillness

Let’s talk about weddings!

Source: Google images

Source: Google images


it has been a great journey so far with you guys. I decided to do something interesting this month.I would be inviting different writers to write on the above theme. If you would also like to contribute send in your story or poem to my email. Entries should be between 350-600 words. Sorry there’s no reward or anything yet, this is for the love of the pen. It closes on 17th April, 2016. I am sorry in advance if your entry is not published.
Cheers to April, our month of weddings!

HIs Heartbeat, Her Pulse.

Dear Abba,
One too many compromises later,
my life is unattractive.
I’m constantly walking in defeat,
and living below Your standards.
How can you love me still?

Dear Child,
I love you unconditionally,
My trip to Calvary covered it all.
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes,
then you would know that I see My Son when I look at you.
Perfect,
Blameless.

Dear Abba,
My hormones are raging
and everything in me is screaming gratification,
I never thought I would be on this page again,
In a different journal with yet another male specimen.
How was I to know
that time spent in the back of a car with a preacher was not a sermon.

Dear Child,
the nagging feeling at the back of your mind
was my way of telling you to wait.
You wanted to, but you were not firm
You have to learn to mean what you say
Just like I taught you to.

Dear Abba,
I’m such an emotional wreck inside
Like pieces of a porcelain doll
carefully glued together
I wear masks,
of different shapes and shades
Whatever suits my audience

Dear Child,
forgive yourself, and forgive him
Just like I forgave you,
the alternative is a downward spiral to perdition
You do not want to be the reason why people look back at Sodom
Look upon Calvary and draw your strength
You are stronger than you think

Dear Abba,
what if I fail?
What if I’m not strong enough?
What if I’m a weakling?

Dear Child,
before you were formed in your mother’s womb, I knew you
I chose you before the foundations of the world
I knew you then, and I chose to love you
Keep your heart in sync with Mine
Until you become the masterpiece I already see

Dear Abba,
sometimes I think your expectations of me are too high
Your standards too lofty to truly attain
How did Your Son do it?
How did He keep Himself unblemished from the world?
How did he resist the allure of this world?

Dear Child,
trust me to keep you from falling,
Know that my grace is sufficient for you
Abide in me, and I will abide in you
My yoke is easy and my burden is light

Dear Abba,
Your love is never-ending, overwhelming
It overflows the river banks
Its depth Is unfathomable
Its height immeasurable
I long to know it and fully understand the depths of it
Show me.

Dear Child,
I gave My Son in exchange for your life
So that you could stand before Me with confidence
Where you’ll see with perfect clarity,
The depth of My love for you.
Wait.

(c) Olamide Oti, 2015

“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”
Hebrews 4:14-16

IMPECCABLE (A Poem)

I love this poem! Its so true. He needs no perfect ones, only in Him can we be made perfect.

Luke Ogar's Blog

image

I need no perfect ones
They are not my sons —
Those who love to sit in high places
And look down on the lowly with proud faces
It is ye who condemn on carnal basis
And wrap yourselves like kings in laces

I need no perfect ones
Those with loaded guns —
For they shoot at the frailty of the sinner
And cast him away like a loner
For envy, they would become greener
Until they see their neighbour become a moaner

I need no perfect ones
With self-righteousness in tons —
For with pride they are enriched
Carrying themselves in white gowns so bleached
But hiding away dark hearts so pitched
Till they shatter dreams and have good plans breached

I need no perfect ones
Who store up contempt like water in gallons
Contempt for the man guided by a different rule
Deeming him a pitiable one and…

View original post 84 more words

Hidden Treasures

It is a book
That tells of history centuries old
Of thousands of years ago when life was simple
Of obedience, sacrifice and faith
Of my ancestral heritage
Of my future resting place

Each word fits in with the next like pieces in a puzzle
Rhyming together, in sync with another
Each verse, just as powerful as the last
A collection of 66 books written by different pens
Wielded by the One who made hands

It tells of a perfect God,
An imperfect people
Him as a consuming fire
A faithful Father
The I Am

It told me that I am not without identity
An alien and a stranger on this planet
A chosen generation
A royal priesthood
A holy nation

Told me that I know things
Have all things
Can do all things

Daily renewing minds
Dispelling myths
Words of wisdom for daily living
Teaching, edifying
Refreshing, revealing
Hidden treasures buried deep within
(c)Olamide Oti, 2014