ART OF WORSHIP

The art of worship

A heart of worship

Of sculptured beauty

On the wings of purity

As we lift up frail hands

Our souls drawn to celestial bliss

                                                   Seemingly unworthy we stand      

A portrait of redemption’s kiss

Yes! His love moulds us in 3D

Our spirits soaring above still life

With streams of bass and melody

Our voices ring, quenching all strife

Thus, we come before His presence

A landscape of heaven’s glory

To be used, a paint brush of essence

Or even clay to image His story

Though our bodies are plastered with tongues

We could never give as we ought

But the very best from our lungs

Would suffice with pure hearts and thoughts

Hence, let’s pilot a circus for the most High

Not of status or puppets to make Him high

But with sincere hearts full of worship

Let’s portray the art of worship.  

Adaeze Opara

High and Holy

His delight imbedded in affluence

His nature reflects the peak;

He strongly desires our prosperity

Silver & Gold He withhold not,

Rather bestowed immensely

Little sparrows’ attests;

Fed from the choicest of field and forest

Those prototyped after Him were not left out

His heartbeat speaks luxury;

Yes, comfort in volume

So much has He given,

So much more He requires us to be holy

Ascend the height of glory with purity of heart

Without blemish or stain

Compromise at ease he abhors

The higher we climb the holier expected of us

High and Holy is our God.

So be holy as He lifts you up

                                                                                                                                        Ronke Adeleke

THE SOURCE

What have I done to myself? I once have this mentality that life is a journey on a rough road. I also believed the ideology that life is turbulent, so it must be spiced up with struggles, until last night. I read a book; it definitely must be the first book on earth. It is made up of chapters, unlike other books it has verses attached, which makes it unique, it ancient words caught my attention, so I began studying it and in the cause of my study I was taken back to the source, source of  all creatures including man.

Gen. 1:11. Here I come to realize that the earth is the source of all grasses and trees of all kinds. Then I imagined the grass or tree that had been uprooted from the soil, this is the only time we see them gradually drying as a result of sun effects, because they have been separated from their source. If not rooted back into the soil, hmm…..

Gen. 1:20. What a super natural command. “Sea, bring forth fish!”. This means the fish would live comfortably only in waters because it is its source. I don’t know what your views of fish without water would be, imagine fish comparing itself with snake, saying, “I see snakes passing through the water, I can also crawl on land, jut to feel what life is outside water”. What may possibly happen to the fish if not return to it source? It would become miserable, shrink and die helplessly.

Trees are dead without soil and fish are dead out of waters. How then would man be without God? From what I learnt in Gen. 1:26, God is a source of man. God has authority over everything in heaven and on earth. He rules the affairs of man but gave to man authority over all things on earth, man rebelled against God and as a result He cursed man. See Gen. 3:17-19. Note, man didn’t ask for pardon, he lived under the curse. It’s never too late to ask for pardon in order to restore the fellowship with God. See Ps 107:10-14. How can man be happy after denying being the image of God? How can his ways be prosperous while living in the wrath and curse of God? Man forgot God as being his source, so he lived under the curse thinking it has ended, because God said, “out of the dust you were made and shall return to the dust”. Now I know that life full of obstacles is a curse, struggling to survive is a curse, a curse on those who refuse to repent and go back to the source. Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but God delivered him out of them all. He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken. Evil shall slay the wicked and they that hate the righteous shall be desolate. God redeemed the soul of His servants: and none of them that trust in Him shall be desolate. Ps 34: 19-22.

Let’s go back to God in repentance; He will accept us because He’s merciful and always waiting. He will restore out lost glory: He will supply all our needs according to His riches, give us power trample on serpents, set us high above our enemies and oppressors and most of all give us knowledge. See Deut. 28.

MICHEAL PETER

WHEN WE GO

Some die as cowards and others died heroes

But they never knew when they were going to go

It may be in a car o with your head on a pillow

But no one, not one soul knows when they’re going to go

We sometimes hate it when time seems slow

Forgetting every second draws us closer to the moment we go

For sure life brings hurt and sorrows

But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to see tomorrow

I know it’s painful to admit, but we all should know

Someday everybody has got to go

So plan for the future and don’t forget to live in the moment

Ready to die for what we live for

Live right and in death you can live some more

God speed, go on, keep moving even when you can’t run

Sail across a thousand seas like the sun

So even if you had some trouble and life seemed a bit slow

You can have nothing to regret when you finally go

Raymond Tonton N.

You Are You

                                                   

It amazes when people copycat

Channel God given virtues; potential

To be replicate of other

Harness the vigor with rigor

In resemblance of someone else

You are you

Just you, not another

Comparing themselves among

Themselves are not wise

You are custom-made

None else was made exact like you

Your brand is just one in

The market of life

Just you not another

Your existence is not a coincident

Neither is it an eventuality

Nor a misfortune

To have you around in

Such a time like this

It’s predetermined for a distinct purpose

Tap the originality of your make

You are you

Just you not another

                                                                Ronke Adeleke

ABOUT US

We are a group of dynamic youths with refined ideas and a burning passion for Christ, who have come together to create a platform through which we can reach the world. It is our prior aim to remind youths and the world in general, of the undying love of Christ for all.

Our mission is to inspire and cultivate the mindset that this generation is bestowed with numerous talents also known as treasures, which can be used for good causes. Even though it sounds cliché and you, our dear readers, may be tired of hearing it, we all need a wake-up call.

Join us on this beautiful adventure as we wet your literary appetites through His Word!

Perfect Son II

But then again, what does it mean to be perfect? Is there really any person that is perfect? Someone who has never done wrong, as in, never ever? Honestly, I’m not perfect. I’ve done some good, but I’ve done bad too, lots of bad. My wrong doings created a need to be forgiven. I found that forgiveness in God, my heavenly father, who welcomed me back from my straying…..and then it hit me- I was never the perfect son, I was the other one, the non PESODITE. Wow.
Funny I had been judging myself all along but I learnt some lessons:

Don’t judge;
Forgive others as God forgives us- if the world was perfectly void of offences and if we never needed forgiving, there would be no need to forgive or be forgiven. Plus, forgiving helps the offended party move beyond strong negative emotions saving him from psychological and physical harm;
Forgive yourself- receiving forgiveness releases the offender from blame and guilty feeling and helps him move forward past the offence. Plus, “I think that if God forgives us we must forgive ourselves. Otherwise, it is almost like setting up ourselves as a higher tribunal than Him” (C.S Lewis).

Though, I’ve learnt these lessons, I still need God’s help each day to practice them. Perfect? I’m far from it, but I desire to be perfect as God my Father is. Forgiveness is a choice I’ll make so long as I remain imperfect (so help me God). But when I am perfect and stop needing forgiveness, stop doing wrong, I mean beyond ‘never hurt a fly’ perfect….forgiveness won’t be a choice, it will be a habit.


By Victory

Perfect Son I

When we watch a movie or read a story, we mostly remember the main characters, we sometimes don’t pay attention to the supporting characters and almost make the extras invisible. As a child in Sunday School, I heard about the old story of the prodigal son who left home and came back and was forgiven by his father…he even got a welcome home gift and party. Remember there were two sons? Do you remember the older son, the perfect one who did not mess up? 
Unlike most people, I saw this as more than just a story of forgiveness- it was also a story of how the perfect son was unfairly treated, and it kind of got me angry. This is how I imagined his story: he was the older son, really hard working, responsible, loyal and obedient, in summary, the good one. Unlike his brother, he never indirectly said stuff like “Hey dad, I can’t wait for you to die, so just read your will and let me have my cut”. I imagined him telling his younger brother “Come on Joey, not cool”. Even when he saw that his brother’s request actually pushed through, he didn’t go “Me too, me too!” he stuck with his dad, didn’t leave him lonely. He didn’t just stay back; he kept working hard and obeying while ‘Joey’ spent hard. He never got a well done gift or party but he remained loyal.
One day, he went to the field (I guess to work as usual) and when he came home, there was a party. At last, a surprise party, acknowledging him, else how do you explain his not being informed? So he called a servant and asks what was going on and guess the reply- his brother who left home and wasted all their father’s money he got was being celebrated. He even got the fat calf his elder brother probably fattened. How do you think he felt? Of course he was angry! He didn’t even get invited to the party. So he refused to go in. His father then came out to ask him to come in, and this time, he poured out his grievances. But, his father tried to make him see the reason to celebrate.
This made me angry. It didn’t seem fair. Personally, I have always made a conscious effort to be a good girl, the obedient one who never gave her parents much trouble or drama. In fact, it seems I had had this determination before I had my first milk teeth….. Oh yes, I’ve got a witness. Mom told me that as a baby, I didn’t stress her out when I wanted to sleep, unlike my younger sister. She said I’d just go lie down and I’m off. So it’s not too surprising that I saw the story in this light. How can you tell me, the self-acclaimed founder of the Perfect Sons and (apparently) Daughters Association (PESODA) that all I get for being a PESODITE  is to attend a welcome back party in honor of a non PESODITE? Not fair!

by victory 

As You Go Through Life

Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life;
And even when you find them,
It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind
And look for the virtue behind them.
For the cloudiest night has a hint of light
Somewhere in its shadows hiding;
It is better by far to hunt for a star,
Than the spots on the sun abiding.

The current of life runs ever away
To the bosom of God’s great ocean.
Don’t set your force ‘gainst the river’s course
And think to alter its motion.
Don’t waste a curse on the universe –
Remember it lived before you.
Don’t butt at the storm with your puny form,
But bend and let it go o’er you.

The world will never adjust itself
To suit your whims to the letter.
Some things must go wrong your whole life long,
And the sooner you know it the better.
It is folly to fight with the Infinite,
And go under at last in the wrestle;
The wiser man shapes into God’s plan
As water shapes into a vessel.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

A Man In His Life

by Yehuda Amichai

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.

A Song Of Life

In the rapture of life and of living,
I lift up my head and rejoice,
And I thank the great Giver for giving
The soul of my gladness a voice.
In the glow of the glorious weather,
In the sweet-scented, sensuous air,
My burdens seem light as a feather
They are nothing to bear.

In the strength and the glory of power,
In the pride and the pleasure of wealth
(For who dares dispute me my dower
Of talents and youth-time and health?) ,
I can laugh at the world and its sages
I am greater than seers who are sad,
For he is most wise in all ages
Who knows how to be glad.

I lift up my eyes to Apollo,
The god of the beautiful days,
And my spirit soars off like a swallow,
And is lost in the light of its rays.
Are tou troubled and sad? I beseech you
Come out of the shadows of strife
Come out in the sun while I teach you
The secret of life.

Come out of the world – come above it
Up over its crosses and graves,
Though the green earth is fair and I love it,
We must love it as masters, not slaves.
Come up where the dust never rises
But only the perfume of flowers
And your life shall be glad with surprises
Of beautiful hours.
Come up where the rare golden wine is
Apollo distills in my sight,
And your life shall be happy as mine is,
And as full of delight.

by  

Ella Wheeler Wilcox