Dinner at The Colemans ( Part 4)

Click on this link for part 1: https://mayorspen.wordpress.com/2020/03/26/dinner-at-the-colemans/

Click on this link for part 2: https://kemisniche.wordpress.com/2020/03/27/dinner-at-the-colemans-part-2/

Click on this link for part 3: https://demarkwrites.wordpress.com/2020/03/28/dinner-at-the-colemans-part-3/


Oh God.

Her heart cried out. For the first time ever she wished it was Jason. She knew Jason was too principled and calculated. If there was anything he wouldn’t do, it was to act a minute later or before time. It was going to be this night anyway. Just that the hours seemed to drag and everything around her had begun to blurr. Faintly, she heard pacing footsteps and panic breathing. Luke was obviously bothered about something else. That was the last thing that crossed her mind. The last thing that preceded the darkness she gave into.

The knock came again, this time harder and louder than before. Luke grunted angrily. His fingers tightened into a fist.

Couldn’t they have some peace and quiet anymore? He was in the middle of something. He was…

He diverted his gaze to his wife that laid helplessly on the floor. Her chest rising and falling slowly. Strangely, she was still alive and she still looked stunning. He cursed under his breath and walked towards her. Bearing her up, he took in the scent of her perfume again and tasted the bitterness in his heart instead.

How alluring the devil could also be.

He jeered towards the guest room, pushed the door open with his right feet and laid her on the bed, turning away immediately as his disgust built up with every insistent sound the person at the door made.

Whoever it was, was not ready to back out. And just maybe,a side of his lips turned up in a smirk, maybe Jason had just come in at the right time.

Rose turned and pushed her eyes open and instinctively touched her nose. The last thing she remembered was the sharp pain she felt on her thigh as she was suspended in Luke’s arms, struggling with every breath to remain alive. Now that she was awake, she understood what that pain meant, Luke had injected the antidote and it had worked like magic. Bringing her to full consciousness in ten minutes. She sat up, trying to overcome the dizzy spell that she felt, giving a minute to inhale and exhale gently. Everything was supposed to happen fast, she was supposed to think and act fast.

Luke could be back any minute from now and… she glanced at the wall clock adjacent to her. Jason should be getting accross to her soon. Ten more minutes and she should expect her phone to ring.

Oh Jason. Her heart seemed to long for him even in this dangerous place.

Rose pushed her self up and stood. Then another memory like a quick trance hit her hard.

There had been a knock on the door, someone had disrupted Luke’s plan. Who was that someone??

Her phone! She needed her phone. She hurried to the door of the room. Time was racing, faster than before. Luke must not get to her phone before her, if he did, she’d be dead by the morning. She made to turn the door knob and found out it was locked from outside.

Good gracious!! Luke had locked her in. Her mind raced.

what was really happening out there? Why didn’t Luke allow her to die? why did it seem like a conversation was going on the in the living room. Why did…

The sound of shattering glass halted her thoughts and then the stern deep voice of a man. No it wasn’t Jason, it would have been much better if it was Jason. Dread crept into her heart, engulfing her mind and pushing out goosebumps to the surface of her skin.

Then the next horror happened.
She heard her phone ring at exactly the time Jason promised to call.

Click on this link for the next part.

Dinner at the Coleman’s (Part 5)


They called him Edward in the other life; the life where he lived as a pilgrim, his sight onward single, and hoping. There had been some others that saw his violence, his thirst and hunger for the things unseen. We had watched him closely, we had seen it all, and yet again we watched him one last time take the final steps to finally reach us.
Heaven was silent, time seemed to cease. His feet caressed the moist floor; the last of which he would step on before he ventured into the shadow .In the other life, his boldness and courage had awed us but here we saw his reluctance. We weren’t surprised. He had only been told about the dread he was about to experience; telling is easier on the heart than showing. We saw him afraid and then impressively we saw him encourage himself,
‘It’s only a shadow’ he muttered ‘this too shall pass’
And we saw him walk into the darkness, down the valley of the shadow of death

Death hordes waited, their hands with spears and their lips soiled with their final deception. They would lure him into believing that everything he had believed was a lie, including himself. And then pierce him with fiery darts, sending arrows through his heart. The young man walked, silently, carefully, trying to calm his brooding heart ‘this too shall pass’ he muttered under his breath ‘I trusted him in life, and so will I trust him in death’. We watched him come close to hells hoards and we watched his head fall as he proclaimed his faith. For a while, events seemed to slow down… something was happening. Something that made our face lighten and an awe seemed to shake heaven. We saw the young man completely changed. It wasn’t exactly a glorious sight to a normal eyes, for before us was a slain dead man walking. Blood stains all over his garments, his hands pierced and his sides. Did Edward know this was happening, we didn’t think so? Soon we weren’t the only one that saw it, the valley seemed to tumble in disarray.
“How can we kill him?” one of the hordes cried out, a shrilled fearful cry “he is dead already”
Following that came other cries of woe and they began to cower, opening up a path for Edward to walk through. How it was possible for a dead man to walk, they couldn’t tell, for this was another mystery they would never comprehend. All they could explain was that blood had been spilled already, a special kind of blood that appalled them. How dare they touch the anointed or do harm to God’s own. The young man walked, oblivious of what he represented to hell hordes but amazed at how they were powerless and frightened by him
“Dead man walking”
he heard them mutter out of woe, covering their eyes like he was some terror.
It was then he saw the blood drip from his arms like he had been bleeding. Had he been slayed already, was he already dead?

Amused, we waited for our Lord to grant him understanding, we knew what would happen next as we saw a glorious light approach the valley. His light appeared and dispelled the darkness like a shadow that it really was; sending the creatures into the abyss.
A deafening silence followed and then the once horrific valley became a beauty to behold. For the appearance of life is always able to resurrect even the deadest place.
“That is my blood Edward” the Lord’s voice came through before his form was obvious “how will they slay you when you had died with me; when you are dead to them” He drew closer to the younger man “you were bought with a price, you have been washed with my blood.”
And as we saw Edward fall to his feet, we rose to welcome him home. To the place he truly belonged to, where people who loved not their life unto their death will eternally live.
Welcome home pilgrim.

From us
The cloud of witnesses

Father’s heart ( Final part)

“Your son stands outside in the lawn my lord. He desires to speak with you” a servant bowing close to fathers ears, whispered to him.

Father was seated in the dining hall. To his right, his excited Kritica leaned on her brothers chest, speaking quickly, asking questions that at times he was too flushed to reply. Yet it was evident that her young heart had welcomed her brother home, not just because she missed him, but because Father laughed out loudly with the servants and his visitors again. The little she understood of Fathers heart, that little she treasured.

Father rose to his feet . Excusing himself , he walked out of the dining hall through the corridors to the gate of the building. His older son was seated on wooden chair by the wall. He smelt of the field and dew…yet when Father caught his gaze, it was obvious that he wasn’t just wearied, he was disturbed.

Rising up, the elder son spoke “Father, I have loved and obeyed you with all my heart. Doing all that you command, even going the extra mile these two years to ensure that you are pleased. Am I now less than a slave to you?”
The words had pierced through Father’s heart like a sharp arrow. Searching his son’s countenance, he could almost understand his pain. Yet he was willing to show him a way out of it. He allowed his son pour out the bitterness in his heart and he quietly listened until he was through.

“You are my beloved son” the words escaped more from his heart than his lips. Father had a way of expressly communicating emotions. “I am pleased with you. Even if you hadn’t gone extra miles for me, I wouldn’t love you less. All that I own belong to you: my cattle, my ranch, my estate. All of it. But your brother…” Father walked closer to his son “he had lost everything , everything but my love for him. Remember I told you to treasure people more than possessions. Its so sad that he had to learn this lesson the hard way”.

The elder son’s gaze softened. Father had struck a chord in his heart. He remembered the song he had hummed on the field. Of course, Fathers love for them was beyond the multitude of things he possessed, he had always told them, now he was only showing them. Why were they so blind to see it?
“ Everyday, my heart broke for my younger son. Every sunset, I remembered him as I gazed at the heavens. My joy would never be full even with the choicest farm houses or a better harvest.” He rested his hands on his son’s shoulders “I wanted to tell you this many, many times but you weren’t always there.”
At this point, the son’s eyes began to tear. Why was Father hitting his heart deeply with his words. It was like the bitterness in his heart towards his brother was revealed. While he had thought loving his father was almost equal to despising the son that stabbed him at the back, now it was like his father was saying, loving him was equal to going after his lost brother and bringing him home. Life really gave him a tough lesson to learn. In no time, Father had pulled his son into his arms . Kissing him on his forehead he spoke kindly to him. And the elder son wept.

How he wished he knew how his father had been hurting for two years, maybe he would have hastened the time, maybe he would have been less bitter and gone after his younger brother to call him home; reminding him of Father’s love and what they had learnt. He would have been more concerned with the things that mattered more.

He wept for the years he spent thinking Father was less disturbed with every tidings he sent home. Oh how wrong he was.

For a long while, they stood in the embrace, their heart beating against each other, longing for things, grateful to be loved.

“Right now” Father almost whispered to his ears “our love is all he has left, maybe out of the love we have for him he can set his feet again”
The elder son swallowed hard “yes Father”

They heard a chatter from behind, like two ladies speaking in haste to themselves. Somehow the voice of one of the ladies stiffened the young man. Like a flash he remembered the other news he was about to break to father. He deeply inhaled his father’s scent; rich island spices, something only love beings like Father wore.

The other news can wait, he thought to himself as he let go of Father, there was a reconciliation to do. His lost brother was found.

The end.

We bring to you a profound lesson from this story. One that should cause love to spring up in our heart for our fellow brother or sister going astray. Understanding God’s heart, we will realise that it is not God’s desire that anyone should die but that all come to repentance. Sometimes we get angry for God thinking that should be our response to everyone that strays away from the faith. The prodigal son however teaches us that God desperately longs for a comeback. And we should long for this too reaching out and praying for such ones. If the elder son had longed for the comeback of his brother, he would have been quick to rejoice with the Father. Luke 15:28-30 expresses the heart of this young man that cried out for justice, then going down the scriptures we see the father’s love well expressed.

Remain loved😘♥️

Feel free to comment what you think about this illustration. God bless us!

FATHER’S HEART ( part 2)

The sun had begun to set; Father had grown accustomed to watching the west end, observing the beauty of sunset from the elevated area their home stood. This day he was seated on his rocking chair carefully observing the yard, waiting for the first signal of sunset. When it came, he diverted his excited gaze to the sky. How beautifully it partitioned; darkening the blue and giving it a tint of gold that started to spread. He wished he could reproduce the sight and keep it hung in his room. He had watched for a while when he had this impulsive urge to lower his gaze. He did lower it, and from the far end of his yard, the point that is regarded as an entrance, stood a young man dressed in shredded clothes. The servants seemed to pay no attention to him as they discussed with themselves.

Father looked harder. Who was he seeing? It was usual to see strangers walk in and out of the yard but it had being years a man so haggardly dressed walk into this place. Even his servants wore rich clothing and carried themselves with dignity. The man that stood at the entrance didn’t seem to have any dignity, not even the one natural to a child. His head was fallen and his shoulders slouched like he was reconsidering coming further.
Father stood up. Why weren’t the servants taking note of him?. Some had even walked past him and slightly brushed his shoulders or spilled dirty water on his feet without apologizing. They probably thought he was a beggar, they probably wanted him to take the first move. Was he really a beggar? Fathers heart pounded as hope beamed in it like a light bulb.

He stood up and began taking steps up the yard. The interest he had in this man was more than compassion for a beggar, it was as strong as the desire that he was walking towards his son. Half way through his journey, the young man raised his head to reveal dirty unkempt facial hair and patches of injury on his face. He was uncomely and disoriented. Yet through all these, Father saw what took him a little bit off balance; the dark blue eyes and the scar on his forehead. His heart leapt for joy, was it really his son? Was his son really back? He couldn’t take it anymore. He broke into a race. Surely it was his son that had glanced at him and turned away in shame.
The servants astonished, stopped what they were doing and gazed.

I am not worthy to be called your son the young man had said when he hung in his fathers arms fearing to put his arms around his father. Father released him a bit, kissed him on his forehead and turned to the astonished servants. “Tonight we are going to have a party” his excitement completely overshadowed their questioning gaze as they assessed the beggar he called his son. Then he gave the quick orders. “kill the fattest calf and dress immediately”

Turning to the maidens that stood by with baskets of produce in their hands he ordered “Nurse my sons wounds, get him one of my garments and put a ring on his finger”

As confused as they seemed to be at his orders they knew better than to hang around when he gave urgent orders , especially not when he kept announcing “My son has been brought back to life. He was lost but now he has been found”
His right arm was steadily on his sons shoulder as they walked down the yard to the house.
“I’m sorry father” the son managed to say amist broken sobs “I do not deserve this welcome. I am of no worth to you as a son now”
“Hush son” Father urged calmly. “I decide what to make of you. Yet I remain your father, life cannot change that”.
Emotions swelled. Incomprehensible communion between the joyful father and the crushed son. He wept so much that he had little strength left to narrate his ordeal or even walk at Fathers pace. Father had to slow down for him. The servants hastened around the yard, hushed whispers and escaped exclaims. No one could really understand why Father did not turn him away immediately he came. Some looked at him with a little bit of disdain, a few that had known Father a bit closely lifted from their hearts the burden that they had equally beared. For it was obvious to them that Fathers delight was before him, they need not go the extra mile to please him anymore except that this time going the extra mile was loving the son maybe not as the Father loved him but well enough to honour Fathers love for him. Those few servants bowed to them when they walked past and smiled at the son. Sincerely welcoming him home.

The elder son pushed his wearied body further, few miles left and he’d have only the hill to climb. He had fallen asleep in the shepherds shed and woken up at the break of dawn to start up home. The hills seemed to look more beautiful than before, maybe because the flowers that trailed upward were properly tended. He had really been away from home a long time. He sighed, wasn’t he still coming home once in a while?… Yet it was obvious that his once in a while had never been enough for him to notice any change. It wasn’t even enough for him to do more than watch the sunset with Father. He had thought he read Father’s needs in his silence. Maybe he could work harder and gain enough possessions, so much that what his younger brother had taken away would not be felt. Maybe he could bring pride to his home again by marrying a good woman and clearing up the dent his brother had made. If father had no regard for possessions, he obviously would love little sons. So the elder son never bothered to ask. He didn’t need to.

“I read your pain Father” he had told his father one eve “I promise I will make you proud again”
Father had nodded, a soft smile on his face as he turned to look at his son. The love was evident in his glassy blue eyes, it was undeniable and enduring. “Are you not more than five sons, my child?” Father had almost whispered, overcame by emotions “You already make me proud”.

The hill was closer now and the elder son sighed out of relief. Enough thoughts about the past. Looking up, he envisioned the future. Few careful steps up the hill and the sound of music seemed to soar in the air and reach his ears. Where was the music coming from? Was there a party in his home that he was unaware of? He managed to increase his pace. Surely, no party can hold while he is away from home. And for two years, Father had not held a party with music this loud at home. Something was up.
The yard insight, he saw a young maid servant walking towards him. Her head bowed, she almost bumped at him. “Stop!” he motioned to the lady.
She raised her head . Seeing him she bowed again in fear. “I am sorry my lord, I didn’t know you were before me”
“What is going on? why is there music and aroma of roasted flesh. Is there a party?”
She raised her head revealing the excitement on her face ” indeed there is a party my Lord”. She took a step closer to him “your younger brother is back”
His heart beat seemed to halt at that statement. What did he just hear? “You mean my fathers son?”

“Yes my lord” she said as she gesticulated with her hands. “Your father had ordered the fattest calf to be slaughtered”
Some emotions built up in his heart, something that felt like resentment and every other thing he had felt for his brother that had replaced the pain of losing him. The servant girl noticing his unpleasant countenance sneaked away from before him, hurrying down the hill in fear.

He paced around for a while, deeply feasting on his pain, planning the words he will say to Father.
Was Father not too weak? does such a son deserve any honor?. As far as he was concerned, he deserved to answer to the village council; he was never to return anyway except he came back with everything he took with him.

He jeered towards the yard, his disposition completely different from how it was at dawn. He needed to speak with Father.

To be continued…

You can guess what happened next right? Well… Just maybe you haven’t seen it the way it will be potrayed in the concluding part. Watch out!! Anticipate!!!

Remember to like, comment and follow.


I’m interested in the silent rhythm of your heart
The wells from which some sort of wonder flows
For in times when lips shouldn’t utter words
When all to be said and done is embedded in hidden scrolls
The ones you read, the exact ones you love
I remember you call it the blessing.

In priestly garments I see you bear the blessing to the courts
Your eyes set on a path, checking me out in-between
Gap toothed dimpled smile; it births in me an enduring assurance
I’m loved, I’m safe, I’m covered.

Momma says you have dove’s eyes
I see it too; a gentleness I covert
And as you speak, do I just hear love’s tales?
No. But the voice of an oracle, the one that speaks Messiah’s heart.

And then when you say you love me
I absolutely know it’s timely,it’s true; bearing eternal essence…
Of a company that will terrify the enemies at the gate
For the little ones that’ll look up to a man like you
Will surely see in their God-like father treaded paths and worthy sacrifices
Of love and passion
Of faith and gratitude

Your footprints could translate to amazing stories
Of how you followed our father through the dark and into many lights
And how your heart longs to follow even more
For years to come till forever ends.

I’m interested in your silent plea
That I come up with you
To the special place He has made for us
Through the gates to the courts and up Zion’s hills to the age to come
I’ll follow hither my love, hold your hands when you are weary
Take bold steps ahead when you faint

We’ll do this together
This thing called company
Or what do we call it on earth again?
Oh yes. Marriage.
I will. I surely will.

By the way…
Happy Valentine💖

Now this re-echoes the truth that the real essence of marriage is beyond procreation or just having someone to live with for the rest of your life. As God instituted it, it’s a major step to building a company of people that will follow God till the end of the age. It’s an extension of God’s love, for in his kingdom, we thrive on the only love that is true, that defines every relationship. ( John 3:16, 1 Corinthians 13)

Let this piece make you yearn to build a company that will please God in every way, one that will do the will of God and finish it. One where you’ll find the purest love that God intends for us when he says ‘ two shall become one’ .

And if you’ve found that love, let this inspire you to keep building on it. If you haven’t , may you never settle for less.

Happy Valentine loved ones😘😘


He lifted his head like it would save his scalp from the scorching sun. Scanning the field and the self-made ridges, he realized that sooner or later the sweat dripping from his forehead would minister some sort of satisfaction of the planting season. He couldn’t wait. His bones cried out for mercy, his muscles strained from so much contraction. Never had he worked this tirelessly for a long time. He had no regrets anyway. His reward was near. And if for anything, his heart swelled at the thought of it.
Father would be elated. They would have more time together and maybe he can bare his heart open to him. Some thoughts have been filling it lately, strange but fearfully welcomed thoughts. A year ago, he would have fought its growth like a cancerous cell on a verge to be malignant. This time, he was pretty sure he had given up to the growth in his heart; only that it didn’t seem like cancer. It was instead a tender flower springing up in his heart without shame. He couldn’t wait to tell Father, but first he must plant and endure the season as he has done in times past. Nothing should matter more than Father’s heart and instructions, not even the flower…not even her.

His biceps moved as the hoe in his hands dug through the humus, a melody in his heart. It was a song Father had taught him as a child; a song about a love he didn’t comprehend. Maybe he was understanding better now, maybe not. Only Father will tell.

Father stood an acre away, sheltered under a tree, leaning on a Boulder. His friend had just left off and he was still holding his wine cup in his hand, half tilted to the right, somewhat lost; somewhat bothered. Something was missing. His heart could not deny the pain he had tried to suppress for months. Every time when he looked through his tiny window, accessing the fields, waiting patiently for someone.
“Forget him!” Father’s friend had said “such a son like yours should never return. And even if he does, you should send him back to the curse he honored more than you. ”
Father had glared at him, appalled by his friend’s words. Did he not understand the ache in his heart? or the love a father has for his son? Maybe his love for his son was over the board but that was the more reason the young chap was his son and not his friend’s. His gaze softened, mercy and understanding was enough to cease his response or rather make it more comely.
” I will love to have my son back ” Father said with sobriety, looking away almost immediately. For the first time in a while he had desired to be left alone. His friend’s company was one he desired when he needed a little upliftment from his weary mind…but this day, he wasn’t willing to pretend that the sorrow in his heart was absent already. He hoped his friend would pick his hat, bow and head home. He wanted to remain there alone, staring south with a yearning for his son-The one that took half of all he had and took off, the younger to his faithful son in the field- His beloved. For he reckoned that that was the only way he could be truly uplifted.

The birds chirped in a distance, a tender breeze caressed the tall grasses of the field before him . Wings flapped loud enough for Father to hear. He sighed, lifting his right hand to smoothen his brow. He was dressed in his most regular and least regal garment. A simple but richly hewed violet robe that slightly brushed his ankles.

“Father” that was his little girl, running towards him from behind.
Turning around, he opened wide his arms. He allowed a sincere smile and lowered a bit for his daughter to jump on him.
“Are you alright Father? she asked
“do I look not alright? The planting season seems to be going on perfectly and the weather is the best it can be. What could make me not alright?”
She stared a bit at him, holding his gaze with her dark blue sleepy eyes, slightly hid under her dark haired fringe, her lips pouted to a rose bud form. She could almost sense that her father was lying. “I dont know Father” She mused. Her head fell on his neck “let’s just go home”
Father relished his little girl’s embrace and carrying her up, he begun his walk up the hill she had come running down from, to a big traditional house that stood a mile behind it. Adjacent to their home was a family house that used to belong to him too. Only that two years ago, something worse than misfortune gave a fast blow on his possessions and the farm house had gone with it. Anytime he took a quick glance at it, it seemed to strike his heart like a piercing arrow. A strange pain, of betrayal mixed with a fear that his second son might be lost forever. His love for his son had shown in two years to transcend whatever possession the world had given him. His sweet little boy that had treacherously ask for his inheritance and left was still that sweet little boy that once rested his head on his fathers neck the way his six years old Kritica was doing now. He pushed her up a bit and she relaxed better as he begun his steps up the hill.
Love indeed had its downside, one only a father like him would understand.They were welcomed home by servants rushing towards them.
“Let me help with the child” the kitchen maid had urged. Kritika seemed to have fallen asleep in Fathers arms
“Not to worry my dear” Father declined. ” I will tuck her in”

The yard where the house stood was a large square with two little tents positioned at both extremes. The ground was filled with red harsh sand and servants either stood or sat around doing laundry or dressing lambs ; regular weekend duties. In no time a bunch of servants flocked him with reports of their duties. As usual, Father was impressed. They loved him and it seemed that for the past two years they had all decided to do the extra to make him forget about the ordeal. If only they knew that everything reminded him of his great loss including… them.
“Father, I am impressed at the way you treat your servants. Some sons do not have such grace that they enjoy” the younger son had told him sometime ago. Father remembered it like it was yesterday. He never took his sons commendations with levity.

“Something I want you to learn” had been his gay response ” the soul of a servant does not differ from that of a lord. Neither does their essential needs. So be good to everyone”

Father had dismissed his servants at the entrance of the hallway. He walked gently to Kritica’s room. Her weight was beginning to tell on his arms but he would rather carry her forever than give his sleeping daughter to a maid. He enjoyed watching his children sleep. Especially Kritika that never knew her mother. He was bent on making her feel so loved that she would only imagine what other love might exist apart from his. Love was his undoing, love was his weakness.

The elder son, his hands akimbo; allowed his eyes to stray round the field. He was impressed, so impressed that he felt he needed to change his mind about spending the night with his fathers shepherds. He deserved to stroll home and drink new wine with roasted flesh. And then talk to father, no maybe bring him first to the farmlands and then rightfully earn the grace to bare his heart.
He rehearsed it in his mind over and over again as he made his way to the field where the shepherds shed was. He could already taste the savour of his reward. Was he not more useful to Father than 10 sons? Of course! Of course!! . As he dusted his farm clothes, ready to begin his walk, his eyes fell on a boulder hidden beneath an oak tree at the east end of the field. And then there was this pain that followed, one he had tried without fail to ignore. The pain of losing his brother to a thirst that couldn’t be quenched. He remembered them standing at that spot as kids with Father. Father had begun to let them in on how they were fortunate to be blessed with farmlands and cattles and flocks of sheep. He had told them about the servants they had and made them understand that not all men were as fortunate as they.
“Life is fleeting” he could remember Father say those words like it was yesterday. “You thill the ground today, and tomorrow someone eats of the produce. We are only caretakers, one day our tenure will be over and some others will take our place”
“But father, why are you so careful to say that we are wealthy?. We have everything we desire. Money is never our problem” the younger son had said.
Father had looked down at his younger son and brushed his short hair with his right hand. He was right, father was too careful to glorify his possessions, but it was never necessary. The whole village could speak of his affluence, the things he didn’t say out were proclaimed on the streets already. “The worth of a man is not in his possessions but in the content of his heart and what he gives out” Then his voice had become a little strict yet carefully interwoven with kindness “be careful son, I desire to bring you up to treasure people more than wealth”
The younger son had nodded, a calm smile on his face. He was thirteen and good, but maybe Father had seen something his brother couldn’t see, something like a spark of an impending evil that would be hidden till twelve years later under the same tree, seated on the same boulder when the younger son was a different man with strange heart desires.
“I cannot bare to work for Father as a slave anymore”. The younger son had blotted to the ears of his elder brother “Since he cannot pay me for the years of labor on the field, he should give me what rightfully belongs to me”

“Do you realize its Father we are talking about here” the elder son was stunned. He couldn’t believe his ears. “What have become of you?” He blurted out

“The strong desire to be a man and build my own empire. I will not continue to be enslaved like you”

“Enslaved? Have you had excess wine brother? How can you think of it that way” rage had begun to build up in his heart, something was absolutely wrong with his younger brother. A while before then he had been lackadaisical about working in the field and father had tolerated him. If only they knew he was cooking up a plan.

So many things had gone through the mind of the elder son. They had being taught to honour their parents up till now, never had words been spoken about Father with such disdain. If his brother had been someone else, he might have dealt mercilessly with him. So for that reason that he was his brother, the hurt grew deep yet he wasn’t expecting what he would hear next.
“I want my inheritance!!”

That statement had sent the elder son screaming out. Was he crazy? Nobody talked about inheritance when his father still lived. His younger brother had completely lost it and he was mad at him.

Now he tried to forget the other words exchanged between them, for it seemed that eve, a dark angel had sat between them, uncovering hate and bitterness that was never seen before. It was a lie anyway. The love they had for each other was beyond comprehension and so was the hurt in the elder son’s heart when Father agreed to give the younger one his inheritance and he set off without shame

His feet shivered as he dwelt more on the thoughts. Maybe he should rest a while. Who ever thought a two years old memory could weaken him in such a way. But Father would be pleased and his pain would be eased when he knows his elder son is doing well and serving him selflessly. And maybe when he knows that he had a found a woman, one that would give the family more sons and daughters; one that would be for them like his mother had been. He could imagine the delight in Father’s eyes, and he knew it; that all his labor were for good. His heart had begun to rejoice again. He continued his walk to the shed. He would rest a while and then walk home.

To be continued

Anticipate!! you really want to know what is coming next!!!



Dare to imagine a man in love
So taken with his new bride
Someone like I; with a bride like her
And a desire in me so strong…
A desire for another place. A secret place where lovers go
A deeper Koinonia.

Yet there were questions.

For I must be certain that she wants this too
If I take a step ahead.
Will she chose to follow?
If I change the course and turn the tide
Will she relent? Will she doubt?
If I bid her goodnight and turn away to stroll in the cold night
Will she feel my absence? Will she look for me?

With brooding thoughts
I look at her; so comely and young. So given to the things I make of her
So confident in the place I have brought her into
Yet there is more I want her to be
There is more I want her to see
More of me than of an actual place.

So i turn away when she falls asleep
Taking a stroll in the cold eve. My heart longing for my beloved
Hoping she’ll miss me soon and call out to me
Hoping she’ll desire my company more than the comfort the chambers bring.

I walk a distance and wait
My ears ready to listen
My feet set to run, run to her open arms and bear her up
Take her to a place where we can confess our love again
A better place than she is in now; better than the chambers she so loves

“Have you seen my beloved?”
I hear a faint whisper soar from afar
Ask me how I could hear it,
For maybe that tends to explain how inclined my ears are
To every of her spoken words; in despair and in joy
My heart rejoices, my smile broadens
She is after me, she is surely after me
She had left the chambers because I wasn’t there anymore
Walked into the cold to chase after me

I laugh, a joy filled laughter
Yet she cannot find me, if I don’t go to her
If I don’t call out to her, she cannot hear me
So I walk down the path I came, towards my beloved
I call out her name to still her fears

‘I’m coming for you’ I say out loud ‘I’m coming to take you deeper…a place where the thirsty go
‘A place you have never been.’ An intimate Koinonia ; a secret place
‘Where its just you and I.
‘For indeed i am yours and you are mine.’

Hello there!!

We might have heard that sometimes God plays hide and seek. Now that’s on a lighter note of the real deal and it’s resounding essence. Now, does God play games with us when it seems like he has gone into hiding and we are propelled into a seeking spree? Absolutely not. The activity alone of searching for God as believers in a relationship with Jesus ( Jer. 29;13) does something to us. It brings us to a conciousness of desire, it stirs up hunger and a longing of deeper intimacy.(SOS 3: 1-4) The Lord Jesus is interested in we constantly, continuously saying yes to him. Sometimes he takes us to places of comfort and a level of rest and then because there are greater places in him, he finds a way to bring us out; one of it is him hiding his face for a while.

Now the beautiful thing is he is actually never far away from us. As scriptures says, he will never leave us or forsake us. He’ll help us find him, in diverse ways and means. And when we find him, he takes us to better places. I call it Amazing adventures with God. There’s more to God than what we’ll ever experience.🤗🤗 Let’s never get weary of searching them out.


What do you think about the theme of the post?? I’d love to hear them too.

And yea, remember to like and follow.