Tag: poetry

“Stay: Watch with me for One Hour…”

“Stay up with me One more Night,” I came with the soft whispers of the night.
The Chilling foreboding of my impending doom, awaited me.
Troubled, I’d never known FEAR; Never knew Fright,
Until that fateful eve in my heart when fear was all I could see…
Knowing the thought of Losing YOU to face my Destiny gripped my sorrowful frame,
But knowing it was to SAVE YOU, was worth enduring the Pain and the Shame.

So, could you watch with me One Hour?

passion-Jesus in Gethsemane
But that night the weight was all too real!
The apprehension. The Pain. Mental Torture was all I could feel.
The threat of truly knowing life a part
Where my Father would forsake me for a start,
The darkness of loneliness creeping my skin,
The terror of emptiness Pounding within…

So I asked again: would you watch with me One Hour?

But on return to your sleeping heads,
the weight of slumber covered your eyes.
Crestfallen, the familiar stab of pain and disappointment hit me
But my loving compassionate heart saw your feeble frame, & I knew YOU were MY Prize!

The thought of your falling to Temptation’s Snare, pulled my jealous love for you to pray,
All I wanted was One More Night with you – Please Stay!
Yet, my cry was “Not MY WILL BUT BE DONE THINE!”
So that I could make you truly Official and Legitimately Mine!

So now you’ve found yourself in your Gethsemane.
Your Being & Energy calls out to me:
Lord, Watch with me One Hour?” and me I say,
“I’ll watch with you an hour, a second and a day,
Even a Lifetime.
Because I will NEVER LEAVE YOU nor FORSAKE You.
And finally, “YOU ARE MINE.

Let me know what you think peoples!
As ever Keeping it real, Peace! HAPPY EASTER!!

The Elected Lady xx

I didn’t know what to write so two poems talked!

Hi guys!!!

I looked blankly at this page and writing again became a block and the white screen appeared before me as too pure to be spoiled by the black particles of ink scrolling quickly across one’s screen! Moreover, it has been a while since my last blog (so much for me wanting to be more regular with my posts…well new year’s resolution number one out the window… But this shall not dampen my shine!)

Well so much has happened since I last wrote and it has been an incredible and interesting journey so far, and 2013 is proving to be the birthing year that I haven’t quite expected, however my focus has remained consistent. But, I will discuss that in my next blog a bit more fully, so right now I just want to share with you two poems that came to me in my moment of creativity and my most recent painting. Hope you enjoy!!!

***THE CALL- by The Elected Lady***

A.S.K

Ask…

   Seek…

        Knock…

 

I’ve been Asking.

I’ve been Seeking.

I’m still knocking.

 

I Asked.

     I Sought.

          I knocked.

 

I GOT!

            I FOUND!

                             It was OPENED!

 

HAPPY!

To Be Happy is to be FREE.

To Be FREE is to be DISCIPLINED.

To Be DISCIPLINED is to have BOUNDARIES.

To have BOUNDARIES is to be LOVED.

To Be LOVED is to know NO BOUNDS.

To Know NO BOUNDS is to be FREE.

To Be FREE is TO BE HAPPY

 

As ever, keeping it Real! Peace.

The Elected Lady xx

Laying down your Isaac…

     

"I come second to no-one..."
“I come second to no-one…”

Hi guys,

I prithee  please forgive but I must warn you now. This isn’t one of those “short expression” moments that I’ve recently adjusted to so if you don’t have the time to listen then I must advise you to overlook now or find the time when you’re ready to read/listen because today, I’ve a lot to bleed today and pour out in this journey called LIFE. (Yes I know I haven’t been on this Earth that long but my goodness! I’ve seen enough to let one’s skin crawl, and had enough adventures to fill a library…well maybe not that exaggerated but at least you get the point!)

‘Ever feel like you’ve come across moments in your life where you have been challenged to give up the things that mean most to you and to your heart? Or have you ever felt moments where you were challenged to relent and give up your hearts’ desires in order to possess something greater, knowing that it would kill or hurt you in the process? Well, to me right now that’s where I am and it feels like a knife circumcision to the heart. Let me explain…

On Thursday Night I had finished Choir Practice at 9pm and headed to Mojos (youth/young people’s club at New River Church). I walked in the bitter cold night and crossed the clear road whilst observing the green-cross code “Stop! Look and Listen!“, and marched towards the bus stop in an attempt to keep myself warm then waited for bus W8 to arrive.  En route to Lea Valley Leisure Centre, I stopped in Edmonton Green. 

As I arrived at New River, I heard the sound of music coming from the venue (as with any youth group) and I perceived that they must be worshipping. So I entered into the building and after finding a suitable place to put my bags and coat, I positioned myself to enter into worship. Enter in, My FOOT! 

picture by Image Bank
***Praying Hands= ASK GOD***

Initially, when I started to worship (i.e. singing, praying, praising, telling-God-how-good-he-is)  it was all good and I had felt a wave of intense love wash over me especially as we sung Hillsong’s “The Stand”.  Suddenly, the familiar flicker of fear that indicates when “something-aint-right” crept on my vulnerable heart. I couldn’t understand why. I puzzled and thought, and thought, and puzzled; then I tried to figure out as usual what the reasons were when BANG! Complete Disconnection. The crawling sensation of anxiety gripped me in a moment and I began to fight it and struggled to regain that emotional and spiritual connection. That moment of emotional distraction left me feeling somewhat odd.

So  I paced around the space in the room and eventually settled for sitting on the floor. This time I felt tired and simply entered the “can’t-be-bovvered” attitude whilst trying still to connect vainly. Didn’t work to be honest. It was in that instance when my friend sat with me when I realised that I had needed to be open and honest about what I was experiencing.  After a bit of small talk, I told her about what happened and tbh I was genuinely seeking answers at this point. I just wanted to be free from this sickly feeling and something she said struck a chord with me.

She paused then expressed how when she felt that way sometimes, there was usually an underlying blockage that needed dealing with and she advised me as anyone would- “ASK GOD!” I did. I had.  I had asked already but wasn’t getting or hearing anything or response which fueled the anxiety that much more. But this time I decided to wait and ask again. (When you’ve asked once and life throws you curve balls as NO ANSWERS, ASK AGAIN!)

This time, because I was actually READY TO RECEIVE an answer, it came very quickly. A scene in an episode of Friends where Rachel says goodbye to Ross came quickly into view. This scene for me had been so intense that it hit a part of me that I never thought would be impacted in such a significant way. I realised the scene confronted my emotions about a person I really really like and my feelings for this person had dominated my thought life for a long time that it was undermining even my relationship with my Maker. And it didn’t only undermine my relationship, but it started to dominate my songs, prayers and my life to a very small degree (but a degree nonetheless).

"Goodbye Ross!"
“Goodbye Ross!”

I know! it sounds silly and stupid. Ah well, what am I like?! It just seems that when I fall for someone I fall hard. like, really hard. Some of you understand. It was at this point that I knew what needed to be done and it was as if I heard the words clear “Lay down you Isaac“. (Look, for the theologians among you, I don’t pretend to know how theologically correct it is but all I know is this is what He said and I obeyed. Simple. We can argue later…)

But for the others who don;t understand the context this command refers to, it is the story of Abraham and Isaac and you can read it in Genesis chapter 22 (don’t worry I didn’t have to kill anyone but I understood the metaphorical context). In retreat, I knew that I had to let go and give it over to God, and so let go, I did.  In obedience and in tears. And this time, there was a grace and an ease to do it. The song “Cry me a River” – the Justin Timberlake version, not Buble (though I love him so) springs to mind. It was silent, but the sodium chloride liquid coursed through my body and released streams down my face and into my palms. Strangely, it felt like a huge weight had lifted at the same time but it hurt. It hurt a lot. And I don’t pretend to feel great about it. I’m fine and I’m okay, but yea, it hurt.

You know, sometimes it feels so hard to let go. However, there is always hope. You see, when God or life requires you to give up your best, He often has in mind an even greater purpose and blessing in store for you. So count it all joy. As  Maria from the sound of music said it best, “When God closes a door, somehow he opens a window…”

pffhtt! IT BEST BE A BIG WINDOW that’s all am Saying!!! coz for me to climb through that? Lawd have mercy!!

So, what have I learned today?

1- Well the keys to my Heart are in Big Daddy’s hands and when the time is right, they shall be released and it will be full of matured Joy. And Secondly, there is always a Ram climbing as I am, to be that substitute sacrifice. I don’t know…These are just my thoughts today. Making any sense? feel free to express but in the meantime let me leave you with a couple of songs!

The sayings of a transparent heart…God this is difficult!

As ever keeping it real, Peace!

The Elected Lady ❤ xx

Curiosity Killed the Cat…

curiousity killed the cat

IT WAS MIDWEEK– precisely Wednesday the 5th December, when my curiosity got the better of me. It was as if Satan had hung the forbidden fruit in my face wrapped with pure desire to grasp my attention and funnelled me through an avenue of guilty pleasures…

Monday had seen me head to the General Practitioners for another round of blood tests as a part of ongoing investigations concerning my beautiful body. However, it was a failed attempt as the phlebotomist was visibly anxious to leave and clearly didn’t possess quailties of respect and patience for me to find my blood test form, which I only remembered I needed on arrival at the surgery. Annoyed as I was, and to be frank, quite frustrated with the Big Man Upstairs for not reminding me, or sounding some alarm to remember my form, I left to jump on the big red Bus 329 towards Enfield Town and got off at  St. Anne’s/Cecil Court stop.  I decided to enter the cold creature comforts of my church hall and vent out my frustration (it is quite the structural attraction as it looks like a House from outside yet, from within, its a TARDIS!! small outside and mahooosive inside!).

Within a couple of hours I was fine and my peace of mind had returned (thanks Big Man Upstairs- AKA Dad) so I headed back to my aunt’s and up to my sister’s room to catch up on some much needed rest. The walking was affecting my abdomen and had really hurt so I decided that Bed was going to be my choice option from the menu. I also had some stuff to catch up on anyway. But that’s when it all started…

50 Shades of Grey by E L James

I was sat up in bed when I noticed on my cousin’s bookshelf the book 50 shades of Grey. It caught my attention as I have been fascinated about the surrounding hype of the book and not to mention that I had read the blurb a while back to discover why it was dubbed recently “mummy-porn” due to the illicit and graphic nature of the book. Now many will crucify me on reading this and a thousand and one haters and self-righteous critics will look at me thinking “I always knew she was a sinner!” or “kmt! really??” (Kiss my teeth for the benefit of the abbrieviated illiterate…). I ignored it but I knew that I was going to find myself (against my holy will to resist) reading the book. I just knew. Gasp!

To be honest, I only wanted to find out what the hype and the fuss was all about, and I had been really curious to research why it was the most talked about book this year and why it was so controversial. I know, I should have resisted. I should be repenting. And guess what? I did! Well…Afterwards….!

Now, I love to read and for a long time, reading a full novel just hasn’t happened. So far, everytime I’ve started, I usually stop half-way which I never used to do. It just seemed to be the case lately. Until this book. It certainly sparked my love for reading again and it was very well written. And what killed it for me was the irony of the fact that on Sunday my Pastor was preaching on the battle of the mind and mentioned about being careful about what we read and what passes through our eyes because its the gateway to one’s soul. Well I certainly put a boot in that didn’t I?!

And dare I hate to say this, I actually found the book funny, witty, lyrical and very intensely written on all the illicit content which is all shades of WRONG!!! should only ever be prescribed for marriage…

‘Took me two secret nights and a day to complete….my head was in a serious spin. Guilty Pleasures indeed! It was the sort of book that left you wanting to know what happened next?

For most people, they will not see a problem with this at all and thinking why the hell am I condemning myself over a book? but for those like me, who are trying to avoid treading where angels fear to tread until the appointed time and for me that is “wedding day“, it was an issue for me. Especially because it’s beautifully twisted. It’s lustful. 50 shades of pleasurable sin. It evoked all sorts of emotions and set all sorts of lights off in my brain and left me feeling somewhat guilty. ah yes. The after effect of giving in to temptation.

It made me see how that Old ancient Serpent’s skill at marketing had worked through sparking my interest, but also showed me God’s Grace. Because it was sin to me, in my eyes I fell, and needed to repent for that. Also, His Grace is sufficient enough to help me resist temptation. But In God’s immutable Grace and endless love, I actually found that he  used the book rather to teach me this valuable lesson:

“Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the
field: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.” Song of Songs Chapter 3 Verse 5

As ever always, Keeping it Real!

Peace,

The Elected Lady xx

Don’t know what to call it…Unrequited Love Perhaps…a Monologue??

Hey this is a Poem. I needed to find a way to express best what I’ve been probably feeling for a very long time. Sometimes, its very difficult to always express in continuous prose (full sentences…talking….the whole palaver) what you are feeling that it spills into poetic speech and lyrical flow. I was looking for inspiration meanwhile I didn’t realise my inspiration is my wonderland where I reside in my daydreams at the moment…

So Hope you enjoy….

UNREQUITED LOVE

The Storm is Raging,

  My Cross still paging,

    My Heart keeps aching,

Burning and Staking…

But you are consistent.

You are my baby…

My heart’s got me going crazy,

And this Love’s got me racing…

Can’t see; Can’t eat; Can’t sleep!

What the hell am I doing here?

Can’t move. Can’t breathe…

Why can’t I see clear?

Break Out, Break Free

in the midst of the storm.

My soul’s gone cold– real low,

Can’t sort out pain from the ache

of an unrequited love,

& the love of another seems so far-fetched to

Receive.

I’ve closed to real love

and the addictive poison of loving the love

that you dream loves you back,

That clouds your thoughts; your fears;

Your pains; your vision and it confuses the logic of a

Sure crossed-mind!

Undisciplined in death,

One favours the journey of the roller-coaster motion

  of a very alive beat of a heart~

     A Heart unrequited by LOVE…

The Love songs, the sick feelings,

The Longings, The wakings,

The keeping-yourself-busy

when you hear that little voice…

   “Let me Love you Instead!”

You respond. you answer.

You fight the withdrawals

of counterfeit temporal fixes of unrequited love.

You open to receive this love, but its hard.

You can’t see; You can’t hear; You can’t feel.

You feel nothing.

So you simply believe….meeting more dissatisfaction ~ A never-ending trap.

A colossal of pain, thoughts, physical drama, physical trauma,

Spirals into an endless hole…

Fight!

Fight!

Fight the hole! Fight the emotional addiction! Entertain Logic!

   Entertain Soul! Entertain Spirit! Music! Feel! Feel!

Dance!

   Waltz!

     Enter into Romance’s Sphere!

But Real Love took me

deeper. Darker. Harder.

“Let me Love you!”

The little Voice cries.

“No! You hurt me! I Love you but you hurt me!”

My voice replies.

Indignant at the realities of my warped views of Love,

The Voice serenades and comforts me. like a blanket

it encircles my being. Yes.

    My being within.

Hear my call! Hear my wait!

I’m waiting.

Then I realise the Voice, the Real Love

took me deeper to hide me. Protect me. Till the appointed Time.

Ahh Yes! Time.

An interesting logic.

An abstract logic.

A logic that transcends Kairos and Kosmos Time.

Oh that you would quickly arrive with a rush!

Yet my heart fears the unknown

and ponders all the negative results and yields to the waiting…

…Hoping to buy time to prepare and that what I’m waiting for would be also prepared…willing…

But Time doesn’t always prepare.

Effort. Work. Hard Work prepares.

Passion. Focus and a willingness to pursue prepares.

I go get it, but I want it given.

I’m an Oxymoron waiting to happen.

Someone please save me from the complicated musings

of my Mind and heart…

…From this unrequited LOVE.

Lead me to real Joy!

Pure Love Everlasting…

The unceasing Love not based on works

but purely on the heart that appreciates

the flaws of Men

and loves past the pain and for them its alright…

      The Love, that judges intentions and the capacity to Love rather than the actions of

Pure Insanity.

Oh Yes! I’m insane. Insanely NORMAL.

Fluttered with words that are limited by

the Explosion of Emotion that has not formally aligned

to trigger settlement, where words express exact Emotional Feeling.

No. I’m tongue-tied. Speaking but not speaking.

My Heart Screams and no one’s hearing.

I’m taken by distraction and the overwhelming silence

and inactivity has left me somewhat speechless.

Lifeless. Monotonous in action

away from the simmering eruption, which awaits

like a ticking time Bomb…

DING! DING!

(Pause)

So Many suggestions; so much advice!

who do I turn to? Where do I thrive?

Who do I lean on when the director is Silent?

My heart!

My heart!

My heart bleeds

Longing for that Passionate Unrequited Love that never seems to end…

Not temporal geniuses of a momentary, yearly infatuation

where the Choice of Love is a DECISION with PAIN

Rather than the EASE of life’s flaws-n-all where you’re taken…

Oh To hear the words

“Bone of my bone,

   Flesh of my flesh…”

I long to return to the Beginning.

Where I once was…

…with my Love before I was yet born…

Till then..? My heart’s on my sleeve while I wait…

Sparkle!

shine like stars in the darkness...

Forgive me. I ask that you my faithful readers would indulge me another day whilst I’m in this state of verbal diahorrea this week!

The rain fell like spears, yet in stark contrast I remained dry under the shield of my huge black brolly which resembles that of a witch’s hat. I had just been at church minding the youth whilst facilitating the weekly choir/band practice at the same time. Oh yes, the sacrifice that goes with multi-tasking is painstakingly rewarding…mind my dry attempt at sarcasm.

Anyway, tonight I just want to rant a little so there is no method to this particular madness this wee hours of the morning…

I am provoked. Intensely provoked. Severely. Most ardently weeping with provocation yet frustratingly disarmed. Now ask me why. Why? okay I’ll tell you. here goes:

So, I’m in my element where I literally feel this surge of intense electricity in midst of worshipping my maker with the most amazing people, and as I play intuitively on the keys (piano), I feel this power ricochet down my spine in the most hypnotic yet soothing and comforting way. This freedom oozed to the place where my vocal chords rest -er hem -my throat or for the scientific inclined, the oesophagus. And, like times before where I’ve found myself really relaxed, I begin to sing keys and notes that I don’t usually expect to sing. Like a miracle honey has crawled down my throat to open freshly to sound.

However, the limiting sensations of the “don’t-hurt-your-throat” and “be careful-not-to-lose-your-voice”, “don’t overdo it” niggle from the back of my subconscious mind migrating into my conscious brain. Even more, the pressurising thoughts of, “now you’ve got your voice back, save it for the n:flame celebration on Saturday!” echo through the croaks of an otherwise smooth and leathery voice. Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and pressed ahead. Hey, at the end of the day, as H.O.D  you kinda  have to get it together! But this wasn’t why I was and am provoked.

The sounds vibrated through my being that it was like ecstasy- like being hit with a love drug! It just increased my love for music. I just totally love music! I really do! I am most myself when I’m either playing the keys or singing or around music, art or when surrounded by creativity because it moves me in ways that the human intellect cannot possible express but only experience.  I love the whole performing thing. I love the glitz and the glamour though I find it most superficial half the time. And guess what? I’m not afraid t admit it. I do hate one thing thing though…or a couple of things i.e the politics and the injustice of the music business as a whole. But this does not dissuade me from the fact that I love music.

I just love the language of music. Now that’s my love language.  You can be a part of any other culture and speak a different tongue but the language of music is one tongue. Gosh, I love music!

Any how, back from cloud nine! So, I’m high on air gassing over the beauty of practicing for Sunday’s service, whilst contemplating a second cancellation of a cinema visit with my sister (sorry Unique Individual! love you) and then feeling guilty for even entertaining such thought; when 20:45 arrived and the anxious, telling voice of my beloved sister  declaring “we’ve got to go!” bellows from the main sanctuary as I say my goodbyes to my mum and Sis Jane. One massage, a kiss and kicking out my most beloved teens, we escape for some sisterly bonding. After a conversation later and a 10 minute bus wait, we board bus 313 and headed to cineworld cinema ~ a 3/5 minute journey for the most aid travellers.

On alighting the bus later at the Great Cambridge road bus stop, we embark on the brisk walk on the rain to the cinema. Up the stairs we ascended and then we took a left into the cinema foyer whilst discussing the interesting events of my sister’s day at work. Because I was undecided as to what film to watch, i eventually decided that I would scan my options, as you do. Well, there were only two films showing at the time that we arrived. One about the House on the End of the Street and Sparkle. OO, now that caught my attention!
Not only was I intrigued about Sparkle, but I was attentive especially since I knew that one of my biggest inspirations in music by the name of a certain Ms. Whitney Houston was going to be in it with Jordin Sparks – American Idol winner at least 6 years ago! So it was a win. My Sister and I were going to see Sparkle. Now we had to rush to get in as we were already 10 minutes into the adverts when we had arrived at the cinema.

provoked to dream...provoked to believe...

Now, we can get to why I’m provoked. Well this film pressed so many buttons in me on so many levels in a such a musical and Spiritual way. Especially with Whitney Houston and TD. Jakes being the producers of the film. Watching my inspiration on film and seeing how old she was and the sharp realisation that she is well and truly gone conjured up huge emotions in me. My emotions were scattered and I wore my heart on my sleeve tonight whilst I watched my passion unfold before my eyes. Music. Writing. Song writing. I recognised in the character that Jordin Sparks played, something that I saw in me. I recognised the passion. The ability. The gift. Flashbacks of similarities with dream girls and the whole blast from the past of old skool gospel with a colourful mix of mowtown and the 60’s/70’s with the tethering ending of the rock’n’roll era (which has never fully ended tbh). The way she hit high notes effortlessly, and performed to huge audiences provoked me because its what I felt I was born to do. To sing. Not necessarily for people but just that atmosphere just pulled on so many nerves that i felt had been deadened by disappointed dreams that I let lie. I was provoked as watching reminded me of what my Pastor said on Wednesday night during a study “dare to dream again…” But should I? I don’t even know what to dream again?! Most of my desires have changed over the years and probably matured. When I was 14, just being a popstar would have sufficed and everything associated with it but now, it doesn’t matter so much to me now, although sometimes I do dream. I want to be able to impact and influence people through music but I don’t really want the fame or the whole gimmicks, though I love the fashion and the glamour and everything. I just want to be able to be me without those demons who help make your money yet break you . Yes the ones they call Paparazzi.

I’m just so provoked! All I want to do is to do what Sparkle did and yet still have a beautiful relationship with a guy that supported her. And God I really do miss Whitney Houston. I feel cheated ’cause as a kid, I always dreamed of meeting her and doing duets with her. Well that’s not happening now…

Anyways I had to get this off my chest. So what’s the end of the matter? well there’s no end really except to seek and find what next and take each day as it comes and learn to dream again…keeping things simple and keeping the main thing the main thing makes a lot of difference because I’m too tired to allow confusion in my life anymore. Rant over.

Here’s some soul food in memory of one of music’s legends in the last 40 years…

keeping it real, peace out! Elected Lady xx

Out of the thorns is birthed a rose…

questions, questions, questions

In today’s modern society, with secular humanism on the rise and the revival of “modernised” Spirituality- astrology,psychics, and ancient spiritual practices, what sets apart the Prophet (a true one that is…in case some false ones want to include themselves in this category) from the preening voices, whose only target to the masses is to get your money and stir a revolution of followers to a place they haven’t been yet, or if at best, possess such qualities to help humanity?

Could we make sense of the disappointing predictions that either are false, delayed or simply distorted or hard pills to swallow? How do they in any shape or form improve our lives and how can we know what’s real aside from scientific, factual-based evidence, that seems by the day, to present World dominance by so-called evidence, which at best appears to erode the fabric of an inner and deeper nature that has not yet been fully comprehended or established by man?

Why, oh why the many questions? And why the many different voices presenting answers? Why are there useless responses accompanied with trivial understanding to complex situations?

Let me Think…

For many of us, these ultimate and deep thinking questions have plagued our thoughts from time to time over the years and for me they most certainly decided to show up today. ‘Ere I was on the bus writing this in my journal as my floating thoughts began to form a cloud and precipitate in orderly fashion onto the pages. I considered and I pondered. And I pondered and Considered. In fact I was on my way to a tuition session today when I suddenly felt the attack and bombardment of my thoughts- the deep inner questions  surfaced and began to gather sound and crescendoed to echoing voices in the silhouette of my brain.

These questions that I began to ask again, I realised that I would blog about questions and I thought I’d start from the place where it stemmed from hence tonight’s title. I will not seek to attempt to answer not even half of those questions myself otherwise the torture and the most arduous process of communicating it clearly would defeat the purpose of why I write today. Furthermore, I’m probably not the most qualified to answer all the questions in the first place but the ones that I feel qualified to respond, that, I will tackle…

You see over the few short/small years I’ve been on this beautiful place surrounding me called Earth, I have found that often the search for answers was quite meaningless. See the most famous of the wisest people to ever live, Solomon himself declared “Meaningless, Meaningless…all is meaningless…” (vanity is the other word for those who are wondering) The searches have been meaningless for they often haven’t arrived at bringing resolutions to problems but rather resolved to creating a painstaking web of more questions! I  also found that the search for answers was really not in the questions themselves but rather in the nature of the questions and discovering the nature surrounding the pounding mysteries that envelop our minds…

…I’ve also discovered in my deciphering of the files paged on the tables of my brain, that the key is not in seeking the answers but in seeking the Person behind the questions and behind the answers. There is something about the nature of seeking that draws on the pursuit, hunger and desire to know more. A desire to make known the sense of life and the world we live in by seeing the world through an objective eye. This nature causes us to pursue wisdom at its highest form, yet from recorded history, it has often left us flat on our faces and full of error.

Therefore, in recognising this, it begs the question- what have we been seeking in the process of looking for answers? have we been seeking the wrong thing? Has our perception formulated a distorted view and so consequently framed distorted questions? Well, I’d like to propose to you that the answer is yes.

Allow my attempt to explain further…

Let”s say, for example some of the biggest answers to life’s toughest questions have not come from political leaders or life’s greatest influences ~ I mean, come on lets be real! This is not to say that influential people haven’t had great impact and not been able to give answers but this is simply to say that the human reasoning alone has not been able to beckon the truest answer to life’s biggest and hardest questions like when a 5 year olds asks me, “Where do we go when we die?” or “where is daddy? (when dad or mum has left the family home as a result of a breakdown in family relations)” we don’t even have the answers ourselves but only what we think we merely know and so-called “common sense” tells us – which by the way is not common anymore…(sorry had to speak in Obiter…) how do we interpret that life to a kid who’s process in life and mental reasoning is as childlike as they come? huh? therefore, its suffice to say that some of the biggest answers to life’s toughest questions have not necessarily come from the top.

We have often sought the answers in things; entertainment; politics; places and even fallible people who are inept at processing completely, life’s constant complexities.

You see, our world’s methods of seeking answers is to ask questions and doubt everything. But the real way to seek answers is to seek a PERSON. No. The Person. And once you arrive at the answer, to accept is is the key. Even all hypothesis need to be proven by experiment so how about put this to the test. But what person are we or who are we suppose to “seek” – The Prophet. The Person. The personality and the person-hood of the Nazarene from Galilee.

Oh my gosh! there she goes again! her barmy self with all the religious nonsense! well really and truly its not. I’m talking about a journey. a personal relationship and a personal conquest, an adventure to seeking this prophet, who speaks truth. The Prophet, who carried the DNA of the Omnipresent One. He’s one and the same person. The second of the God-head. Yes. Jesus.

The problem with this is that mere humanity cannot begin to comprehend this, in today’s day and age, this idea. What? seek a person? no thanks I’ll rather seek the way I know how…but it provokes more questions that are set to frustrate you when not met with clear answers. They cannot seem to comprehend the analogy at all. In fact most people who read the idea of seeking a person rather than seeking questions or seeking an answer, think: what a wacko! Psychosymatic freak, waste of time who have sworn allegiance to Lunacy.

I’m stumped for answers!

This brings me back to my earlier question – so in a world of great Spiritual Awakenings, how does a prophet and his nature differ to the tens of thousands of psychics and spiritual healers and leaders and fortune tellers, soothsayers etc? 

Well here’s my brief yet honest conclusion. I’ve found that the secret of the Prophet’s difference lies in whom he’s serving and who he represents. Its in recognising that his true form is one rejected in his own environment and being the rose birthed out of a root of thorns. It’s in seeing that his nature differs significantly from the others in the fact that his need for sanctification and his deep cry for holiness and intimacy…

…It’s in knowing that because he represents the Voice of One who is most pure in every way, he can deliver answers to a generation and the people that seek to know answers to life’s biggest and toughest questions. So what has that to do with us?

We are prophets to this entire generation. Interpreting life, and interpreting our ideas of God, Spirituality and humanism, whether we be true or false is an entirely different matter. But this key difference removes the act of self from using our so-called “gift” for purposeful gain with no guarantee that one would witness the fulness of what has been communicated but puts a weight and a responsibility to carry a gift with care knowing that we can and will be heavily persecuted. Not only so, but its in knowing that the intimacy we have with our maker transforms our image and transforms us into the unique beings we were called, created and designed to be. The Ones carrying the DNA of holiness to a world writhed in depravity. The difference is in knowing that this is the true and the real and it trumps the counterfeit every time as the others still fall short of the perfect ability to transform a life in its entirety for the good.

See, a moth will never be as beautiful as a butterfly, though they are similar and have the same transformation process, One breeds life and beauty, whilst the other is standard…and brings fear ~ more people are afraid of a moth than a butterfly! What am I saying? what does this mean? It means by seeking the One who is to be known by us whilst we are known by him releases the answers that this generation so desperately needs and that we all need because we seek the person and not the question. We seek the Person and not the answer. We find Answer, when we seek the Person. This revelation takes courage to apply, so I’ll leave you with this…

“…The answer is not in seeking the question but in seeking the Person. So Learn from the Butterfly…The secret is transformation….”

As usual a song to listen to whilst you ponder… (feel free to comment)

Peace out. Keeping it Real,

The Elected Lady xx

ps: all pictures from Google images ~must make acknowledgements known…