For you, what would your story read?
Would it tell tales of grace and love?
Would it inspire and challenge?
Would it dent marks of courage
For you, what would your story bleed?

The echoes of history will scream
It will yell in the faces of our children
The generations next will inquire of our times
They’ll demand for the truth

May we not show empty hands
May we not quiver our lips in despair of nothingness
May we respond with great pleasure, outlines seeds of gold
May our today count to the moldings of amiable substance

Light in dark dens
And glues in broken places we are.
If our bonds are healthy strings of compassion
Then our stories will tell of Grace and Love.

By Favour Emeakama
July 17, 2017

We are all pencils in the hands of our Creator.
Sketches of the pictures in His mind.
He does and will undo at His pleasure – for Our good.
Through the bushy pathways He’s shown us the tracks of His ways.
If only we’ll listen and adhere, in glory then will we walk.
Truth is it ain’t easy.
Plans swerve
Hope is lost
Prayers wear thin
But there’s always morning.
The rays of sunlight are daily bundles of hope.
Hope and a second chance.
Like the flipping pages of a book
One page at a time, until it ends.
He’s kind and compassionate even in the wealth of our folly.
Today is another second chance
Because that’s what God does.
He’s pulled our hands off the sketching tables
Because His plans are ultimate
And we whine when his drawings don’t fancy our tendencies
Lord please keep pulling us away from our sketch pads
That we may leave room for your Grand Design
In the front and center of our lives.

When We Pray…

When we pray
May we then pray that love drowns us in its unending oceans

May we pray that His perfect love fill our hearts overflowing
Sealing every perforation in our humanness

Our screams, be clothed with the skin of immense compassion
Stuffing our ego to the brim of your likeness

Where down in our lowest valleys
The drippings of your love can still whisper to our weary hearts

The life of Jesus this is
The love of Jesus compels us.

Favour Emeakama
August. 7. 2017

Dead Leaves on Green Grass

Buy a rake
Keep it on standby
Seasons will tell you that she changes like the swift movement of spectator clouds
So keep the rake close by.

Look around, all these dead leaves were once full of life
Flaunting their bare selves on branches
Each one, a graceful participant in nature’s beauty pageant
The trees standing high in the green grass
These leaves sheltered the intimate moment of the birds in their nests
These leaves!
These leaves are now dead
Laying hopelessly
Dancing to every tune of breeze walking past
They have no future
A foot on its head and it is crushed
Once valued
Now a bunch of rubbish
Although beautifully morphed to brown!

They are dead now
No longer relevant
They were made to stay on branches
Not laying dead and brown on green grasses
So bring the rake closer
That we may do justice to this phase of life the ecosystem has encountered
An appropriate burial suitable for all the times you were the beauty of nature my eyes adored each morning

Here is one lesson of life
There are seasons
Times pass
But ironically, TIME also stays
So it is with people
Don’t leave dead leaves hanging on your trees or laying on your greenlands
Whoever that is not being fruitful in your life is sucking away your blanket of beauty
Get a rake
Gently rake the dead leaves

The trees will stand, and the branches will remain
Let sustenance be the glue between you and the branches in your life
Growth is offended by the stagnancy of rancid waters
Those that keep growing and make you grow.
Through the seasons
They stand.

So as the seasons, Life is in phases
Frostbite befriends the ears of ones refusal to end the dance with Summer
Move, move, chase life!
Clean up!
Dust up!
Live.

~Emeakama Favour~

October 31, 2016