‘Brush strokes’ is one of the many healing conversations I’ve had with God in poetry form. I did not plan to write a poem, but I had questions, lots of them, trust me I am still asking, and Papa is still answering! (You can check out my post on Kingdom attitudes for Divine altitude, for more on ‘asking’)
I hope this conversation ministers life to you. I hope you have that conversation with Papa too.
Feel free to drop a message, if you have questions, or you just need someone to talk to.
God bless you.
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Brush strokes
Wednesday, October 12, 2016. 8:29pm
I sometimes wish I could paint
Showing different messages in powerful shades
Shades that could change the world in my day
To leave pictures that would last beyond the grave
Sometimes I have the pictures in my head
Yet I cannot make them clear
In diagrams shown by bright pastels
Showing a life that only the deep can tell
God painted the world in colors
Setting creation in a glorious candor
I look and stand in awe
Honoring the one who made them all
But I look at Man and I am taken aback
What has made the image of God so black?
A pitiful representation of the immortal One he seems
For I see no iota of the one who forever lives
Father is there a mistake somewhere?
Or is it my view that can’t see things in a form that is clear
Your glory the heavens declare
But Man doesn’t seem to care!!!
Frustrated with my thoughts I sleep
Oblivious to my environment immersed in a mist
Clouds of glorious Cherubims
Paying homage to the deity that dwells within
Though asleep I am awake
For my insides begin to quake
Before the presence of a being so great
Full of beauty that leaves me dazed
He speaks
All you saw was creation in a phase
And you thought that was all there is to paint
Yet all you saw was a stage
For the expression of my image
A painting beyond what the mind of man can create
Man was my original intention
Man birthed in the height of my Passion
Man destined for heights beyond the present creation
Man made for my holy habitation
That is the plan
And it hasn’t changed till now
For all things are made according to my Eternal purpose
And all things align with that one goal
Christ is being formed in you
In colorful strokes and glorious hue
Formation birthed in Truth
Gradually coming into the intents of the one with whom you have to do
‘Oh! but Man fell!’ I hear you say
Yes a kind of man fell
But it’s all part of the painting!
That was a pointer to the true picture I kept within
A wisdom handled only by the one who is hidden
There is a purpose in me
Which mere eyes cannot see
Save for those that have been cultured by the seven spirits
The custodians of my own Mystery
You are a painting in the making
A glorious expression of the nature in Me
A replica of the intents and purpose kept in my within
You were born for a reborn in the Father’s Deep
Silently my Spirit broods
Patiently waiting for you to rise in perfect bloom
Daily He instructs you in the Way that is True
That you may walk circumspectly and do the things you see me do
Your heart is the canvas on which I paint
My words are the brushes
They apply my nature in you in colorful strokes
Teaching you to daily take my yoke
Never again should you look at yourself and sigh
Your definition is beyond the natural light
Daily you are evolving into the Man called Christ
The Master Potter who is daily molding you in his Light.
Omo Oba.