WHISPERS OF THE HEART TO HIM.

Dearest Main Man,

There is something the world does when they notice a distinct aura, wisdom, and fire about a man: they pause—to observe, to taste, to hail, to seek after, to check if it’s the usual, and try to get attached to see if it’s someone they can get rubbed on.

There is something about the devil when he notices a distinct aura, wisdom, and fire about a man: he checks if there has been a similarity years back—in weaknesses, strengths, and consecrations. He devises the best possible way to pull man down in sight of the world, then he strikes and walks off gallantly.

Just when I think I’ve girded my loins so well.
Just when I think I’ve stayed true to the consecrations—now master at it.
Just when the world notices the distinction and gathers around to taste.

Just that moment of little bliss and rest...Just in that moment, a small stain on my white can take me back to the very first phase I started to build up.

It moves me back to the place of guilt, doubt, uncertainties, and exhaustion.

Please, remind me.

That I have the One whose arms remain wide open even in the seasons of refreshing. His love unwavering even when everything and everyone moves on. The One whose pure thoughts and sharp gaze never shift when the smear on the white lands.

One that is best to sit with during the forging, renewing, and transformation phase.

Whether it’s aura, wisdom, or fire, I am still His.

Neck deep in fame, pride, or failure, I am still His.
Smelly, rotten, or fresh, I am still His.

There is no difference in His eyes to what I hold in His heart.

“You are mine, mine, and mine,” is His song every time.

He knows there will be a falling, but no matter the number of times, and the level of smearing to the white, it changes nothing about who He formed and called me to be.

Jesus! The One who still chases after the not-so-good version of man—How I love to sit at your feet and to behold your face.

You are truer, dearest, and better than the chase from the world and the taunts of the devil.

YOU, who sees the end from the beginning and the beginning from the end.

YOU, whose eyes are beautiful to get lost in.

YOU, whose praise and name never gets old.

YOU, whose arms never tire to hold.

What a privilege it is to be LOVED BY YOU!

And so, everytime I think I stand, I am well girded, I can be sought after, I have the keys to navigate matters on my own, I have the heart to hold the appraisals and hailings from men, remind me!

Remind me of the times when I wasn’t so strong, so I can sit.

Remind me of the times when I knew naught, so I can stay. Remind me, Lord! Remind me.

Remind me that your LOVE isn’t fake like the world’s. Remind me! Remind Goodness Idio that there is nothing more pleasing than to rest in your arms.

Please, remind me.