Driving from the village,
From the rural homestead -
Happily singing,
While dad went on driving -
Then storm clouds began to spread.
Eventually it started pouring,
But the wipers were not working;
So we turned the way,
Our uncle did stay,
And found him on a tractor ploughing.
We kids remained in the car,
While dad went not so far;
"You guys let's pray,"
Our sister did say;
So we did and called back papa.
"Dad we prayed! Dad we prayed!"
So we shouted,
So we said;
He came and checked,
But nothing worked;
Still we were not dismayed.
Looking at the rain,
We prayed again;
And called our dad,
Who grudgingly came;
This time they worked,
Astonished he looked,
Seeing that child-faith is not a game.
"You kids are witches!"
The old infidel laughed;
"How did they do it?"
He must have thought:
Not what we did,
But what Jesus said,
For by child-faith
The Lord was besought.
Hungry...
What shall I eat?
Something filling?
Something sweet?
Have no money,
Have no food;
Life on earth
Is just not good.
Heard of Sisters,
Out in Congo -
Bananas ripened,
I've got mangoes:
I go by faith,
To the mango tree,
Trusting by His Grace,
That it will be.
Although it's not
The season yet;
By faith I trust -
That I'll surely get -
One or two,
While I search through,
Dark green fruits,
And clusters of leaves.
At last I sigh,
A sigh of relief:
For as if sketched
By an artist's pen:
Two mangoes appear -
Ripe and golden:
I pluck 'em,
I eat 'em,
I praise the Lord -
For keeping His Covenant,
For Honoring His Word.
I take a walk;
To my cousin's place:
Had a good lunch -
Fries and omlette,
In a plate;
Sweet was the anointing,
While testifying long,
Let me stop writing -
Lest I go on,
And on,
And on.
At the ends of my whits,
With only one outfit,
Going along the way;
Walking deliriously,
Pondering seriously,
"Lord will you help me today?"
Passing Long cash queues,
In used and worn shoes,
I encounter a person familiar:
He'd been deferring to pay,
E'er since the day,
I had sold him a second hand printer.
I hear him mumble,
Pulling out a bundle,
Amounting to thousands five and twenty:
Things had gone bad,
E'er since he had,
Been cunningly trying to defraud me.
More than enough,
To get all the stuff,
To have an outfit sewed by the tailor;
As well as some lunch,
Something to munch:
God just knows no failure.
Tomorrow is Sunday,
The first day of the week,
When our Lord rose from the dead;
The day which Paul preached long,
And the story goes on...
But its late, I've no money -
What am I going to do?
Walking down the highway,
Rejoicing all the same;
Praising God for His goodness,
Glorifying His name;
I've tried everyone I know,
So let me go back home;
Tomorrow will care for itself,
The Lord will care for His own.
What are those blocks
I see cars avoiding,
Scattered on the road straight ahead?
I feel a powerfully sweet anointing:
They are actually loaves of bread.
But there's a bread shortage,
This just can't be true,
Or could this be the Third pull?
I pick them one by one,
Counting to seven,
Remanniscing the Manna,
Which fell from Heaven;
I walk home rejoicing,
And not by power nor might,
But by His Grace I ate -
Two loaves for supper that night.
In the morning four I sold,
Went to the house of the Lord -
With enough for transport,
Not forgetting,
To place some too,
In the Lord's offerijng.
He's still the same,
He does not change;
I'll invest my trust in His Word;
Praaise God for His faithfulness,
And the Message my ears have both heard.