I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

I am like clay. The Lord spins me around in His

hands, molding me on the potter’s wheel.

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Like glass, He allows me to go through fire – takes

me out not a moment late, and not a moment too soon.

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For every grocery bag He has filled, I say Hallelujah.

Oh, how much more then I should be sowing into your

Kingdom.

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Mouths are hungry. Not just for food, but for the

intercessory prayers that perverseness would be wiped

away from their lips.

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Some people simply do not know that Jesus is King.

Media promotes pontification on powers and principalities.

But what could truly be greater than He who has

overcome them all?

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The Lord says, “Touch not my anointed.” So no matter

where I land, nothing can defeat me.

I have no fear or worry about “IF” the tides will turn

In my favor, because the wind and waves obey MY Father's

Voice.

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I rest, and He protects me. Warnings and wisdom are

gently whispered into my dreams. And I heed His guidance.

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His sheep know His voice. I am not confused by the

competing voices of this world. I find clarity in silence.

Trust in stillness. Intimacy in tears.

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Oil stains every wall, book, nook and cranny, because I

consecrate these things for your good works. Squeezed,

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pressed down, shake out all the good measure from these tools

and resources you have granted me.

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In times when I had little, you taught me resourcefulness.

So I will not bury this seed. I will multiply.

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I uproot and remove every thing whose roots are planted in death and destruction.

May those cursed seeds and spores never reproduce. (I’d say “for my 

bloodline”, but your future generations may come in contact with mine,

so my prayer is that we all kill this serpentine, so the kings we leave

behind have no need for strong drink nor wine.)

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My purpose is beyond what brings me pleasure or feeds my pride.

My purpose is not to rally up opinions or prove to people that I

could survive.

My purpose is not even my purpose for me to decide.

My purpose is to quit striving for perfect, obey the voice of God and

buckle in for the ride.

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I am never alone. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean anyone isn’t

Home. It’s me, heavenly angels, sisters in Christ, and my heavenly Father

who sits on the throne.

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No mind racing, what I’m supposed to be in a rush for?

God promised me exceedingly above and much more.

The blood of the Lamb covers me and mine, but Pharoah and

those egyptian sons are done for, I mean…

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The wicked should repent, I pray you open up your heart to.

If you possess the truth, I pray you dish it out like kitchen soup.

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Love people, so loved people can love people who people ain’t love.

Money won’t fix every problem, but praying in the spirit really does.

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Martha, be not distracted with miscellaneous obligations.

Be still in Jesus’ presence, let Him instill in you patience.

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I’ve felt pain and been bruised, bitten and betrayed.

Yet you see me, here I stand, blessed and unscathed.

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There’s not a potion that healed me - no drug & no drink.

Not a crystal that saved me from lust and its wink.

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There is nothing I could have done on my own,

to save me from the slavery of working to the bone.

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Raised muslim, in a house that turned to abuse and

addiction.

I spent time in the world, trying to heal my own

affliction.

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I was foolish, felt unworthy, operated from a place of

shame. Looked for love to soothe my abandonment,

turns out I was handing vampires my veins,

I mean…

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Entrusting people with my heart who were never qualified

to hold it.

Believing what they said about me - my story different depending

on who told it.

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I had no foundation. No sense of who I was. No explanation.

I looked at those empty gaping skies like, “God you

might be real, but we must not be related. Cause

here I am going through hell and you won’t help me

escape it.”

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It wasn't God’s fault.

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I was playing in sin. I’m the one who got caught.

I was stubborn and young, spiritually dumb.

One day I got tired, finally surrendered, I said “God,

can we talk?”

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Ever since that day, our relationship grew.

I threw away tarot and toxic exes, I told satan “We’re through.”

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I got on my knees and prayed. 

Bit by bit, started reading my bible.

I learned that phones, social media, and everything we worry about,

become our idols. So I repent and thank God for His word

being insightful.

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Before Christ, people tried to make the introduction, but I was

stand-offish. 

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I felt attacked.

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People who were unclean themselves, trying to tell me to get polished.

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I’m not telling you.

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I’m not begging.

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Every one of these random lines flowed from obedience.

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I know the peace that I’ve received from Christ, and I just

want you to have the ingredients.

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Could you give Him 30 days? A little free-trial subscription.

That I promise would turn into a life long prescription.

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I think i’m towards the end of this…prose, poetry, fiction?

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Whatever you want to call it, I pray it plants a seed of conviction.

To find God. Get closer to Him. Or just go deeper in y’alls love.

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With Gratitude,

Salimah (but it truly came from above)