As a young kid, I was an insensible inquisitor, even asking questions acknowledged with adult nods and faint smiles. Raising my eyes to the night sky, I would declare, “Who put the moon there? Why does it never fall?” The stars seemed like someone had strewn them about like fairy lights. My questions for my grandfather included, “Who instructed the sun to rise in the morning and set in the evening?” Who made time, and when will it end?
” My favorite question was, “Who made God, and who instructed Him to make us?” At the time, these weren’t questions just floating around in my head — they were deep questions from a child who just knew there had to be something to life beyond what we experience. And in some fashion, with every question I posed, I was receiving answers, although never spoken. There was a knowledge in my spirit. I’d pray with such faith that God was listening to me — that He saw me and heard my cries.
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I knew that bond that much, as if we were friends.
I’d talk to Him freely, even about something stupid like stealing my meat from my little brothers.
Life intervened.
When I grew up, that magic as a kid began to wane. I was swept up by the hustle, the stress to pass WAEC, get admission, get a job, deal with family stress, survive Nigeria’s tough economy, and just stay afloat. Life was one long line at the petrol station — draining, annoying, and volatile. That spiritual connection I once felt? It was eclipsed by worry, anxiety, and excessive thinking. There were moments I knew in my heart that all I had to do was stop and speak with Him again — like I did when I was a little girl. But for some reason, I just kept delaying. I would tell myself: “Not yet, I’m tired” or I would say, “Let me just finish this project”. The more I delayed my pursuit, the more I felt empty within. And at one point, I couldn’t ignore that inner voice anymore. I would bring up those questions to Him again — not just out of curiosity but because I wanted to relate to Him. And slowly, I began finding my way back. Instead of now for the sake of His help, I began an intentional search for Him, as a lifestyle.
I stopped waiting to be “ready” or “perfect” before looking for Him.
I arrived as I was — lost, tired, confused — and that’s where everything began to appear different. Ironic the way we assume sometimes we need to have it all worked out before we can come to God, when in fact He’s hanging around in the mess waiting for us — ready to untangle it with love. The Divine One Resides in Heaven is a poem born from that place. A remembrance place. A space where I remembered who he was to me when the world hadn’t gotten too loud yet.
Sweet-natured are the assurances that mark one of the indeed best theological truths in the nature of God: when we stray, we can seek a way back. Not as a distant and merciless judge ready to pass his judgment upon us when we fail, but more in the light of a loving Father whose arms have always been outstretched in welcome. Redemption stories abound within the Scriptures, stories of those who had denied God in various ways- those faithless men who pondered more on their ways and cares, only to meet grace when they turned back.
The parable of the prodigal son illustrates one right way: a young man lives apart from his father, wastes his inheritance, but can come back and receive mercy instead of condemnation at whatever point he decides to come home. That is how God approaches us. No matter how far we turn away or how heavy the mess gets, He stands by to give restoration and not rejection. His mercy is every morning and His faithfulness to eternity.
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The guilt we mostly carry is not the guilt of God, but a wall that the enemy uses to keep us stuck. Forgive us, reconnect us, and rebuild us. It isn’t a lot to do with pretending we have never fallen but that we trust His grace is greater than our fall. So when you feel lost or ashamed, remember: you are never out of reach-the turn around point is not too far away. God is always near and ready to lead you home.
The journey of remembering God doesn’t take a lengthy prayer or a loud cry — sometimes it’s simply a soft whisper from a tired heart that says, “I miss You.” So if you’re religious, or spiritual, or just someone who once had that child’s faith in something greater than herself or himself — I invite you to read this poem with an open heart. You might find something of yourself there, and maybe, like me, you’ll begin a journey of reconnection too. For the fact remains — the heavenly one does reside in heaven, but He’s never so far from your heart.
The divine one resides in heaven
Happy is the one who wonders glad is the who ponders wise is the one who wanders far and near, to and fro again and again, now and then and even bravely to enter the den of difficulties, parrying and running hurrying and scurrying in the great unprecedented pursuit of knowledge of the divine one Joyful is the one that struggles cheerful is the one that fights and strives strenously like an armed soldier fighting on the battlefield pursuit of the divine one who is unseen seem unseeming to one as a step forward to seek him seems to be a thousand mile farther from him Men laughs at your tremendous effort which seems to end in futility
Do you believe in God?
Even if many doubt his existence, I believe that God exists and he doesn’t just reside in heaven – He lives in me and you. He is ever powerful, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, and every beautiful word I can describe him with! He is everywhere and, if we allow Him to, guides us through the rough roads of life. Do you, then, believe in God? You can comment on your thought (s) below, and I’d love to interact with you. Please share some love and share my blog posts with any who would appreciate them. I am growing my blog and would love that you are part of the journey. Please click on the link below to join my community. https://www.whatsapp.com/channel/0029Va99gavDeONCGjFLNv2L
Thank you for visiting and I hope you remember me in your thoughts!
