From the Stables of a Backsliden Christian…
What does God’s presence mean to you? How much do you value his voice? Do you still tremble in awe of him or like Peter, you’re standing afar off?
I wrote this poem in May. It was a time when my life was filled with much sadness steming from my disobedience to God’s instruction and my confusion and desire to fix it all and return to the way it used to be.
Funny how you may not have noticed the distance that slowly crept in between you and your saviour or you’re still where you veered off the path of righteousness. Maybe you can’t find it in you to forgive yourself or accept God’s forgiveness either. Maybe you’re like I was, just standing, chewing your nails, waiting, hoping for help. Any Kind of help.
I came across this poem again on Monday and thought it important to share my experience to Christians. There’s need to be careful in protecting that tender life in us that is the presence of God.
We really never understand what we have until we lose it. So here is a description from the yearning heart of a backsliden Christian.
Have You Seen My Baby?
Have you seen him?
I mean my baby.
My poor baby.
He’s the prettiest one in the whole world,
I’m not lying.
I wouldn’t lie…no, not to you.
Have you seen my baby?
I always keep him close to my bosom,
Because that’s where he loves to be.
That’s where he’s warmest
That’s where he’s happeiest.
That’s where he can reach my ears fastest.
Please women of the streets,
Check your houses,
Search your villages,
Check if I left my baby in your house,
When I attended that club with you.
Oh, woe is me for my shelter is gone!
Search your backyards,
Check your rooms.
The last time I saw my baby,
He was crying because I decided to honour your invitation.
Please women of the streets,
Check if I left him behind before entering that room with Kelvin.
Alas, my baby!
Peradventure, he’s sick with yearning for me too.
I’d pay any price to have you with me again.
It’s cold without you.
I’m sad without you.
Oh, woe is me for my lamp is gone.
Women of the streets,
Don’t mock me for crying so for my baby.
You cannot understand because you’ve never met him.
He is the fairest of them all.
My baby is more than I can explain.
Oh, woe is me for my hedge is gone.
I couldn’t be a worse mother.
I did not notice he was gone until nighttime,
When the men of the night dragged me by my hair,
When they struck me on my face,
He would not have allowed that to happen.
Oh, woe is me for my help is gone.
Leave me alone!
You men of the night.
My only crime is that I was found alone.
My only crime is that I walked naked.
Is that enough to drag me off to your prison?
Oh, woe is me for my shepherd is gone.
Please if you see my baby,
The one I used to keep tied to my bosom,
Tell him where I was taken to,
Tell him I’m sorry for not listening,
Tell him I’m sorry for letting go,
Tell him I’m sorry for grieving him.
I Guess There’s a Part 2
My sister just asked me if there’s a part 2 to the poem and it made me laugh hard. Jesus returned for me so, I guess I owe everyone one a conclusion to this story.
Here’s my answer: Yes, please expect a part 2.
If you feel that ache in your heart or recognize yourself in the searching cry of the mother above that lost her most prized possession, I want you to know that Jesus is exactly where you left him.
Like in Apostle Peter’s case, he’s looking at you even now (Luke 22:60-62). Note, that Jesus looked to him AFTER the betrayal. His eyes must have said, “I know what you’ve done and I still love you”.
All you need to do is say “I’m sorry” and you’ll feel his healing touch and beautiful presence once again.
God bless you!