Niecy boo - confirmation day!

 Proud witness/Auntie/Mmane Priscilla 02/Nov/2025

Tumi surrounded by her grandmothers and mom ❤️😍

Psalm 91

 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.[a]
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refugeand my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”

3 Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.

9 If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
10 no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angelsconcerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

14 “Because he[b] loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.”

More heavy extremes…

 

Father, 

your daughter finds herself, 

in the wretched middle of very heavy extremes, 

on the one hand, 

she contends with the evils she harbours, 

on the other, 

the lady embraces your presence in fervent prayer.

Yes…

I can hear your wind blowing, 

but my soul is immature, 

I cannot receive you nor your heavy creeds, 

Rather, incessant relapses 

into the hellish den - abound  

Deliver me from this wilderness, 

As I knock, and beseech you, 

to open the door for me, the wretched sinner, 

May you bless this attempt at repentance, 

wash my shame with the blood of Yeshua of Nazareth, 

By his stripes, consider me an earnest seeker of your presence, 

& May your embrace be my refuge and rampart. 

And in my coming or going, 

in the rushed busyness of life, 

Should those fowlers dare bait

me with their many snares, 

In your name, may I “trample the Lion & cobra”

and may I always dwell there, 

In your refuge, 

safe from the contemptuous extreme

through fervent prayer & earnest resolve, 

In Jesus Christ’s name … 

Psalm 91  

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2RpAQhX-reA

To Olo Mongale

she was here, 

the girl was here.

mmmh…

Looks staunch, looks like courage, she was saying : it actually is war. 

wrangling madness in a car.

Fighting.

Strong.

Eventually falling,

…Yhoo Olo’

she was here…

and warned women: 

 of the insufficiency of even perfect caution…

& the predatory tendencies of their sauve madness…

I have nothing to say, 

But to observe, come to anger & sit here…

& protest through soft text, 

about the fault in the masculine,

women remain receivers of their many perpetrations, 

from even men beloved of the loudest merit, …

These sauve monsters were/are brandishing relentless war, 

inciting unimaginable grief…

And they sit there, 

with many entitled to the very life they extinguish in women 

******************************************

many mental extremes abound here…

every year, history recycles the trauma, 

and we’ve been crying over these injustices, 

like harassed skeletons in the Republic 

******************************************

…I pray there’s a collective masculine urge 

to resolve the crises arriving with the violence they perpetrate…

*************************************

& that the feminine voice may continue  to rise, 

with even more wailing TO GOD! TO GOD!

& in our  mutual (feminine) grief …

to persist in our praying,

To herald comfort for even our children, 

For a better South Africa & a better world…

***sigh***

…& even in this righteous delusion 

and truly toxic uncertainty

of a nation under masculine siege, 

I hope, 

…we herald (pray) anyway ✊🏿

Oh! that we keep on praying! 

To Modimo Olorato! 

  

Rest in peace Olorato Mongale ❤️

Gracious tempest

 

Like hypocrites at the synagogue,

the heart is extremely wearied

by its moral performance, 

at the pews, I carry the 

the obedience of troubled evils

measuring the worthiness of my tired attempts , 

crying & wishing that by my concerted olympics,

and the resume of my prudish heart

I may be vindicated into the heavenly paradise.

At the centre of my supplications: 

My moral strength & 

many delusions of beauty…

Rescue my heart, 

heal it from its schemes of salvation,

and in prayer, 

by your deep compassion for me,

Immerse my growth,

Strictly & only in Christ…

and when I relapse again, 

with disproportionate mourning over 

the errors of my heart,

touch me tenderly in my conscience,

encourage me to achieve not the moral ambition of the  will (power)

but cause me to find you again

in quiet repentance & grace,

and with every sobering encounter,

elevate my wisdom of YOU, 

So I may live the rest of my days,

in reverent fear.

From trial to trial,

grief to grief,

death to death,

Gracious tempest,

I am your child,

Saved, forever & always, 

in your name, and your name alone. 

God’s prodigal

 the tides are sweeping over your child,

she gives herself to the currents, 

fights no more, 

the unimaginable might 

of the waters…

For sweet reprieves promised her at the pews,

she will no longer extend her hands,

the child has hoped, and hoped enough 

against many odds…

she  grieves the rescinding of the heavenly path:

her prayerlessness…

but she no longer wishes to

mind the tempers of the Word

and so she releases…

goes away…

and resides further into the empty, 

opening the void more & more…

mourning the absence of a God she loves,

convicted  by the gloating of many enemies,

dead & banished from the light.

but she returns ever tired, again & again to Throne 

 

*******************************************

And by ordained luck,

won in Golgotha, 

to one day,

stand in the eternal feast,

amongst angels & the saints, 

praising the Nazarene 

for the promised salvation,

the full presence of the trinity,

& the accusation of none…

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AzZC3EbH6iE