The Living Tears Shed By Samuel O. Abidoye


Immortal Beings in skin, I laud your uniqueness and power. I salute and celebrate your person.

You know as much as I do dearly beloved that life first of all heard a cry from you and I; one that radiated the faces of a buoyant few with utmost joy and amazement and kindled aversion and sheer hatred in many others. There was this uniqueness in the hollering sound of that cry; it’s a note of acknowledgement that you’ve finally arrived a globe where you will have to violently fight it through.

Men as their manner is, tried to read meaning to the strong and deep-cutting message passed by your cry but futility shone at them like the bright morning sun. It’s however, the mystery of living tears caused to roll down your cheeks by the horrible and pitiable scenes of men’s vileness and turpitude which passed before you from the height upon which you stood with Christ in preparation and gear for your coming forth.

I, SOA having thought of this again and again have been made to catch a glimpse into correct realities about your cries and its underlying uniqueness. By virtue of my imaginative power, I was made to stream events whose veracity is unquestionable with scenes of your hand interlocked in Christ’s right hand as He walked you through upon a beautiful, golden transparent glass; a great height from which you were made to see the callous, murderous and brutal deeds of the men amongst whom you were to be brought to obtain your place which will be turned palace by the solution you offer to the problems allotted to you by destiny to solve. Here you are today beloved; haven’t you forgotten your drops of hot tears?

My sigh at this point has depth because your living tears are seemingly dead and apparently struggling with breath. Truly, you saw, quavered and struggled with believing the cruelty of men seen with the nakedness of your eyes from that great height. You were finally assigned here and just so quick, you appear to have forgotten that you emanated from our Father with tears cooked by the sights beheld by your eyes.

Haven’t the tears that should motivate you and drive your spine — to help you fulfil purpose, enable men fulfil purpose, hereby, helping them join the lineup of the buoyant few with whom our Father is well pleased — been swallowed by the overflowing tears shed at the devil’s feet by your authorization? You made yourself the devil’s Mary Magdalene, washing his rotten feet with your pearly tears claiming to be heartbroken by unworthy life’s circumstances.

It wonders me how a once-upon-a-time detester of the self-imposed and hell-inspired order of man’s race is now the chief-planner of her soon-coming doom and eternal damnation? There are few who sit amongst the brethren in reverence to and fellowship with God, many however through bad heads (by virtue of their contents) have made themselves serve the course of hell as agents of the devil and planning committee members of the most catastrophic feast, the feast of sinners, slated to hold in the reservoir of fire. I beg with us that we be pricked again by our living tears, repent at heart and introduce others to this haven (Heaven)

Yours in quest for the Celestial City
The 21st Century SOA
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