You Can Use Your Writing To Preach Christ

Writing has been one of the major ways to express our thoughts, opinions, feelings and ideas to the world, society or to our loved ones. But is that what writing is limited to?

Writing is therapeutic. It changes the mindset of the reader. It lifts them from where they are to another realm, it opens the eyes of the mind to a new world. In fact, Writers are wonderful smith; with a lot of dedication and hard work, they fashion their writing into something beautiful to behold.

With this great gift of touching the heart with written words, many have been misled by what they read and some have build their personal ideologies upon hypothesis of writers. They have gotten the wrong notion for what could have turned their lives around, this is why writers need to be watchful of what they write.

Writing is a rare gift deposited in an individual by grace. Every person have a unique way of expressing themselves. You can learn to write or love to write; all wells down to writing.

Now as a Christian, what have you been using this beautiful skill for in the place of Christ?

We have heard testimonies of those who read a tract, a magazine, a pamphlet and it turned their lives around for good. It brought them to the altar that never fails. See, your writing is like a vessel in you.

You can use it to make Christ known. You can use it to encourage, to motivate, you can use it to touch hearts!

We all can still feel the importance of written words today. What if there were no written scrolls of what we now have as the Bible today?
We will hear the story, but it will be difficult passing it on to every generation.

Your writing speaks for you. What are you permitting it to say?

Will your next generation read from you and feel blessed that you once lived?

If your written work isn’t edifying, it is time to watch it and make amends.

Use it to draw men to God and not bring them to destruction.

Use it… But use it well!


Invisible Seeds

I’ve read books and heard a lot of stories of how people became very great because someone somewhere planted some seeds of greatness through words in them.

Words have birth awesomeness in many and it has also turned a lot to Genius and influential giants.

However, I’ve also heard stories of those whom negative words slowed down their pace in life; how it changed the face of their life and left them hanging in the middle of nowhere… And how it has turned many to wretched and poor people who see no worth in themselves.

Words are not something you should utter into people’s lives playfully. It is weighty, it is like a seed and it grows into its kind.

Don’t you think it’s necessary to give the words we speak to people around us a check?

You need to understand how your words affect the life of your friends, spouse and children.

Their lives are like fertile soil, ready to receive any seed, be it positive or negative… Encouraging or condemning… Motivating, inspirational or derogatory…

INVISIBLE SEED will help you to bridle your tongue, and to embrace speaking positive, encourage, instructive and motivating words to people around you.

Invisible Seed is authored by Aaron Fikayomi.

You can order for your copy, thankfully, it is an e-book; soft copy and it can easily get to you without much stress anywhere you are.

To get your copy, click on the link below. You will need to sign up before purchasing, but don’t you worry, creating an account takes less than a minute.

Or alternatively, you can make an order by paying 500naira/ about 2dollars to:

Aaron Elizabeth

Then, send a message to or send an SMS or whatsapp message to 08138298651 confirming your payment and your email address and the book is yours!

Invisible Seeds; words are what we have to remould our existence.

Get your copy today!

Practice What You Preach

Few days ago I was going through one of my manuscript (hopefully it will be published soon) I went through each chapter and each line took me back to the state I was while typing it out. I was writing out everything that I was inspired by the Spirit to practice.

When I was writing, I could boldly say “I am writing what I practice” but now reading it , I guess so much happened within a short while that threw me off balance.

I realized “It is easy to give advice, but how strong can we stand and abide by our words when faced with those same challenges?” I smiled and tried to move on to the next line, but emotions wouldn’t let me. I kept staring at my screen until I started ‘speaking the words and the determination to abide by it till it is made perfect’.

Seriously, if your advice, message, write ups, pod cast, et al can not inspire you, you need to go back to your drawing board to understand what you are really sketching.

Don’t just practice what you preach, also preach what you practice! There is no motivation as real as that.

First Love

When we first fell in love, we do all we can to keep the relationship alive and beaming.

From constant communication, to cherishing and caring for each other, the possibility of ending the love will seem like a nightmare.

But gradually, itches and challenges will come. You might experience distraction that will minimize the care and love to little. This might place a shaky ground for your relationship.

This is the same way our first love with Christ is.

So much passion, so much exhilaration, just so much that we give our all to be committed, but what happens when this love lingers on?

So many itches will come. Distraction will arise from all sides.

You will sometimes feel too tired or stressed out and the last thing on your mind will be communicating with the Father.

Gradually the love dies down. Unknown to you, the fire beaming passionately in you is dying down too.

The first love of many are fading away with the cares of life.

The once passionate brother/sister now have a million and one excuse to their coldness in Christ.

Like the parable of the sower, we now have many that are like the seed that fell among the thorns. They are beginning to get choked up by cares and distraction.

This is an awakening for you that might be in this shoe.

As you grow in Christ, your first love must always be fresh and alive for you.

Seek for the love to grow into an everlasting relationship with God.

Distract yourself from the distraction of the world through the Word.

Just like the way you still crave for your first experience of love, crave for the fresh and true revival of the Spirit everyday.


The Truth

Someone once said… “If you can’t point out any change in your spiritual life, you don’t need to change your Church or your God, all you need to do is to change the way you worship.”

While I’ll go with the later part of the quote above, I’ll say a big “NO” to the former part.

If you can’t see any change in your spiritual life, it is time for you to
change your Church.

If you don’t get to hear the true Word of God in your Church, leave the church. Run for your life!

If the fire igniting the passion within you is now smoking, check what you are being fed with in your Church.

So many congregations today are feeding on erroneous doctrines, half-backed truth, sugar-coated words that are void of the divine revelation of God.

Everyone is running to have a pulpit because they now see it as a means of business. It’s true the Word of God should reach the end of the earth, but false Teachers who are deceivers will increase also.

While we might try to blame spiritual laziness on self, a fire brand Church should ignite the fire within you.

Your Church should bring out the power of the one who brought you into His light to the World.

See, your Church has a great role in your spiritual growth.

By their fruits, you will know them.

Take your Church in, if what is being preached doesn’t align with God’s Word, speak to your legs and find a right place that will add to your life and not steal away from it.

Don’t forsake the fellowship of brethren, but always observe what goes on in the fellowship you’re about to cling to.

Get hold of the Word and know what it says. Don’t just be a pew warmer who takes in every hook and bait.

A Church is a place of edification. It is a place where you get to know the truth to the lies around you, if none of this is happening to you, stop managing the Church.

Seek for the truth and nothing less.


Gifted Hands

With hands tucked to my chest;
I always loathe my physique.
My mirror says “it’s no big deal”
But my frail heart hardened to consent.
“This wasn’t my plan” I’ll retort,
“It shouldn’t be this weak” I’ll brawl.
Frustration tossed me for so long,
Embittered by its gradual weakening;
“Not like I’m that daft”
But I’ll never be able to write again”
I’ll rant with a grin.
But one day I picked up my pen
My left hand was my workman.
It grafted in beautiful lines in my notes.
“I never knew I’m sinistral”
“Awesome” I exclaimed!
I Scribbled down every thought,
Set them free,
Made them real,
Believing someone will read and be healed.
This brought me solace.
Now I stare down at my hands,
Though frail and little they seem;
They now speak volumes and bliss.
They ain’t no weak hands;
But precious and gifted hands.

Spiritual Healing

I have a lot to be grateful for, but in a way, I feign blind to this grace upon my life.
Looking back at who I used to be, all the pain and hurts I had to endure, I think life is a bitch that just want to have a feel of you and leave you empty than it met you. I believe life is a place that doesn’t worth the stress and the next friend or family member should pay for the hurt with me lashing bitterly at them, but then I realize that “life worth more than the eyes betide. It’s not a roller coaster of fun, but it sure is a place filled with different experience to make us grow; that is, when we permit it.”

I look out at my brother who had a little of what I experienced. Just like me, he was braced in child domestic abuse for a year and I on the other hand lived almost seven years of my life in the chain of child domestic abuse. My life took a new turn, but my brother; I don’t really understand. This hurt seems to have eaten so much of his emotions and I must admit he acts irrationally sometimes.

Today I look back, and I’m more than thankful for going through a health challenge that humbled me. Though I was almost always in pain, like a woman contracting in labour, but it was a healing process for me.

When God ministered to me and said he was taking me through a process, I must admit I didn’t understand what process could come out of pain. “What sense is there in this complete non-sense? I queried God, but He was all quiet. I guess He knew what He had in store for me and He was looking forward to having a royal breed free from every weight of her past that will fit in for His good works. I wish my brother had to go through this process too.

Every type of hurt, needs healing. From spiritual to physical healing. It is only when the spirit is healed that the body can be in sound health. My family missed it. Or maybe they didn’t understand it… After every hurt, we need a therapy that should lead to healing else we will only seem to be happy for a while and then our hurt will feast on our emotions, and like cancer, it makes us deteriorate gradually.

I wish I could do more for my brother, but he feels he’s okay and doesn’t need help. He feels everyone is bothering him and he hates it when you try to dictate his life for him, but me think he’s not fine and needs help… A spiritual healing.

To you out there, you don’t have to wait till your bitter side begins to manifest before you seek for help. You were hurt! Come out and admit it!
You don’t have to hide in that coven and pretend everything is fine. No you’re not fine.

See, bitterness eats upon its host and sadly, the effects eats upon those around you. It feast on your loved ones and creates a distance only love can fill.

Were you hurt, broken, dismayed as a child or while growing up? Hey dear, you need to come out clean! Forgive them and forgive yourself.
See it as a necessary evil that was bound to happen even though I know and you know so well you didn’t deserve a tint of it.
What will be has already been. Don’t leave the hurt in and take it out on the innocent ones around you… Think about where you’re coming from and how you feel you didn’t deserve it, they don’t deserve it too.

Be of good courage.
It was meant to make you stronger and become a better YOU. Even make you be of help to someone out there struggling in the same shoes as yours.
Let it go and let the healing for your heart begin.

I love you!

It Made Me

Dear Challenge,

I know you are trying your best to stop me from breaking free. It seems you’re enjoying your stay but you know I’m tired of your stay already!

I don’t know how I got to meet you and of that I care less right now. You have messed with my life so much and made me weak to a fault. You took my joy and every opportunity to be like every normal child away. You made my life replete with so much grievous experiences.

What did I ever do wrong to deserve it? It shouldn’t have been me! I shouldn’t have been the one you’ll spot on, but all the same, I do not regret it. I feel bad for how you made me blame everyone about my predicament.

You so much blinded me from the truth that: I might as well be at fault too. But you know what? The scale fell off my eyes and I understand it better now. No one was at fault! Life had to happen, everything had to be and life had to go on. But you made me oblivious of this truth. You made me believe for a very long time that someone was at fault and if someone had not done this, it shouldn’t have been like that!

Oh mine oh mine! I was stupid and crazy for so long! Probably I’m still crazy but in a much reasonable way *scoffs*

The best part of my teenage years was stolen by you. You had it all to yourself and didn’t even see a need to share a little with me who owns the life. You are really wicked!

I must admit. I wouldn’t have felt it so much if you hadn’t taken my heart and the ability to love like I should away. I would have coped knowing that I still have that to myself, but you took that away too.

What did I do to deserve this? Why did you decide to make me frail beyond my imagination? What do you plan to gain from all these? Well, I care less because I understand life better now. The scale fell off! *laughs*

I’m tired and I’m rejecting you! I don’t want your company anymore! You have done me much bad than good. Your heavy blows left me with visible scars. I care less about the scars though, because I’ll be able to boldly say “this scar shows I’m a survivor and it’ll always show what great star I am!”

I’m saying it’s over today! I annul my relationship with you and I boldly say “enough is enough!”

My Visit To The Hospital

Being a girl with a rare bone disorder that leaves me imprisoned in my own skeleton, the best advice you will give me might be “go to the hospital often.” Yes, I do go to the Hospital often and that only started this May when I was choking with stomach pain after 5years of avoiding the Hospital.

My trip to the Hospital on Thursday was unexpected. My Doctor sent me a message to come over. They had a Specialist Surgeon around and I might love to see him. If I wish” my Doctor said. I told my Mum and she seemed more elated than me.

I know I could be weird and sometimes stoical, I didn’t show any signs of elation. “But this is an open door to finally get a treatment” I could read that on my Mum’s face. Well, she should feel like that. No true Mother will happily watch her child in pain.

I got to the Hospital and after the long wait, my Doctor invited me in and I saw this white and reddish faced man with a Canadian accent welcoming me in. I smiled and gave a bow as I turned down his offer to sit down “I can’t sit on anything that low” he looked surprised and I smiled briskly walking towards the bed in the room.

My Doctor went out to get some things and before he came back, question were rolling in from the reddish-white Doctor whom I regret not asking for his name. My Doctor came in right on time to intervene and he read out my history and background that I gave when I came around in May. He summarized results from my other visits and I was asked to lay down on the bed I leaned on.

The reddish-white Doctor checked my leg, my tommy and asked several questions and he was nice enough to help me pull down my clothes to cover my protruding stomach and hide it in the beautiful maternity shaped top I was wearing. I blushed as he helped me out of bed along side my Mum.

Mr Reddish-White sat down and took me in with my records in his hands. His lips gave way and he said that which I had been expecting “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk a surgery on her as the bone ossification has really progressed and it is not advisable.”
All the while he was speaking, my Doctor kept looking at me and my Mum. He was observing to see our reactions.

If there’s one thing I’ve been good at, it is hiding my emotions with a beautiful, contagious smile, but this time, it was more than hiding a feeling. It was me feeling so confident knowing that I’ve threaded that path before and I can’t feel moved as much.
“What if he knows I’ve been written off to die in 2004? To me, no report or feedback can be more devastating than that. Death is inevitable, but no one wants to know he/she is about to die and still stand head up to accept it. Not even suicide victims.” those were my thoughts as Doctor Babatunde, my lovely Doctor kept exchanging gaze between me and my Mum.

Yes, as I stepped out of the Doctors office, I almost felt bad that things had to turn out this way. This was not the way I planned my life as a child and these were not my aspirations as a Teen, but I’m 24 now and still stuck in the middle of nowhere because my joints are stiff and I’m gradually becoming immobile. But I smiled and a song filled my heart and poured out through my lips. A student Nurse on duty kept peeping to see this humming bird. I know she must feel sad for a girl with such a lovely voice but held back by physical challenges, but that was the least of my worries.

“I must get out of this and come back to this Hospital as a living testimony” were my thoughts as my Mum came back from the Cashier’s office to sit with me while I await my turn for a Laboratory test.

Life can pull us down, no doubts. It can kick us, thread upon us, mash us to the ground, but it can only overcome us when we refuse to get up as many times as we get knocked down.

I’m not going to lie that it’s hard. It’s hard! I mean, very hard and a hard nut to break knowing that you are on your feet and before you say Jack Robinson, you get knocked down again, but do you know each time you get up again it makes you stronger?

When Isaiah 48:10 said “you have refined me, but not with silver. You have chosen me from the furnace of affliction” Isaiah knew and understood what it means to be knocked down as many times as you get up and he understood the strength that comes with each rising up.

See, this strength comes from having an unflinching faith in God. Trusting Him in your weakness all the way. Seeing and knowing that God cares for you even when He seems far away and the heavens seems locked in against you.
Believing against all odds that: faithful is He who has promised and will not lie.

I believe the words in Psalms 118:17 and I’m leaving you with that to always reassure yourself even when all hope is lost that:
“You shall not die, but live to declare the goodness of the Lord.”

Hey there,
I believe you can survive against all odds and your trials today is for a sign and for wonders to every ear that will hear your story.

Keep hope alive!
Smile, it is a good way to live life.
It can only get better.


My Experience With The Church

I craved for the uplifting fellowship among brethren. I watch clips every now and then and see people with lifted hands. I see hungry souls, longing to fest on what the pulpit will offer for the day. I observe and I could see the joy in the Minister’s eyes as he beholds the congregation and gives his message, blessings and finally, the benediction.

A tear often playfully dance down my eyes and I sniff in like to control my lids from leaking further. My lids seems to adhere easily. It keeps to itself but begins a big fight in my mind.
“You have been here long enough. You need to join yourself to a congregation and enjoy this sweet sensation that seems to give you an orgasm.”

The struggle, fight and craving of my heart was high. Probably higher than Kilimanjaro and in the high spirit I typed “I want to go back to Church after eight years but I don’t know how to go about it. I love your Church but I’m bothered about my mobility.”

Like she’s been waiting for me to let out those words… She was more set than a goal keeper at the goal post “wow! I’m glad to hear that and I promise to see to it. I want that for you too.”
I blushed. I smiled. I felt fulfilled. My cravings is about to be satisfied through this friend.

I knew my family might kick against it, but I was less bothered. More reason I didn’t let out the thought to anyone even when it warred heavily within me.

Arrangements were made. How she did it I didn’t know. I only know her Pastor and his wife came around, all lovely with their kids. I wouldn’t have asked for more. The first decision I ever made without carrying anyone along is about to become a reality. What more could I have asked for. “It will propel me to take more steps and make more decision single-handedly” so I thought.

Mummy had her criticism. “People will look at you and start with their pity-party” she spoke her mind. I knew she wasn’t in support.
“I don’t mind anymore. I’ve been here long enough.” I was so confident and my words surprised even me.

A week became two and the third week, everything was set! I went to Church! A Tuesday evening service. A Bible study!

Mummy had this frown when I was been carried into the car that boldly said “this is one of the stress you refused to consider when you made your senseless decision.” I ignored her. I ignored everyone passing by and I got to Church only to realize I’ll be handed over to another Pastor I’ve always seen passing by my house that I never knew could be a Pastor.

Bible study was fine and they prayed for me after the service. Oh I miss this prayer life in the Church!

The Pastor that brought me to Church was back to pick me and himself and his wife were patiently waiting outside. Now I’m in care of two Pastors. Both wives seem to be loving. They helped me through the steep paths and assisted me into the car which literally means: they carried me like a baby into the car.”

On our way home they told me my chair was already there and it wouldn’t make much sense carrying the chair away from there. “They are good people and I’ve talked to them about you” Pastor and his wife encouraged me, but all the while what kept ringing in my mind was “I told mummy not to tell my brothers to take the chair there. I didn’t know the Church they were heading, not like I knew anywhere either but I warned her to wait for the Pastor before taking the chair anywhere. Now I will be under someone else.”

The sight of my house, where I also call my prison house jeered me back from my thoughts. Mummy was all smiling seeing the car. Big sis and her kids were outside and Pastor asked if I knew my big sister. I smiled and told him who she is to me and funny enough, Pastor and big sister knows each other too well. I thanked them and left them with my big sister has I made my way inside, leaving them to catch up with each other.

Mummy asked how the service went and I made her realize I couldn’t have asked for more. She seems happy, same with me too. Who wouldn’t be satisfied after a craving desire is fulfilled? Well, maybe those who attempts suicide and succeed. I don’t know what satisfaction they derive.

Plans were made and I had to get some clothes. I had clothes, but they were all indoor wears, none of fitting for outdoor activities except the one I wore to Church that Tuesday and the one I just got thinking I’ll be attending my brother’s wedding.

Life is always filled with surprises for everyone. I never knew I would go to Church this year. Every signal in my body boldly says “it’s impossible!” but here I am sitting with brethren listening with rapt attention to the sermon. It wasn’t as moving or great as I had envisaged, but at least I’m there and it can only get better. Maybe. Just maybe.


I couldn’t cope with mid-week service, so I vouched for Sunday service alone. During the process of going back to Church, I had gone back to the hospital too. “Enough of staying indoors” was the mojo that propelled me.

I went to Church the next Sunday and the next after that, but my hospital visit a Thursday to my fourth Sunday in Church was stressful. It took a while to recover from the stress and to stand back on my feet took a while. I called in that I won’t be in Church that Sunday. Why stress them to come over on a Sunday morning when I know I won’t be able to follow them to Church? They agreed and came around to pray for me after the service.

My supposed fourth Sunday in Church was cancelled and I looked forward to the fifth Sunday. I had called on Saturday that they can come over to pick me, I’m strong enough. But Sunday upon Sundays and many more Sundays till date, I haven’t seen them. I see the Pastors I was handed over to, always passing by my house every time and it seems I didn’t deserve even a “Hello” from both couple. I felt dejected! That’s an understatement though, I felt worse than dejected. I felt anything terrible than dejection and it played a great role on my mind and in my walk of faith. I collapsed on the path!

I couldn’t walk out of this path of faith ’cause I know how sweet it is, but my feet was stuck to my heels, I couldn’t move.

“What Church rejects people due to their inadequacies?” I queried myself, but before assuming and concluding on this mirage, I sent the Pastor who handed me over a message and he was so sorry, but couldn’t do much about it. ‘I was already in another Church and it might create much hush tones that he won’t be comfortable with’ my thoughts though, because he only kept saying “it is well!” It can only be well though.

Myself and the first Pastor do chat often; more like everyday, but I’m yet to see the Pastor I was handed over to. I understand he doesn’t have an internet accessible phone, but a simple “Hello” would have done a lot of magic on my Phleg-Mel mind.

It’s over now, but what notion did this experience create on my mind? “I now see the Church as a place where only the wealthy and healthy are welcomed.”

How true can this be? “I experienced a total dejection from a Church that serves as a parish to one of the big Names in Nigeria Church history. But I still have my objection though, “I haven’t tried every Church and or parish, so I won’t conclude and that won’t stop me from loving the Church when all these is over. ”

The Church is a place for solace and love, plus attention, but the way some congregation place Christianity as a place for the PERFECT ONLY is uncalled for.
That poor man that just walked into your Church might be the next big thing in the world that just needs an uplift in faith and probably a little support to start with.

That woman being wheeled in every Sunday might be the next success story. Her testimony might lead many to Christ. Her healing might delay, but in the process, make every other member of the Church strong in faith.

My experience in the Church almost made me conclude I’ll never have anything to do with the Church again even when I’m healthy enough to walk into any Church of my choice, but what sense will it make?

If your Church isn’t impacting you, speak to your legs and find another Church. It is not a sin to change your Church.
“Many are called, but few are chosen.” Understand your Church leader and see the fruit in him/her, if it doesn’t glorify God, it’s time to make a move… But true it all, never forsake the fellowship of brethren and have a faith filled heart controlled by Christ even as you serve and walk with Christ daily.