Sunrise’s Serenade.

eternal love.
a psalm of Ephraim.

I was postered by four impregnable walls –

Sin, law, death and my mind,

And indeed your love is a consuming fire

That singed the former three walls to cinders

And refined, renewed and restored my mind

To behold your love, your face for what it truly is,

A love without corners or circumference!

You are my everlasting sunrise!

You have made my night a distant nightmare

And eradicated my fears with Your light.

If darkness were cockroaches,

You banished them far away from me 

With Your light.

Darkness did not prevail against you.

Instead you spoke light into my dark,

Life into my dead heart,

So from that day,

No wall could ever stand between us,

You made sure you gave me a heart

With your own signature mark.

And from that day 

The love song to me never stopped,

You serenade me at daybreak, 

All through the day and at noon!

You promised me that this love is to here to stay.

I believed you and I received all of you,

Now this is our everlasting honeymoon.

YouTube |
Painting: “Smile of the Sunrise” Marie Green

Subscribe via email in the menu to receive notifications for every new Songs of Ephraim post!


Prisoner of Hope.

Hope in the place of hopelessness.
A psalm. Of Ephraim.

Was this not the path of my freedom?

Surely, this was the path of liberty?

Yet I am shackled to my pains

Braced with my burdens

And crushed of my cares.

LORD where are you?

The only water I have consumed in this desert has been my tears

And even they are broken

And divi-
amongst each other –

They fall like sha-
ttered glass –

One for joy

Two in hope

And three in sorrow.

Each tear falling like a drop of blood

And in each shattered tear

I see the reflection of my Saviour’s last days in the garden.

My cohorts have morphed into my enemies

My modes of transport have turned on me

Even my feet are beginning to fail me

I have nothing but hope to hold onto

I have only my hope to hold onto

You are all my hands can hold onto!

Sand sifts through my brittle palms and fingers

Sand drowns my ankles in miniature volcanoes

Sand burns the soles of my feet till they are as black as the iris of my eyes

My eyes see no hope –

Except when they are too tired to see no hope.

God stamp eternity on my eyeballs!

Let me see the future with eyes of hope!

Let me taste the joy of Your presence!

Let me feel the embrace Your loving person!

For I trusted man and he disappointed me.

I trusted mammon and she failed me also.

But I trusted in the LORD Almighty,

And He never failed me,

So for Him alone I have become a prisoner of hope.

This is a prison

I never wish to leave.

This is my hope in the place of hopelessness.


“Return to the stronghold,
You prisoners of hope,
Even today I declare
That I will restore double to you.”
Zechariah 9:12

YouTube |
Instagram |
Twitter |

Subscribe via email in the menu to receive notifications for every new post!


The Oil Press.

Cries from the garden of the oil press.
A psalm. Of Ephraim.

LORD why can I do nothing right?

For my mistakes have become the pupils of my eyes

And my flaws are irremovable watermarks on all of my mirrors.

LORD why can I do nothing right?

Is it I holding back Your will,

Is it I at fault,

Is it I not feeling how You feel?

LORD why can I do nothing right?

My frustrations are alight all through the night

They are aloud all through the day

They are high and lifted just like a kite

That won’t come down

They just won’t come down

These frustrations are a ferocious sound

They are never ending and abound

In my throat they are rigid nouns;

I am tired

I am seasick

Take me off of these waters

Bring me ashore from these waters

My toes yearn for solid ground

My head beats for air all around

My body is failing me!

O LORD my God why am I so down?

O LORD my God where art thou in my darkest hour?

O LORD my God when will you fix my frown?

Put an end to this tussle of my organs

Pull the end to the flight of this dark kite

Push this darkness away from I and

Lead me to our garden in haste

Bring me to our chambers at once

Because Your face

Is all I need in this chase

Because Your face

Is my sustenance in this race.

For I am a man limp without You

You are my rod in the day

And my pillow at dusk.

I am in perpetual need of You

For You have asked for all of me

To be all dependent upon You

So I have given you all of myself

Just as You gave me all of Yourself…

Wholly and all for me.


“And being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”

‭‭Luke‬ ‭22:44‬

YouTube |
Instagram |
Twitter |

Subscribe via email in the menu to receive notifications for every new post!

Picture and sculpture by Angela Johnson


Musings of March.

March Madness.
A psalm of Ephraim.

Is there very much

Or even plenty to be joyous about?

Yea, I live

And yea, I have breath!

But what is joy outside of His presence?

And what is joy outside of Him?

How can I smile without Him

And how can I smile without thought of Him?

For just as a newborn baby yearns for it’s mother

So my soul yearns for His person.

Away from Him

I am a goldfish on sand

And an eagle in water:

Outside of my habitat,

Where all of my sense and senses are rendered flat.

O how I love Him,

But O how I can never love Him enough!

What can I, a limited man, do
To please a limitless God?

And what words can a man say

To the One who formulated words within his very mouth?

For my heart is in pieces

Yet He comes to puzzle them all together.

And He reads my heart

Even when I have closed its book to Him.

When I let Him fend for me,

I allow Him to mend all of me.

And when I open up all of me to Him

I let in all of Him inside of me.

He has broken me

To make use of me.

And He has use for me

And thus He has made room for me.

I had a hole in my heart

And He had the key to it.

E. K

“The LORD is near to those who have a broken heart,
And saves such as have a contrite spirit.”
Psalm 34:18


YouTube |
Instagram |
Twitter |

Subscribe via email in the menu to receive notifications for every new post!



A Taste of Sand.


A psalm.

The Sculptor’s lesson to me in my sculpting season.

Food has lost its taste

And drink has washed down my loneliness.

Dread has become my sun

And my heart a well of sand.

If I had had it my own way

I would have her in my stay

And if I had my way

My flesh would not be in dismay.

Yet in my life

His Word has the final say,

Yet in my life

My love for Him

Goes beyond all others on the way.

My love to Him weighs more than all else

At the end of the day.


I have decided that

Obedience is my best form of sacrifice

And that my obedience will be all that will suffice.

And though obedience hurts

I know that disobedience kills.

And that this taste of sand

Will be the prelude to my milk and honey.

This taste of sand

A remembrance, a reminder

Of the day I turned to the Saviour.

It was all for Him.

By the Loved, to the Lover.


“And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it again into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make.”

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭18:4‬

“So Samuel said: “Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, As in obeying the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, And to heed than the fat of rams.”

‭‭I Samuel‬ ‭15:22‬

Subscribe to my YouTube channel:


Content of the visionary out soon:



For a while, something was wrong, something just not right.
And the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got.
I would spend time with Him and yet afterwards it would never feel like enough – the hours would feel like mere seconds and every passing minute without Him felt like an eternity bygone.
I was lovesick and my only antidote was to have all of Him and be with Him.

Of Ephraim. A Psalm.

My heart is heavy and pines for Him.

The iris of my heart tosses and tumbles out of focus

When I am away from the Lover and maker of my heart.

For with His tender touch and His hand of grace,

He quickly chips and chisels away at the infirmities of life that have collected on my heart like dust on this narrow road.

O how my heart skips a beat at the thought of the Lover.

O how He quenches my every thirst when I open up the curtains of my heart to His knocking.

O how my answer to His knocking is my emptying before His feet.

Taste and see how sweet the air of His robes of righteousness are

And how soft the garments of His bearings are to my cheeks

O how lovely His whisper is to my ear

And O how capturing His gaze into my gaze of Him is.

I have left all the burdens of my shoulders before Him

And He has swatted away and reduced them all to peace.

So all that remains is

His love that first loved me

And now my love for Him who loved me first.

I was and am lovesick.


“Sustain me with cakes of raisins,
Refresh me with apples,
For I am lovesick.”

Song of Solomon 2:5

How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the things of this world.


Twitter & Instagram:
Ephraim Kihondo


Blossoming Breakthrough.

Of Ephraim.

The song of the plowing season.

“If you cannot affect a situation physically, seek to affect it spiritually” – Alexander McLean

LORD my skin is parched like

Waning soil in a famine.

My roots appear lost, non existent

Were they ever existent?

This seed that once promised much

Now promises nothing much over little.

But is a closed promise

Not a closed faith to the Promiser?

I will keep tilling the ground

In wait of this new spring.

Only then suddenly,

A new thing blooms

In the midst of adversity

In the midst of the famine

In the midst of doubt.

The out of season,

Unexplainable, improbable

Divine provision.

This seed beat all the odds,

This seed defied the norms

This seed settled the scores;

For as long as this tree towers tall above the rest,

The LORD is the King on the throne.


Twitter & Instagram:


“Then He said, “To what shall we liken the kingdom of God? Or with what parable shall we picture it? It is like a mustard seed which, when it is sown on the ground, is smaller than all the seeds on earth; but when it is sown, it grows up and becomes greater than all herbs, and shoots out large branches, so that the birds of the air may nest under its shade.”” Mark‬ ‭4:30-32‬

His whole Kingdom is rooted upon the principle of supernatural growth. Will you trust in His process?


The Lost Sheep.

Of Ephraim.

I am the lost sheep.

The black amongst the white,

The one out of the ninety-nine,

The prodigal son.

Unworthy yet welcomed.

Once a sinner but now a saint.

Lost yet now found.

My own feet led me to the brink of despair

But His hand led me to pastures green.

It is His outstretched hand

That saved me from the Pit of Hades.

It is His rod of sustenance,

That is my reminder of His mercy for me.

He has taken me thus far,

And promises me further beyond the horizon.

Though the trail may be rough,

Though the path may be tough;

Take His hand, child

And clasp onto it.

His hand will be your shelter,

He will guide you every step of the Way –

Through the waters

And the coals of fire –

He is the Way to the land of milk and honey.


“I am the Good Shepherd; and I know My sheep, and am known by My own.”

John 10:14

Twitter & Instagram: SongsOfEphraim


The Heir’s Helmet.

A Psalm of Ephraim.

“To be aligned with Christ is to be aligned with His heart. To be aligned with His heart is to be aligned with His will.” E.K.

Blessed is He who hears the formulation of our thoughts toward Him.
Blessed is the Lord for His mercies never run dry.


Align me Father!
When my feet are not cemented in your will.
Loose me from my folly,
Chasten me when my wisdom overtakes yours.
For now I stand on your Word,
I stand tall in your promises.
On the cliff overlooking the battle,
I shall not fear,
For you keep my weapons sharp
And my armour ashine.
And I will take up my crown,
My helmet,
My identity in you.


“But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name: who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” John 1:12-13


Blinding Lights.

A Psalm of Ephraim.

“Revive our gaze upon Your face and expose the things that have taken Your place”

– Eric Gilmour

Behold the one who cannot be mentioned in the same breath as man.
The angels continuously cry “Holy, Holy” at the mere look of His shadow
For His true light blinds the eyes of all who gaze at Him.
Lo! The lamb whose wool never greys
His radiance illuminates the sun itself!

Worthy is He to be praised!

“One thing I have desired of the LORD, That will I seek: That I may dwell in the house of the LORD All the days of my life, To behold the beauty of the LORD, And to inquire in His temple.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭27:4‬ ‭NKJV‬‬