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

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Picture and sculpture by Angela Johnson


The Mother’s Nature.

A proverb celebrating mothers.

Of Ephraim.

Whose joys recreate the climaxes of the mountain?
And whose love reaches the depths of the ocean floor?
What is whiter than snow?
And what is more fearsome than the roar of the lion,
Or as beautiful as the iris of the storm?
Whose intricacy likens that of an arachnid’s web,
And the burning intensity of the sun,
Yet boasts the cool poise of the moon?

She is a worthy confidant to her husband,
And he values her counsel.
Only the Lord keeps her children,
Her presence is an appeasement to their hearts,
Her smile a delight to their souls.
To be made in her image is a privilege
To be her splitting image a blessing twofold.

But what loves more than the heart of a mother?
And what is as delicate as her gentle, hardworking hand?
Her loving embrace is like the shade of an oak tree.
The leaves bow before her majesty,
The wind whistles fables of her greatness,
As the clouds make way to bless her handiwork.
At dawn the birds of the air chirp and adore her,
At dusk the stars of the heavens spell out her name.

It is at conception she reaches the peak of the mount.
Even when I was lost in the deep her prayerful hand found me.
It is her forgiving heart that is as white as snow,
Her relentless passion that scares away the lion,
It is she that is more beautiful than the eye of storm.
Her fervent ambition is like the sun,
Her calm like the moon,
Her elegance like a ripe apple,
To find such like her is fruitless.

E. K

“Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:30‬

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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


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Lovesick 2.

An introduction to my new YouTube channel!


This is my creative mind within my creative God!

“Lovesick” is a poem that is close to my heart because of how it simply encapsulates all my creative pursuits:
That in every single pursuit, my constant cry will be the desire (for all) to know Him. John 17:3 “And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.”

Please like, comment, subscribe on the channel, there is much more unique content on the way!

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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

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There are points in a dialogue where it must become a monologue.


“There is a time to be silent and a time to speak.” (Ecclesiastes 3:7b)

We all scream that we have a relationship with God but do we give ear to hear what He has to say?

Or is our time with God all about us?

Amongst the noise of our praise, thanksgiving, worries and anxieties, He is always willing to speak to us – but too many times we speak (pray/worship/read) and leave it at that.

Yes, we enter into His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise (Psalm 100:4), but there is a time for all things as the author of Ecclesiastes says “There is a time to be silent and a time to speak.”

Prayer is like this too. It is simply conversation with God. There are times to speak and times we must be silent. Give time to hear Him.
Wait on Him as the psalmist David says. He will speak.




Help me to wait on You.

Teach me to hear Your voice.

Knead my heart to be

Attentive to Your voice,

Retentive to Your voice

And subjective to Your voice.

In Jesus’ lovely and wonderful name,


“Wait for and confidently expect the LORD; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for and confidently expect the LORD.”

‭‭PSALM‬ ‭27:14‬ ‭AMP‬‬

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.”

‭John‬ ‭10:27‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

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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.


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Ephraim Kihondo


Parable of the Two Helpers.

Of Ephraim.
What sweetens your tooth and what entices your tongue?
A parable for the end times.

Listen child.
Close your eyes
And incline your ears.
This is a tale of two helpers
Both kind to their causes,
Both warm to their own clauses.

Consider the first,
(His clause saying take),
Short in stature
But intimidating in tone
Nevertheless, he always gives you all you desire:
Sweets your parents always forbade you from,
Toys uncles told you you did not need
And garments friends told you were too expensive.
He gives it all.

Now consider the second,
(His clause saying come),
Meek in nature,
Tall in height –
So tall my neck bends back in awe –
His face too bright for even the Sun to see.
His voice an irresistible enticement
His present containing far beyond what I need,
Filling me up till His wants become mine.

Now, search your heart child
And pose yourself this question:
What has been sweetening your tongue,
The forbidden fruit
Or the fruit of the Spirit?
Do you feast on the cursed fig tree
Or the Tree of Life?
Are you a child of gluttony
Or a child of wholeness?
Only one helps satisfy the soul,
Only one helps kill the flesh, child.
Choose wisely,
For the LORD is coming.


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“No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.”
Matthew 6:24


Parable of the Two Lakes.

A parable for the end times.
Of Ephraim.

Thus the voice of the LORD depicted to me on the sixth day of the tenth month of the year of the open heavens – to I, Ephraim, a soldier for Christ:

Deeper into this garden of my heart
Lay two lakes
At the end of the path
That forks in two;
Both paths narrow, hardly ridden or stepped foot upon.
One lake in all its beauty
With a towering willow tree
At its centre,
The nucleus and the heart
The lure and invitation of every beautiful mammal
Named under the Sun.
Life is easy,
Life is good,
Life is what I want it to be
Under this tree.

Consider now the second lake,
It too at its centre with a tree.
It has not the roars
And the hustle and bustle of the
Many mammals of the other lake
It has not the same shine of the Sun
Glaring down upon it
But it possesses a different light
That many do not recognise
And hidden upon its tree is
Never before seen fruit of colours
Even the rainbow cannot name
Nor does its waters cry out –
Only stillness is here.

Now brethren,
I ask you solely this:
Which lake and which tree will
The dove choose to lay and rest?
The beauty of the first
Or the stillness of the second?
Both are good, but which is of God?
“None” some say
“One” others say

But it is the second where it will lay;
Silent, serene and sound of mind
Where it can ponder on its day
And observe the paces of the enemy.
Rest is where the souls of the righteous lie
Still is what the LORD’s people say.

Like I said;
Both of these paths are narrow
Both of these paths are rarely traversed.
You have done well to come thus far
But after the fork of this road,
Question yourself and ask
Which path are you on?
Does The Dove find home on your tree?
Or are you too absorbed by the noise of beauty?
Signs and wonders will follow us both – beautiful
But only the pure in heart will see Him.
Choose wisely child
He is beckoning and will soon return.

The number of His people are dwindling.


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So he brought the people down to the water. And the LORD said to Gideon, “Everyone who laps from the water with his tongue, as a dog laps, you shall set apart by himself; likewise everyone who gets down on his knees to drink.”
And the number of those who lapped, putting their hand to their mouth, was three hundred men; but all the rest of the people who got down on their knees to drink water.
Then the LORD said to Gideon, “By the three hundred men who lapped I will save you, and deliver the Midianites into your hand. Let all the other people go, every man to his own place.”
Judges 7:5-7

The number of His people are dwindling.


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.


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“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?