Conclave

By Yohanna Michaels

Full of poetry and songs, Conclave follows the simple everyday events of two neighboring families as they deal with life’s struggles and the workings of their faith. This story tracks their ordinary lives, following their extraordinary journey through life at a time it seemed dark and difficult and as they go through their day to day happenings, challenges, conflicts and victories.
Dealing with ups and downs, life in their marriages, relationships, society and friends, both the Christians and the DeFirsts are drawn to a close friendship with each other, and together, they tackle on the issues of life.
It is a story of God’s grace, of courage, helplessness, comedy, strength in God, faith, hope, love and a dash of mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yohanna Michaels
• Release date: Oct 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310685804

Yohanna Michaels

Yohanna Michaels is just a father, singer, song writer, poet and author. He was born as Uchechukwu Umunna to an African couple. He has four elder brothers.

Book preview

CONCLAVE

By

Yohanna Michaels

DEDICATION

To Y’H’W’H, The Almighty.

I could not have done this without You.

Come to think of it, I wouldn’t even be, without You.

Speaking of being

To my parents

You did a pretty darn good job, me-thinks, but I guess no one is asking, right?

To my other numerous parents

Best supporting cast ever!

Speaking of sub-cast

Miriam Ruth Umunna

You put the Shine to my Sunshine.

Speaking of light

My numerous friends who have stood by me; a lighthouse full of pillars to lean on.

AKNOWLEDGMENTS

Oh, how do I begin to pretend that I could enumerate the massive help I have been blessed with in the course of my life and writing this book?

To;

Susan (Mother) Johnston, Rev. & Mrs. J.A Anyanwu, Bruno & Dele Uzosike, Chief & Lolo Mrs. O.G Ochor

Pastor & Mrs. M.S Mohnkern, Fred & Nandir Williams, Mama G (Gyang-Gyang), Denny Williams

Bola & Aimee Adebisi

To;

The Late Pastor Rufus Landir

Late Mrs. Puele Landir

Late Mr. Joseph Johnston

Late Miss Kate Katas

To Bud Reedy, Shaun & Christine Seibert, Ayo Akinmade, David Brown, Chigozie Oji, Tose Irabor Umobuarie, Gabriel Mohmmoh, Focus on the Family, Victor Enejoh, Bob Oji, Rotimi Akinmade, Audu Maikori

To FLEM (you know all yourselves)

HOTR Jos

StillMeadow Church of the Nazarene, York, PA

To all the children in my life

To all my Brothers

I do not presume to have the capability to mention everyone whose touch has helped, in one way or another, to birth this work. So, I will mention you all in one blanket of heartfelt gratitude saying

Thanks so much to you all.

Avant-nous!

PRAISE

BOOK ONE

In the beginning there was Life

The Life was the Light of men

But some lived in darkness still

Even way back when.

Then, there was an event

Changing everything openly

No better way to tell it

But to say there was a Suddenly…

BARNYARD PRAISE

The cockerel crows at the very crack of dawn. Glory to God in the Highest who causes the sun to rise in the morning and set at evenings tide. Peace to men, His wrath is stayed and Grace abounds to all.

Shaking off all inhibitions against a strange and brand new world, a little colt, born in the early hours of the night, runs free from the barn and into the fields. His proud mother trots out after him and neighs a loud praise to their Heavenly Maker. Her big, black, visually overpowering stallion storms out into the open space of the fields, very much hardly able to contain his overwhelming joy at the sight of his little colt galloping happily in the wide open air. He runs past his baby horse in a manner of saying Son, let me show you how it’s done. They are such a proud family. The father horse rises on his hind muscle bound legs and raises his voice

Hallelujah!

A bald headed vulture perched up in a tree and there, bemoans his dry and weary bones. He blinks his eyes and looks from his left all the way to his right and finds that once again, none of the animals had suffered an unfortunate event that could benefit him. Certainly not even a sickly chicken. Frustrated and starving, he spreads his wings, stretching; he bows his head in humiliation. He climbed into the air and circled the farm in one last sweep hoping something would turn up then headed into the neighboring farm to better his odds for an overdue breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even a snack at best, would do.

Though a mother hen felt slightly intimidated, she leads her chicks out into the yard to feed. A beautiful, grayish-black sparrow flew really low in a bout of expert flying and perched by the stack of firewood. The cows slowly gathered at the haystacks and the big, brown bull, chosen leader of the herd, lifts his voice to pray.

We give you thanks… said he as he raised his horns to heaven and mooed very loudly …oh Lord, God of our salvation, our Mighty Prince of Peace and Lord of all Creation. We give you thanks, you who provide for the sparrow and clothe the flower fields with magnificent colors. There truly is no one else like you. As the cows began to feed quietly on the hay and the day grew warmer, the sparrow sang.

His eye is on the sparrow

Bless His Precious Name

His eye is on the sparrow

He flew high into the sky. He twists around like a kite and drops low at a neck-bending angle towards the fields. As he barely hits the grass with his feet, he spun around like a baseball in flight and shoots up, rising once more into the dawning skies. He did his dance of gratitude once and again to the astonishment of the sheep already out in the fields.

They cried Blessed is the Lord, so worthy of all praise and dance and in joyful song

Inside the farmhouse, McDonald craned his ears to listen. He had just gotten off his knees where he had been praying with his wife. He always said God blessed him with her when he could hardly find his way through life on his own. She had become his lighthouse guiding him safely to shore, an anchor grounding him in calm waters against the marshes and quagmires of a futile existence.

She was only twenty-six years old and he was a thirty-three year old, head-over-heels in love, country boy. As far as he was concerned, life began at forty anyway, so, yes, he considers himself a boy even at thirty- something.

To him, it was like he had won a lottery and life has been rich for him since, one huge adventure in loving God and loving others.

Today, like any other day, the animals were loud and excited.

Doesn’t it seem like the animals are singing out there?

I don’t know what you mean, Mac. She said leaving the room.

McDonalds mind recalled a quote he had learnt as a child and he smiles.

All of Creation sings your praise, oh Lord. I hear them singing to you.

Wouldn’t it be fun if they could speak? She said as she carried out yesterday’s laundry from the laundry room into the bedroom and settles down to fold and put them away. It would be so cool to understand what they say to each other… and as an afterthought, she said …or would that be weird?

He smiles at her. She is such a dear. She always had a way of making the slightest things so full of color and adventure in her own adorable little way.

Whatever! I join the throng. Worthy are you Lord.

She turns back her imaginary dancing hat, bounces off the bed, he takes her hand and they dance joyfully to their God.

Many acres away, Mr. Adam DeFirst looks out of his window towards the McDonalds and scoffs bitterly while he stroked his pet fox’s head. He snarled at an unseen foe far away as the light of the rising sun tore suddenly in through his window spread and brightly in his eyes.

Leave it to the Christians to kick up a blatantly boisterous raucous early in the morning.

Mr. DeFirst despised the Christians living next door.

Of all the people, it had to be those happy, feely people.

He had thought things would have worked out differently when he bought the land next to theirs and built his ranch. But life had laughed him in the face and handed him these lemons for his seeds of oranges.

Foxy, the pet fox was not too excited about the neighbors either. Last night, he and Raven, the simple raven had watched as Mama, the pregnant horse went into labor and gave birth to a colt. Big Daddy Etch was pacing back and forth pretending not to be anxious.

I hope they have a Foal Raven muttered bitterly under his breath.

If you are trying to wish them ill, that would hardly do the job, Raven. Foxy said. Besides, I believe the word you are looking for would be Fowl.

Yeah, that’s what I said.

Nope Foxy pressed. "You said Foal but you meant to say Fowl. Didn’t ya?"

What’s the difference?

Foxy sighed heavily. A foal is a baby horse, ya Dumdum. Besides, it is biologically impossible for the Etches to have a fowl. It goes against all laws of nature.

It baffles Foxy how the Etches could pull it off. Life outside the law was virtually impossible. How they could achieve it on Praise Yard was quite the mystery, a feat apparently only possible there alone. Even the sun seems to glow magnificently over there. He growled. If, perhaps DeFirst could buy us some rights under the law of Grace, we would not be so miserable. Although they had the choicest of foods, they still looked malnourished. It appeared as if nothing was working for their good beneath their Farmville look-alike-Green Ranch.

On the night before, on Mr. Christian’s farm, Mrs. Etch gave birth to their pincushion-looking bundle of muscle.

Now, we can all go to bed McDonald had said.

It had been quite the long, laborious night. Everyone was graciously rewarded with a few hours of shut-eye before sunrise. He had just about enough time to go back to bed, snuggle up to his precious wife, nap a while, wake, pray and start his day. Now, he has to tend to the business of the day.

He was now wide awake and putting out food for the animals. The goats ran up to him as he made his approach carrying a pail of wheat which he poured out; their morning treat that they shared every morning with the chickens.

Good old-Mac chuckled and said Good morning to you too as he walked away to attend to other animals of the farm. He opened the doors for them to go out in the yard and graze while he settles into milking Betsy, the Australian cow. Breaking into song, he sang.

You said let there be Light

The Light of the earth was born

The darkness does not understand.

It fades at the touch of Your hand

You meant to bring peace

The Prince of Peace was born

Strife with You went away, far away

The works of Your hands are wonderful

You’re our Counselor

You set the boundaries for the seas

You speak

Your words give Life

We stand with arms lifted high to You

Your Love gives us Life

Your