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One year... just like that.

It’s hard to believe how quickly it’s gone and truthfully, it’s only felt so fast, so full, so exhilarating because of you. Every visit, every smile, every moment you’ve shared with us has shaped this journey into something we could have only dreamed of.

Dartford, you didn’t just support us you became part of our story.

Tomorrow, we celebrate one whole year since we opened our doors, and step into a brand new chapter... together. And it wouldn’t mean anything without you by our side.

We’d love for you to come and celebrate with us to relive the memories, feel the energy, and be part of everything that’s still to come.

This is your journey as much as it is ours. And we’re just getting started.

🎥 @davidsanyaa @ozait_elldder

Rock. Paper. Scissors.

Back in the bakery.
Where the Rock is Christ,

paper finds the frame,
and the scissors makes the cut.

Day one of thirty.
No rigid plan, just instinct, motion, and the quiet rhythm of creating again.

I’ll be stepping into this with some incredible people along the way, composing moments as they come.

A fresh start.
One frame, one cut, one day at a time.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 010: Baby Jesus was doing birthday

As per family members and heirs of his will, we responded appropriately.

So we stretched the celebration across December 2025, respectfully and without apology.

In many forms. Across different ramifications.
Conversations were tabled, some boldly in front of the plate,
others happening behind it, beneath it, and occasionally nowhere near food at all.

2025 showed up generously.
Ideas were served, scenes were curated, moments were arranged with intention and a bit of mischief.

It was a year of talking, building, observing sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing glances.

Now 2026 approaches with quiet confidence.
We’re arriving lighter, sharper, and visually louder.

This is just a New Year update
I’ll leave this here, then return to hiding with the art. 🫣🎨

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 009 : Beauty in the eyes of the beholder with Artist & Painter Tonye

December 20, 2025

Art learns to breathe in the quiet.
Light holds it gently,
and in the stillness of the studio,
it becomes itself.

Love,
David Sanya

#shotoniphone

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 008: Delay Is Not Rejection

August, 08 2025

Cast your cares — not from trembling hands,
Not flung in fear of what may stand,
But laid, like petals, at His feet,
Where time and mercy gently meet.

For He who holds the waiting years
Counts every sigh and gathers tears.
Delay is not a locked-up gate,
But love’s own whisper: Wait.

Not every pause is Heaven’s “No,”
Sometimes the seed must sleep to grow.
So rest , not frantic, but aware:
He careth, so you need not despair.

Cast your cares, not out of fright,
But in the calm of Perfect love,
For it casts out fear - even in the delays.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 007: The Burden is Light

November 06, 2025

The ember months whisper — slow down,
take a chill pill,
Remember how you started.

The Christ mind calls you inward
A gentle self-examination
a reminder that we are all members of His rest,
where burdens lift and peace feels like breath.

Happy new month
The burden was never yours to bear.
We were fashioned for surrender,
designed to lean,
created to find rest in the rhythm of His grace. 🌿

Love,
David Sanya

Hey guess what… 👀

We’ve got some exciting news this week at our New Cross venue, stay tuned for all the exciting surprises this week.

WALK-INS OR BOOK ONLINE

reservations@papisgrill.co.uk
02035857501
338 NEW CROSS ROAD
LONDON SE14 6AG

🎥 @popdank @ozait_elldder

#PGNEWCROSS #londonrestaurants #londoneats #papisgrill #foodie #winterfood #grilledfood #afrofusion

The Journal 006 : The Art of Being Still

August 08,2025

The art of being still
I thought I knew it
until I had a date with the Holy Spirit,
the Master, the Patient Artist,
a Promise whispered from the Father.

Fashioned like the rest,
the One the Hebrew church sought after,
cloaked in mystery,
yet nearer than breath.

We solemnly seek,
as Peace broods over the waters of our hearts
in stillness,
in sacred hush,
where Spirit paints silence
with the colors of heaven.

What is stillness,
if not God leaning in?

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 005: Ghosted August 🌿✨

August 01, 2025

Quiet every noise that seeks to drown the beams of my heart. Silence the restless desires that stir distractions from the still, small voice.

Let Your whisper be louder than the clamor of my soul.

Press me like grapes in Your vineyard,
and let the wine of Your Spirit become a sweet drink that revives my soul.

In this August, I choose stillness over striving,
presence over distraction and the gentle leading of the Holy Ghost over the noise of the world.

Love,
David Sanya

25 Today.
Maybe I’m excited.
Maybe not.
But that’s not the point.

If faith was just denial,
a chariot would’ve taken me.
But it’s more.
It’s walking away —
from noise,
from ease,
from old versions of me.

A letter to myself at 25:
Still creating? Check.
Still cooking? Check.
Still full of life? Check.
Still making impact? Check.
Still chasing God?
Always. Check.

What more could I ask for?
More God?
Yeah…
Check.

Happy Birthday, David.
May you win every battle
against every Goliath.

📞 “I thought you said New Cross —
why am I out here crossing new countries?!” 🌍💨

When the jollof calls, you run, not walk.
Papi’s Grill ain’t just a restaurant… it’s a spiritual journey

Tag your perpetually lost friend below ⬇️

🎥 @ozait_elldder @davidsanyaa

#WhereAreYouBro #PapisGrill #NewCrossChronicles #JollofGPS #LostButHungry #pgnewcross #londonerestaurants

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya

The Journal 004: The Mind in Christ Jesus

January 17, 2025

A mind like Christ’s, so meek, so low,
Where streams of grace unceasing flow.
No pride to mar, no self to claim,
Just love that burns a holy flame.

The strength to kneel, the will to yield,
A heart of mercy, a servant’s shield.
This mind, unshaken, firm, and true,
In every trial, it sees us through.

An artist’s hand may shape the skies,
Yet lose its soul in fleeting lies.
But Christ, the Master, calls us near—
To craft with purpose, pure and clear.

Each stroke, each word, a prayer refined,
An offering born of Christ’s own mind.
Not for the fleeting, nor for the fame,
But for the glory of His name.

O humble heart, O steady hand,
Let Christ’s own wisdom guide and stand.
For in His light, all beauty shines,
A masterpiece through heaven’s designs.

So rise, dear soul, to heights untold,
Through humble paths, His strength unfolds.
And in your work, let all behold
The King of glory, veiled to the Wise.

Love,
David Sanya