'Butterfly' Moment

My childhood was a beautiful one. I remember afternoons spent in the balcony watching the sky wet the earth, fascinated by the bright flash of lightning. I remember feeling like a little detective after each delicious read of a Mary Higgins book and the games, which seem silly now in retrospect, played with my baby sister and imaginary friends. I remember the poses I struck along with my sisters in front of the “amazing” webcam and the melodious sound of the piano being played by my now late father floating into my room. I remember the one and only time my wonderful father caned me (I had wanted to cross the street alone and I was less than ten years old) and I hid under the dining table and cried my eyes out. I think I cried because I had never seen him turn against me before and not so much from the measly three strokes. I remember the day the DSTV dish was installed, excitement filled the house!! You see, I grew up watching cartoons and cable. I grew up with a philosophical father who had completed his Masters degree in Psychology in Harvard Uni. Little wonder I talked with an accent even though I had never gone beyond the shores of Nigeria, even Abeokuta for that matter. I remember evenings solving crossword puzzles with my father. He had faith in my knowledge and would tell me I could always answer them all. Strangely and rightly enough, I would after his encouragement. I cannot recall reading my notes or textbooks yet I would come out tops in class. I, however, still recall classes I had sat in, and sometimes words from the teachers’ mouth still come into my mind. I remember running into our ‘doll-room’ after a fun-filled yet supposedly “hectic” day in primary school. My sisters and I came up with diverse inventions. We made ‘ToysVille’, a city (our children parlour) made entirely of A4 paper and cardboard with playhouses and dolls. Five Alive boxes were made into cars and buses. Paper was made into money (art imitated life). Food and electronics for these dolls were, without my father’s knowledge of course, printed courtesy of Print Artist using his PC. I recall vividly coming home some days and Momma would have had the maid clean the room spotless. Didn’t deter us though, just made for a fresh start for ToysVille. I remember winning a raffle draw for an all-expense paid trip to Dubai. I can also recall Momma plaiting my hair every Sunday night in preparation for school the next day.

Yet the most special moment (yes, all the others are very special) is the one when I handed my life over to my Lord. I call it my 'butterfly' moment. A time of definition, an unveiling. While I cannot remember the exact moment (I later found it somewhere that I had written the date, October 2003), I know for sure my life must have spun around. I have rededicated my life over and over again. Now I recall moments spent in praise. I woke up after a thoroughly satisfying afternoon nap one day and the beaming sun streamed into the room as the day readied to turn into night. I don’t know what came over me but I started praising and I couldn’t stop. This set the pace in my realization of how vital praise is. I remember being depressed one night, believed to be puberty ‘mood swings’, and I began to praise. And at first, toothy grins plastered over my young face and before I knew it, I was laughing somewhat like a maniac, filled with unexplainable joy and peace.

And so lesson one was borne for me: Beyond prayers, sometimes praise is all you need. Praise is simply appreciation. If all God has done is to save your soul and preserve your life till this day, it is enough to praise Him for all eternity. Don’t believe me? You should check the package you woulda gotten had He not.

Praise also takes you to a higher realm. You have a paramount view of the situation. Some situations don’t need prayer, all they need is praise. Bishop Oke taught me something – praising God on credit (in advance). The truth is that God will owe no man. I won't fully go into the topic praise today though.

Many other lessons have also followed which hopefully I’ll be able to get to as many as possible later. It will be a sort of bible study series and please, feel free to comment. We’re all learning. This was sort of a preamble.

The Yorubas have a saying which translates “only the living will praise God; the dead cannot”. Listen to what David, the Psalmist, said in Psalm 145:21. “I will praise the LORD, and may everyone on earth bless His holy name forever and ever.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, David.