Hi...

So I created another blog using Wordpress. Wordpress has an app on Blackberry which makes it easier for me to post. Plus I'm yet to buy a modem, I know, I know, I should get updated with the times. Thus, before I digress, my new blog address is www.lovelarpei.wordpress.com. My new posts will go on that. You should check it out. Why? Well, just because...
Thus, I bid you farewell...

A Call

The phone rang. I thought it’d be Matthew or Mark, my best buddies, but surprisingly it was Luke whom I hadn’t heard from for quite some time.

            “Watsup?” I asked.

            “It’s John,” he replied quite anxiously. “He Acts like a Roman now, that terrible lot!”

            I didn’t see why that was such a big deal but soon enough, it dawned on me. “I thought he was a Corinthian even though his dad is originally a Galatian and his mum an Ephesian.”

            “Yes. See that’s the problem with mixed breeds. Good thing I'm fully a Phillipian,” he put in.

            I was confused. “It’s been a while since we’ve spoken but I thought your dad was a Colossian and your mum a Thessalonian.”

            He chuckled softly. “You’ve got me confused with Timothy, Titus’ step-brother.”

            “Oh, okay, our past head prefect. What of his close friend, Philemon though? Do you still hear from him?”

            “Yeah. He even speaks Hebrew now just like James and Peter.”

            I should learn too. “That’s nice.  Well I gotta go now. My brother John says hello, by the way.”

            “Okay. My brother Jude says hi too. Take care.”

            I hung up. Wow, now that phone call had revealed a lot. Sort of like a…well…Revelation

For those who didn’t catch the drift, the conversation made use of all the books in the New Testament. Explains why part of it might not have made so much sense (  ._.) (._.  ) Anyhoo…

'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.

Victoria's Secret

It all started one afternoon. The previous day had brought showers, more than showers anyway. It had been the worst flood Tillson Community had seen in over a century. According to the weather channel, they could probably expect more of that. The strappy, young, Italy-born gardener of the Johnsons inspected the damage. The lovely hibiscuses he had been grooming were ruined. He cussed in his Italian language and got to work. Just as he turned to leave, his eye caught a glimmer of something. Like a piece of silver. He bent to inspect the land and dug with his gloved hands. His hands caught something. He pulled a little and dug even faster.
"Oh my goodness!" he exclaimed. And then he ran in to alert the Johnsons.
Five whole hours had passed since the gardener had found what he found and now he was seated in the living room, with the Johnsons. Their only daughter, fifteen-year old Victoria, was there too. She stood with hands folded.
"So you mean to tell me you found Freddie? He's been dead for over two months now!" Mr. Johnson exclaimed.
"Yes , sir. I found the dead dog buried in your front lawn," the gardener repeated for the umpteenth time that hour.
"We need to call the police. That means Freddie was murdered," Mrs. Johnson said worriedly.
"I doubt if the police will come running down here over the case of a dead dog, sir," the gardener said.
"True, true. I'll inform Detective Stone." Mr. Johnson left the room.
"Let me get you some snacks, dear," Mrs. Johnson said and she also left the room.
Victoria stared intensely at the gardener. His eyes looked weary and his nose looked like it had been broken a couple of times.
"I know who did it," Victoria said.
"What? What are you talking about, young girl?"
"I have a secret. I know who killed the dog. They're right. Freddie was murdered. But who could have hated the dog so much? Who would want it dead?"
The gardener shrugged.
"Well, it was me."
The gardener almost choked. "What?!"

The Emancipation of Lisa

Lisa was broken. Physically, she was exhausted. Spiritually, she felt drained. Financially, she had nothing. She was battered, bruised, worn out. The burden was too heavy for the sixteen-year old. Her body racked with pain. Her brown eyes seemed to have run out of tears. She had been through enough! She was told her biological parents had passed on in a gruesome car accident when she was two. And as such, she had never known a true sanctuary. From one foster home to the other she had gone, searching for a meaning in life. But none of them had really wanted her. She had been treated like a nonentity, unseen and ignored. And so, she had packed up her two duffel bags full of worn-out clothes and run away again. Just like she had from all the others. This was different from the rest as the rain poured heavily, almost as if weeping for her, as she whisked off into the night. Perhaps the Hecklers wouldn't even notice her disappearance until evening, the next day, when she'd be required to make dinner. Mr. Heckler would probably come home drunk as usual and beat his wife up to a pulp. And then he'd search for Lisa...

She wondered how they even ever got the adoption agency to give her up. No surprise there though. She recollected how she had heard the stubby, bald-headed owner complain of too many orphaned babies showing up at their doorstep. He didn't forget to divulge to the Hecklers his need to pay his house rent urgently. "Take her!" he had said eagerly. This wicked man had turned them to some sort of business. The others kids didn't see it, infact they were very grateful to him, but ever meticulous Lisa did. As she had rightly seen from Mr. Heckler's yellowish, mean-looking eyes that he was no decent man. And his fragile, brunette wife just looked timid and, if you'd stare deeply into those blue eyes, somewhat frightened.

She seemed to snap out of her nightmare of being taken away by the Hecklers as she felt a tap on her arm. The dingy, half-completed building she has rested her head for the night was now full of construction workers. It was one of them who had woken her up.
"What are you doing here?!" the lanky but husky-toned man said.
Lisa jumped to her feet, her brown skirt even browner with dirt, and started to fidget.
The man sized her up with his beady eyes and Lisa could feel her heart racing faster than ever.
"Yo, Drew! We got work to do! Watchu doing over there?" someone called out.
As soon as Drew turned around to see who had spoken, Lisa fled, leaving one duffel behind.

She didn't stop running, even after she had checked the umpteenth time to make sure she wasn't being followed. Stopping briefly to gasp for air, she looked up and saw a huge cross from afar off. In awe and curiosity, she walked closer to it only to realise it was an edifice. Slowly and frightfully, she went in. The door was open ajar, seeming welcoming..

The floor seemed to creak as she walked on and the sound of it echoed through the large space. Rows and rows of mahogany pews she saw. The bright sun streamed in through the glass windows which were high up, illuminating the building, and small Lisa felt even smaller. At the far end, there appeared to be a shadow, kneeling before something. Lisa could count her steps as she walked tentatively, closer and closer to the figure.

She came to the altar and the figure gazed upon her with squinted eyes. It was a feeble, old man. The wrinkles seemed to adorn his pale face somehow.

"Young girl, what do you seek?" His voice sounded so pure and irenic.

"A home," she replied simply.

He nodded and gave her a knowing smile. "Ah, the eternal quest. Many have searched far and wide for it yet the answer is quite simple. The creation can only have a true refuge with its Creator. Only when they are in sync will one truly find rest for his soul," the sage said.

"What does that mean?" Lisa inquired.

"Why not take it to the Lord, m'dear?" And with that he stood up and plodded away.

Lisa was left, dazed. She remembered going to church when she was much younger, at the first house she stayed after she lost her parents. The Smithsons were probably the nicest. But after his wife had passed on after battling with cancer, Mr. Smithson decided to give Lisa up. She was a reminder of what once was. Last she heard, Mr. Smithson committed suicide.

Lisa inhaled. And exhaled. Then she shut her eyes and mumbled some words to the Lord. Minutes rolled into hours and at the end, her face was moistened with tears. She had told it all before her Lord. And strangely, she felt refreshed. She hadn't realised she was on her knees.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and she winced from the effect of the light. The whole room seemed to light up. Brighter than ever.

Here, kneeling in front of the altar, Lisa knew old things had passed away. She knew her Lord had taken all her burdens and cares. And for the first time in her life, she felt such emancipation. She could breathe in the fresh air and actually enjoy it. She wasn't filled with despair and hopelessness again. And then, she knew for certain that she was finally home because God had chosen her.

What If...?

What if things didn't have to be this way?
But what if we've run out of things to say?

What if time we seem to have lost?
What if we didn't carefully consider the cost?

What if time is the only thing that will tell?
But what if we already know the end too well?

What if your name still makes my heart beat faster?
What if moving on is a skill we both have to master?

What is past is past...
But I can't help but wonder what if we had made it last...

The Sacrifice

You might know this story all too well. It's actually a popular one. The one about Abraham being told to sacrifice his son, his only son. But let me take you through this again. And hopefully, shed light from a totally different angle. Read on ;)
Genesis 22:1-14
"1...(God) said unto him, 'Abraham'..." Who knows what Abraham had been doing at the time? Perhaps he was having supper. Or maybe it was a sunset evening and Abraham's beloved son was out on the field. And Abraham, the very proud aged father, was grinning as he watched his son.
We don't know for certain what exactly he was doing.
God called to him. Perhaps Abraham had answered absentmindedly, 'Here I am,' with his eyes looking dazedly at his son.
But if he was, the next words he heard must have shocked him out of his reverie.
"Take now thy son, thine only son, Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of."
What?!
Now the Bible tells us nothing of Abraham's verbal response. I've checked all the versions I can get my hands on. Nothing. Nada. Perhaps he didn't talk back to God nor question him. But I wonder what his flesh must have been telling him. Your only son? Even God had made emphasis on that.
But isn't that what faith does? Jumping when God tells you to even though you're at the edge of the cliff. Giving your last dime to someone who needs it more, knowing God said He wouldn't "...leave you nor forsake you..."
So the story goes on. Early the next morning (immediate obedience), Abraham set out. He didn't slack. He didn't procastinate. He didn't wait long enough for fear, doubt and 'common sense' to come in. He stepped out in faith.
Now here comes this interesting part. Could this be the foreshadow of a future event that would take place centuries later? The sacrifice of the Messiah, God's own only begotten Son.
Let's go on...
Verse 4 says Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place where the sacrifice should take place. That struck me. Afterall, do we not lift up our eyes to the cross, our only hope? The place of the ultimate sacrifice made for humanity. The place of victory (Col 2:14-15)
Let's go to our young friend, Isaac. "7...Isaac asked, 'I can see that you have the coals and the wood, but where is the lamb for the sacrifice?" Smart alec this one. Perhaps the servants that accompanied them had wondered too. And finally, someone voiced it.
Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?
Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?
Go forward to that time at Gethsemane. They had come for Him. Yea, the time was at hand. Jesus was not caught unaware, but the disciples were. An ear-cut and a miraculous healing later, Jesus of Nazareth was led away as...you guessed it..."...a lamb to the slaughter..." (Isaiah 53:7)
The reply Abraham had to give must have broken his very own heart. "God Himself will provide one." (vs. 8) Perhaps he was lying. Or he was speaking in faith. But that's it, isn't it? There's a very thin line between faith and lying. Isn't lying calling what is not as though it were. So is faith. The difference is that faith is backed up by a knowing and that in itself is the evidence.
Let's get on with the story though. They walked on. We are not told if there was any conversation. Perhaps they walked on in silence, each left with his own thoughts. Isaac with his bewilderment, confusion and curiosity. Abraham with sorrow in his heart, and a large dose of faith. They walked on still.
Finally, they arrive at their destination. Abraham goes about the business, setting up the altar. I can't help but wonder what our  friend was thinking, even as his father tied him to the altar. At least, he wasn't drugged so he must have been conscious. And so the knife is raised.
Now if you didn't already know the story, this would be a pretty cool place to pause and leave you in gut-wrenching suspense. But seeing as you already know it, let's get on with it.
Did he stab Isaac? Did he not? Well...(drumroll, please)...he did not!
"11. And the angel of the LORD called unto him out of heaven and said, 'Abraham, Abraham', and he said, 'Here am I'."(KJV)
Guess you already know how it all ends. But listen to the angel of the LORD.
He said "...now I know that you truly fear God. You have not withheld from me even your son, your only son." (vs 12) Abraham had proven himself and passed the test! Go Abraham!!
Why do you think God did all these in the first place? He had to ensure that the gift wasn't getting more attention than the Giver. Isn't that what we do most times?? "Lord, please I need a job!" We beg and plead and cry, and God in His infinite love and mercies grants us our requests. And then, why did you miss church? "Oh, I've been very busy with work. I was so tired! I'll be in church next week." Next week?? Same ol' story. Why haven't you been praying? "I hardly even have time for my family. I pray before I sleep though and sometimes before I eat, whenever I remember."
So many lessons are to be drawn from this. I'm sure the Holy Spirit of the living God will enlighten you more. My work here is done. What's one of the many things I've learnt?? Well, apparently, obedience is better than sacrifice. LoL. Take care ;)