Student life in Nigeria
23 hours ago
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
COBHAMS ASUQUO: AN INTENSE WORSHIP EXPERIENCE WITH A TRUE PSALMIST & GOD FREAK
AN INTENSE WORSHIP EXPERIENCE WITH COBHAMS ASUQUO- A TRUE PSALMIST & WORSHIPPER OF OUR GENERATIONBy Felix Abrahams ObiI woke up on Sunday, the 21st of June 2009- Fathers’ Day- with great expectation and knowing that in expecting too much from others or a situation, one is setting himself up for deep disappointments when they are not realized. I knew the risks but still left my home expectant. There was this deep longing to make it to this worship meeting from the first day my eyes caught a glimpse of the poster announcing the ‘’Intense Worship with Cobhams Asuquo’’ @ Transcorp Hilton Abuja to be hosted by the Throne Room Parish of RCCG.Hundreds of us were crammed into Lagos Hall this Sunday morning and extra chairs were brought in to take up more spaces, and the foyer outside the hall took care of the overflow of human heads and hearts. Just before the service kicked off, I had reason to receive an important call outside the hall. Behold there was Cobhams exchanging banters with his band and team members. His acoustik guitarist friend and fellow musician, Gbolahan was kind enough to introduce me to Cobhams and we pumped each other’s hands in a warm handshake. ‘Thank you brother Felix’, he offered as I made my way back to the hall.No sooner, he was ushered into the hall with his worship team and after humbly acknowledging the kind compliments and introduction by ‘Auntie Dayo’ of DOXA Digital (Abuja’s and one of Nigeria’s foremost Sound Engineering and Events Company) he set out for the business of worship. His band comprised of two female backup singers/vocalists, two acoustic guitarists, a bass guitarist, his violinist and drummer; and he sat behind the piano with the microphone adjusted to face his mouth. And two laptops for cueing in the songs in sequence completed his team!He began with a charge; that he wouldn’t have us do anything mechanically in God’s presence like it’s often the case in some Christian gathering. He wanted us to be deliberate because he ‘’wanted heaven here’’ and at the end of the intense worship experience we had corporately, any sincere person would attest that we truly experienced the beautiful atmosphere of heaven in that crammed hall.His 1st song and call to worship was ‘Holy Holy Holy, Lord God Almighty’, followed by ‘Make Our Hearts Your Dwelling Home’. The 3rd song titled ‘My Soul Thirsts for You” was written by him in 2005. He said it was a period when he thirsted desperately for God and a time when his spirit literally was patched like when one who has been marooned in a desert, hedged all around by sand dunes with no oasis in sight. Where there’s no water, the throat becomes famished and parched, and that was the feeling he had that period; He was in need of a touch from God!At that time, a lot of things had gone awry in his life, and his car had this funny stench that made him upset. But as he prodded further, he realized that the sense of discontentment he was experiencing was because his soul was thirsty and longed for God desperately. So he wrote this song which should be the heart cry of every true worshipper. How else would you gauge the heart of the writer of a song whose lyrics are loaded with some heart-stirring words like?---------------------------------------------------“Like the grasses need the rainLike the desert needs the rainLike the suckling child needs the milkLike a barren woman needs a childHear my prayer…You’re my shelter, my helperYou hold my anchorLet me hide in you forever My soul thirsts for you...”-----------------------------------------Hands were lifted. Souls were stirred. Hearts of many cried as his soulful voice resonated in worship to God with reckless abandon. As we transited to the 4th song, he told us how he loved the feeling of sound so much and that he used to put his head in between the two speakers of his deck while in secondary school to enjoy and feel the stereo/surround effect of the sounds from the speakers. He had wanted to play his acoustic guitar as the 5th song was cued in, which was popularized by Anthony Evans and Women of Faith whose chorus celebrates Jesus as the Wonderful Rescuer of the souls of men. It was written at a time when he just couldn’t get by in life and had to learn to lay down his burdens at the foot of the cross. It’s about trading our ashes for God’s beauty. He likened God to the One who has a bucket of water at the sidelines of the football pitch of life whom we should run to when tired to have a cup of water to soothe our thirst. But once we gulp the cup however, we just run off and forget that He still has a bucket-full of water waiting for us to come back now and again to refresh our souls. He urged us to recognize that we can’t achieve anything or labor to build a house without the help of God. And did he not tell us to not wrestle with God to save us from the dislocated hip experience and resultant limping gait that Jacob suffered for wrestling with God?The 6th song was written by a friend of his titled ‘Jesus the Son of God, I believe in You” and he yet again regaled us with another true-life story. It was a period in his life when according him, he was ‘Poor, Broke and Homeless’’ and needed a breakthrough for he had no dime then and used to sleep on the bare floor of hundreds of studios across Lagos. Then he would day-dream about having a different kind of studio from the ones he worked and slept in which were very uncomfortable and mediocre. But he was poor and broke! He needed not just to sing or preach about faith but truly believe in God and live the life of faith.He related how as a kid in the army barracks where he grew up, he was playing with a Muslim friend, Saidi , who had shouted “Jesus” when the latter fell off a tree. That incident made him reckon that we often grow up not realizing the power we have access to in the name of Jesus. It was the name of Jesus that the blind Bartimeaus called on that led to his receiving his sight and made him whole. As for him (Cobhams) he hinted that he was already whole and this was not saying it in a euphemical sense! He had achieved a lot by exercising faith in the name of Jesus. While doing some recordings sometime ago in Paris (I guess Asa’s), he got a call from a friend in Lagos that the space for the dream studio he had always wanted to acquire was now available. Problem was that he had no dime to pay the landlord but somehow he believed God will sort him out. Upon his return to Nigeria, he learnt about a job to produce a commercial for a very big brand in Nigeria. Because the figure being offered was too big and beyond his financial experience, he felt he had already lost it even before executing it. After receiving this fat cheque, he paid the landlord for his studio but “waited for him to say the cheque had bounced’’ which never happened. That was one experienced that took his faith to a notch higher and since then, he had exercised faith to do much more than he had ever done before. According to him, faith is like a habit that we develop. Like when a man slaps a woman once, it becomes easier to do it a second time till it becomes a bad habit. Faith he said is developed same way as we exercise fear till it becomes as constant as a lunar cycle. E talked about his mom who had believed that her son, Cobhams though blind, was going to get the best of education even when she didn’t know how nor had the means. And in exercising her faith, she has become one of the happiest moms on earth today for her seemingly ‘blind son’ has become a blessing to millions all over the world!This song was delivered with so much passion as Cobhams sang, “Jesus the son of God, I believe in you. In my darkest hour, you became my light. With your healing arms, you redeemed my sight. And Jesus the son of God, I believe in you…” He became ecstatic and swayed side to side when he came to his most favorite refrain when his voice bellowed; “I believe, yes Lord, I believe, you’re the son of God”. He called Jesus his Hebrew name, ‘Yeshua”; our Redeemer, Savior and Counselor!The 7th song was about righteousness which he defines simply as doing right like obeying traffic laws, not being a litter box and being good and law abiding citizens. He affirmed that Nigerians are a blessed people. We’re all left in stitches when he joked that no English word can correctly translate the word blessing like the Yoruba word for blessing; ‘Ibukun’. To him you have to ‘ibu’ it till its ‘kun’… and the hall resonated with laughter as he tried to translate blessing from English to Yoruba. He made us realise how seemingly ordinary things like a plate of beans and dodo or a cup of cold water can evoke extra-ordinary feelings of pleasure that he sometimes feels like crying. The song titled ‘The World of Ordinary People, living the way God wants it” eulogized the simple things of life that produce extraordinary things. Such ordinary things like a baby drooling on your lovely shirt. It’s about ordinary people like David, Job etc who did extraordinary things. Like an ordinary dream or decision (yes or no) we make today creating extraordinary things tomorrow. Just like every oak tree grows from a small mustard seed. He spoke about family life and that no ordinary father will come back home after 3am, after hanging out with guys.The 8th song was accompanied by his violinist Ernest and he had written it when he lost a dear friend and had tried to console a mutual friend who seemed so inconsolable then. He had exhorted his friend to know that whatever happens, God is still good. But his friend retorted and cried, ‘But it is difficult…” to believe that God is good when things go bad. But this is a lesson Cobhams had come to learn over the years from his personal experience as one who’s been blind. He had tried to achieve a lot of things by sheer hard work and all, but he had come to a point where he said ‘I will worship God, regardless…” even when things don’t come through as expected.He then took us through a medley of two popular songs of worship: ‘You’re all I Want’, and ‘This is the Air I breathe’ followed by ‘Glorious Deliverer” which had an acoustic feel and as he delivered this song, streaks of tears glistened his eyes and trekked out of the corners of his eyes. It was as though the tear sacs had become too engorged that they just had to burst and let go off the tears of worship from a heart that truly loves God passionately. His voice reverberated as he sang this song:-------------------------------------------------------------------Almighty God, Ancient of Days… Strong and Mighty GodBright morning star, beautiful beyond comparePerfect in all your waysYou’re worthy of my praiseI worship you Lord in the beauty of your holinessIn the splendor of your majestyIn the frailty of your son, your salvation for us was doneYou’re God; you’re bigger than what they say you are,You’re God, far more beautiful than they say you are,-------------------------------------------------------------------------At this point we had reached a crescendo in this intense worship experience and Cobhams began to speak passionately about God like a TV evangelist. Having grown up as a Catholic, he had learned to recite prayers like ‘Our Father’, ‘Hail Mary’ etc and it was easy thinking about other things while reciting these prayers. So when he stepped into a charged atmosphere where spirit-filled believers worshipped he felt detached and cut-off. As a skeptic He even felt embarrassed when people spoke in tongues or ‘fell’ under the anointing.He talked about having a deep experience with God which Jesus offers anyone that invites Him into their hearts. To him, one might not be able to know all there is about God, but that doesn’t make the experience of God something that is far-fetched. His voice quaked as he announced it to our hearing that ‘God is real” and that ‘Life outside of Jesus Christ is not worth living at all”. He became apologetic when he turned his attention to those who may doubt the veracity of his claims about God. They might see him as stupid, mentally-deranged or plain serious. He was of the view that it’s ok to be ‘cool’ and be ‘hip’ and not care about God. But he re-echoed Jesus’ warning that anyone who denies the Son of God before men, will receive same treatment by Jesus on the last day at the Judgment seat of God.Gradually a number of people started making their way to answer the altar call, while Cobhams sang about ‘ a fountain that washes away our sins’, and another song that evokes the picture of Jesus standing by and knocking at the door of our heart, seeking to be let in, and that we should not let Him walk away. One of the host pastors joined Cobhams to urge people who want to give their lives to Christ to come to the altar, and many more did…At this point, I felt I’ve had a truly intense worship experience and I stood up to leave for an important assignment. As I pondered over the experience, I realized that much as I love to worship God in church, Cobhams has made me realize once more that worship is more of a lifestyle. The songs he wrote were offspring of the experiences he’d had with God and I wish we have more psalmists like him in the Nigerian church that are not entertainment driven who would take us through corporate worship into God’s very presence.The picture of Cobhams worshipping, singing and playing behind the piano reminds me of my dear friend and psalmist, Segun Gilbert (London-based) whom I’ve long told to organize worship meetings like this…and I trust he’ll someday release a worship album for the good of worship-starved believers like us. And I believe RCCG Throne Room Parish recorded this live-worship and would in due course make the CDs and DVDs available to the wider community of believers.If anyone is in doubt that Cobhams is a God-chaser and Jesus-freak, let me share an excerpt from an interview he earlier granted Hip-Hop World Magazine where he said; “There’s hardly a thing I do. I wake up and I say, God you know what? This is the deal: I don’t know how this is going to happen but it’s your name out there more than mine. Some people say mine but the big picture is your name. So let’s save the situation again. He always does. So quite frankly, I’m not sure I have anything spectacular. I just allow myself to be used and I’m happy…” He says he’s done nothing spectacular yet he boasts of owning world-class studio -www.camp.com.ng- and remains one of Nigeria’s greatest producer, song writer and singer whose fame is global.----------------------------------------------------------------Felix Abrahams Obi is a Physiotherapist and Poet who lives and works in Abuja and can be reached via halal3k@yahoo.com or www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com
Monday, June 22, 2009
Abraham: My Father!!!
ABRAHAM, MY FATHER!!!
Another Father’s Day had come and gone. I’d wished you were here to hear it from my mouth that I cherish you for being my father. Though I have no memory of you locked up anywhere in my conscious mind, you’re not and have never been a phantom reality to me. You walked through this world and touched lives long before I knew what living was all about. Abraham, my father, I raise a prayer of thanks to God in honor of you.
It’s funny that you liked to do your stuff in obscurity and was wary of standing before the camera’s lens to pose for a picture. Hence the family album I watched as a kid had lots of pictures of your friends, but not you, and that’s the only ‘beef’ I really seem to have had with you, dad! You made me order Uncle Ikoro, your photographer friend to search through his library/archives of black & white pictures and their negatives just to catch a glimpse of you but after a futile search, he confirmed that you’re just ‘camera-shy’ and took no personal pictures. Could that be the reason why I had no baby pictures? Anyway, good news is that now I have become a camera freak and the beautiful people and scenes around me have not been escaping the clicking shutters of my camera.
Two months ago I went to the village for the interment of your sister-in-law and a middle aged man from Umuihi village whom I scarcely knew, called me aside and asked, “Are you the son of Abraham?”, and I answered with a sense of pride for he had mentioned that you were a kind man who helped him and a couple other kids when he was a primary school boy at St. Joseph’s Primary School Ihitte. He said they usually came to your shop at Isinweke Market to buy exercise books and stuff, and you’d often help those who couldn’t buy due to lack of money. I can’t count the number of times during my stay in the village as a kid and subsequent visits as an adult to the village when folks I hardly knew would ‘accost’ me to ask: “Are you the son of Abraham?’’ and they would add, “ He was such a large-hearted, generous ,kind and peace-loving man who cared so much for people.”
Guess what? People have been kind to me on account of your kindness to them. People paid my school fees as a child when mum couldn’t on account of your kindness. Several uncles and relatives stepped into your shoes to be a father figure to me all because of your kindness. I couldn’t even have had a university education if not that someone you had been kind to, took up the responsibility to see me through the university and has remained a true father ever since. You never knew you’d leave too early and now your kindness has been reciprocated in my life, and often times am baffled at the show of love and kindness I receive from even strangers. Could they be the fruits of the seeds you’d sown way back?
Was kindness a gene you inherited and replicated in your offspring? Sometimes I feel like being mean and heartless to people I meet but something always thaws my heart, and I wonder if that was a prayer you’d prayed. I wonder what it is that you did to my mom…yes your only wife; that made her stay stuck with you when she’d the advantage of age and gracefulness to win the heart of another man long after you’re gone. She once said to me; ‘My son, no other man could ever love me like Abraham your father did!” What did you really do to stir such commitment and loyalty from a woman you left behind with such enormous responsibilities of raising your 3 kids? She said it was your dream that I become educated rather than go to learn a trade like it was for most kids who lost their dads early in the village. I wish you’d know now that I am not just an educated man; I’ve become a man of letters; a wordsmith and troubadour of sorts, who trade in words that now travel to people in far-removed cultures and lands through the internet!
You know what father; I once wrote a poem for you when I began to craft words into poems. It was an ode and I wished I could find a way to send them across to the celestial beyond where I hope you’re resting in the bosom of The Father of all flesh and spirits. I poured my heart to tell you how much you meant to me, and that I was proud to be your son. My only regret was that I didn’t really get to know you since you left too early for me to recall your picture or how your voice sounded. But everyone who knew you had so much to say and tell me about you.
You know my best childhood friend calls me ‘Nwa Abraham’ and you can imagine how tickling a feeling it evokes in me each time, and he has called me “Nwa Abraham” for years now. I’ve known so many other kids and grown-up men who hardly could say anything complimentary about their dads and their dads are even alive today. Though you’ve been gone for over 30years, I’ve not ceased to say am honored to be your son, and that your genes run deeply in me.
I have just a little secret I wanted to whisper in your ears but I hope it won’t make you green with envy though. You know what? Over a decade ago, my lips could hardly articulate the letters that combine to form the word ‘father’ because I wasn’t used to calling anyone ‘My father” as a kid. So you can imagine how funny and weird in the mouth it would be for a full-blooded adult like me to call anyone father. Though my great uncles filled your slot and disciplined me when I erred and instilled in me the sense of right and wrong, I still didn’t call them ‘Papa’ nevertheless.
Anyway, I once had an unimaginable experience that opened up my heart to the concept of fatherhood in your absence. Somehow God adopted me to become his own son when I decided to believe in the redemptive work of Jesus Christ. It was a long and chequered journey before my mind and heart were conquered by the reality of God’s love for me. The first time I tried to call God ‘Father’, my lips sort of felt clumsy and it just didn’t make any sense. But with time, I have come to really know that Almighty God is actually ‘My Father’ though in heaven and I didn’t even know all along that He was the one who sent all the lovely people that cared for me in your stead.
I didn’t know He’s the ‘Father of the fatherless’ until my heart came to appreciate that He’s always been there even when you’re there. Shebi you no go vex say I been dey call Papa God, ‘My Father’? Him na correct papa: ‘confirm’ like my brothers wey dey sell 4 Idumota will say to a customer to prove the genuineness of their product!
One last thing, I adopted your name Abraham as one of my official first names in my international passport. And because am now linked to Abraham the patriarch and father of faith, I decided to add an ‘S’ to your name to accommodate this double paternal and spiritual heritages that I have. So you’d see that I am called ‘Abrahams’ and that tells you I’m proud of you. I want to retain and perpetuate your name and what you stood for, and I am happy to be your son, and hope years to come, generations that will follow your lineage will be called a truly Blessed People. Happy 2009 Father’s day Dad-in-Celestial-Diaspora!
Your son,
Felix-Abrahams Chukwudi Obi
www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com
Another Father’s Day had come and gone. I’d wished you were here to hear it from my mouth that I cherish you for being my father. Though I have no memory of you locked up anywhere in my conscious mind, you’re not and have never been a phantom reality to me. You walked through this world and touched lives long before I knew what living was all about. Abraham, my father, I raise a prayer of thanks to God in honor of you.
It’s funny that you liked to do your stuff in obscurity and was wary of standing before the camera’s lens to pose for a picture. Hence the family album I watched as a kid had lots of pictures of your friends, but not you, and that’s the only ‘beef’ I really seem to have had with you, dad! You made me order Uncle Ikoro, your photographer friend to search through his library/archives of black & white pictures and their negatives just to catch a glimpse of you but after a futile search, he confirmed that you’re just ‘camera-shy’ and took no personal pictures. Could that be the reason why I had no baby pictures? Anyway, good news is that now I have become a camera freak and the beautiful people and scenes around me have not been escaping the clicking shutters of my camera.
Two months ago I went to the village for the interment of your sister-in-law and a middle aged man from Umuihi village whom I scarcely knew, called me aside and asked, “Are you the son of Abraham?”, and I answered with a sense of pride for he had mentioned that you were a kind man who helped him and a couple other kids when he was a primary school boy at St. Joseph’s Primary School Ihitte. He said they usually came to your shop at Isinweke Market to buy exercise books and stuff, and you’d often help those who couldn’t buy due to lack of money. I can’t count the number of times during my stay in the village as a kid and subsequent visits as an adult to the village when folks I hardly knew would ‘accost’ me to ask: “Are you the son of Abraham?’’ and they would add, “ He was such a large-hearted, generous ,kind and peace-loving man who cared so much for people.”
Guess what? People have been kind to me on account of your kindness to them. People paid my school fees as a child when mum couldn’t on account of your kindness. Several uncles and relatives stepped into your shoes to be a father figure to me all because of your kindness. I couldn’t even have had a university education if not that someone you had been kind to, took up the responsibility to see me through the university and has remained a true father ever since. You never knew you’d leave too early and now your kindness has been reciprocated in my life, and often times am baffled at the show of love and kindness I receive from even strangers. Could they be the fruits of the seeds you’d sown way back?
Was kindness a gene you inherited and replicated in your offspring? Sometimes I feel like being mean and heartless to people I meet but something always thaws my heart, and I wonder if that was a prayer you’d prayed. I wonder what it is that you did to my mom…yes your only wife; that made her stay stuck with you when she’d the advantage of age and gracefulness to win the heart of another man long after you’re gone. She once said to me; ‘My son, no other man could ever love me like Abraham your father did!” What did you really do to stir such commitment and loyalty from a woman you left behind with such enormous responsibilities of raising your 3 kids? She said it was your dream that I become educated rather than go to learn a trade like it was for most kids who lost their dads early in the village. I wish you’d know now that I am not just an educated man; I’ve become a man of letters; a wordsmith and troubadour of sorts, who trade in words that now travel to people in far-removed cultures and lands through the internet!
You know what father; I once wrote a poem for you when I began to craft words into poems. It was an ode and I wished I could find a way to send them across to the celestial beyond where I hope you’re resting in the bosom of The Father of all flesh and spirits. I poured my heart to tell you how much you meant to me, and that I was proud to be your son. My only regret was that I didn’t really get to know you since you left too early for me to recall your picture or how your voice sounded. But everyone who knew you had so much to say and tell me about you.
You know my best childhood friend calls me ‘Nwa Abraham’ and you can imagine how tickling a feeling it evokes in me each time, and he has called me “Nwa Abraham” for years now. I’ve known so many other kids and grown-up men who hardly could say anything complimentary about their dads and their dads are even alive today. Though you’ve been gone for over 30years, I’ve not ceased to say am honored to be your son, and that your genes run deeply in me.
I have just a little secret I wanted to whisper in your ears but I hope it won’t make you green with envy though. You know what? Over a decade ago, my lips could hardly articulate the letters that combine to form the word ‘father’ because I wasn’t used to calling anyone ‘My father” as a kid. So you can imagine how funny and weird in the mouth it would be for a full-blooded adult like me to call anyone father. Though my great uncles filled your slot and disciplined me when I erred and instilled in me the sense of right and wrong, I still didn’t call them ‘Papa’ nevertheless.
Anyway, I once had an unimaginable experience that opened up my heart to the concept of fatherhood in your absence. Somehow God adopted me to become his own son when I decided to believe in the redemptive work of Jesus Christ. It was a long and chequered journey before my mind and heart were conquered by the reality of God’s love for me. The first time I tried to call God ‘Father’, my lips sort of felt clumsy and it just didn’t make any sense. But with time, I have come to really know that Almighty God is actually ‘My Father’ though in heaven and I didn’t even know all along that He was the one who sent all the lovely people that cared for me in your stead.
I didn’t know He’s the ‘Father of the fatherless’ until my heart came to appreciate that He’s always been there even when you’re there. Shebi you no go vex say I been dey call Papa God, ‘My Father’? Him na correct papa: ‘confirm’ like my brothers wey dey sell 4 Idumota will say to a customer to prove the genuineness of their product!
One last thing, I adopted your name Abraham as one of my official first names in my international passport. And because am now linked to Abraham the patriarch and father of faith, I decided to add an ‘S’ to your name to accommodate this double paternal and spiritual heritages that I have. So you’d see that I am called ‘Abrahams’ and that tells you I’m proud of you. I want to retain and perpetuate your name and what you stood for, and I am happy to be your son, and hope years to come, generations that will follow your lineage will be called a truly Blessed People. Happy 2009 Father’s day Dad-in-Celestial-Diaspora!
Your son,
Felix-Abrahams Chukwudi Obi
www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
God in Search of Man...is more than just a wish!
GOD IN SEARCH OF MAN…IS NOW MORE THAN A WISH!
I have met so many people in my life, and many have left indelible marks that are like etched imprints in my heart. But these people are not my significant others, friends or family members joined by a filial bond. Rather, these have been men and women who I’m yet to meet face-to-face and may not possibly meet in life. Many others have tidied up their activities on earth long before I was born. Some were not popular and the media didn’t haunt and scavenge their closet for news. In short, they lived their lives as quietly as they left…but the world has remained abuzz for their sake.
A close friend, who’s so resolute and decisive with making choices once told me how as a kid, he devoured materials about Alexander the Great such that he grew up to pattern his life to be another Great Man, and he’s at the moment broken artistic frontiers and operates from a high intellectual pedestal that is far from the mundane and commonplace. Books…were his earliest companions, and through books, he visited several countries without having to buy a world-traveler class of air tickets.
As a kid too, I got into reading my school books…then books took over me that at some point I became a bookaholic, but not the nerdy type with thick eye glasses. Just normal eyes that peer at the black dots that span the length and breath of a roll of white papers bound together…books!
The first time I made about N50 as a teenager, I used all to buy a text book, and as a university student, I used my pocket money to buy my first study bible when I began to see the rich treasures lodged in the belly of the sacred scriptures. And as a corper, I’d a close ‘bookish friend’ with whom I visited bookshops in Benin City to buy books once we received our paltry monthly stipend -‘allawi’! His fiancée knew about our ‘waywardness’ and would caution him on the unparalleled expenses (spelt investments) he made on/in books.
It was him that introduced me to the songs of Michael Card (www.michaelcard.com) -one of America’s most-gifted Christian song-writer, singer, author, multi-instrumentalist and bible scholar. From listening to his deeply reflective and insightful songs, I started yearning to read one of his books. About 4 years ago, my niece in America sent me a sample of his books and after the first bite, I began to long for more and have so far read almost all the books he’d written and a lot of his music albums courtesy of my beloved niece!
His devotional poetry and songs in no time began to influence my own devotional writings that I feel no embarrassment when anyone tags me as a ‘religious writer’ as I’m one by divine default! Once in a while, I do pop into Michael Card’s website to check him out. And about 2 weeks ago, I was on his site again, and decided to check out his ‘reading list’ and was not amazed that this guy who teaches astronomy at a college has such a collection of classic works (http://www.michaelcard.com/readinglist.html). Since I was at that time trying to revive my prayer life, I decided to know what book he’d recommend as best read on prayer. His all time best on prayer turned out to be Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s book ‘GOD IN SEARCH OF MAN”.
I have always loved rabbis and had always wished to be taught about God from the perspective of a rabbi. Since the rabbi I respect so much, Yeshua Hamashea (Jesus Christ) didn’t get to write a book, I was eager to read a book by a rabbi like Heschel whose interests in social gospel and unshakable belief in the existence of God marked him out. When he matched in solidarity with Martin Luther King Jr. to Washington during the Civil Rights campaigns, he commented that ‘his legs prayed’ during the match. How could a Jewish rabbi fight the same cause with a black Christian preacher?
In one of my profile posts on facebook, I mentioned that I am really in search of this rabbi’s book. A few friends sent me the link and a new facebook poetess friend, Uju Anokwute offered to order the book for me if I wanted it. And just while I was working out that, a big brother I respect so much, Femi Blaize sent a note to inform me that he’d already bought the book for me.
I was wowed and had to inform Uju to not buy a copy anymore. And after Sunday service in my church in Abuja last Sunday, May 17th 2009, Uncle Femi Blaize dropped the book into my hands…and my heart glowed with joy and mirth. Deep in my heart, I was effusive with thanks to him and to God for making a wish, turn into a book!
And I learnt a lesson…that a wish can take up flesh and become your reality. Hence I’m now careful about speaking aloud my wishes for they can become reality overnight without my assistance, labour or participation.
Once King David casually told to his aides that he was very thirsty and in need of a drink, and without his consent, these guys put their lives in the harm’s way; broke through enemy lines to just fetch a can of water for David. When these guys made their way back, their swords were stained with blood after fighting off their opponents.
David was so overwhelmed that his men went out of their way to meet just a ‘wish’, he decided to not drink the water again since these men could’ve been killed for his sake. To him, the jar of water was more of the ‘jar of men’s blood’ so he decided to pour it out as a libation to God for his men had sacrificed their lives to meet a wish!
So this is thanking Uncle Femi Blaize…and Uju Anokwute for sacrificing to meet a wish that I casually expressed. God bless you plenty...and may all your wishes turn into ‘met needs’ not just ‘felt needs’. May your prayers become angelic assignments that must be met with urgency!
God bless! Shalom!
www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com
I have met so many people in my life, and many have left indelible marks that are like etched imprints in my heart. But these people are not my significant others, friends or family members joined by a filial bond. Rather, these have been men and women who I’m yet to meet face-to-face and may not possibly meet in life. Many others have tidied up their activities on earth long before I was born. Some were not popular and the media didn’t haunt and scavenge their closet for news. In short, they lived their lives as quietly as they left…but the world has remained abuzz for their sake.
A close friend, who’s so resolute and decisive with making choices once told me how as a kid, he devoured materials about Alexander the Great such that he grew up to pattern his life to be another Great Man, and he’s at the moment broken artistic frontiers and operates from a high intellectual pedestal that is far from the mundane and commonplace. Books…were his earliest companions, and through books, he visited several countries without having to buy a world-traveler class of air tickets.
As a kid too, I got into reading my school books…then books took over me that at some point I became a bookaholic, but not the nerdy type with thick eye glasses. Just normal eyes that peer at the black dots that span the length and breath of a roll of white papers bound together…books!
The first time I made about N50 as a teenager, I used all to buy a text book, and as a university student, I used my pocket money to buy my first study bible when I began to see the rich treasures lodged in the belly of the sacred scriptures. And as a corper, I’d a close ‘bookish friend’ with whom I visited bookshops in Benin City to buy books once we received our paltry monthly stipend -‘allawi’! His fiancée knew about our ‘waywardness’ and would caution him on the unparalleled expenses (spelt investments) he made on/in books.
It was him that introduced me to the songs of Michael Card (www.michaelcard.com) -one of America’s most-gifted Christian song-writer, singer, author, multi-instrumentalist and bible scholar. From listening to his deeply reflective and insightful songs, I started yearning to read one of his books. About 4 years ago, my niece in America sent me a sample of his books and after the first bite, I began to long for more and have so far read almost all the books he’d written and a lot of his music albums courtesy of my beloved niece!
His devotional poetry and songs in no time began to influence my own devotional writings that I feel no embarrassment when anyone tags me as a ‘religious writer’ as I’m one by divine default! Once in a while, I do pop into Michael Card’s website to check him out. And about 2 weeks ago, I was on his site again, and decided to check out his ‘reading list’ and was not amazed that this guy who teaches astronomy at a college has such a collection of classic works (http://www.michaelcard.com/readinglist.html). Since I was at that time trying to revive my prayer life, I decided to know what book he’d recommend as best read on prayer. His all time best on prayer turned out to be Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s book ‘GOD IN SEARCH OF MAN”.
I have always loved rabbis and had always wished to be taught about God from the perspective of a rabbi. Since the rabbi I respect so much, Yeshua Hamashea (Jesus Christ) didn’t get to write a book, I was eager to read a book by a rabbi like Heschel whose interests in social gospel and unshakable belief in the existence of God marked him out. When he matched in solidarity with Martin Luther King Jr. to Washington during the Civil Rights campaigns, he commented that ‘his legs prayed’ during the match. How could a Jewish rabbi fight the same cause with a black Christian preacher?
In one of my profile posts on facebook, I mentioned that I am really in search of this rabbi’s book. A few friends sent me the link and a new facebook poetess friend, Uju Anokwute offered to order the book for me if I wanted it. And just while I was working out that, a big brother I respect so much, Femi Blaize sent a note to inform me that he’d already bought the book for me.
I was wowed and had to inform Uju to not buy a copy anymore. And after Sunday service in my church in Abuja last Sunday, May 17th 2009, Uncle Femi Blaize dropped the book into my hands…and my heart glowed with joy and mirth. Deep in my heart, I was effusive with thanks to him and to God for making a wish, turn into a book!
And I learnt a lesson…that a wish can take up flesh and become your reality. Hence I’m now careful about speaking aloud my wishes for they can become reality overnight without my assistance, labour or participation.
Once King David casually told to his aides that he was very thirsty and in need of a drink, and without his consent, these guys put their lives in the harm’s way; broke through enemy lines to just fetch a can of water for David. When these guys made their way back, their swords were stained with blood after fighting off their opponents.
David was so overwhelmed that his men went out of their way to meet just a ‘wish’, he decided to not drink the water again since these men could’ve been killed for his sake. To him, the jar of water was more of the ‘jar of men’s blood’ so he decided to pour it out as a libation to God for his men had sacrificed their lives to meet a wish!
So this is thanking Uncle Femi Blaize…and Uju Anokwute for sacrificing to meet a wish that I casually expressed. God bless you plenty...and may all your wishes turn into ‘met needs’ not just ‘felt needs’. May your prayers become angelic assignments that must be met with urgency!
God bless! Shalom!
www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
A woman dat loved her man!
“She is not the helplessly-romantic babe who’s been swooned by love, but she had received so much love from her family and friends. And she had one strong desire:
-to meet and love a man who’s been deprived of love-
Now married for 8yrs, tears wrapped his eyes when we talked about her few days ago. She’s his greatest treasure on earth, and he’s put himself in harm’s way so he can at least love her back!”
-to meet and love a man who’s been deprived of love-
Now married for 8yrs, tears wrapped his eyes when we talked about her few days ago. She’s his greatest treasure on earth, and he’s put himself in harm’s way so he can at least love her back!”
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
The Curse of a Beautiful Face
THE CURSE OF A BEAUTIFUL FACE
By Felix Abrahams Obi
As she stepped into the dusty and colourless NYSC orientation camp, almost everyone noticed her. She and other uncrowned pageants were like rose petals that brightened the dullness of the rugged camp that had made the polished and cultured to live like savage tribes that dwelt in caves. Soldiers tried to drain out the bloody civilian in us through drills, early morning jogs, tasteless meals and all. We wore clothes that were not as cleanly-cut like hedges trimmed with the gardener’s shears.
Guys swooped in on her in a scramble of who’ll be the first to trip her over to subdue her heart. In her innocence, she didn’t know their intent and save for a wise guy who cared and volunteered to be her front and rear guard, their overtures would have tricked her into submission. At the weekly CD activities, the guy stood like a fiery and dare-devil cop around her to ward off guys who appeared like bees ready to lick nectar and also sting with their phallic emblems.
If her beauty was seen as a blessing by her admirers, it was to her an evil foreboding; disguised curse. Her female house mates in the ‘Corpers’ Lodge’ saw her as a threat to their love lives since their boyfriends visited often just to catch a glimpse of her. Their faces sparkled with obvious delight each time their bodies brushed ostensibly against hers. Her face was like a lighthouse that outshone the beauty of her envious female corpers-friends. Her sculpted frame reminded of how far away they are from their idea of being beautiful. But it was not her fault that she’s beautiful and it was not her fault that the sight of her was eliciting envy and jealousy from her female friends. She was wanted by the men for her beauty, and hated for the same reasons by her fellow women.
When she walks into a restaurant, guys wink and their lips whistle in hushed tones at the risk of being spanked by the sneer and dour-mien of their female companions. Men are not wary of asking for her telephone number and gleefully smile when she obliges their request. They easily offer her rides without her asking for one, and feel delighted being in her company. For she’s a happy go-lucky girl and amiable and she’s a good girl with high moral standards. Though not given to flirting, modesty makes her not to spurn and snub every sincere male admirer.
But that’s her greatest challenge and the reasons for the high premium life insurance brokers are willing to charge her. When a guy visits her at home or takes her out on a date, they impulsively want to steal a kiss, touch an ‘untouchable’ place, and would press for more if she doesn’t resist or protest vehemently. It was not their intention to abuse and molest her physically, but they every now and again, fell into that temptation; that weakness that all men are known for.
In her lonely moments, she cries and wonders when men would love her for her person and not for her pretty face and body spec. Every other guy thinks she’s been taken and keeps a distance while she wonders why those guys show interest in her without having the liver to sprint along for the ultimate race of wooing her heart. Her male peers who feel inadequate scorn her as though she’s a plaque, believing she’s as unreachable as the farthest of stars. For she glitters like one, and shimmers like the moon. Those who have the effrontery and guts to ask her out overdo it by trying to over-impress her with their material possessions and expensive gifts.
Those who seem to have the guts and skill to conquer her unfortunately are the men with wedding bands in their ring fingers because they’re already experienced and have garnered wisdom over time. Since they are married to women, they’ve demystified the façade that beauty wears and are emboldened to go for her knowing that she’s as conquerable as the women they now call their wives. But these are not the type of men she longs to woo her…but these are the ones that are not inebriated or overpowered by her pretty face and beautiful frame.
At night she snuggles under the warmth provided by her lonely duvet and blanket, and the cycle goes on like the phases of a yearly weather. Her heart weeps tears that are drained into her being, hoping that someday, some guy will brace up and conquer the fears make him unable to stand boldly before her to tell her how much he loved her person and not her body. She cries because all the men that comes her way, forgets about her brains, her soul, her singing voice…for all they can easily reach for is her beautiful body. And from her statistics, 99% of men she meets and interacts with daily prefer to reach for her body and not her heart. And she wonders if her beauty has made her turn into an object to be acquired, and not a person to be cherished and loved unconditionally.
She ponders daily and wails…Lord why am I so beautifully and fearfully made…amand all she hears like an echo is… “I created you beautiful to express my love for aesthetic beauty and to reflect my glory. So do not despair my daughter, for I make all things beautiful in my time. Do not hate yourself for being beautiful. Do not loathe yourself for getting all the attention…for I did it deliberately and you’re one of those that I took extra time to sculpt their faces and bodies. So accept yourself the way you’re and do not let your beauty get into your head, or make you frustrated by how lustfully men look at you. Just ignore those looks and move on with your life…For it was my choice…!”
Email: halal3k@yahoo.com
www.nuggezt4life.blogspot.com
By Felix Abrahams Obi
As she stepped into the dusty and colourless NYSC orientation camp, almost everyone noticed her. She and other uncrowned pageants were like rose petals that brightened the dullness of the rugged camp that had made the polished and cultured to live like savage tribes that dwelt in caves. Soldiers tried to drain out the bloody civilian in us through drills, early morning jogs, tasteless meals and all. We wore clothes that were not as cleanly-cut like hedges trimmed with the gardener’s shears.
Guys swooped in on her in a scramble of who’ll be the first to trip her over to subdue her heart. In her innocence, she didn’t know their intent and save for a wise guy who cared and volunteered to be her front and rear guard, their overtures would have tricked her into submission. At the weekly CD activities, the guy stood like a fiery and dare-devil cop around her to ward off guys who appeared like bees ready to lick nectar and also sting with their phallic emblems.
If her beauty was seen as a blessing by her admirers, it was to her an evil foreboding; disguised curse. Her female house mates in the ‘Corpers’ Lodge’ saw her as a threat to their love lives since their boyfriends visited often just to catch a glimpse of her. Their faces sparkled with obvious delight each time their bodies brushed ostensibly against hers. Her face was like a lighthouse that outshone the beauty of her envious female corpers-friends. Her sculpted frame reminded of how far away they are from their idea of being beautiful. But it was not her fault that she’s beautiful and it was not her fault that the sight of her was eliciting envy and jealousy from her female friends. She was wanted by the men for her beauty, and hated for the same reasons by her fellow women.
When she walks into a restaurant, guys wink and their lips whistle in hushed tones at the risk of being spanked by the sneer and dour-mien of their female companions. Men are not wary of asking for her telephone number and gleefully smile when she obliges their request. They easily offer her rides without her asking for one, and feel delighted being in her company. For she’s a happy go-lucky girl and amiable and she’s a good girl with high moral standards. Though not given to flirting, modesty makes her not to spurn and snub every sincere male admirer.
But that’s her greatest challenge and the reasons for the high premium life insurance brokers are willing to charge her. When a guy visits her at home or takes her out on a date, they impulsively want to steal a kiss, touch an ‘untouchable’ place, and would press for more if she doesn’t resist or protest vehemently. It was not their intention to abuse and molest her physically, but they every now and again, fell into that temptation; that weakness that all men are known for.
In her lonely moments, she cries and wonders when men would love her for her person and not for her pretty face and body spec. Every other guy thinks she’s been taken and keeps a distance while she wonders why those guys show interest in her without having the liver to sprint along for the ultimate race of wooing her heart. Her male peers who feel inadequate scorn her as though she’s a plaque, believing she’s as unreachable as the farthest of stars. For she glitters like one, and shimmers like the moon. Those who have the effrontery and guts to ask her out overdo it by trying to over-impress her with their material possessions and expensive gifts.
Those who seem to have the guts and skill to conquer her unfortunately are the men with wedding bands in their ring fingers because they’re already experienced and have garnered wisdom over time. Since they are married to women, they’ve demystified the façade that beauty wears and are emboldened to go for her knowing that she’s as conquerable as the women they now call their wives. But these are not the type of men she longs to woo her…but these are the ones that are not inebriated or overpowered by her pretty face and beautiful frame.
At night she snuggles under the warmth provided by her lonely duvet and blanket, and the cycle goes on like the phases of a yearly weather. Her heart weeps tears that are drained into her being, hoping that someday, some guy will brace up and conquer the fears make him unable to stand boldly before her to tell her how much he loved her person and not her body. She cries because all the men that comes her way, forgets about her brains, her soul, her singing voice…for all they can easily reach for is her beautiful body. And from her statistics, 99% of men she meets and interacts with daily prefer to reach for her body and not her heart. And she wonders if her beauty has made her turn into an object to be acquired, and not a person to be cherished and loved unconditionally.
She ponders daily and wails…Lord why am I so beautifully and fearfully made…amand all she hears like an echo is… “I created you beautiful to express my love for aesthetic beauty and to reflect my glory. So do not despair my daughter, for I make all things beautiful in my time. Do not hate yourself for being beautiful. Do not loathe yourself for getting all the attention…for I did it deliberately and you’re one of those that I took extra time to sculpt their faces and bodies. So accept yourself the way you’re and do not let your beauty get into your head, or make you frustrated by how lustfully men look at you. Just ignore those looks and move on with your life…For it was my choice…!”
Email: halal3k@yahoo.com
www.nuggezt4life.blogspot.com
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The Dilemma of Desire, Hope and Passion
THE DILEMMA OF DESIRE, HOPE and PASSION:
(A Reflection on Easter Monday: 13/04/2009)
By ©Felix Abrahams Obi………………………………………………………………..
It was the dawn of 2009. A call from a very close relative made my phone beep. New Year wishes were exchanged briefly and I dropped the phone to rest. About two minutes later, he called again to ask if all was Ok with me, and I answered in the affirmative. Not satisfied with my ready-made answer, the wife took the phone from him to quiz me further. She’s someone I can easily by default bare my heart to, so she was sure I would open up. They had been bothered that I’d withdrawn into a shell fortified by silence and hardly called or returned anyone’s call for weeks and months. The palpable bubble of enthusiasm that I used to exude had gone like the smoke of a cigar leaving only the stub of indifference and this worried them. Strange enough, I told them ‘’I’m OK” when really I was far away from the plains of lush green meadows of life. I was in a financial mess and acute financial squeeze that choked and shut out joy from my heart!I really had been hit below the belt by the bitter reality of a sick heart that had been broken on account of ‘’hope deferred’’ (Prov. 13:12). The call had come after weeks and months of watching my dreams take flight. I was sulking from the disappointment of not selling my shares when the ‘ovation was loudest’, only to watch helplessly as my ‘invested savings’ of four years drained away into the sewage pit of stock market collapse. Regret, anger and self-loathing waged a war against my psyche- “why did you not sell them off when the shares were their peak? …now you’ve lost all that you saved, and investments!”I was also reeling from the pain and sorrow of being rejected by an organization whose board chairman had earlier told me he’d always desired to work with ‘such an intelligent young man’ like me. He had told me they were head hunting for the position and I was certain I would be the precious bride that will yield to their overtures. After the interview, I waited for the ‘call’ and appointment letter only to find out they had taken someone else. They later told me that they still liked me and my profile and hadn’t closed the door against me. Other job interviews I did afterwards had all ended with the same empty promise of ‘expect our call soon’ -which never came. Mere pep talk and empty promises when all I needed was a change in my status quo!I had hoped for a change, and the realization of a dream, a hope, and a desire for something worth pursuing only to end up at the plains of disappointment and near despair. I experienced in my flesh the despair of Fantine, the single mother and one of the tragic characters on Victor Hugo’s novel ‘Les Miserables’ who was fired for refusing the sexual advances of the foreman. In the musical made from the novel, Fantine hauntingly sang a beautiful song entitled “I Dreamed a Dream’’ which captured the pain of her deferred hope:I had a dream in time gone byWhen hope was high and life worth livingI dreamed that love would never dieI dreamed that God would be forgivingI had a dream my life would beSo different from the hell I’m livingSo different from what it seemedNow life has killed the dream I dreamedLike a friend once said after I failed him that ‘expectation is the mother of disappointments’ and desire is the source of our most noble aspirations and our deepest sorrows. The heart only becomes sick when “hope is deferred ‘but when the desire comes, there is life and joy’’ (Prov. 13:12). We loathe the pain of desire but savour the joy of its consummation and realization. Yet the pain and the sorrow are two faces of the same coin and the chances are evenly distributed when the coin is tossed: head or tail; pain or sorrow! Should we not strive to reach for our goals and desires because of how they make us vulnerable and open to the vagaries of life? Do we dare to love and trust again when our heart had been hurt and shattered by those we had loved and trusted? Should we dare to reach out for our dreams again and pursue our desire for success after licking the wounds failure and deferred hopes had afflicted on us?The fact of life is we are wired by default to keep reaching out for goals and dreams. Eve reached out for the ‘forbidden fruit’ due to an inner longing to desire for more than what the status quo offered. Adam wouldn’t have eaten the fruit from Eve’s hands if he never ever nursed the desire too. She reached for the fruit; and he ate the fruit as proof that he was cautious about expressing his desire. Maybe he feared the undesirable consequences which seemed to have shunned Eve until Adam’s teeth cut through the juicy fruit and ‘his eyes opened’’. Aren’t women often more expressive about their desires than men, who are certain to bottle up their needs and desires? Maybe men are uncannily aware of what Alexander Pope had in mind when he wrote that “desire is the fate of the desiring soul”.Those that are sick and bedridden desire to get well and become healthy again and explore life. The poor desires to become rich, and the lonely and forgotten want to see the sunlight on others faces. The mature single wants to marry and bear children even when menopause threatens to stymie their desires. The heartbroken deeply desires to love and be loved back again. But the snag is that life often connives with the enemies of our dreams to frustrate our efforts. We then take up the attitude of the experimental monkeys that were sprayed with cold water every time they dared to climb the ladder to grab the juicy banana.To handle disappointments and undesirable outcomes that come with pursuing our dreams, we often opt to reduce the size of our desires and reach for less. It could be as a result of repeated blows and punches from failed attempts and crumbled dreams. The labourer loses the hope of becoming the foreman. The office messenger and janitor lose the desire and hope of sitting on the swivel chair of his educated boss. The entrepreneur loses his desire to build a world class organization after the bank reclaims and repossess his assets due to inability to repair the loan. Since failed hopes are often the source of the rivulets of anger that burst forth into raging rivers, the once who experienced shattered dreams takes out his anger on another person. Or he just retracts into the tent of gloom where his depression is stoked and incubated till the remnants of hope are buried.This was the state the disciples of Jesus had found themselves when Jesus Christ was taken away from them and contrary to their belief, their Big Boss became vulnerable in the hands of mundane rulers to the point they squelched life out of his noble soul. The one who gave Simon Peter the hope of becoming a “fisher of men’’ had become so weak and vulnerable that mortal men mockingly crucified the one he knew by revelation to be the ‘ Son of the living God’. The disciples who watched him do ear-stunning miracles now saw the irreconcilable side of Jesus now lost hope and despair took over. Like Peter, they all returned back to the status quo; the point where their dreams came in manageable sizes; a medium size canoe harboring a sizeable fishing net!But on resurrection morning, their hope escaped from the captivity and shackles of despair. The empty tomb was to them evidence that dreams don’t lie even when they seemingly die from the deadly blows of failure. Finally the lessons that Jesus had taught them for three years sank in and anchored deeply in their hearts. The stench they inhaled at Lazarus’ grave made them not truly believe Jesus when he said he was the resurrection and life. He sure raised Lazarus from the death, but they knew how incapable and inadequate they were should they be called upon to raise Jesus from the dead. The reality of the glaring inability, weakness and powerlessness in the face of the death of their powerful Master added to their hopelessness. But all this changed when Jesus appeared in their midst to have a barbecue by the beachside. Hope made a return journey back into their hearts again such that when Jesus ascended into heaven, they didn’t despair a second time. They now believed that they can actually ‘ask, seek and knock’ knowing that they will ‘receive’ and ‘find’ and ‘doors will open’ as they pursued their dreams. This emboldened their hearts and they waited and prayed together in the Upper Room in Jerusalem until they received the power Jesus had promised will imbue them to face the challenges of life. They began to dream again, giving hope to the dreams and expectations of others; the sick, the blind, the disabled, the powerless, the hopeless etc, without cringing at the sight of a ruthless Roman army and a threatened clergy!If life is to be lived, it should be without apology and should be stretched to the limits. That was what Jesus had promised and equally exemplified. He lived life to the full without yielding to limitations. He lived a carefree life that didn’t balk at the negative comments, sneers and jeers of the religious right and political left who tried to compartmentalize and categorize him. He went to parties with ‘sinners, wine bibbers and harlots’ knowing his morality would come under question by his disciples and followers because these groups were people who dared to pursue their dreams, though misplaced. Rather than condemn, he redirected and steered their dreams away from self-gratification to self-realization, so they could fulfill their destinies in life. The Samarian woman at the well with seven husbands finally found an answer to her inner longings that men couldn’t fill. The ‘women caught in the very act’ finally found a reason to not hit the hay again with any other man other than her husband. He made Zacchaeus, the corrupt tax collector find a noble goal of benevolence and integrity that overshadowed all the years of stealing from the poor and rich alike.To desire strongly to achieve a noble goal is the fuel that fires life. Dreams realized cause feelings of pleasure to permeate the whole being. One should not yield to the puritan rebukes of the Stoic or stoop too low to the pleasure-seeking goals of the hedonist either. The goal of living is to find and give life to great and lofty dreams that will lift up the lots of others. The major challenge we have in the pursuit of desire is not whether to yield or suppress it especially when it goes wayward and conflicts with our moral values and known spiritual laws. The true challenge is what to do with desire knowing that human paradox is that often desires run amuck like cancerous cells. The way out is not to kill desire but to seek its healing by appealing to the enlightened and transformed part of us; so our desires can be brought under the obedience of our wills.It was desire to pursue the love of his life that made Jacob labour for 14 years just to marry Rachael. It was desire to punish Goliath for blaspheming God’s name that made young David to confront the giant and experienced warrior with his sling and stones. It was passion for God that made David dance in an undignified way that made his wife to mock him. It was the same desire for God that made him compose poems about his relationship and love for God even when everyone in Israel knew about his adulterous fling with Beersheba. God’s presence was his greatest passion for he had written; “One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life…for in your presence is fullness of joy”. In other psalms he passionately wrote: “As the deer pants for water brooks, so pants my soul after you, O God. My soul thirsts for the living God…my tears have been my food all day long”. And he would in another psalm cry out, “ O God you are my God, earnestly I seek you, my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you…” and it’s not a surprise that in the entire Biblical account of levitical priests prophets and kings, no one else was tagged as ‘The man after God’s heart”. Do not kill desire but seek for ways to bring it to the point it becomes a servant to you. Desire, hope and passion are the elements that give life a meaning! Follow your dreams faithfully as they hold the key to fulfilling destiny and meaning in life. Ask successful men and they’d whisper one secret into your ears: Follow your dreams, desires and goals even when they look impossible!(The author is a poet and physiotherapist who lives in Abuja and can be reached via halal3k@yahoo.com or www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com)
(A Reflection on Easter Monday: 13/04/2009)
By ©Felix Abrahams Obi………………………………………………………………..
It was the dawn of 2009. A call from a very close relative made my phone beep. New Year wishes were exchanged briefly and I dropped the phone to rest. About two minutes later, he called again to ask if all was Ok with me, and I answered in the affirmative. Not satisfied with my ready-made answer, the wife took the phone from him to quiz me further. She’s someone I can easily by default bare my heart to, so she was sure I would open up. They had been bothered that I’d withdrawn into a shell fortified by silence and hardly called or returned anyone’s call for weeks and months. The palpable bubble of enthusiasm that I used to exude had gone like the smoke of a cigar leaving only the stub of indifference and this worried them. Strange enough, I told them ‘’I’m OK” when really I was far away from the plains of lush green meadows of life. I was in a financial mess and acute financial squeeze that choked and shut out joy from my heart!I really had been hit below the belt by the bitter reality of a sick heart that had been broken on account of ‘’hope deferred’’ (Prov. 13:12). The call had come after weeks and months of watching my dreams take flight. I was sulking from the disappointment of not selling my shares when the ‘ovation was loudest’, only to watch helplessly as my ‘invested savings’ of four years drained away into the sewage pit of stock market collapse. Regret, anger and self-loathing waged a war against my psyche- “why did you not sell them off when the shares were their peak? …now you’ve lost all that you saved, and investments!”I was also reeling from the pain and sorrow of being rejected by an organization whose board chairman had earlier told me he’d always desired to work with ‘such an intelligent young man’ like me. He had told me they were head hunting for the position and I was certain I would be the precious bride that will yield to their overtures. After the interview, I waited for the ‘call’ and appointment letter only to find out they had taken someone else. They later told me that they still liked me and my profile and hadn’t closed the door against me. Other job interviews I did afterwards had all ended with the same empty promise of ‘expect our call soon’ -which never came. Mere pep talk and empty promises when all I needed was a change in my status quo!I had hoped for a change, and the realization of a dream, a hope, and a desire for something worth pursuing only to end up at the plains of disappointment and near despair. I experienced in my flesh the despair of Fantine, the single mother and one of the tragic characters on Victor Hugo’s novel ‘Les Miserables’ who was fired for refusing the sexual advances of the foreman. In the musical made from the novel, Fantine hauntingly sang a beautiful song entitled “I Dreamed a Dream’’ which captured the pain of her deferred hope:I had a dream in time gone byWhen hope was high and life worth livingI dreamed that love would never dieI dreamed that God would be forgivingI had a dream my life would beSo different from the hell I’m livingSo different from what it seemedNow life has killed the dream I dreamedLike a friend once said after I failed him that ‘expectation is the mother of disappointments’ and desire is the source of our most noble aspirations and our deepest sorrows. The heart only becomes sick when “hope is deferred ‘but when the desire comes, there is life and joy’’ (Prov. 13:12). We loathe the pain of desire but savour the joy of its consummation and realization. Yet the pain and the sorrow are two faces of the same coin and the chances are evenly distributed when the coin is tossed: head or tail; pain or sorrow! Should we not strive to reach for our goals and desires because of how they make us vulnerable and open to the vagaries of life? Do we dare to love and trust again when our heart had been hurt and shattered by those we had loved and trusted? Should we dare to reach out for our dreams again and pursue our desire for success after licking the wounds failure and deferred hopes had afflicted on us?The fact of life is we are wired by default to keep reaching out for goals and dreams. Eve reached out for the ‘forbidden fruit’ due to an inner longing to desire for more than what the status quo offered. Adam wouldn’t have eaten the fruit from Eve’s hands if he never ever nursed the desire too. She reached for the fruit; and he ate the fruit as proof that he was cautious about expressing his desire. Maybe he feared the undesirable consequences which seemed to have shunned Eve until Adam’s teeth cut through the juicy fruit and ‘his eyes opened’’. Aren’t women often more expressive about their desires than men, who are certain to bottle up their needs and desires? Maybe men are uncannily aware of what Alexander Pope had in mind when he wrote that “desire is the fate of the desiring soul”.Those that are sick and bedridden desire to get well and become healthy again and explore life. The poor desires to become rich, and the lonely and forgotten want to see the sunlight on others faces. The mature single wants to marry and bear children even when menopause threatens to stymie their desires. The heartbroken deeply desires to love and be loved back again. But the snag is that life often connives with the enemies of our dreams to frustrate our efforts. We then take up the attitude of the experimental monkeys that were sprayed with cold water every time they dared to climb the ladder to grab the juicy banana.To handle disappointments and undesirable outcomes that come with pursuing our dreams, we often opt to reduce the size of our desires and reach for less. It could be as a result of repeated blows and punches from failed attempts and crumbled dreams. The labourer loses the hope of becoming the foreman. The office messenger and janitor lose the desire and hope of sitting on the swivel chair of his educated boss. The entrepreneur loses his desire to build a world class organization after the bank reclaims and repossess his assets due to inability to repair the loan. Since failed hopes are often the source of the rivulets of anger that burst forth into raging rivers, the once who experienced shattered dreams takes out his anger on another person. Or he just retracts into the tent of gloom where his depression is stoked and incubated till the remnants of hope are buried.This was the state the disciples of Jesus had found themselves when Jesus Christ was taken away from them and contrary to their belief, their Big Boss became vulnerable in the hands of mundane rulers to the point they squelched life out of his noble soul. The one who gave Simon Peter the hope of becoming a “fisher of men’’ had become so weak and vulnerable that mortal men mockingly crucified the one he knew by revelation to be the ‘ Son of the living God’. The disciples who watched him do ear-stunning miracles now saw the irreconcilable side of Jesus now lost hope and despair took over. Like Peter, they all returned back to the status quo; the point where their dreams came in manageable sizes; a medium size canoe harboring a sizeable fishing net!But on resurrection morning, their hope escaped from the captivity and shackles of despair. The empty tomb was to them evidence that dreams don’t lie even when they seemingly die from the deadly blows of failure. Finally the lessons that Jesus had taught them for three years sank in and anchored deeply in their hearts. The stench they inhaled at Lazarus’ grave made them not truly believe Jesus when he said he was the resurrection and life. He sure raised Lazarus from the death, but they knew how incapable and inadequate they were should they be called upon to raise Jesus from the dead. The reality of the glaring inability, weakness and powerlessness in the face of the death of their powerful Master added to their hopelessness. But all this changed when Jesus appeared in their midst to have a barbecue by the beachside. Hope made a return journey back into their hearts again such that when Jesus ascended into heaven, they didn’t despair a second time. They now believed that they can actually ‘ask, seek and knock’ knowing that they will ‘receive’ and ‘find’ and ‘doors will open’ as they pursued their dreams. This emboldened their hearts and they waited and prayed together in the Upper Room in Jerusalem until they received the power Jesus had promised will imbue them to face the challenges of life. They began to dream again, giving hope to the dreams and expectations of others; the sick, the blind, the disabled, the powerless, the hopeless etc, without cringing at the sight of a ruthless Roman army and a threatened clergy!If life is to be lived, it should be without apology and should be stretched to the limits. That was what Jesus had promised and equally exemplified. He lived life to the full without yielding to limitations. He lived a carefree life that didn’t balk at the negative comments, sneers and jeers of the religious right and political left who tried to compartmentalize and categorize him. He went to parties with ‘sinners, wine bibbers and harlots’ knowing his morality would come under question by his disciples and followers because these groups were people who dared to pursue their dreams, though misplaced. Rather than condemn, he redirected and steered their dreams away from self-gratification to self-realization, so they could fulfill their destinies in life. The Samarian woman at the well with seven husbands finally found an answer to her inner longings that men couldn’t fill. The ‘women caught in the very act’ finally found a reason to not hit the hay again with any other man other than her husband. He made Zacchaeus, the corrupt tax collector find a noble goal of benevolence and integrity that overshadowed all the years of stealing from the poor and rich alike.To desire strongly to achieve a noble goal is the fuel that fires life. Dreams realized cause feelings of pleasure to permeate the whole being. One should not yield to the puritan rebukes of the Stoic or stoop too low to the pleasure-seeking goals of the hedonist either. The goal of living is to find and give life to great and lofty dreams that will lift up the lots of others. The major challenge we have in the pursuit of desire is not whether to yield or suppress it especially when it goes wayward and conflicts with our moral values and known spiritual laws. The true challenge is what to do with desire knowing that human paradox is that often desires run amuck like cancerous cells. The way out is not to kill desire but to seek its healing by appealing to the enlightened and transformed part of us; so our desires can be brought under the obedience of our wills.It was desire to pursue the love of his life that made Jacob labour for 14 years just to marry Rachael. It was desire to punish Goliath for blaspheming God’s name that made young David to confront the giant and experienced warrior with his sling and stones. It was passion for God that made David dance in an undignified way that made his wife to mock him. It was the same desire for God that made him compose poems about his relationship and love for God even when everyone in Israel knew about his adulterous fling with Beersheba. God’s presence was his greatest passion for he had written; “One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life…for in your presence is fullness of joy”. In other psalms he passionately wrote: “As the deer pants for water brooks, so pants my soul after you, O God. My soul thirsts for the living God…my tears have been my food all day long”. And he would in another psalm cry out, “ O God you are my God, earnestly I seek you, my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you…” and it’s not a surprise that in the entire Biblical account of levitical priests prophets and kings, no one else was tagged as ‘The man after God’s heart”. Do not kill desire but seek for ways to bring it to the point it becomes a servant to you. Desire, hope and passion are the elements that give life a meaning! Follow your dreams faithfully as they hold the key to fulfilling destiny and meaning in life. Ask successful men and they’d whisper one secret into your ears: Follow your dreams, desires and goals even when they look impossible!(The author is a poet and physiotherapist who lives in Abuja and can be reached via halal3k@yahoo.com or www.nuggetz4life.blogspot.com)
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