Thinking Temptation

11:46pm

In this, it’s only God. There is no other way. Even the option, “I can handle it”, is nowhere near a possible solution. As an idea it’s far flung from me already; so far that I can no longer hear its counsel. It just doesn’t work. Never did, never will. It only puffed me up into thinking I am the “Main Man” in charge.

11: 50am

And I’d say, it pretty well settled on my senses, touched my mind, deep, deep inside, that self-control was, on my own, futile. It’s only God, only Him that can save me.

12:26am

For when it felt sweet to do, when all that mattered was the moment’s pleasure, I was almost always completely stripped of whatever willpower I had. Yup, before temptation came with all her charm and allure, I thought I was invincible, but soon enough I realized I wasn’t. Not even close. 

3:06am

While I thirst for growth and seek to be better, strong and firm; and while I long to live a life progressively pleasing to my God and Maker, I always did find myself in this vortex that draws me again and again to an ill center – a familiar place of woe, a vomit, a bloody addiction that tempts me at every turn, mocking my redemption and my faith.

6:31am

God will help me through it. I believe. And I will overcome. But this time I fight and stand with God. His Word in my heart, my dependence on His strength, and trust in His promises, I know I will overcome.

 

Trials, As We Face Them

It’s been said to the brink of definite belief that God has an awful sense of humour. And unsurprisingly, it is hard to argue when you see God and his ways through the eyes of logic. More so, if you try to reason out the sense in seemingly undeserved trials that He allows to happen to us - trials that we’d all be more than happy to do without. 

However, the truth is, difficulties come to everyone of us, in different shades, for different reasons. Still, I think for many of us it isn’t just a matter of life not being a bed of roses; I believe that more than that, there is a purpose and a reason why God would permit trials in our lives. 

And it is God’s will that we rejoice in the face of those varying challenges by no other way but by the way of faith. For it is only through faith – not logic – that we can truly see His wisdom in the whole scheme of things.

"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, who have been called according to His purpose." - Romans 8:28

*Image from www.Heartlight.org

I Am Like My Dog

Momo is gone. For four days now, he’s gone away. I don’t know how to find him or where to find him. He’d made certain to keep his whereabouts vague that no sniffing on my part would find his trail. North, east, west, south, I wouldn’t know. 

Still, I’d like to know why Momo would leave in the first place. For quite intentionally I had been a very, very understanding owner; I wasn’t like overprotective and controlling as the neighbors were to their own dog, Isis. I gave my dog more space and respect than Isis or any other dog in the neighborhood could ever wish for. I never even treated him like a pet dog, never cuddled him to the extent of shaming his manhood. Or neither did I put on his neck the forbidden leash. He had carte blanche, as Nana would say; absolute freedom from his duties of being a pet, a protector and a best friend. I also didn’t starve him, if I might add. All I asked was that he comes home as soon as it was fully dark – 8, or 9pm at the most.

Now he's gone, either dead or taken. And I am helpless to bring him back, even now that I feel I sent him away, that somehow it’s my fault, I think, for two reasons – the only explanations I have.

Less important of the two reasons, is that I was a little bit inadequate in keeping his waywardness in check. You see, Momo’s been gone many times through the wee hours, but many times he’d come back before the first light of dawn. And since he always did remember home, I wasn’t too strict. A little abandon won’t kill; and by the way, I myself wouldn’t like to be restricted and deprived of adventures. 

However, in that, lies the second, more important of the two reasons that I think it’s my fault: I treated Momo the way I wanted to be treated. Free, loose, with no inhibitions. To save myself the guilt of being hypocritical I had to be patient and understanding. But now he's gone, either dead or taken. And I wonder if this is a lesson for the two of us. 

“FOR THOSE WHOM THE LORD LOVES HE DISCIPLINES…” – Hebrews 12:6

*Photo courtsey of Curiousphotos.blogspot.com

The Sanctified Soldier

It’s been a while since I’ve had a blown–off–the–face–of–God’s–earth experience with a song. This track, “Conqueror”, did it for me. Rock mixed with deep lyrical rap! Are you kidding me? You’d love it, especially if you’re particularly big on asserting WHO YOU ARE in Christ. So give it up for Pastor J, The Sanctified Soldier:

INFO:   

Artiste: PASTOR JIMMY ODUKOYA aka PASTOR J

Genre: GOSPEL ROCK

Director: SESAN

                                                                                                                                                               

*Video Courtesy of Youtube.

Half Letter [A Silver Lining In Gaddafi’s Mess]

Dear Colonel Gaddafi,

Shoes don't come falling down for no reason. These shoes, embedded with the meaning, “we hate you and we want you to disappear from our lives forever,” were all along going to find your head eventually. You should have known you had it coming. You should have prepared, and saved yourself the pain of being stoned, loathed and insulted by your own people.

But that is not the issue. It is not the reason I have decided to write to you, my comrade and friend. I write to you for a bigger cause, and in the midst of your present crisis, I trust that what I have to say would cheer you up, lighten your mood, and at least, make all your vain attempts at controlling the Libyan uprising count for something. I'd like to call it the silver lining in all the mess and commotion you have created in Tripoli and the rest of Libya. 

As a fellow oppressor, I think I have learned a very meaningful lesson from your predicament. Thanks to the event of your woes, I wouldn't have seen it. It came to me like an epiphany, in three words: “Dictators Are Buffoons”.  Why, for the first time I realized the reason people revolted in spite of our efforts to contain them with fear and………

Okay, okay… I think now is a good time to stop writing this letter. If I continue I fear I might begin to mock too seriously. The man Gaddafi deserves some sympathy, at least….a little tiny bit. I confess I don't know the Colonel personally. I am not a despot like him, I am neither his friend nor comrade, and most importantly, I wouldn't want to treat his difficulties too lightly. However, if I were truly his friend, I might have sent a letter to him in such a fashion as written, of course, without the ridicule and malice – for I would be but a true comrade.

For the purpose of the letter, I would have said the obvious to him: “domination is never foolproof”, especially against the enduring power of the human spirit. For never has cruelty and oppression lasted well with humans - who like birds want nothing more than to be free.

If only Gaddafi had sought to inspire his people rather than oppress them over his four decades as head of state, I think his leadership would have ended well with a legacy to be proud of – one of love and respect. Now, for his methods and ways, he has lost all credibility and influence as a leader.

I point to this because I believe it cuts across every form of leadership and influence in human relations. In the story of Muammar Gaddafi, I think we all have a lesson to learn. I'd bet on it that we'd all prefer and choose the love of our families, friends and influences over their shoes.  For a true and lasting legacy lies not in things, but in our relationships, in the hearts of those we love and care for. 

*Cartoon by Liza Donnelly 

The Big Madams of Lagos

Just out of the blue, a strange incident happened as I waited at the bus stop for the usual Danfo ride. I was heading home, it was after work, and I was standing under the glare of the afternoon sun when the sight of eight Yoruba women swaggering toward the road caught my eyes.

Their dresses suggested they were on their way to a Friday party. But quite noticeably, they had a particular air about them. It was of a blaring sort I believe - a mix of self-worth, audacity and pride.

The way they strolled, talked and gestured made them a spectacle worthy of interest. And by looking at them, even the least suspecting man could predict an ensuing incident in the making. So with rapt attention I joined fellow spectators hoping and waiting to be entertained.

Surely, it happened our prayers were answered. We witnessed as these women literally laid claim to the major road, Queens Street, as if it were their own. And at that moment, even though it was just for a few minutes, Lagos undeniably lost one of its streets to the madams.

Yes, these women were familiar Lagosian who strutted in peculiar confidence. Yes, the eight of them, stout and plump, were regal, for they were attired in rich colourful aso e bi and crowned with huge headdresses – the gele. However, it wasn’t necessarily how they looked that intrigued me the most. It was their deeds, which spelt in bold letters: “I KNOW WHO I AM, AND YOU BETTER SHOW ME SOME RESPECT”.

It was with assertive force that they arrested all attention when traffic on Queens Street was completely brought to a stop on their account. Not for just a minute or two or even for five but for a whole ten minutes, and it was all because the big madams demanded that they must cross the street in style, and that was exactly what they did.

First, the biggest of the lot walked to the centre of the road, then, with the abruptness and firmness of a military officer, she raised her hand and commanded the coming vehicles to “Stop there!” Imagine that. All the motorists did stop, and they did so without any complaints at all. Oh how dazed I was! As if in awe of a spectacular performance, I stood with a gaping mouth.  I couldn’t believe the sight.

As the women traversed the street, not more than one went at a time. It was a typical fashion parade as they each carried along with calculated grace and elegance. It was a procession of mirth and positive enjoyment for them – all at the expense of the buses and cars waiting to be on their way.

Not in Lagos do you find things like these happen everyday. On the streets this was an offence warranting the usual expletives, “Your papa, Na you get road?” or “Abegi comot for road jare, you done craze for head abi?” In the Lagos I know, insults like that would very much be in order. But as I said, to my shock, all the drivers just sat in their cars and obeyed the stop-command like little docile kids. Not even a word did they utter.

Did the madams cast a spell or juju as we call it here in Africa? I cannot say, but when I think about it, apart from the kick I got from the whole excitement, I can’t help but note a viable lesson: These women walked in the reality of who they believed themselves to be. They weren’t ready to be taken for granted. The common thing would have been to run across the road in fear of the impatient Lagos drivers. But they did the uncommon. They stood their ground with dignity and exerted themselves as the big madams that they were, in every way true and authentic.

  

  

To Be Free Of Guilt

Have you ever seen a man ridden by guilt? Well, you may likely find him wallowing in self-loathing, a very nasty predicament. Also, you may find him driven by the pangs of shame into hoping that the passage or perhaps the reversal of time would save him from his sense of regret.

But, of course, time won’t help. For with every passing second his mind suffers in woeful contemplation. And as a result, he may end up declaring himself unworthy and a sinner with no right to forgiveness.

For many of us, we needn’t look far for an example of a man in guilt. Our own lives have in one time or another suffered guilt, sometimes very severe. In fact, I’d dare say that the feeling of reproach is universal - at least to every normal person.

Nonetheless, in whatever way these experiences are common to us, we shouldn’t let them suffer us unnecessarily. We must not be ignorant of the fact that we can be free of guilt, no matter how grievous the transgressions that might have led to it.

Evidently, guilt is a typical trickster, seeking to convince its victims that they have no right to a second chance. Around us, we see its work: stark, helpless, riddled lives of those who had fallen from not only grace, but from every prospect of a good life.

Against this misery, we must fight, and the mind is where we fight. It’s where the guilt emotions try to take control and steal our peace of mind. In counter, it is where we must resist by maintaining a sound mental state.

Besides, when it comes down to freeing the mind of guilt, it is all about what we accept as truth. Would we think ourselves deserving of shame or of life? It is up to us, for in reality we can only prevail if we have the right mindset.

And what better way to build the correct frame of mind than meditation on God’s Word. In it, we are shown the love of the Father that says to us, “Come now, and let us reason together... though you sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow...” Surely, in these words, we can’t help but discern the richness of God’s mercy and grace.

Just like the story of the prodigal son, God as Father waits eagerly for our homecoming. Not minding our erring ways, He is ready to forgive us over and over, all because he loves us unconditionally. Beating ourselves down is not what He desires; rather, it is the pleasure of reinstating us to a life of liberty and delight.

In view of such love shown by the Father, do we think any of us should spend any more time floundering in guilt? Certainly not. Instead, let’s avail ourselves of the liberating truths of God’s love and forgiveness. For it is only in the knowing of the truth – as stated by our Lord Jesus – can we truly be set free.

By accepting the mercies of God, we can answer the voice of accusation that ever tries to put a guilt trip on us. We could say something like this, “hey you, hush! I recognize am guilt free for God my loving Papa has forgiven me my sins”. This is simply the veracity of our lives.

Yes, our imperfection may never desist in this life and time; however, it is not an excuse for us to agonize and suffer whenever we make a mistake. Let us not be ill with guilt but accept the cure of forgiveness that God so willingly wants to give. Remember, because of the work done on the cross, “there is therefore no condemnation” for us. We are absolutely free.