THE MAKING OF THE MAN || Japheth Prosper

A few days after the demolition of my school, something quite interesting happened. A parent brought his daughter to the new site for the first time and saw that we only had a makeshift in place for the kids. Angrily, he ranted for a few minutes.

“What sort of nonsense is this? Is this where you want my daughter to come and learn? I can’t let my daughter stay here. When you guys are ready to do business, let me know.”

With that, he zoomed off. This action of his affected us in many ways. He was aware that it was not our fault that things were the way they were. All that he could have done was to at least encourage us but he chose instead to incite the other parents.

Few days after that arrogant act, many parents withdrew their wards from our school even though we were just about to write exams. Some people cited distance as the reason for the withdrawal but we knew better. This troubled my wife greatly.
“Please let us forget about this school and go and look for jobs,” she suggested when it was now obvious that we were not making any meaningful progress. She had lost hope completely because out of the seventy nine pupils that we already had, only thirty one now remained with us at our new place.
I did not believe that closing the school was a good idea because for two and a half years, we suffered the pangs of hunger, borrowed like beggars and were ridiculed by many. Our lives had moved from the sublime to the ridiculous. My kids had literarily been made to think that we were not like other people because we were always in lack. All because of the school!
I had sacrificed a lot. I was not willing to let go just like that.
I had always told my wife that until we had spent three whole years running the school, she must never bring up the idea that we should shut it down no matter what we were going through. This was why it was difficult for her to convince me that it was time for us to close shop.

“We are yet to spend three years,” I told her.
It was true. The school was about two and a half years old when it was demolished.
“But what is there to hope for?” she said referring to the number of pupils we now had and the pathetic condition we now lived.
“Wait until it has reached three years old. If it can’t feed us after three years, we will shut it down.”
The three years target was just about six months away. If nothing was done fast to extinguish her disillusionment and doubts about the future, I was doomed.
“You better start looking for where to borrow money from,” she went on, “if not many more parents will withdraw their kids from the school and we will be left with.”

It was for this reason that I decided to go and see a school owner who was my mother’s friend.
Someone reminded me of her. She’s a millionaire who has a school in Abuja and who could help me. I really needed help. Most of the people I knew had abandoned me in the cold. There was no place I hadn’t gone to borrow from and ask for help.
“She was a friend of your mother. Go and talk to her. As a school owner herself, she will be able to understand and relate with your plight.” I was urged by a relative.
I decided to go and see the woman the following week and meeting her reduced my age by ten years. She gave me the listening ear and told me about what she herself had gone through in the course of doing her business.
“Listen young man, don’t give yourself headache, this will pass. Just go and do the best you can.” She encouraged me.
No one had spoken to me and given me hope as much as she had done within the period that the school was knocked down. Sometimes if we cannot give people money when they come to us for help, giving them a word of encouragement could do more than magic.
“We are renovating our school.” She told me. “Perhaps we could assist you with our old furniture.”

This was all that I needed; HOPE! On my way out, she gave me two thousand naira for transportation fare.
“Thank you ma’am; may God bless and reward you abundantly.” It meant the whole world to me.
I got home and told my wife about it. I said if we got the furniture as promised by the woman, we could sell half of it and use the money to build a portion of the school to at least regain the lost confidence in the parents of our pupils most of which were surreptitiously planning to leave us.
The news I brought home from the woman made my wife glow and from that day, she began to work hard without complain.
One day, I decided to take her and my daughter along with me to the woman who had promised us furniture. I reasoned that if my wife saw the woman’s school, she would be further encouraged to hold on patiently with me. But that was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.
When the woman saw me, she dropped hail upon my feeble head.
“I don’t like the way you are stalking me. Leave my office. What is wrong with you? You don’t follow me like that or is it a crime to promise to help you?”
I could not believe my ears hearing her hurl those words at me. Dazed, I stood craning my neck in all directions. Finally, I tendered an apology and dejectedly left the office with my wife and daughter.
I have been embarrassed many times in life but that remains the most painful experience for me because it happened in the presence of my wife and daughter. Tears filled my heart but I could not shed them because I must prove to my wife and daughter that I was A MAN. For this reason, I tried to suppress the grief for days. I deleted the woman’s number from my phone after I had sent her several messages expressing how terrible I felt.

After that, I went into prayer and fasting alone for three days. I reasoned that only God could help me not man.
“Show Your mercy. Show Your mercy o God!” I prayed endlessly.
And it happened.

The third day after my fasting and prayer, I was reading a book in which I saw that all O+ blood group people are donors. I am O+. This revealed something to me; told me more of whom I was. Some of us are born to GIVE not to RECEIVE. If you are born to give, don’t ever beg. Just continue to give and things will come your way naturally. All that you need are tied around your ability to give.
“Japheth, you have been asking from people, how many people have you given to yourself? If it’s difficult for you to receive, then give.”
Those were the words that continually echoed in my head.

 That night, I vowed never again to go about begging people to help me. I was going to help people instead. I was O+; a donor!
I prayed fervently in my makeshift school alone that night.
“God, from this moment, I shall continue to make people smile. I know You will not forsake me. I will not beg like a pauper again. I will give from now onwards.”

The next day, I went into the street, picked three children from indigent homes and offered them scholarship to come to school for free. I provided everything they needed.
Two weeks after this, I got a call from a friend. She had a client who wanted someone to work with him as an editor to proofread his proposals and letters.
“You can operate from anywhere Japheth. All that you need to do is get a mail from him, edit and resend.” She told me.
That was it. I had a meeting with the man few days later and he offered to pay me seventy thousand naira as salary. That money was like a million naira. It came at the right time. One day, he called from Illorin asking me to go to his office at Wuse Two to edit something for him.
“I must send it tomorrow,” he told me with a matter of urgency. “Please try and finish it and send to back to me.”
The next day was a Thursday. We were already on holiday. I went to his office and found a proposal he had written halfway in his PC. I began to work on it and spent the entire day on it. I sent it to him around ten O’clock that night. Done, I began to head home.
I was at Berger Junction when his call came.
“I have seen the job. Well-done Japheth,” he told me.

Later he asked where I was. When I told him, he demanded to know if I didn’t have a car.
“I have sold it sir,” I replied. “I shuttle now.”
“Ha, this isn’t good. You can’t be on the road by this time of the night plying commercial vehicles. I will call you tomorrow.”
That was it! He called me the next day and said I should meet his driver for a ‘small package.’ I was at Wuse Two in a jiffy. There, a fairly used car with all the documents was waiting for me!
I went wild with ecstasy.
Many of us cry to men all the time for help without stopping to ask who the people we beg for help cry to. I cannot no longer cry before my fellow man when there is a God I could cry to who is capable of using men to turn things around for me. I rest my hopes on Him and He has never disappointed me. Angels are out there to help us all but we can never meet them until we become angels ourselves. Remember, masquerades know where to find or meet themselves. You can never sufficiently get help from people if you yourself have not been a channel where people less than you could get help.
I have become an angel too since then because I need to meet angels in my life. Since I was embarrassed in front of my wife and daughter years ago, I never rely on man anymore. I give abundantly and angels locate me.
.
.
.
A year and a half later, I employed a driver. He was the man who had come to incite other parents to withdraw their kids from my school; the one who said his daughter would not stay in my makeshift school. It only goes to show that only the Creator could tell what future lies ahead of us. Speak evil to no one because you have no idea what would happen tomorrow.
Hold no grudge against no one if you seek help from them and get insulted. Look up instead and you will be shocked at how much help the Almighty could provide you without stress.
Only those who understand these things live happily in this crazy world of ours where we all strive to be above others; where some wish they were your God!
.Japheth Prosper

ROMELU LUKAKU: I've Got Some Things to Say || Jun 18 2018

I remember the exact moment I knew we were broke. I can still picture my mum at the refrigerator and the look on her face.

I was six years old, and I came home for lunch during our break at school. My mum had the same thing on the menu every single day: Bread and milk. When you’re a kid, you don’t even think about it. But I guess that’s what we could afford.

Then this one day I came home, and I walked into the kitchen, and I saw my mum at the refrigerator with the box of milk, like normal. But this time she was mixing something in with it. She was shaking it all up, you know? I didn’t understand what was going on. Then she brought my lunch over to me, and she was smiling like everything was cool. But I realized right away what was going on.

She was mixing water in with the milk. We didn’t have enough money to make it last the whole week. We were broke. Not just poor, but broke.

My father had been a pro footballer, but he was at the end of his career and the money was all gone. The first thing to go was the cable TV. No more football. No more Match of the Day. No signal.

Then I’d come home at night and the lights would be shut off. No electricity for two, three weeks at a time.

Then I’d want to take a bath, and there would be no hot water. My mum would heat up a kettle on the stove, and I’d stand in the shower splashing the warm water on top of my head with a cup.

There were even times when my mum had to “borrow” bread from the bakery down the street. The bakers knew me and my little brother, so they’d let her take a loaf of bread on Monday and pay them back on Friday.

I knew we were struggling. But when she was mixing in water with the milk, I realized it was over, you know what I mean? This was our life.

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want her to stress. I just ate my lunch. But I swear to God, I made a promise to myself that day. It was like somebody snapped their fingers and woke me up. I knew exactly what I had to do, and what I was going to do.

I couldn’t see my mother living like that. Nah, nah, nah. I couldn’t have that.

People in football love to talk about mental strength. Well, I’m the strongest dude you’re ever going to meet. Because I remember sitting in the dark with my brother and my mom, saying our prayers, and thinking, believing, knowing … it’s going to happen.

I kept my promise to myself for a while. But then some days I’d come home from school and find my mum crying. So I finally told her one day, “Mum, it’s gonna change. You’ll see. I’m going to play football for Anderlecht, and it’s going to happen soon. We’ll be good. You won’t have to worry anymore.”

I was six.

I asked my father, “When can you start playing professional football?”

He said, “Sixteen.”

I said, “O.K., sixteen then.”

It was going to happen. Period.

Let me tell you something — every game I ever played was a Final. When I played in the park, it was a Final. When I played during break in kindergarten, it was a Final. I’m dead-ass serious. I used to try to tear the cover off the ball every time I shot it. Full power. We weren’t hitting R1, bro. No finesse shot. I didn’t have the new FIFA. I didn’t have a Playstation. I wasn’t playing around. I was trying to kill you.

When I started growing taller, some of the teachers and the parents would be stressing me. I’ll never forget the first time I heard one of the adults say, “Hey, how old are you? What year were you born?”

I’m like, What? Are you serious?

When I was 11 years old, I was playing for the Lièrse youth team, and one of the parents from the other team literally tried to stop me from going on the pitch. He was like, “How old is this kid? Where is his I.D.? Where is he from?”

I thought, Where am I from? What? I was born in Antwerp. I’m from Belgium.

My dad wasn’t there, because he didn’t have a car to drive to my away games. I was all alone, and I had to stand up for myself. I went and got my I.D. from my bag and showed it to all the parents, and they were passing it around inspecting it, and I remember the blood just rushing through me … and I thought, “Oh, I’m gonna killyour son even more now. I was already going to kill him, but now I’m gonna destroy him. You’re gonna drive the boy home crying now.”

I wanted to be the best footballer in Belgian history. That was my goal. Not good. Not great. The best. I played with so much anger, because of a lot of things … because of the rats running around in our apartment … because I couldn’t watch the Champions League … because of how the other parents used to look at me.

I was on a mission.

When I was 12, I scored 76 goals in 34 games.

I scored them all wearing my dad’s shoes. Once our feet got to be the same size, we used to share.

One day I called up my grandfather — my mum’s dad. He was one of the most important people in my life. He was my connection back to Congo, where my mum and dad are from. So I was on the phone with him one day, and I said, “Yeah, I’m doing really well. I scored 76 goals, and we won the league. The big teams are noticing me.”

And usually, he always wanted to hear about my football. But this time it was strange. He said, “Yeah, Rom. Yeah, that’s great. But can you do me a favor?”

I said, “Yeah, what is it?”

He said, “Can you look after my daughter, please?”

I remember being so confused. Like, what’s Grandad on about?

I said, “Mum? Yeah, we’re cool. We’re O.K.”

He said, “No, promise me. Can you promise me? Just look after my daughter. Just look after her for me, O.K.?”

I said, “Yeah, Granddad. I got it. I promise you.”

Five days later he passed away. And then I understood what he really meant.

It makes me so sad to think about, because I just wish that he could have lived another four years to see me play for Anderlecht. To see that I kept my promise, you know? To see that everything was going to be O.K.

I told my mum that I would make it at 16.

I was late by 11 days.

May 24, 2009.

The playoff final. Anderlecht vs. Standard Liège.

That was the craziest day of my life. But we have to back up for a minute. Because at the start of the season, I was barely playing for the Anderlecht U-19s. The coach had me coming off the bench. I’m like, “How the hell am I going to sign a pro contract on my 16th birthday if I’m still on the bench for the U-19s?”

So I made a bet with our coach.

I told him, “I’ll guarantee you something. If you actually play me, I’m going to score 25 goals by December.”

He laughed. He literally laughed at me.

I said, “Let’s make a bet then.”

He said, “O.K., but if you don’t score 25 by December, you’re going to the bench.”

I said, “Fine, but if I win, you’re going to clean all the minivans that take the players home from training.”

He said, “O.K., it’s a deal.”

I said, “And one more thing. You have to make pancakes for us every day.”

He said, “O.K., fine.”

That was the dumbest bet that man ever made.

I had 25 by November. We were eating pancakes before Christmas, bro.

Let that be a lesson. You don’t play around with a boy who’s hungry!

I signed my pro contract with Anderlecht on my birthday, May 13. Went straight out and bought the new FIFA and a cable package. It was already the end of the season, so I was at home chilling. But the Belgian league was crazy that year, because Anderlecht and Standard Liege had finished tied on points. So there was a two-leg playoff to decide the title.

During the first leg, I’m at home watching on TV like a fan.

Then the day before the second leg, I get a phone call from the coach of the reserves.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Rom. What are you doing?”

“About to go play football in the park.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Pack your bags. Right now.”

“What? What did I do?”

“No, no, no. You need to get to the stadium right now. The first team wants you now.”

“Yo …. What?! Me?!”

“Yeah, you. Come now.”

I literally sprinted into my dad’s bedroom and was like, “Yo! Get your ass up right now! We gotta go, man!”

He’s like, “Huh? What? Go where?”

I’m like, “ANDERLECHT, MAN.”

I’ll never forget, I showed up to the stadium, and I like pretty much ran into the dressing room and the kitman said, “O.K., kid, what number do you want?”

And I said, “Give me number 10.”

The kitman said, “O.K., kid, what number do you want?” And I said, “Give me number 10.”

Hahahaha! I don’t know. I was too young to be scared I guess.

He was like, “Academy players have to take 30 and above.”

I said, “O.K., well, three plus six equals nine, and that’s a cool number, so give me 36.”

That night at the hotel, the senior players made me sing a song for them at dinner. I can’t even remember what I picked. My head was spinning.

The next morning, my friend literally knocked on the door of my house to see if I wanted to play football and my mum was like, “He’s out playing.” 

My friend said, “Playing where?”

She said, “The final.”

We got off the bus at the stadium, and every single player walked in wearing a cool suit. Except me. I came off the bus wearing a terrible tracksuit, and all the TV cameras were right in my face. The walk to the locker room was like 300 meters. Maybe a three-minute walk. As soon as I put my foot in the locker room, my phone starts blowing up. Everybody had seen me on TV. I had 25 messages in three minutes. My friends were going crazy.

“Bro?! WHY ARE YOU AT THE GAME?!”

“Rom, what is happening? WHY ARE YOU ON TV?”

The only person I texted back was my best friend. I said, “Bro, I don’t know if I’m gonna play. I don’t know what’s going on. But just keep watching the TV.”

In the 63rd minute, the manager subbed me on.

I ran out onto the field for Anderlecht at 16 years and 11 days old.

We lost the final that day, but I was already in heaven. I made good on my promise to my mother and to my grandad. That was the moment I knew we were gonna be O.K.

The next season, I was still finishing up my last year of high school and playing in the Europa League at the same time. I used to have to take a big bag to school so I could catch a flight in the afternoon. We won the league by a mile, and I finished second for African Player of the Year. It was just … crazy.

I actually expected all that to happen, but maybe not so fast. All of sudden, the media was building me up, and putting all these expectations on me. Especially with the national team. For whatever reason, I just wasn’t playing well for Belgium. It wasn’t working out.

But, yo — come on. I was 17! 18! 19!

When things were going well, I was reading newspapers articles and they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker.

When things weren’t going well, they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker of Congolese descent.

If you don’t like the way I play, that’s fine. But I was born here. I grew up in Antwerp, and Liège and Brussels. I dreamed of playing for Anderlecht. I dreamed of being Vincent Kompany. I’ll start a sentence in French and finish it in Dutch, and I’ll throw in some Spanish or Portuguese or Lingala, depending on what neighborhood we’re in.

I’m Belgian.

We’re all Belgian. That’s what makes this country cool, right?

I don’t know why some people in my own country want to see me fail. I really don’t. When I went to Chelsea and I wasn’t playing, I heard them laughing at me. When I got loaned out to West Brom, I heard them laughing at me.

But it’s cool. Those people weren’t with me when we were pouring water in our cereal. If you weren’t with me when I had nothing, then you can’t really understand me.

You know what’s funny? I missed 10 yearsof Champions League football when I was a kid. We never could afford it. I would come into school and all the kids would be talking about the final, and I’d have no idea what happened. I remember back in 2002, when Madrid played Leverkusen, everybody was like, “The volley! Oh my God, the volley!”

I had to pretend like I knew what they were talking about.

Two weeks later, we were sitting in computer class, and one of my friends downloaded the video off the Internet, and I finally saw Zidane smash it into the top corner with his left.

That summer, I went over to his house so I could watch Ronaldo Fenomeno in the World Cup Final. Everything else from that tournament is just a story I heard from the kids at school.

Ha! I remember I had holes in my shoes in 2002. Big holes.

Twelve years later, I was playing in the World Cup.

Now I’m about to play in another World Cup, and you know what? I’m going to remember to have fun this time. Life is too short for the stress and the drama. People can say whatever they want about our team, and about me.

Man, listen — when we were kids, we couldn’t even afford to watch Thierry Henry on Match of the Day! Now I’m learning from him every day with the national team. I’m standing with the legend, in the flesh, and he’s telling me all about how to run into space like he used to do. Thierry might be the only guy in the world who watches more football than me. We debate everything. We’re sitting around and having debates about German second division football.

I’m like, “Thierry, have you seen theFortuna Düsseldorf setup, though?”

He’s like, “Don’t be silly. Yes, of course.”

That’s the coolest thing in the world, to me.

I just really, really wish my grandad was around to witness this.

I’m not talking about the Premier League.

Not Manchester United.

Not the Champions League.

Not the World Cups.

That’s not what I mean. I just wish he was around to see the life we have now. I wish I could have one more phone call with him, and I could let him know …

“See? I told you. Your daughter is OK. No more rats in the apartment. No more sleeping on the floor. No more stress. We’re good now. We’re good …

… They don’t have to check the I.D. any more. They know our name.”


Romelu Lukaku
BELGIUM
Source : The Players Tribune

About the song; When troubles come my way...@adenuga_wale

Good day folks, 

I stumbled on this short piece believed to be written by Songwriter and Singer Wale Adenuga. It reminds me of our hearts disposition when we sing this part. Do you change it to "when Success comes my way" or just sing the usual line casually? Here's an experience by Wale Adenuga;

"I have written a number of songs. But the most popular of them has been Today O! And it's probably the most contentious too. That's because some people don't find it comfortable singing "when troubles come my way".

So it was refreshing when I was contacted by Kent Brantly for permission to have the lyrics of the song published in his new book, CALLED FOR LIFE.

Kent, a medical missionary in Liberia had contracted Ebola. He was the first person with Ebola to be treated in the US when he was evacuated to Emory University.

Dr. Brantly writes "I had marvelled at hearing Liberians sing that song at the top of their lungs, with full recognition of its meaning as they concluded with "When troubles come my way, I will praise you Lord." As they sang, I tried to imagine all the suffering they had endured, with the civil wars...

Reading this humbles me and makes me grateful that God would use me to etch those words."

The Dream After 7

There lived 2 strangers in a house just down the street in a well decorated high brow Estate

They are called strangers because they are "love-lost" couples

These two got married about 7yrs ago, and it was clearly obvious the love was...

...the love in their eyes as they danced out of the reception was real

Though the man struggled with some dance steps, Lara did justice to the digging as she was all over switching from galala to azonto then makosa before shoki

One can almost be decieved by the rays of affection, beauty of smiles on the faces and splendor of the wedding...

The extravagance of the honeymoon of both George and Lara cannot go unemphasized as Lara's father singlehandedly sponsored their trip to the Bahamas

Down the history lane laid sweet stories but not now. These love birds are now strangers living together. Mama Chima and her family are always the culprit of the quarrels of these two strangers. The noise and fights gives Mama Chima's family no peace as they always try to play the peace makers

The Doctor confirmed Lara to be fertile and George has refused to believe he has "issue". 7 years of persistent pleading to God for child. 7 years, George has search for a breakthrough. 7 years, barrenness has torn the family apart. Until...

4 weeks ago,Lara, just when she had lost hope met her former course mate from the same university she studied Accounting. Since she had nothing to loose again,she agreed to follow her friend for a prayer vigil. With little faith in her heart, she prayed and left. Lara had a difficult time trying to convince George for another check up. 

As puzzled as the doctor was, with previous knowledge of their predicament, he read out the result of the test conducted;

"Madam, you are four weeks pregnant" 

This vision-message is a witness
    pointing to what’s coming.
It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait!
    And it doesn’t lie.
If it seems slow in coming, wait.
    It’s on its way. It will come right on time. (Hab 2:3)

DROP THE DEAD WEIGHT!

There comes a point in our life where we really have to consider our lifestyle. How we eat, how we dress, but most importantly, who we hang out with.

I know how it feels to have to kind of cut your self of from friends. But sometimes if you hang around immature losers, you will find yourself in a sticky situation. So please drop the dead weight

One day, I got suspended from school saying something inappropriate. (b*** job). I almost passed out because when I said it, the whole class became quiet. Now what do you think that made me look like. An immature loser of course! I got my self in trouble repeating what another friend said. Guess what, he didn't get in trouble I did.

This was very uncomfortable to talk about with my mom. I think this is because I am trying to become a better Christian, and when you do so, you don't get away with the stuff you used to, but thats another story.

After this incident, I woke up one morning and said "what was I thinkin' ."  I began to investigate would led me to have such a fowl mouth. Then it clicked like a lightbulb . . . Its because of the people I hang around.

These guys I hang with are very negative. You can barely say anything to them without them thinking negative. For example if I say something refering to a test and i say " that was very hard", I think ya'll can read between the lines. Immature losery like, isn't it.

When I returned to school, I have to admit, I began to hang around those same guys. Then I caught myself and I didn't completely ignore them, but I did distance myself. Doing so has changed my lifestyle. I don't laugh at everything, I can be quiet in class, and I have gained respect and dignity for myself and others and have been able to think straighter and pray more effectively. I really thank God for that. People who do not even know about the incident have given me compliments saying you are really turning out to be a real gentleman.

Once again I say, stay away from immature losers so you can stop being one or don't become one. Yes those guys are popular, but since I was one of those guys, I know better. You may feel left out, but after while, feeling better about yourself is much more important, and you get a head start on the maturity us yungins need when we get older. God will be very pleased with you as well.

Yes, I know that I know that I know that I know it is very hard, but drop the deadweight. God loves you and he really wants to bless you and oh he is very real. Yes there are some hard trials, some situations where you might want to question God, but its for the better.

The only reasons God can’t bless you is because of your fear, ignorance, or things that you put in your life that won't let God reach you.

Once again I say please DROP THE DEAD WEIGHT!-Anoynmous

A Surprising Challenge for Worship Leaders

Five years ago, I was helping my mom clean out my grandparents’ house after my papa passed away. I discovered a trove of treasures in my mama’s nightstand: a box full of scripture cards handwritten or typewritten by my mama and organized by theme. This was part of my inheritance and I was delighted to lay hold of it. My mama was a woman of great grace and faith, overflowing with love for the Lord and His Word. She was full of God’s Word too. It flowed out of her in songs and poems she wrote to the Lord, and it filled her conversations with family and friends as she spoke encouraging, timely words to heart after weary heart.

When I found her handwritten card for Isaiah 50:4, it occurred to me that my mama likely prayed this Scripture throughout her life as a believer.

“The Lord God has given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him who is weary. He wakens me morning by morning. He opens my ear to hear as the learned.” —Isaiah 50:4 (NKJV)

Anyone who knew her could testify that God surely answered her prayer for a learned tongue and the ability to speak a word in season to him who is weary. Most everyone who knew her, including me, received such a word in their own seasons of weariness.

Five years ago, I began to pray and ask God to waken me morning by morning and open my ear to hear as the learned so I might also have a learned tongue and know how to speak a word in season to him who is weary. In the past, I’d eagerly, zealously spoken many words, some in season, some untimely, some encouraging, some damaging. But as I continued to grow up in Christ, my heart desired more and more to speak truth in love, to encourage the downcast with God’s life-giving Word and unfailing promises. I was eager to do this in conversations, emails, handwritten notes, blogs, text messages, prayers and songs. But to do that, I realized I must have an open ear and be willing to listen to the Holy Spirit and submit to the study and instruction of God’s Word.

As I’ve revisited this scripture card, which now sits on my desk at work, my heart has been stirred to pray this again, specifically regarding my service as a worship leader. One of my primary functions is to make much of Christ, the Living Word, as I serve my church each week. Another function is to know the people that I’ve been charged to serve. And to know them is to know how weary they are most of the time.

To know them is to appreciate how heavy-hearted many of them are every time we gather. And to be able to serve them well is to have an open ear and a learned tongue that knows, by the Spirit of God, how to speak a word in season to him who is weary. To serve them well is to make much of Christ, the Living Word, who is not silent but always speaking life into every season we journey through.

Worship leaders, would you join me in praying Isaiah 50:4? Invite the Lord to waken you morning by morning, to open your ear to listen like one being instructed, to open your understanding to His will, to give you a well-instructed tongue and fill your mouth with His words of wisdom so that you know how to comfort the weary in your congregations.

As you read all of Isaiah 50, you’ll see that Jesus is speaking in this passage as our example in His own perfect submission to the instruction of the Lord. He, too, was wakened morning by morning, with an open ear and a learned tongue that He might be able to speak a word to our weary hearts in all our seasons of suffering and hardship. He continues to do this as our faithful and perfect Worship Leader, and He calls us to follow Him in service and for the glory of His name.

“The Lord God gave me the ability to teach so that I know what to say to make the weak strong. Every morning He wakes me. He teaches me to listen like a student.” (Isaiah 50:4, NCV)  -Straight From Scripture by Kristen Gilles

Happy Sunday

MY DARK ROOM; What he did:::

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.

I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

My Testimony Of Healing -Pritchard Adams

Pritchard Adams served as a missionary to Haiti for 28 years. He was visiting Canada the morning he felt a pain so severe in his head that he collapsed to the bathroom floor. By the time paramedics arrived, his condition had gotten worse.

His wife Dana sets the scene, “Prit grabbed the back of his neck and his eyes just glazed over and he went unconscious. They immediately put the oxygen mask on him and whisked him away.”

In the emergency room, doctors discovered a subarachnoid hemorrhage; an artery at the base of his skull had burst, filling the space between his skull and the thin membrane covering the brain. Nearly half of all people with a ruptured brain aneurysm die. And those who survive likely have severe brain damage.

“They had to put a drain in his head to draw the blood out of his head. He just had tubes coming out from everywhere,” Dana says. “When I saw the look on the doctor’s face and heard the report of the aneurysm that there were few survivors that survived a brain aneurysm. I knew that things were very, very grave.”

Doctors performed surgery to stop the bleeding. But Prit had already slipped into a coma. They didn’t expect him to live through the night. By this time, people around the globe were praying and fasting for Prit’s recovery.

Dana: “We just immediately started to pray. And decided that we would let the medical community do their job and that we would do the thing that we knew how to do best and that was to stand by his bed.”

Prit survived, but not without complications. His blood pressure soared and he developed pneumonia and an infection. Doctors warned Dana that if Prit had a second aneurysm that he would not survive. Two days later, he went into cardiac arrest, and he had a second artery explode in his head.

Dana turned to prayer. “I knew at that moment that Prit was slipping out of my hands and that if God did not intervene we were going to lose him. Immediately I stood by his bed and I started rebuking the spirit of death. I said, ‘No, you cannot come here. You have no authority in this place.’ And I just began to declare, ‘Life Prit, live Prit live Prit.’”

Doctors resuscitated Prit and began to prep him for the surgery to repair the second artery that had burst. But before they could operate something changed.

Dana: “The neurosurgeon came in and he shook his head and he said, ‘Mrs. Adams, your husband is a perplexity to us. Three times now he has skirted death. We were getting ready, prepping him to take him in to do brain surgery to find out where the hemorrhaging was coming from and an hour ago he started to improve. We do not understand and all we can do right now is just say we will follow his progress.’”

Doctors were not optimistic about his full recovery. Cat scans showed the speech and motor areas of Prit’s brain were badly damaged and that he would have permanent and severe neurological impairment.

Dana reflects. “I got very, very tired, and wept, and wondered how long this trial was going to last. But I always believed that the Lord was gonna somehow heal my husband.”

Dana’s faith never wavered. She reminded God of His promise to take care of them.

Dana prays. “And I said, ‘You said in the day of adversity that I could call on You and today is a day of adversity. I need You and I need You now because there is no hope there is no way my husband is going to come out of this unless You give me a miracle, Lord.’”

On July 27th, 23 days after the first aneurysm, Prit woke up and a few days later he started to speak.

Dana: “We prayed that he would start talking and when he started talking he wouldn’t stop.”

After 52 days in the hospital, Prit left in good condition. Today, Prit has fully recovered except for some short-term memory loss. He walks two miles a day and is looking forward to going back to minister in Haiti.

Prit reflects. “I am more thankful than ever for my wife and for my children, for my family and for my spiritual family that we have in Haiti the churches, the believers that we have. I am thankful for every moment now, for every minute that we have and more than ever before.”

Dana: “I’m grateful that I have my husband back. I’m grateful that I have the father of my children back, my lifelong partner, my soul mate, my best friend. I would encourage whoever received a report that contained no hope for them, to take that report to the Lord. Prayer and the word of God are greater than anything they could face.”
Culled from CBN.com

My Christmas Story!

Yes, its over! The Christmas merriment but lessons have been learnt, memories fresh and I'd like to share my friend's Story. Most fairy tales begin, “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away.” Well, this wasn’t once upon a time, it wasn’t in a land far, far away, and it wasn’t no fairy tale.

It was nine years ago, in a blue house in Abeokuta. And, unfortunately, for me, it was very much true.

This is her testimony;

"Before I moved to the South West, I had such high hopes of what life was going to be like after I graduated university with business degree. A better job. More money. So many things I could do for my son, Michael.

When I dreamt I didn’t see castles in the clouds. Instead I saw a boy on horseback (a vacation at a dude ranch!), tantalizingly tender turkey piled high on a plate (money for entertaining!), and bows dancing, coaxing singing from sighing clouds (symphony season tickets!).

So I worked hard and finished my degree in three years, not four. I had great grades and thought I would have no trouble getting a job.

Well … it didn’t work out that way.

In my case, disappointment followed disappointment. After a few months, my bank balance was about as healthy as a hydrangea bush accidentally watered with hydrochloric acid. Any green that was there had been burnt – ashes blowing in a brisk breeze.

Humiliation became complete in a gray office populated by gray frowning faces. The Harmattan was becoming so serious; A number was called and I was handed an application by the disapproving receptionist. Welfare was the only option if I wanted to feed my 10 year old son.

I didn’t only feel I was a failure, I knew I was one. About as successful as Donald Trump’s comb-over.

I felt even worse just over a year later when I was still without work. And it was Christmas. Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas!

My dream that year was of Christmases past. Christmases with tall trees, festooned with flashing stars of white and bright coloured globes, shiny packages underneath. Family and friends abounding at the table laden with plate after plate of steaming fresh food. Laughter amidst the sounds of Christmas carols.

Christmas – as I had known it in the past.

Yes, I did have a few meager presents for Michael. I had gone without eating for three weeks so that I had the money to buy him something.

I had even taken the Christmas decorations out of their boxes and placed them carefully around the unheated living room. But one corner stood empty. And that emptiness seemed to represent my own failure and emptiness inside.

I didn’t have a Christmas tree.

Now you may be saying to yourself, Christmas trees don’t cost a lot of money. You can get a cheap one for only N5,000. But N5,000 meant a lot for provisions. And that was a fortune when you only had enough money in your food budget for one carton a month.

Seeing my own breath fog in the cold of our living room, I burst into tears.

“Mom, mom, what’s wrong?”

“All I wanted was a Christmas tree. Just a little one. I even prayed that someone would give us one. It would feel like Christmas if we only had a tree.”

“Mom, mom, it’s okay. Why don’t go lie down, have a nap. You’ll feel better when you wake.”

I lay down but I couldn’t sleep. I twisted and tossed, tossed and turned. And I cried some more. But then I heard strange sounds from the other room.

I thought about investigating, about seeing what Michael was up to. But I was too exhausted to get out of bed. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to pretend it was all a bad dream.

I must have slept because I woke up two hours later. I stretched and then stumbled to the kitchen searching for a glass of water.

I didn’t make it to the kitchen. Because I saw tiny lights twinkling in the corner of the now-dark living room.

Behind me Michael exclaimed, “Mom, you don’t have to cry anymore. We don’t have a Christmas tree - but look - we have a Christmas plant!”

I rubbed my eyes to clear them, and I saw that while I had slept, Michael had strung tiny white lights on the tall, green umbrella plant. And then he had placed Christmas ornaments on its outstretched stems.

That Christmas I learned that Christmas isn’t about Christmas trees and Christmas presents. It’s about love. I didn’t have money – or a Christmas tree - but I had a loving son who cared for me, who loved me.

Yes, Christmas is all about loving sons.

The love of my son reminded me that there’s another loving son. Like my son, he cares for me and he gives of himself for me. No, this other son didn’t give me a Christmas tree – or a Christmas plant - but he gives to me a far greater gift – the forgiveness that brings hope and joy – regardless of the circumstances.

My wish to you is that you’ll learn from my lesson. You won’t make the mistake I did and think that Christmas is all about Christmas trees. Instead you’ll remember my story that Christmas is all about the gift of the son.

Happy New Week!

ARE YOU "DEAD"???

Gal2:20;I have been crucified with Christ;it is no longer I who live,but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God,who loved me and gave Himself for me. Gal5:16. I say then: Walk in the Spirit,and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh.17.

For the flesh lusts against the Spirit,and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another,so that you do not do the things that you wish. But if you are led by the Spirit,you are not under the law. 19. Now the works of the flesh are evident,which are: adultery,fornication,uncleanness, lewdness ,20. Idolatry,sorcery,hatred,contentions, jealousies,outbursts of wrath,selfish ambitions,dissensions,heresies,21; envy,murders,drunkenness,reveries and the like; of which I tell you beforehand,just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.22;

But the fruit of the Spirit is love,joy,peace,long suffering,kindness, goodness,faithfulness,23;gentleness, self- control. Against such there i no law.24; And those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.25; If we live in the Spirit,let us also walk in the Spirit. Nkjv.Col3:3. For[as far as this world is concerned] you have died, and your[new,real] life is hidden with Christ in God. Amp. Kenneth.E. Hagin of the blessed memory said after many years in ministry that he discovered that it was his own responsibility to put his flesh or his body under not God. Malice,covetousness,etc are all the outward manifestations of the flesh.

Apostle Paul ended Gal 5:21 with "and the like" which means there are still many other workings and manifestations of the flesh. Heb12:1 says since we have so great or many cloud of witnesses that are watching us,we should set aside all weights and entanglements of sin which easily beset us.

They are the little foxes that spoil the vine and hinders our walk with the Lord. It is our responsibility to keep our body under my beloved brethren. So help us God.
Good morning and have a wonderful week ahead

The interesting last wishes of Alexander the Great.......Read up

The last wishes of Alexander the Great.........
On his death bed, Alexander summoned his army generals and told them his three ultimate wishes:

1. The best doctors should carry his coffin ...

2. The wealth he has accumulated (money, gold, precious stones) should be scattered along the procession to the cemetery ...

3. His hands should be let loose, so they hang outside the coffin for all to see !!

One of his generals who was surprised by these unusual requests asked Alexander to explain .
Here is what Alexander the Great had to say :

1. "I want the best doctors to carry my coffin to demonstrate that in the face of death , even the best doctors in the world have no power to heal .."

2. "I want the road to be covered with my treasure so that everybody sees that material wealth acquired on earth , will stay on earth.."

3. I want my hands to swing in the wind, so that people understand that we come to this world empty handed and we leave this world empty handed after the most precious treasure of all is exhausted, and that is : TIME.

We do not take to our grave any material wealth. TIME is our most precious treasure because it is LIMITED. We can produce more wealth, but we cannot produce more time.

When we give someone our time, we actually give a portion of our life that we will never take back . Our time is our life !

The best present that you can give to your family and friends is your TIME.

My Testimony: What True Love Is..God, He and She!!!

Sarah Adams take you, Lawson Kuti as
my lawful wedded husband, to love and
to cherish, in sickness and in health, till
death do us part” she smiled at him
through her veil.
“You may now kiss your bride Mr.
Lawson” The Pastor beckoned.
Lawson’s heart raced as he gently
unveiled his bride’s face. She looked so
beautiful. He gently bent over and placed
a soft kiss on her lips. Sarah in turn
embraced him tightly with tears of joy
streaming down her face.
“Never leave me Sarah” He whispered in
her ear.
“I will never leave you” she whispered
and they slowly released themselves
from the embrace.
“I present to you the latest couple!” The
Pastor exclaimed excitedly

The church cheered and Sarah cried
more in her husband’s arms.
5 years Later
Sarah silently tip toed behind her
husband. He was in his study, engrossed
in reading. She smiled to herself and
gently covered his eyes with both hands.
“It’s just you and I in this house Sara,
plus, I smelled you the moment you
walked in” He dropped
Sara released her hold, sighed and sat on
the study table, “Why do you figure me
out so easily? I can’t even surprise you!
That sucks” she curled her arms around
his neck.
“You are my wife, nothing you do is
supposed to surprise me” He playfully
pecked her nose.
“But you’ve been in the study all day
and I’m bored!” She rolled her eyes
“So what kind of fun do you suggest we
have then?” He swooped her off the table
in his arms
“No! no that kind of fun!” She hit him
playfully till he put her down.
“Ok”, He folded his arms on his chest,
looking into her eyes, “So what do you
want us to do?”
“Not us. Actually, all I want is to play
with your play station and you’ve hidden
it again! Just give it to me and you can
continue your reading, pleaaaseee” She
blinked her eyes playfully
“No way”, He went back toward his
study chair and sat, “Not my play
station”
“Why! You never let me touch it…like
its your baby” She sulked.
“Well”, he rolled his eyes, “Not like
you’ve given me a baby yet”
Sara paused for a moment. Did he just
say that to her? The words struck her
deep down.
“You shouldn’t have said that
Lawson…” She managed to say, her
countenance changing.
“But it’s true…I’m only saying the truth
Sara” He turned to face her, still sitting
on the chair.
“The truth? You think I don’t want us to
have kids?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying
that…” He stood to face her now.
“Then what are you saying Lawson? Tell
me, what is the truth?”
“Let’s not do this today…please. You
can have the play station and play all
you want. It’s in my footwear locker and
the key is in my Bible.”
“You always do this…hurting me with
your words” Her voice began to shake.
“Don’t start Sara please”
“Tell me why you said those words to
me! I want to know!”
“Because I’m tired! I want to be a father!
I want to have my own kids Sara…” and
you think I don’t?!” Sara flared, trying
not to let the tears pour.
“Then why can’t you get pregnant Sara?
This is the fifth year we are trying.” He
clenched his teeth and walked out of the
study room.
Sara was in shock. She sat on the chair
for some seconds, stood up again and sat
on the chair again…this time she held on
to her blouse and burst into tears.
2weeks after
“Lawson, wake up please” Sara tapped
him
Lawson gently opened his eyes and
looked at the alarm clock by his bedside,
“It’s 2:00am Sara…”
“It’s urgent”
“I’m listening” He said drowsily.
“Mother says we should come for tests.
She says she’s spoken to her doctor and
he said we should come.”
“What?” Lawson opened his eyes now,
“Your mother is in the UK for Christ’s
sakes”
“Let’s just do it. We can go for the
weekend, lets just give it a shot, please.”
“No. That would be rather expensive
and…”
“It’s my birthday today and the only
thing I want from you is this trip”
Lawson fell quiet now. For the past two
years now, his wife’s birthday skips his
mind…totally.
“I’m…I’m sorry Sara…It skipped my
mind…”
“It always does” She lay down back on
the bed, backing him.
Lawson wrapped his arms around her
waist, “I said I’m sorry…”
No response.
Lawson sighed, “Fine, we go this
weekend”
“Really?” She turned sharply, excited.
“If it will make you happy today”
“Thank you baby” She hugged him.
A week after
Sara jerked at the vibration of the phone
in her pocket.
“Hi mom!” she pressed the phone to her
ear with her shoulders, wiping the
washed dishes with her hands.
“Honey…”
“What is it mom?” she pressed it harder
????The result…the result of the tests…”
her mother cried
Sarah gently dropped the plate and the
wiper, heart racing…”Just say it mom…”
That night
“I can never have children Lawson…”
Sara cried
Lawson felt his world crash right in front
of him, “W…what?”
“Mama called today…she’s gotten the
tests results”
“Jesus Christ” Lawson stood, placing his
palm on his head, “b…but you told me
you were ok before we got married, you
told me the doctor said your abortion
didn’t damage your womb”
“Don’t bring my past into this!” Sara
flared.
Lawson laughed and got serious almost
immediately, “You are crazy. I married a
crazy woman!”
Sara looked at him in shock, like he’d
lost his mind.
“The results say you can never have
children and we both know that this has
to do with the abortion you had before
we met!”, he flared, “are you happy?…
you know we’re screwed right? No kids?
what re we going to tell the world?”
“Lawson we can adopt…” Sara cried.
“Adopt? Wow!”, he laughed again, “I
married a funny woman too!” He got
serious again, “Its still not our baby! The
damn baby is not my flesh and blood!
You are full of deceit Sara” He looked
into her eyes. Sara could see him fighting
his tears.
“Lawson stop…you are hurting me…”
Sara fell on her knees crying.
“You want to know what I’m thinking?”
Lawson looked at her with disgust, “I’m
thinking how on earth I’m going to stand
seeing your deceitful face for the rest of
my life”
“Sara cried harder, “Dont give up
Lawson…So far I have a womb…I can
still carry our baby…”
“I am not giving up on having my baby,
I’m giving up on you” Lawson turned
around to leave
“Lawson!” She held his feet, “I’m
hurting too…”
He only dragged his feet from her hold
and drove out of the house. She wept.
A month Later
“Mother, he’s not even talking to me. All
of a sudden we are both strangers…He
doesn’t eat my food, comes home late…
he hates me so much and it’s killing me.
I’m confused…to think that it’s truly
hurting…”
“For how long will you hide this truth
from him. You’ve got to let him know…
you can’t carry his…”
There was the sound of a car horn.
“Mom I’ve got to go…he’s back”
“Baby, you’ve got to let him know. It can
work when you two are one in mind”
“Bye mom” she ended the call.
Lawson came into the house, about to
walk past her.
“Lawson” She held him
“I’m tired” He didn’t want to look at her
face
“I know…can we talk for some
minutes?” She tried to help him remove
his suit
“Look what is it” He jerked from her.
“Do you hate me this much? you can’t
even look me in the eye? you can’t even
stand my sight? Lawson…it’s me Sara…
your best friend…” Her eyes grew moist
“I’m in no mood for this” He turned
around to walk away
“Don’t you dare leave when I’m talking
to you!” She dragged him by the suit.
Just then, some papers fell to the floor.
Sara quickly bent to pick them up…her
hands shook and her body became numb
all over.
“D…divorce papers? Lawson?” She
searched his eyes.
“Answer me goddammit!” She held him
by the collar of his shirt, crying.
“They are for you to sign. I want to be
out” Lawson dropped.
“Y…you what?” she slowly freed him
from her hold.
“It’s not going to work Sara, can’t you
see?”
“Lawson I can’t believe you would think
of a divorce and even go this far…why
are you so wicked!” she cried, angry.
“No! Why are you so wicked!” He
retorted, flaring

“Think about me for once. I am a man for
Christ’s sakes. My children are my pride!
and you are about to deny me that for the
rest of my life because of your stupid
mistake!”
“What about me! have you stopped for
once to think about what I’m going
through”
“It’s your cross, carry it” Lawson fixed
his angry eyes on his wife.
“No, its now our cross and I am not
signing those divorce papers! We vowed
never to leave each other!”
“Isn’t it better Sara that you save
yourself more hurt and sign these papers
than to see another woman move into
this house before your very eyes?” he
said with a tone of sarcasm.
Sara’s heart thumped, “What?”
“You heard me…another woman who
can help raise a family, so save yourself
the stress and sign the damn papers. I
need it tomorrow”He turned around to
leave again
“She still can’t carry your baby” Sara
dropped
“Not all women had abortions. Not every
woman was like you.” He scorned
“You are the one who can’t give me a
child!” Sara let out, crying.
Lawson stopped now, turned around and
walked towards her, “Whatever your
plan is won’t work”
“I told you I could never have a child
because its you who can’t make me
pregnant”
“Shut up! shut up Sara! what the hell are
you saying!” He shook her shoulders
violently

“You are infertile Lawson…the doctor
says you have primary infertility…” Sara
burst into tears
Lawson gasped, loosing his balance.
“Mother called me to give me the news. I
was shattered, I felt like my world was
over but more importantly I thought of
you. I thought of what the news could do
to you, I thought of the best way to tell
you… never for once did i think of
leaving you. I bore your insults, your
scorn, because of my past. It was so easy
to judge me and think of yourself.
I am the one who is hurting, I am the one
who should bring some miserable
divorce papers…but I thought of you…I
thought of hope, faith and a miracle…I
thought of my vow to you on that altar.
In sickness and in health remember?”,
she smiled through her tears, “all of a
sudden you are as weak as a baby…
looking in your eyes, I can see you
suddenly have lost all your guards, You
are so wicked”
“Sara…” Lawson fell on his knees, torn.
“No!” She quickly fell on her knees too,
“No Lawson…” She couldn’t bear to see
him cry
“I’m…I’m infertile”, he cried, “What is
left of me?” he searched his wife’s eyes
“Lawson please…” she held his face, “I
understand…it has been so hard for
me…I have put myself in your shoes
since the first day…”
“You don’t deserve this…you deserve
better…I can’t believe I scorned you all
along…please let me leave you”
“No” she shook her head, “You are my
husband. I won’t leave you. I won’t let
you leave me…I believe in miracles”
“I’m doomed…Sara I’m doomed…”He
allowed his wife take him in her arms
and on her shoulder he wept like a child.
In the Morning
Sara gently opened her eyes, looking
beside her bed…it was empty. She
quickly sat up on seeing a note gently
placed on the bed. Hands shaking, she
opened the letter to read.
Sara,

I cannot bear the shame. I have treated
you so unfairly, yet you love me still,
you are with me even in this condition of
mine. To think that you knew all along
and you never for once gave me a clue
that it is my fault we are in this mess,
makes me so unworthy of you.
I love you enough to let you build
another life with a man who can make
you happier. I’m torn Sara and all I ask is
your forgiveness. I have always loved
you and if you truly love me then please
start your life over again…without me…
I am truly sorry for disappointing you.
Lawson.
Sara couldn’t control the tears. She
couldn’t think straight anymore. She
picked her cell phone, shaking…
“Hi Mr. Lawson’s office please”
“Hi Lola…” she cried, “have you seen
my husband today?”
“No…no ma’am, we’ve been expecting
him at work. He has a presentation is
fifteen minutes”
“Oh God…God…” Sara dipped her hand
in her full hair.
“Everything ok ma’am?”
“Thank you” she ended the call.
She quickly got down from the bed and
in her pyjamas she ran into her car. She
dialed his number repeatedly as she
drove…no answer.

At 2:00pm
She sped into Fred’s compound, a close
friend to her husband.
“Fred!” she banged the door hastily till
the door flung open
“My God Sara what’s wrong?” Fred held
her.
“It’s…it’s Lawson…have you seen him?
is he here?”
“No…Haven’t heard from him in a
week”
“Oh God” she held her hair
“What’s wrong?”
But she was already walking away into
her car.
“Sara!” He called after her.
She zoomed away.
4:30pm
“Mom, Dad, I can’t find Lawson…I can’t
find your son…” she cried as she paced
in front of the two who looked lost.
“You have to calm down and tell us what
happened” Lawson’s mother put her
arms around Sara.
Sara burst into tears, “Please Dad could
you try his number, maybe he’d pick
your call?”
“Have you been to his office?” He
picked his cellphone and dialed his son’s
number.
“I have been everywhere I know him to
be likely available”
“It’s ok…calm down please” Lawson’s
mother pet her.
“He’s not picking. What exactly went
wrong between you two?” Lawson’s
father searched Sara’a eyes
9:00pm
Sara was still in her pyjamas and on her
way back home, exhausted and stuck in
the traffic. She had told Lawson’s
parents everything. The poor couple was
so shattered and also begging her to
begin a new life. Sara buried her head on
the steering, crying; she hadn’t realized
the green light.
“Hey get off the freaking road!” a driver
cursed from behind her
“God please don’t let him harm
himself…keep him safe and lead me to
him…please God…” she quickly started
the car and began to move.
Suddenly she remembered the church
where they wedded and took their vows.
It was two hours from here; she made a
u-turn and headed for the church hoping
to find some peace.
She tiredly got down from the car,
drenched and exhausted. She trudged
into the open entrance of the church. She
paused for a moment; shocked…it was
Lawson sitting at the front row of the
empty church, facing the altar.
“Lawson!” She began to run towards
him, happy, relieved that he was ok.
“Sara?” He quickly stood as she
approached him, “Sara…”
They both ran into each other’s arms. He
hugged her so tightly
“I looked for you everywhere….thi s was
the last place I thought you’d ever be…I
just came and I saw you…Lawson….I’m
so happy you are ok” she touched his
face
“I didn’t know where else to go…It just
feels like I cant face the world
anymore…” he slowly released her from
his embrace.
“Take my hand” Sara stretched out her
hand, “C’mon, just take it”
Lawson gently clasped his hand into hers
and she took him to the altar and stood to
face him. She searched his eyes so
deeply and hadn’t seen him so weak and
helpless.
“Five years ago Lawson, we both stood
on this altar. Remember our vows?

Remember you whispered in my ear
never to leave you. I told you I
wouldn’t…that’s why I’m here. I am
your wife Lawson, I am meant to be with
you forever, though the bad and good
times. We’ve had good times, why would
I leave you now? All I want from you is
to believe that you can still give me a
child despite what the result said…I want
you to believe in a miracle”, she held his
face, “remember when you told me I was
a miracle in your life?…our children will
be our miracles too. Trust God with me
because I know it won’t be long…”
“Who are you Sara…” Lawson was weak
with her words.
“The one who vowed to be with you till
the end” she smiled through her thin
tears
“God I love you so much Sara” He
hugged her again.
“So will you come back home with me?”
Sara searched his eyes.
“I have no other place to call home” He
placed a soft kiss on her lips.
2 years after
Lawson and Sara were on the sofa
watching a late night movie. Sara was
resting on his shoulders when she felt the
movement
“Lawson Lawson, it moved again…don’t
miss it this time touch touch” she gently
placed his palm on the side of the
stomach. Both felt the movement of their
child
“I can feel him…I can feel him” Lawson
placed his head on her belly
“I can feel him growing each day inside
of me…”
“What do you think its saying now by
this movement?”
“Thank you dada for believing in me”
she laughed. They both laughed “The
movement has stopped” he slowly
removed his head from her stomach, “I
think he’s sleeping”
Sara rested on his shoulders again, “In
six months you’d be a father, “You
finally got your miracle”

Lawson tilted his wife’s face to him,
looking into her eyes, “Sara…you were
the miracle I needed. Thank you for not
leaving me.”
Sara tickled his nose with hers, “I love
you too. Always will”, she smiled, “We
missed a whole lot on our movie”
“Movie can wait, but this can’t” He
gently planted a kiss on her belly.

5 Valuable Life Lessons My Mom Taught Me.

My family has been a very important element in my faith and growth in Jesus Christ. I count it a huge privilege that both my mom and dad were strong in their faith and tried to put Christ first in everything they did. This came across to me loud and clear as I grew up in a strong family of faith. My mother was the one that led me to Christ at the tender age of five years old. I remember coming home from church and feeling uneasy about what I had learned that morning and asking my mother to talk to me. She took the time to sit me down and explain God’s plan of salvation to me and she led me to Christ that day.

My mom went home to be with the Lord seven years ago and I miss her every day. When you have someone you love die and go home to be with Jesus it is sad but happy at the same time. You are very sad that they are gone but you know that they are with Jesus and that is an awesome and comforting thought. There are many lessons that my mother taught me but these five are especially memorable to me.

1. Put God first in your life

This first point is the big umbrella under which everything else falls. My mom showed me this on a daily basis. She had a walk with God that was evident to me even from an early age. This was evident in everything our family did as we never scheduled anything that would conflict with things going on at church. God truly needs to be first and at the center of our lives if we are to live according to His plan and His will.

2. Eat dinner together every night

This may seem like a strange lesson but let me explain. My mom made family dinner a priority every night. I am the 4th of 5 children and we were involved in sports, cheerleading (my sister was not me), band, jobs…etc. We were a very busy family that always seemed to be on the run. Yet, my mom made it a priority that we have one meal together each night. Now, as a 47 year old adult, I look back and see the wisdom and blessing that this priority made. My brothers and my sister and I remain very close (even though we live far apart) and they all have dropped everything to be with one in need. Mom taught us that God was first but family was a very strong priority and by eating together regularly each day, we grew a bond that has been a model for me to take to my own family.


Mom taught us that God was first but family was a very strong priority and by eating together regularly each day, we grew a bond that has been a model for me to take to my own family.

3. Stay humble

Mom was a very humble servant and loving wife. She was a friend to many other women in the church. She was a Sunday school teacher and she sang in the choir but she truly was a helpmate to my father. My dad was heavily involved in the leadership of the church and he seemed to always be at church either for a meeting or planning or something but he was always there. Mom was more behind the scenes but was equally vital and important not only to our family but too the church as well. She showed a humility even in her last days of fighting cancer when this terrible disease can take away your strength, your dignity, and your life. I remember one moment fondly just a few days before she would die. I was sitting with her in her bed as she was on hospice and was very weak and there was a laundry basket nearby with clean but unfolded laundry in it. She looked at it and said that she wished she had the strength to fold the laundry. She was humble and wanted to serve even when she was in the final hours of her life.

4. Love the world

My mother had a true love for the world. Mom always gave someone the benefit of the doubt and would help out those in need. She had a love for those around her that was inspiring to me. She cared especially for the younger children in our neighborhood. We had something called “Bible Club” in our home for many years. This was a club in which mom would teach me and my friends a Bible story using flannel graph and telling a story that we could understand. Most of my friends were not church people so this was a great way to show the love of Jesus to our friends. Our house always was the “hub” of the neighborhood. Every wiffle ball game, every basketball game, every football game…happened at our house. Our grass had worn out spots for where the baseball bases were placed and mom’s flowers never looked the best (as the landscaping area was a double) but my friends felt safe and wanted to be at our house. Mom always made lunch or snacks and she is the one that made that happen. Looking back now some 40 years later, I want my house to be that house too. I want my son’s friends to want to be at our house. I want to grow in my love for my neighbors and someday be like my mom.

5. Invest in others

Our lives our empty and without life unless we invest in the lives of others. My mother taught me that over and over. I already mentioned how she invested in the other neighborhood kids and how she invested in our family but mom invested in many others as well. She was part of a women’s Bible study approximately 50 years ago (before I was even born) that continued for about 20 years. This was way before the current church trend towards Bible study. She often hosted this group and was a regular teacher and gave of her time and efforts to invest in these women. She also became a mentor for some other women in the church that were going through difficult times. Mom was easy to talk to and a good listener and many women gravitated towards that. Jesus showed this picture by investing in the “12” and even investing more intentionally in Peter, James, and John. We need to invest in other people to show the love of Christ to all. Mom did that.

This short list of lesson that mom taught me was in some ways easy to write, as many lessons quickly came to mind. I am eternally thankful to God for giving me Christian parents that pointed me and showed me the way to follow God. I hope you have been blessed. Happy Weekend -{Anonymous}