Posts tagged Christian

My Parable of the parable.

Life Diary The Christian Faith 10 Comments

Guys, read this:
Luke 15: 8-10

“Or what woman, having ten [silver] drachmas [each one equal to a day’s wages], if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and look carefully and diligently until she finds it?
9And when she has found it, she summons her [women] friends and neighbors, saying, Rejoice with me, for I have found the silver coin which I had lost.
10Even so, I tell you, there is joy among and in the presence of the angels of God over one [[e]especially] wicked person who repents ([f]changes his mind for the better, heartily amending his ways, with abhorrence of his past sins).

I now understand the parable of the lost coin better. I’ll explain.

Two weeks ago I wrote something important in this big notebook in the picture. A week later, I needed to use the information. I couldn’t find the book. I was surprised. I wasn’t careless with it at all. I was even sure it never left my room. Still, I didn’t locate the book. Life went on without that information.
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Early this morning, while preparing to go with a group of people for a conference, I began to search for “the parable of the dollars” in that picture. I bought this book three weeks ago. I read the preface and was happy it’s a loaded book. I hoped to read it later. Today would’ve been the ‘later’. I’d just read it when I’m less busy during my outing.
.
However I couldn’t find the book. A complete mystery. I searched my book pile over and over again. It was obviously not there but my eyes would not receive that report. My eyes kept going over each of the books. It troubled me a lot. I can’t lose my books. I didn’t give it to anyone. Where is my new book?
.
I recieved a call that the group I was to go with was ready. I left unsatisfied and the first thing I told my friend when I saw her was “I can’t find my book”. That was my preoccupation for a long time. My missing book.
Tonight, I searched again. Still missing from my book pile. Then I got on all fours and pulled out a drawer of another completely different set of books.
Finally, both of these books were buried under those books.
.
I rejoiced. The first thing I did was take a picture and type to the same friend on whatsapp “I’ve found my books”.
Then I understood.
If scripture says the woman lit up a lamp, took a broom and swept everywhere carefully and diligently until she found the lost coin, then it must be true.
She didn’t think “I have other coins“. I also didn’t think “I have other books”. I didn’t say this book is worth just a little amount and I’ll replace it. I did everything for it.
One book but every one book matters to me.
One soul but every one soul matters to God. When I found it, I, immediately in a spirit of merriment, took a picture and sent it to my friend. I was in essence saying come and rejoice with me. Again, I’m telling you all, come and rejoice with me. I’ve found my missing book that matters to me. I’m serious.
But beyond that, does the whole of heaven really do what I did? Does the host of heaven go down all all fours, digging and digging and digging for one soul? Searching for “just” one sinner?
Did they do that for me? Are they doing that for you or for that person you love?
Wow.
Wow.

And what’s up with this rhyme, people? The book is “the parable of dollars”, in reference to the story of the parable of talents in the bible.
The story I quoted in the post above is the parable of the lost coin. My own experience is the parable of the lost book. ?
Please rejoice with me. And forever remember how interested heaven is in you and yours. Just remember all fours!

A Fresh Perspective of Heaven!

The Christian Faith

Hiii Precious people. Debby here again.? I’d love to know some more about my silent blog readers. If you won’t comment, make efforts to say hi by using the ‘get in touch’ option in the drop down menu Enjoy this read on heaven.

Something divinely inspired always leaves a trail in its wake. You know in the subsequent years that it was no ordinary act.
This is my line of thought as regards this song “ijoba orun“. I guess most Nigerians know the song I’m referring to. It’s a Yoruba song which reigned some seven or eight years ago. It was so popular, and almost everywhere you went someone’s phone rang and it was their ringtone.
It was also the cliché choreography music for children and teenagers in every church. It was everywhere. It spoke to us all.
I listened to the song some minutes ago and I still am as I type this. This is a link to it on YouTube to refresh your spirit.
It reminds me wholly of two messages I listened to last week preached by Pastor Sarah Omakwu, Senior pastor of Family worship Center, Abuja (Messages one and two). She emphasised in both messages how the subject of heaven is rarely ever a topic in our Sunday messages anymore. Heaven is a beauty. It’s our reward as faithful chrisrians, its our place. It’s where I aspire to. I don’t just want dominion here on earth, I also want to reign with Jesus in heaven. You know what scripture passage best exemplifies this?

1corinthians 15:19 “if in this world only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men to be pitied”

It means if all our Christianity would do for us is grant us victory down here on earth, we’re the most miserable of all men. We go through so much for that to be all. I don’t just have financial victory and physical health, some unbelievers achieve that. I have hope beyond here! And so do you as a Christian. I have hope beyond here!
A great crown of glory awaits me in heaven. It’s my habour. It’s where I get to have the beautiful and engaging conversations I love to have, and it will be with Abraham, and Daniel and Deborah. It’s the place where I see Jesus.
I think we must never lose touch of home. That’s why it’s home. When you’ve lost touch, it’s no longer home. When it’s no longer the place of your best memories, when you don’t have loved ones there, it’s not home. Heaven is my home. I’m only an ambassador on here, this is temporary and I must not lose sight of that.

Matthew 6:19 (New International Version)

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.”

God bless the music artist(Lara George) that composed that song. Listen to it again, will you?
What do you think?
Peace and love,
Debby.

The abolitionists did a good work?

The Christian Faith 6 Comments

He that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad.
I had just completed viewing the movie – AMAZING GRACE and I couldn’t but think about the countless number of times Christians sing the hymn without knowing it’s history. It’s a song borne in the deep throes of slavery; a song also of bravery; and importantly, a song of surrender to God.
I’d write a recommendation blog post for the movie soon. It’s a true life story.
Wilberforce surrendered to God. ‘Old man’ did too.
The movie inspires the viewer to be better. To do better. To be brave, to fight for the voiceless around them. Most of all, to GIVE for causes worth giving for. I moved to shut down my laptop so I can work on rearranging my books, then I saw my screensaver. On it was displayed a scripture passage. This:

”Anyone who is not for me is really against me; anyone who does not help me gather is really scattering.” Matthew 12:30.

The great feat accomplished in that movie as regards slave trade was only on account of Wilberforce’s partnership with God.
I once read a book on the abolition of slave trade which has some reflection in that regard. So then when you read of it all, know that some of those who played vital roles did that when they chose to ‘gather’ with God.
No matter what I do friends, no matter what it is, once I do it in my own strength, once I don’t do it with God (even if I’m not deliberately out against him), what I really am doing is against him. If I don’t gather with him, what I’m doing is scattering.
Scattering. I can advocate a million times on this blog for right living in hopes that somehow I’m changing one person’s mind-set, of which if just one person gets changed all of the time I put up a post, we may indeed discover we have a better world. But then, if I advocate for right manners, human compassion, human rights, all outside of the one in whom all things consist, I’m scattering.
Scattering. If I speak the tongues of a thousand angels and have not love I’m like a clanging cymbal*.
Love. What is love? Is it speaking up against slave trade? Talking about genocide?
GOD IS LOVE. His will is that all these things which I want to stop, indeed stop. But if I advocate for all these things(synonymous with having the tongue of angels) without God who is love, it equals to ”clanging cymbal”. And how I’d hate for this blog to be just another source of noise. Screeching, grating, awful noise to the hears of the God of all flesh. Just a clanging cymbal in the grand scheme of things.
Friends, clothe yourself with compassion and seek to be a better person, but any betterment you aim for outside of Christ; you’re scattering the very things he’s gathering. Otherwise put, you’re doing the reverse of your good works because all he does, are good works, and all he’s ever done before you were conceived is good works.
My submission: let everything you do be in him. What does that mean? Let him be the boss of you. If he says no concerning decision A, it’s no. If he says yes to decision B, it’s yes. To know for sure what he says no to and what he says yes to, you need to study the scriptures.
I, for one, am not out to scatter. Nor to be another source of noise. I’m out for real change, and that, through this blog.
I pray none of my blog readers, scatters. Lets gather with him. Team up with him. Follow him.
Let’s continually affirm that ”Jesus, you’re the boss”.
*1 Corinthians 13:1. AMP
If I can speak in the tongues of men and even of angels, but have not love(that reasoning, intentional, spiritual, devotion such as is inspired by God’s love for and in us), I am only a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.
With great love,
Debby.
What do you think? Ever read about the abolition? P.S I reviewed a book on slavery in Africa here.

Casual Catch up

Life Diary Non-Fiction The Christian Faith

Hello people.
How are you on this side? I’m well. I couldn’t put up a post last week because I was on an easter outreach at Benin republic. Read about it here.
I could’ve roamed my sim card, but there’s no use browsing at all during an outreach. Let’s focus on winning souls for Christ.
I had earlier tried to schedule a post but it didn’t work out.
I’m on my way right now to another outreach. This one is a medical outreach which holds once a month. It’s a return trip.
How have I been? Very well.
You? I’ll love to hear in the comment section.
Nothing much for today, this is only a casual blog post chat.
A life well lived as someone said isn’t just one that fulfils purpose but one that leads others to fulfil purpose.
One thing I know is when you are fulfilling your own purpose, you’re in a sense leading others to fulfil their purposes. There’s so much distraction today and when we find that one person dogged in their vision, we are motivated to keep to ours too.
In other words, be the best verion of yourself that you can be. Shine that light.
P.s: This is one of my shortest blog posts ever(I really don’t know why I often write epistles). Which should lead you to reading previous blog posts that you’ve missed by scrolling through the categories at the top of the page.
Warmest regards,
Debby.

Sleeping Jesus, Bleeding Professional.

The Christian Faith 10 Comments


Matt 8:24-27 CJB
Then, without warning, a furious storm arose on the lake, so that waves were sweeping over the boat. But Yeshua was sleeping. 25 So they came and roused him, saying, “Sir! Help! We’re about to die!” 26 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? So little trust you have!” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and there was a dead calm. 27 The men were astounded. They asked, “What kind of man is this, that even the winds and sea obey him?”
Mark 4:37-41 KJV And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. 38 And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish? 39 And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. 40 And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith? 41 And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?
It was a big boat we sailed in this time around on our way to Gadarenes, east of the sea of galilee. Peter was in charge. We had gone some distance when the storm hit. From my years of experience on the sea of galilee as a fisherman and with the grit I saw on peter’s face, it was evident we needed Yaweh’s help.
We could all sense from some signs even as we set off earlier that there would be a storm, but we thought it would be as all other times. Moreover, we knew how desperately Jesus needed to rest, so we got away. With the violent rocking of the boat, Jesus stayed unshaken, he definitely needed the rest. I glanced at him and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and the wind lifting his hair as though in a stage play.
With the increasing persistence of the storm, we’d all at different times glanced at where he lay and left him undisturbed, no one did the waking. He deserved the rest. He’d taught the beatitudes to the large crowd, taught on vows, adultery, anger and others; As we descended from the mountain certain that we were going to rest, a leprous man who couldn’t interact with people according to the law, and which prevented him from listening on the mountain, came beseeching Jesus; A Roman officer had followed immediately; We had also been to Peter’s house and Jesus healed his mother-in-law, it was only there in Peter’s house he was able to eat his first meal of the day; next, the sick people came en-masse; not to forget the numerous people who had questions about following him. It was late evening now and he had taught and healed the whole day.
I snapped from my line of thought as I saw a high wave heading our way. It was hard to not envision the miraculous yet dreadful walls of water the Israelites passed through when Moses led them. ”Yaweh” I breathed in a rush. Andrew, who was beside me, knelt in fearful awe. The boat rocked and all the vessels in the boat rolled, their content spilling. Peter barked out some orders and we all hurried to stabilize the boat. The flood of water washed over us, drenching everything that wasn’t already dripping wet from the massive outpouring of rain. Now in the boat, was enough water to wade past our ankles. I shared a look with Andrew: this was all bad. In the sky, lightening kept flashing, and the thunders didn’t cease. Peter’s commanding cries were drowned in the noise of it all, we all just did what we thought we should do, and frantically.
The storm remained fierce.
The waves began to rock the boat off direction completely, and it spun on its axis till we couldn’t keep up with our direction in the middle of the sea anymore. My hands were bleeding from holding the sheet tight and I wasn’t conscious that someone had gone to wake Jesus until I heard his voice right behind me. As I jerked from the surprise of hearing his voice, the sheet slapped in the wind. ”About time Lord. We are going to perish” Bartholomew Said ”Save us lord!” ”we are about to die!” He stood resting one hand on the boat’s halyard, his cloak was flying revealing his woolen tunic. He gazed at each one of us in the eye, his face straight but the warmth of it could not be denied. ”why are you so frightened?” he answered to all pleas. As though in answer to his question, another wave rose, this one extremely high and it approached with the loudest of howling sounds, crushing the smaller waves which lay before it. All eyes darted to Jesus and back to the wave. ”what little faith you have!”
I wasn’t sure if I was the only one who heard him because he stood right by my side, or if his voice was loud enough to carry over the thunder to the others. What little faith? Jesus fixed his gaze on the approaching wave. Eager faces, trade-marked with worry-lines looked at him when he opened his mouth to speak, and this time, Jesus’ voice carried louder than all noise. That authority which we never could deny erupted, as he looked straight at the wave about to crush us and said ” Peace. Be still” Instantly, the wave slept. SLEPT. I’m always right back on that boat when what was to be the tool of our destruction became a pet before us. The water hissed and fell. Everything around responded. The thunders and lightening stopped, the rain reduced to a drizzle then ceased, the sun rose slowly over the once overcast sky. The boat rocked like it was a baby cradled by the arms of its mother, all violence gone. ”ah” I gasped, I couldn’t otherwise be persuaded of what had just happened before my eyes. It transcends description. Everyone was amazed.
”what kind of man is this? ” I said And one after the other, we all dropped to our knees; and this time, we did so not in fear of the waves, but out of a deep seated realization that nothing defers Jesus. ”even the wind and waves obey him” I muttered. I began to shiver: not from cold but from the power of the man who slept through the storm while we frenzied with bleeding hands. I shivered at the sight of the one who quieted looming death with a sentence.
On that day, I decided I would never again let him sleep while I bleed. It’s either of two things; we sleep together, or we bleed together, and I think he prefers sleeping in the storms of life. I believe him because I may be a professional fisherman, but even on the sea, he is the king.
Hello. Phew! Let me know your thoughts on this post. I was a little excited creating this blogpost. And boy, did it task me. I did a bit of reading on boats, storm etc, particularly how it operated over 2000 years ago. Not to mention reading that bible passage in different translations and in different gospel books. In other words, I must know your thoughts. And you must share. Hope you’re well. Also, do share your plans for the weekend. I’m mostly reading books and setting up my new phone. I plan to type up some blog posts this coming week too. Take care!
Peace and Warmth,
Debby.

Fiction: Patient Shoulders

Fiction 4 Comments

She felt it would last forever; the imminent separation. She did not want to face the implication of his leaving. She did not want to address the lump in her throat. She sat silently in the back seat of the car as her father drove steadily to the airport.
She’d thought she was certain where they were headed before now. She hated, with a blend of tolerance, the inability to read Sola’s mind at certain moments. He looked on ahead, sitting at the front seat beside her father, his chin lifted, just as the radio in the car droned on.
To think she couldn’t bring herself to stop liking his personality no matter what. She wanted to cry.
She felt the unease occasioned by her defiant silence shift to wrap itself around her father but Sola will seem immune. Her father impulsively tapped the steering wheel as he began to speak again, stopping to clear his throat
” so have you heard any other news about your father?”
“No sir,” Sola replied steadily “it’s the same.”
“ God will intervene” her father said.
“Amen”
She gazed out the window in despair.
At the airport, her father double checked the car security before they walked down to the terminal. Sola checked in his ticket and from where she sat with her father, she saw him speaking to the lady behind the counter in his easy manner. The lady cracked a smile. Walking back to where she sat with her father, he looked at them both and nodded. “I’m set to go”

“Okay then my son. Keep in touch” her father said and patted his back in a brief hug, smiling.
This time her eyes would not be averted. She looked at him, appearing bolder than she felt. She gave a small smile. He didn’t. He stepped closer and put both his hands around her shoulders to hold them in a comforting manner. She did not want comfort, anything but comfort, as her head throbbed with the onset of an headache. His grip was firm but not hard.
” you take care of yourself. You deserve care.”.

Three months later, She was walking down her street having bought soft drinks for the visitors they were to host in the evening.
For no reason at all, it came into her mind what Sola had last said to her: <i>you deserve care.</i>
Inadvertently, she snorted. It had been three 'almost-relationships' in her life and she was fatigued. She was prejudiced about relationships and on a whole, world-weary but she didn't know how to help herself. Her father who knew the level of her closeness to Sola had not known how to either, but he still tried to encourage her gently. Iyanu was past words of encouragement. She wasn't sure she could even enter into any relationship successfully without a nagging fear that it would crash. She felt her own anguish and wished for a motherly advice.

The visitors they were expecting arrived in two cars. A metallic silver honda accord and a white Mercedes benz. She was in the kitchen frying the last round of plantain to go with the jollof rice when Dele, the adopted help, went to open the gate. She took a break to briefly view them from the window at the sitting room before returning to the kitchen.
Her father soon joined the three men and two women. Greetings and laughter followed.
~~~
Iyanu left the door to her room wide open once she’d served them their food and her father had introduced her as his daughter. With the door open, the visitors’ voices carried softly to where she was. The conversation after they’d eaten the food she served wielded itself from the upcoming elections to the issue of politics in the church, and then to Christian virtues. It was on this subject: Christian virtues, that they dwelt the longest.
Iyanu could guess it was the tall woman who was speaking at the moment about Elizabeth, wife of John the Baptist.
“But you see that with all our bible knowledge these days, virtues like patience seem to have taken the backseat. Some people argue that if you have faith everything comes extremely fast. Quite true, but we must know the exceptions.
That wasn’t the case for Zechariah and Elizabeth. Elizabeth was old before she conceived. ‘Stricken in age’, the bible puts it”
The woman’s tempo was going down and Iyanu, very much interested, rose from her bed where she had propped herself against the wall, using her pillow. She took her plastic chair and sat by the door to her room for better audience.
“…Heaven knew the right specifications for the woman who was to birth Jesus on earth. We were waiting for that Mary and so God kept Elizabeth childless for that purpose. Elizabeth had proven she wouldn’t disappoint him. How many could do that?

They were stricken in age but she had come to understand like the three Hebrew boys that Faith is steadfast even if the answer from heaven doesn’t seem favourable at that time. If it doesn’t come from God, I don’t want it.
“Elizabeth was to birth the forerunner of Christ, a very important role and God trusted her well enough that until Mary is ready, she’d wait on him. Until the appointed time. Until Mary hits puberty. Until she’s old enough to be engaged to Joseph, Elizabeth wouldn’t lose faith. He knew she would not stop loving him because the promise was yet to surface. It was a step-by-step leading, one not moved by time and season. The beauty of it all is that God could depend the plan of salvation on her patient shoulders.”

In the distance the wall clock ticked a bit loudly.

In other news, Happy International women’s day.
Do share your thoughts and subscribe.
As always,
Debby.

Boarding House Reflections (2)

Guest Posts 13 Comments

Hello good people. Thanks for all the love you’ve been showing on the blog. It does matter. Bloggers always appreciate comments, on and offline. Though you should always feel free to comment on the blog. It springs up conversation and makes it a lively page. Merci beau coup.
Today, someone else is sharing her school reflections with us on here.
Sharon is one girl with whom I used to gist for hours back in the days. She had this celebrity bunk bed while in ss3. She used to daydream there. Since she had no bunkmate, she removed the matress and wooden planks on top and would gaze up at the decking, mapping out her future husband and children. I was always welcome to lie on the bed with her and go to lala land.
I can relate to some of her experiences on here and I was just laughing while reading it. I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. Thank you Sharon for agreeing to write. 
She is a spoken word artist.
***********************************
MY SECONDARY SCHOOL DAYS! THE CONS AND PROS OF BEING AN EXECUTIVE OF THE FELLOWSHIP AT CHAPEL SECONDARY SCHOOL. 
In case you don’t get it, the name of the school had to be included in the title because Chapel secondary school located in Kwara state is arguably one of the most ‘spiritual’ (religious) schools in Nigeria, when you exclude convents and seminaries?
Therefore, when you apply for admission into this School,  it is expected of you to know and understand that you have invariably agreed to surrendering your life to Jesus. So being an executive in the Fellowship of this school should mean that you are sitted with Christ in the heavenly places? No more, No less! 
So what were the Pros and Cons of being a religious head as a young Secondary girl? Join me!
Let me take you one year before I became an executive, my junior secondary School years, JSS3 to be precise. I was a lively girl; not the prettiest nor brightest in class (maths was and still is a problem) but I was friends with almost all. I never knew what if felt like to have a crush until then. This boy who was a very good friend of mine gave me two cards for Christmas.
My first gift from a guy! you have no idea what that meant. Someone, a human being, thought of me and then carried his legs and went to buy cards for me, you can laugh now,  but it wasn’t so much a joke for 10 year old me. I held them to my chest, I would read the words every night and think about them. By the way, the words on the card were about the birth of Jesus ? I don’t know how they were making me feel mushy mushy (emotional)?
I tell you,  when you are in love, you’re just stupid (full stop) 
Now, I can say this was my first real attempt at heart matters; feelings, crushes and all and it didn’t last; Why?
If I remember well,  people were saying stuff. You know how Secondary School people are. A friend will come and say
“I heard he told one of his friends that you are cheap”,
 you will hear another girl say that another girl said that
“Sharon that does not have sense, she thinks he likes her”
Oh Girls! They can ruin marriages. ??? 
I remember telling a friend back then that if there could be so much drama when we weren’t even in a relationship, what will happen if we were more.
So, I started keeping my distance and moving farther away from him. It really wasn’t any big deal, even he had moved on and then I moved into the boarding house, in my Senior Secondary School year 1 and this is where the story begins. 
Just as I got into the senior class,  I became reserved. Was it because I moved into the hostel? I don’t think so because I remember on the first day of school that year, people were asking me, 
‘what’s wrong with you?’
‘why are you quiet’
 and I remember I kept answering in all sincerity that there was absolutely nothing wrong. Some of my teachers even thought I had a terminal sickness like cancer or something. My walk became slow, I became less chatty but I can’t trace it to the fact that I moved to the hostel because whenever I was in the hostel, I was more lively, at least a little more. I will chat and make jest with friends and juniors, about boys and other stuff
Now I was to be considered for the post of being an executive in the School’s fellowship, this was the second term of the school year. This was going to change my life forever. How:
Firstly,  because you would almost become socially dead? 
As an executive, not only do people automatically assume an air over your life,  you also naturally get to have some changes in your life. Many people will say this change is called ‘being fake’ but perhaps not for everyone.
For example, I was made the Assistant prayer Coordinator, this meant that Fridays which every school Student used to look forward to as the fun day since it was the end of the week and you will walk to the  road with your pals or that guy you liked; it wasn’t the same for me.
As an executive, one will sometimes have to skip classes in the morning so as to arrange the hall for the School fellowship which held every afternoon. I remember my mathematics teacher always complained about me being unserious because it happened to be that his classes fell into the morning period. Also, after fellowship, you’ll clean up the hall and then as the Prayer unit head which I was, we would have our weekly prayer meeting, which could run for about two hours or more (more actually), into the evening. We actually did love it! We were like this clique, we will gist, make jest, and though our lives were not to the admiration of others but we really were fine. By evening time, my mates in the hostel are already done strolling round the school hand in hand with their crushes or chilling out, catching up with the guy they liked but I wasn’t even given that luxury. Not because I didn’t have a crush.
Oh I did,  let’s talk about him!
Dark, well built, Big boy gait, he was a year my senior. You see, even as an executive, I had my eyes fixed on the Lord and the corner of my eyes fixed on the boy??? Hallelujah.
Now,  he wasn’t an executive. He  was one of those guys people will call a ‘bad boy’. You know,  back then in school, as long as you really weren’t an executive,  you had the tendencies to be called a bad boy or a bad girl,  For no reason! ? or simply because you were being a youth of your age, liking a guy or being in a relationship. 
Now, this guy never looked at me twice, he couldn’t have! I didn’t even used to dress cute and nice, I didn’t used to walk like a girl, I still don’t. People say I bounce, it’s so embarrassing and I’ve tried but you see if it’s not in you, it’s not in you. 
You know, there were girls who used to dress well and girly, nice hair do, little make up (cos my School will slaughter you if you had much make up). I was on a freaking low cut! I would hardly use powder, not because I had a problem with it but because I just didn’t think about it, not even because I was caught up in my responsibilities as an executive. There were executives who were better and more pleasing to the eye?.
 Even if all things were being equal and this guy noticed me, there was no way any thing could have happened because as I have written earlier, there is a natural assumption made over you once you are an executive. Some would even say it’s hard to believe you like anyone,  like you are without emotions and feelings and also,
HOW CAN YOU, AN EXECUTIVE IN CHAPEL SECONDARY SCHOOL THINK OF GOING INTO A RELATIONSHIP! When you are not mad. 
A friend of mine who was an executive almost went into a relationship,
oh my! 
The higher authorities went ablaze! By the higher authorities, I refer to those above us; the teachers and Patrons. In fact, it got even me into trouble. I remember one of the teachers called me and with a serious tone asked
“What were you looking at till she got to this point where she wants to go into a relationship with him, and of all people, him!”
The problem again was that the guy she liked was one they considered to be ‘not Christian enough’
These were the cons. Your life was being monitored, sometimes excessively. Now, this is what could lead into being fake.
I remember the day I applied gloss to my lips (lip gloss)?, normal ordinary lip gloss o, all those types most of us used back then in SSS3; brown with tiny shimmers so that it looked mildly like lip stick, I used it, innocent me, and one of the teachers called and gave me a sound lecture on how I was not to be doing ‘such’ because I was an executive. 
Another time, when were to fill in information for our year book, I wrote my nick name to be ‘Sha-baby’ because that was what many called me, a teacher called me and said ‘as a Christian, do you think it is right to write such a thing as your nick name’
Guys, I was weak.
I was so confused.
So you see, being an executive could deny you some of the Senior Secondary school thrills, but can we out rightly say it was all bad. No, my quest for the knowledge of God started, I learnt to be by myself.
Now, Yes, many who were not executives also had a relationship with God. Did I hear someone say that’s a win-win (Lol) while some were executives and lived fake, some were executives and lived true.
 I hope at this point,  you see my point *chuckles* did you notice what I just did now,  point-point, Some will say it’s nothing,? Forget it! 
Anyways,  my point is that at every point in time (Oh God! I did it again! I know right, I’m such a genius?) Well, at every point of our lives, God is teaching us stuff, even for those who had not surrendered their lives to Christ back then,  God was writing a beautiful story of their lives, of everyone of us.
And even now, in a few years time, you will look back at this present moment you’re in,  and smile then shake your head and say… “But babe, you could have done things better” and that’s because you have a better understanding and have become a better person and you’ll be grateful you went through every twist, turn, normalcy and mistake, because it all has been wrought into a beautiful script and that script is you!
Ciao. 
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Hello, my name is sharonpaula. I am currently running my National Youth Service Corp Scheme in Delta State. 
Oh, I love writing spoken word pieces, making spoken word videos and editing them.
I am a very silly and sincere girl and I can be fun to be with.
You can check out my spoken word pieces on Instagram @iamsharonpaula or reach out to me on my mail sharonpaulaspeaks@gmail.com
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*clears throat* Are there some other people in the house, for whom math(s) was and still is a problem? Do testify.
As an exco though, we truly were seated In heavenly places with Christ Jesus. Prayer band helped me at that time. It was always a long stretch of hours which, funny enough, was our delight. We became a mini-family! Like Sharon, I can say that was when my dedicated quest for God started (with lots of up and down though!). 
What do you make of Sharon’s story? Interested in sharing your boarding house (secondary school) story with us? Did the ‘higher-authorities’ influence you in school? Did you (or others) think you were being fake? We’ll love to hear your thoughts.

Touching Lives at Christmas 

The Christian Faith

Hiiiii people.
This post should’ve come up long ago as the registration date for this year’s TLC edition is closed and participation, now impossible. This will however help for subsequent years.

There is a different way to spend your Christmas as a Christian. I assume you’ve been going to church for a long while now, which is really good. Now, how about bringing someone else to church? Not your literal church per se, but to the body of Christ. What better time to do this than on the very anniversary we celebrate? It simplifies a lot of things for you, really. You’ve been having questions about missionaries and their work, you’ve been admiring their dedication and selflessness and probably believed you will never get to do more than pray and give. Here is your chance to evangelize, even for a day.
It’s touching lives at Christmas. It’s been holding for sixteen (16) years under a reputable missionary organization with the headquarters in Ilorin, Kwara state: The Kindgom Project TKP.
This is the concept:

  • You register. Either by filling a form brought to your church or given to you, or by filling it on the website or calling TKP headquarters on +2348088085757 and stating your city.
  • You are available for orientation for 2hrs at the most, on any day of your choice which runs for three, four or five days before Christmas (depending on your center).
  • You get to the converging point in your town or city on that day(Christmas day) as early as 7am.
  •  You’re transported to the villages that have been mapped out and surveyed around your city. In some centers there is hospital visitation, prison visitation and sometimes a visit to a leporasium.
    It’s a way of sharing the good news of Christ with those who haven’t heard it sufficiently well enough to make an informed decision.
    Believers from all walk of life participate and you can be one.
  • There is house to house evangelism after which there is a picnic called brethren’s forum in one of the chosen villages. Medical and welfare services are rendered to the villagers. There is practical study during the brethren’s forum and food is given. 
  • Before dusk falls, everyone is on their way back home.

2016 edition held in 13 countries, 108 centers and there was a total of 6,135 participants.
You can plan towards that of next year and pray for that of this year. It’s a fulfilling way to spend December 25th yearly.
There is also an avenue to give your support financially or release your vehicle to go the field.
Best to check on the website. Www.tkpmission.org.
I pray you have a fulfilling Christmas period this year. One beyond getting a new hairstyle done or new clothes and a good feast at the table. I pray you get to reflect on the meaning of Christmas, experience the joy of it and share it with others.
Merry Christmas and a happy New year in advance.
As always, Debby.
I always love to hear your thoughts. Do comment. And please do not forget to share it with someone.

Bodija – Moniya

Fiction 13 Comments


He looks into her purse as she opens it to bring out her transport fare. He sees about four thousand naira,all neatly lined up by the side of the purse.
She holds the thirty naira she has just pulled out, in her hand, and draws her shopping basket nearer to herself. The shopping basket is made of the same straw material used for mats. Inside the basket, he sees eggs, plantain, grinded pepper on the surface.
“excuse me please. Will he pass in front of UI to get to Moniya?”
It’s the last micro second before it becomes obvious he was distracted, when he catches what she said.
” yes” he croakes. He had not expected her to talk to him. This happens to him all the time; responding in unplanned situations, but responding in a voice not much distinct from that of a frog. He is self-conscious.
She still sits uncomfortably in the bus, very upright. In her defence she is apparently the only one of her social class in there.
It is a small and crowded bus plying the route of bodija market to Moniya in Ibadan.
Theirs is the last row in the bus. He sits at the extreme left, she follows and then there is a Fulani man by her right, followed by an Alhaja.
Others in the bus are significantly older and poorer.
The small phone in Ire’s pocket vibrates and makes him jerk his leg suddenly. He pulls out the phone to see it is a beep from his younger brother
“flasher of life” he mumbles under his breath and remembers he has to hurry up his activities to be in church later in the afternoon. He hisses.
“Mo ki gbo gbo yin ninu oko yii kaaro l’oruko Oluwa ”
He is stunned. It’s the UI student speaking.
” o se pataki ki onikaluku wa ye igbe aye wa wo nitori  pe. .. “
Her Yoruba is faulty, that should be excuse number 1. They’re also fast approaching UI gate, excuse number 2. By reason of logic there is no reason for her to preach but then she is preaching.
She is.
When the bus gets to park in front of UI, she rushes to complete a faulty statement, then wedges her way out of the bus after paying her fare.
The Alhaja with the yellow scarf at the extreme right hisses after she leaves but Ire knows the Alhaja couldn’t have hissed while the girl was in the bus. There was something compelling about her unjustified courage that made her message worth listening to.
When Ire gets home later that morning with the items he bought at bodija market, he knows he has a motivation to go to church.
He needs what the girl with the shopping basket and purse lined with one thousand naira notes has: the shameless courage fueled by her God.