MUSINGS FROM LIFE

I had no intention of writing this until I stepped into the bathtub this morning and turned on the shower. On a regular day I would have picked up a song and sang with no inhibition. People have often told me the only choir my voice can qualify for is the bathroom choir. There’s no auditioning for that, not necessary to sing on key and God doesn’t mind anyway. He hears a melody in any voice singing from a heart of praise. But today I screamed with pain when the water touched my chest. I had forgotten to check the position of the water faucet. It was unbearably hot! I quickly turned off the showers and examined my chest. It throbbed with pain. Thank God it wasn’t burned. It was so painful that my mind went to a theme. Here I am typing away at the computer. If a splash of hot water from the showers for a few seconds can be so painful. How would an eternity of pain be in a lake of fire? In such a high tech world of microwaves, supersonic travels, space exploration, amazing discoveries in ...

Chicago has been nicknamed the windy city appropriately and I have often heard it said by many who live here that Chicago has mostly every other thing but good weather. I wrote this on a beautiful March morning. Just some few days earlier cars plowed through mountains of snow. Streets were deserted of walking pedestrian. Every one was clad in heavy overcoats and multiple layers of clothing within their vehicles. Trees hung still in deathlike postures and the birds reserved their songs. Winter could indeed be a messy season. Long lines of traffic on Interstate 90. Snow trucks fighting losing battles. Messy sidewalks and driveways. Skidding cars. Restless kids converting the desire for outdoor adventures into mischief around the house. Depressive granddads and moms. Winter could also be economically demanding. Escalated energy bills. A fresh consignment of winter wears for the kids ... That morning was different though. I stepped outside and instead of the cold and chilly, a refreshing w...

I had the privilege of observing my pastor and his wife as they went through the process of having their first child a few years ago. My meticulous mind fed itself with observations through the months of gestation and the whole birth process. Here are some conclusions I drew. It all started on a quiet July evening last year. I had settled down into my meditative mode (not yoga of course!) on one of the sofas in my living room ready to explore some issues beckoning for my mind’s attention when the phone rang .My first decision was to let it ring until it wanes in strength and goes back to sleep. I could always call back. What are answering machines for anyway? It did go to sleep but only for a while before it began to ring again insistently. Someone on the other line had refused to quit. I picked up the phone reluctantly but curiously. Wondering what couldn’t wait to travel through the wires or be left in the answering machine for later. “Hello!” The voice of my pastor from California f...

The elevator shook as we began our ascent. It came to a stop at the sixth floor and the door opened hesitantly with an ear-irritating creak. I stepped out into the hallway bewildered and almost in doubt whether I was at the right place or not. The door directly in front of me carried a sign that convinced me I wasn’t wrong. What kind of hospital is this? It had been the closest of all the hospitals I was referred to for a medical test for my immigration papers. I stepped into the door. A table in the center of the room had medical magazines strewed all over it in untidy piles. A few chairs surrounded the table, one of which was broken at the back. Three women stared at me as I entered. I saw that one was a nurse by her worn out overcoat. ‘How can I help you sir?’ She said in a sweet voice, smiling. The voice and the smile totally contrasted all my eyes had been treated to since I stepped into the building. Stepping forward I explained why I had come and shortly after was treated to one...

This post was written earlier. I decided to post it here because it might just help someone. For some nights now I had been up late watching television. Now to get the fact straight, it isn’t that I am such a fan of the box that I would sacrifice some good nights of sleep to spend time with it: It was just that these past few nights have been different. The second gulf war was on and like in no other wars the media was beaming minute-to-minute, hour-to-hour live coverage of events on the war front to the whole world. So for about five nights now the scene in my bedroom has been my wife sleeping peacefully on one side of the bed and I trying to read the close caption display on the TV set (I didn’t dare bring up the volume) to match what I see with some words. I saw the military tanks as they made their advance from the south to the north of Iraq. A host of speeding metals set to conquer. I saw the ground soldiers in their heavy uniforms take prisoners, the bombs dropping on targets, fl...

I never knew gray could inspire so much until this morning. Debo and I had left home earlier in the morning to buy some materials for her hair in the African store on Broadway Street in Chicago. We ended up getting more than we planned. We were just about to leave the store when I saw him. Gray hair, wrinkled face, bent back. His shirt was torn on one of the sleeves. He stood by the door of the store obviously having no plan to enter. Something told me he’s been there for a long time. He’s seen many come in and go out of the store. I quickly put his age at a bit above or below seventy. I couldn’t ignore him. He didn’t want to be ignored. He moved toward me and waved his hand. I saw his palm. It was scarred and rugged. “Can you spare me some coins ’’ I looked at him and my heart broke. I felt he should own the store and not beg by the door. I could give him coins or notes and I did but I knew they weren’t enough so I pulled him to the side told him about Christ and led him to Him. I wis...

Waking up this morning, I heard Josh, my 4-month old son cooing and screaming loudly in his crib. Wondering what could be the source of his excitement, I moved to check him out. What I saw both amazed and sent me to my computer to write this. The little darling was straining with all the might he had to reach a goal which to him was a worthy one to be pursued with all focus. He was concentrated on grabbing the blanket that was used to cover him to get it into the only destination for all things touched – his mouth. I took a while to observe him as he pursued his goal without distraction, cooing and almost bursting into tears. When he noticed me, he stopped and soon resumed his pursuit. As I touched him to carry him, the Spirit of God spoke to me. That’s exactly how you and my other children behave. Isn’t this true how we yearn and crave and cry to God for things that seem so important to us; things that we have tagged must-haves in our list of accomplishment and possessions. Things tha...

I have always been a believer in the power that books wield. Having had various encounters through books that I see as milestones and turning points in my life; but yesterday I became a better disciple of books seeing the impact the book, The Instant Millionaire by Mark Fisher, had on me. I had read it before many years ago so I recommended it to a protégé of mine as an interesting reading. He got it , read it and agreed that it was a masterpiece. Some time after this I asked him to lend me his copy so I could read it again. My intention was to use it as a pattern for a book I wanted to write. Well, I read the book again and light flooded my heart and mind. God used it as tool in His hand put in the missing pieces in my faith puzzle. Now I am ready for the ‘impossible.’ Really the book brought to light the statement of the Lord that all things are possible to the believing ones. Missing Pieces of faith are like broken points in an electric circuit. They are like the missing wheel of a ...