As the year begins; on this twenty sixth January I’ve seen, I think of the widow. Quite an unlikely title for a New Year theme; but it’ll tickle you nevertheless.
On Christmas day, I was quite distraught when some teenagers refused to stand up to praise God with their hands and feet. I was thinking of the widow:
Do not let the widow’s smile ensnare you to think she hasn’t heard such tough times that made her heart sink like the Titanic. Mother lost her husband, aged 38, in 2009.
I know some of you could know the story already.
Suddenly, she lost her first born son last June the 15th, aged 28. How much more can one heart take?
Last year’s 1st January, the pastor during the crossover prayers said it’d be the year of extra ordinary resurections. I believed Emma would resurrect from a lack of vision and gain back sanity. But I didn’t see that resurrection! I then tend to lose faith in the random ‘this is your year of this or that.’ If they say it is your year of redemption or fruition’, does it mean other years won’t be! If they say ‘it’s a year of crazy faith,’ doth it mean we’ve never applied crazier faith? …
As the year ended, there was a voice faint. It was very far behind, shelved aback in my head. I forcefully drowned it as it yelled that we were another nuclear family member less this Christmas ’round.
That’s the pain that makes me wonder why a grumpy teenager won’t stand up and simply clap their hands. Do they know that my father and brother can’t clap theirs in the grave?
I used to hate it whenever the priest in Ecclesiastes acclaimed death! What was wrong with this idiot? I couldn’t call him a fool as fools don’t believe there’s a God.
He carelessly threw lines such as;
‘A wise person thinks about death, but a fool thinks only about having a good time’
Excuse me! 🙄 I’ll be the unwise person — thank you very much.
‘It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart.’
How is it better Mister Preacherman! How?
‘Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart.’
Good? Gooood?! I think it was high time I left this preacher’s church!
‘The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.’
Like I said already; I’ll be the unwise man.
Excuse my frustration and anger; if you read in between the lines, you’d sense that I bear grief with me, and perhaps I’m still in one of its stages as commonly known by the world.
I read an article by Joel Basoga, a friend. He was recapping his 2023 and without warning, he added insult to injury. (Don’t worry Joel — I mean it not in a bad way) He wrote (in his blog),
‘Yet, in the midst of my blessings, I can’t help but think of those unable to share this time with their families and friends. Every Christmas brings a poignant remembrance of my friend, Sam, whose absence is deeply felt. His presence radiated with the vibrant hues of life in all its beauty. I reflect on how different things would be if he were still here, his infectious joy noticeably absent at every turn. The void created by his departure raises questions about moving forward. How do we navigate such gaps in our lives?’
This Sam was a mutual friend, but my BEST friend — departed in 2021; and as I was drowning in the swirl of the loss of two, my heart’s crack deepened and widened when Joel without warning brought him out this way.
I was yelling and screaming in my head!😤
We comfort ourselves by saying they are in a better place, but the selfishness in us mocks us for living in denial!
To cut this short, I come to apologize to the preacher. I walk back in—to his church, and take the pew at the extreme front.
He was right.
You were right Mr Preacherman!
Because of the passing of others, I find myself thinking about death. Though this must strongly be differentiated from the fear of death. The Ecclesiastical preacher said that a wise person thinks about death. You can say I am a wise person not by choice!
As thinking that one day I won’t be able to write fresh features like these, or paint any of my masterpieces, or jump to the floor from my top bunk bed, or do the dishes, or go live, or go for a party — that reason causes me to wake up every morning with not just motivation, but the discipline to keep multiplying, like was expected of the servants when they were given different measures in that ol’ parable of the talents.
I find myself living from the end.
But also — I find myself THANKFUL! GRATEFUL. That I have chance to delight in my hobbies! That I can try again this year. That I can see another dream come to pass!
My father doesn’t have such chances. Emma neither does. And so I turn to you; begging that you’re not like those ignorant teenagers in church!
If you can clap, CLAP!
But do not just clap either! To clap you see, you need these parts called hands. There’s someone who gave them to you. And the whole duty of man is to fear Him and obey His commandments. (Ecc 12:13)
Don’t go complaining to Him about how another year has found you unmarried yet!Let’s begin with thanking Him that we are alive, to see perhaps that marriage happen.
In the grave, no ambition lives there! No dream! No wish! The power to decide seems to have been seized from all of us — and there is one specific path of two that each one of us has to tread. And there won’t be antagonistic feelings. If you shall be told to go to the right, to the right you must move. If to the left you’ll be ordered to, and you portray an ounce of opposition, you’ll blink, and find yourself left by all means.
You won’t have seven or eight paths to choose from. You won’t have to think about it later or procrastinate any thing. The power to choose will no longer be in your grasp, or yours to command. It’s from such an end that I live: backwards to gratefulness.
I then tell the widow that Job went through worse. That since she’s alive, there’s an opportunity to see double restoration, like Job saw. That what was meant for evil, God will make to work for her good. And though the grief remains, what I know; encourages her smile. And her smile encourages me to smile regardless.
Join the wise! And let my experience of death make you think of your death — however long your life might be! That you might live from the end too. That you’ll be grateful for every waking day; of very other alive thing or person around you. And that you’ll see how God has crowned your new year with His goodness (the first sign of which is your being alive), and see how He will make your paths drop with abundance.
Join the wise, and let my experience of death make you think of death. As I’ve witnessed, not every child will lose a parent or sibling. Not every parent will lose a child or spouse yet. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t carry the wisdom that death teaches…
Let my experience of death make you think of death…
I wanted to say ‘Happy New Year!’, but I myself feel the gravity of this drain the ‘happy’ out of the phrase. Maybe I could use ‘Thankful new year.’
Not formal, but it suits the occasion.
May God teach you to number your days, That you may gain a heart of wisdom, and apply it carefully.
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1 Thessalonians 5:18 in everything give thanks;
Philippians 4:6-7 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Psalms 6:4-5 Return, O LORD, deliver me! Oh, save me for Your mercies’ sake! For in death [there is] no remembrance of You; In the grave who will give You thanks?
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