7: Forty something. PM
I'm sitting in a pose that would make do for any rock album cover ( say 'Fall Out Boy' . . . Leke Togun loves them so much *starry eyed*). The only binger that I wouldn't be making an album cover for any Hollywood rock artist tonight is simply the backdrop- an empty wooden shack.
My company- a couple of my colleagues who won't stop recounting how life has never been as hard for them as it has been today. I try hard not to roll my eyes. Sincerey, I'm tired! First, of offering words of encouragement on how things are going to turn out better. Second I'm tired as in really tired.
We are actually homeless. We all vounteered for some work and we are like far from our homes. After a long day waiting for our field officers, we are here tired.
Situation- we have no place to lay our heads.
People start picking up their cellphones calling friends. Explaining the situation and making the 'can I come over' request. Everyone gets luck except me. Where exactly are my friends when I need them? DANG! ! !
A SACFRICE OF PRAISE
I remember talking a long walk earlier on today during the waiting. I just wanted to clear my head, listen to some good music . . . But to be honest, at first I felt an urge to draw away from the crowd. As I was walking down a particular lonely road, Natalie Grant's 'Song to the King' ( from her new 'Love Revolution' album) was playing via my music player when a phrase jumped at me from the song. I've heard this song a number of times. The phrase was 'Sacrifice of praise'. What really is a sacrifice of praise. Is it all about what we bring and the song we sing during offering time in church? ♫ We bring a sacrifice of praise ♫ (Do they still sing that in your church. . . Just wondering cause I love that song :)). But what really is a sacrifice of praise.
It's so easy to praise our God from the mountain top. You know. To raise a God song when it seems so fab requires little to no strenght. God is good and its obvious. What about when we can't see it? It's a good thing I tell you to praise from the mountain top but what of when we are in the valley when all trace of hope 'seems' gone.
Raising a God song in the middle of this is hard. 'The Son of man has no where to lay his head' that's a godly thought but what a boy to doo when homeless at an ungodly hour.
It's getting cold - I won't complain
I'm hungry - I won't complain
I'm so tired - I won't complain
Maybe God speaking to my heart earlier today about a sacrifice of praise has got me prepared for this moment.
Every nerve in me is tempted to be cynical and grumble but I will obey, even though it might be costly.
ALSO EARLIER TODAY. . . 'DOES GOD SPEAK TO YOU'
During the waiting also earlier today, I decided to keep my self busy. Sat down, drew out the paperback I've been reading which was John Eldrege's 'Walking with God'. On the back it's got a subtitle that goes 'Talk to Him, hear from Him, Really'. Then a guy walks over to my seat. 'Can I see your book?' He takes a good look, flips through some pages. 'Talk to Him, hear from Him, Really' he repeats. He hands back the book, pauses for a while and ask 'Does God really speak to you?'
It's a like a carpet I'm standing on is unexpectedly removed from underneath. I'm shocked, I really don't know why. I give a drawling 'Yeeeeees!' as an answer after opening my mouth for some seven seconds.
'I have waited for so long for miracle to come' that was Celine Dion, but honestly how long do we have to wait for our miracles. I'm class A homeless still sitting in the cold when someone I know through someone I know ( you get the drift but let's call him a friend cause he did only what friends do) came by. 'Hey. . . Hi' pleasantries exchanged. 'So why are you sitting here' he asks. I'm like. . . . I explain the situation - no where to lay my head. To cut it all short, I get on his car and leave behind my backdrop that would not suit any album cover.
Right now I'm writing from a reading space in a room all to my self. There's music, a soft bed, a balcony with a great view. What more can I ask? And 'coincidentally' a song titled 'Room' by Rachael Lampa is playing softly via speakers as I try to wrap up this piece. Sincerely I feel blessed.
I will like to share something I read earlier from John Eldredge's 'Walking With God' which makes me look back and smile.
"Do you really, Jesus? Do you go on ahead of me?. . . . . God is there, but I'm doing my darnedest down here while he is sort of smiling down on me, not really engaged in the details. That view is not true of Him, and it is an awful way to live."
It's refreshing to know that the king of all the earth goes ahead of us to prepare a place in the day for us. . . To make room for us.
THE END :)
EPILOGUE - I WON'T COMPLlAIN
Friday, 4th February, 2011
Can it ever end?
That's the thought that comes to mind as I sit here and type away. It's been almost 3 weeks since I prepared the above post and I sincerely say, a lot has changed.
I left the room I was blessed with for some village far away. It's been a process. Sometimes I wake up in the morning thinking how did I get here?
A quote from Darlene Zchesh keeps haunting me all through the ordeal. It's from her entry for Joyce Meyer's 'Love Revolution' book. She talks about how she was encouraged by Pastor Bill Hybels message and I paraphrase ' We must not talk about and donate to the poor only, but we must also let poverty touch us'. It's easy to sit in our lush parlours in the city and send out something to missions or the needy but what if we step out to give the things money can't buy.
For the past three weeks I've been waking up in a community where children go hungry and parent wait for the next ray of hope. 'Will it ever get better?' is the question on their minds; if you take your time you would read it on their faces.
For me- I'm reminded more than ever that on my own I have nothing to give.
What can I give to satisfy the desire for hope in the heart of this people?
The children wave as I passby each morning. I wave back. Some times I draw near to give a smile and hold their hands on brilliant days sometimes I force a smile when things seems gray.
I won't complain. It's not about me. It's more about what God is doing in the grand scheme of things. That answers why I'm here.
Today as I pack to head out, I hear a mother detailing how life is so hard for her family to another mother. She longs for a better life. She tells of how she longs for the city and plans to run to a better life there. Standing at my window, my heart breaks as I hear the stories. As I head out, a smile originates from somewhere deep inside. It is soaked with the waters of compassion from my heart. I turn as I step out to wish them the best of the day. I go away. As I take a quick glance back, peaceful smiles crosses the mothers' faces. I'm thankful. If it's only a smile I have to give for now, it's okay. I won't complain.
Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN