How are you doing? For some unexplainable reason, today I am having some thoughts I have probably never had - if I did have them, they never gripped my consciousness enough to leave an imprint. These thoughts are about one person- You. Perhaps I have been er…selfish and never considered it. Regardless of the excuse, it is shocking to even me that I have never really asked you how you are doing- I mean really doing. How in the heavens do You cope with all the rottenness going on in this world? It just occurred to me that out of the millions of words I have uttered to You in this lifetime (some of them, incredibly unwise), I have never really asked You the same question I ask tens of people every day: How are you doing?
On my side of the universe, we ask this question every day and almost everybody is robotic in their answers: “fine”. The really courteous ones will say “fine, thank you. And you?” While it is sad that I answer such questions absentmindedly, it is probably sadder that I ask such questions absentmindedly. Don’t get me wrong- I am not saying that people should answer that question with all the details of what’s going on in their lives. I mean, who really wants to hear the response to that question from the people they ask? I may consider him a creep, the odd human being who consistently gives me all the details of how he is really doing. And I would probably stop asking after a while. So why do I ask anyway?
Well, this letter is not about a motion to scrap ‘how are you?’ from daily human relations. No. Some of us would have nothing else to say to the neighbours with whom we are mutual strangers so let’s thank You for that greeting.
I have been thinking recently about the spate of events in the world I live in today and the thought that really grabbed me is this: “Just how are You holding up under all this pressure?” If some of the guys over there are wondering what I am talking about, it must be that the world is just dandily glorious at their end: Do you have no CNN or Fox News to constantly beat you up with bad news? Do you have no Punch Newspaper on the streets of gold or Channels Television to feed you unhealthy doses of the appalling activities of Boko Haram. My…My, your world is so cute, I am jealous and I can’t wait to come over. Wait-did I say that? Just kidding…I want to come over, but maybe not just yet. My family will be extremely upset and You really don’t want to deal with my parents this way. Right? Thank You. You may send your Son over though-when we are all good and ready. Now I have digressed. So I was asking if You all over there get the daily reports of events in the world. You mean you got no street muggers, robbers, assassins, rapists, drunk drivers…I have a dreadful list going on here already. You mean You don’t have all those people over there? I know you don’t.
Unfortunately, I don’t live within the pearly gates-yet. I live here in Lagos, Nigeria, and I am ‘sweet-sourly’ connected to the internet which I must tell you makes me a voting member of the global village, and thus entitled to constant updates on all the soul saddening activities of fellow ‘humans’ around the world. From Julian Stevnson who slit the throats of his own two children in France because he had custody issues with his ex-wife, to the lady in America who stole her own father’s power of attorney so she could eject him from his own house, to whatever else they are doing to destroy humanity in Syria or Timbuktu. I get the news every day.
Merely having to write and rehash the evil shortcomings of my Homo sapiens tribe is depressing. So I am wondering how You, who created the entire universe and everything in it feel when You watch us do everything possible to tear the world down. In the most simplistic form, it is like sweating for endless hours to clean up your room only for an annoying little brother to come over and tear it down. With the calibre of articles on YahooNews these days, I won’t be surprised to find that there is a dude somewhere who actually shot his 6 year old little brother to death for doing that…I am becoming very cynical. I know.
But this is not about me, it really is about you. How are You doing? Really. And don’t say fine. I get enough of that from your wayward kids down here. I can imagine that your heart break with every precious little baby we put to untimely death- but maybe You are the only one who thinks they are babies. They are only foetuses you know. That’s what the pro-choicers tell us.
I can imagine that you grieved with Julian Stevenson’s ex-wife. I can imagine that it breaks your heart when we do everything we can to prove the point that you are only a figment of our imagination, an opium of the masses- You don’t really exist you know-forget the fact that I’m writing to you. I can only guess what’s on your mind when we break every commandment you laid. I wonder how You cope when news of child abuse within the church profanes the name of Your Son and most importantly, I wonder what goes on Your mind when you consider how desperately your children and followers decide to be politically correct at the expense of what they truly believe-I’m sure You know it is now socially impolite to proselytise even though atheists tell us our reluctance to attempt to convert them makes them respect us less. How about when Christians decide to treat other Christians as enemies on the platform of denomination and doctrine? I can go on and on but I don’t have the strength plus this would only probably depress you anyway. Speaking of which, do You get depressed or overwhelmed when you look down and see our despicable lifestyle? I suppose You don’t- but it must be just sad to be at the receiving end.
I am also wondering, why don’t you say something? Do something! Show us all who the boss is! I guess its just not your way. I guess I will always have questions too-till I see your face at least when everything would make perfect sense.
Between You and I, it gets really consuming sometimes and all I can do is wonder and rest in the thought and assurance that regardless of what happens- You have it all covered-after all, You are the One who makes it rain where nobody lives. How cool is that! No matter what happens, you are there and in You we have hope.
We hope to see You soon. Everyone and everything is groaning for You to come and fix it down here. Some of us are even beginning to doubt that You will come and make it good. You will come, won’t You?
I’m sorry if I have undermined your Person and Power in this letter. Forgive me. I was only wondering: Dear Jesus, How in the heavens are You doing? And You can say fine. I know you are.
You know who.
PS: I published this post earlier but the font was terribly unreadable. Here you have it- user friendly I hope.