My Dearest,
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.
xx
You know who.
PS: I published this post earlier but the font was terribly unreadable. Here you have it- user friendly I hope.
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