It was going to be my last, and I would make sure it stays that way come what may; I could almost picture the disapproving look of my father if so I decide to let him know of my decision but one thing stands out… and that was I CHOOSE NOT TO CARE.
Laying my back to rest that night on my bed, my mind traveled back to the golden days of my ordination and how I had beamed so bright like a man on his way to purchase his favorite car, the whole family could testify of the joy in me and my father told me he was proud of me. As I adjusted the neck tie on my creamy shirt, I grinned like a fool that I was into the mirror; I was so proud of what I was becoming.
“It has been a long while coming son” my mother had whispered softly all joyful that day and while I nodded in agreement to her words, she added “Son, I am proud of you. Your mama will always be proud of you”
“Thank you mama, you have added so much to my life just by the little things you do” I replied holding her hands warmly.
“Jeremy… you flatter me a lot” her eyes filled with satisfaction while she smiled.
That morning, I could remember vividly the peace I felt within, the date rings loudly in my head; 24th September, 2000 and I was barely 25 then. As I rolled on the bed trying to catch my beauty sleep, I struggled as my next stir on the bed left me facing that which I so much wants to forget and never remember. Right there in front of me lays peacefully the book I once embraced as my guiding rule in life; suddenly it made no sense to me anymore. The brown cover that hid its contents was visible in the dim light of the room, I frowned at it returning my gaze to settle on the room’s door knob, my action was effortless and that I know but I was willing to look at anything but the book.
Who would believe my action? My father would find it questionable and childish but right now I so much wish to be in a world where the book is hidden from the sight of men, and where all I could see was everything beautiful but the book.
I once held the book like my all, trained by my mother about great benefits in the book but things definitely has changed and what I once held as my all was nothing to me anymore. Frowning slightly, I closed my eyes in a bid to force myself to sleep; I want nothing right now, no thoughts, no regrets, no memories but my beauty sleep.
The next morning I was awoken with the jarring sound of my alarm clock, stood up slowly heading straight to the bathroom for a cool shower; that was unlike me. I, Jeremiah hardly leaves my bed straight to the bathroom without spending hours on my knees praying either in gratitude to God or in asking or interceding for others. Standing erect under the cold shower while the water sizzled down my body, I was lost in thought finding my action or even rebellion to God inappropriate. Of what use should I call myself a Christian if little things sway me off my feet and balance in Christ?
Taking a deep sigh in the bathroom, I thought of how my father must have felt when he was betrayed by a fellow laborer in Christ, how did he cope? I mean to ask him after my bath but for now I know father must have felt disappointed and even deeply hurt. The day of my ordination as a junior pastor, the words of the elder pastor echoed in my mind; he said that the world of true Christian living isn’t the rosy type where one gets to taste the icing on top of the cake every time, sometimes you get to eat the burnt part of the cake and still think the cake is sweet.
I left the bathroom a short while after, wiped my body clean with the towel and sat on my bed bare chested as I stared hard and long at the bible beside me. Perhaps a call to my father would give me an answer, and with a long stretch of my hand, I picked up my phone to put a call through.
No matter how hard I tried, throughout the night I so much longed to carry my bible and devour from the unending wisdom and strength it has to offer. Little wonder did the book of Jeremiah, just like my name in chapters 29 verse 9 says “Then I said, I will not make mention of his name, nor speak anymore in his name. But his word was in my heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I was weary of holding it back, and I could not” (NKJV)
I can’t stop talking about Jesus nor have a meaningless fight with my creator just because I had tasted the burnt part of the cake. He has done so much for me to ever fight him for the little thing he hasn’t done. Indeed, iron sharpeneth iron; my father ended the call and I smiled.
I must confess, this story written by me speaks volume to me especially when I read that part of Jeremiah in the bible. It is a clear indication to us all that we have to come to a point in our lives that come what may, we stick to CHRIST. You can do just that, can’t you? Remember, just because you took the share of the burnt part of the cake doesn’t mean the baker cannot bake a more better and sweet cake. All you have to do is wait for another sweet cake and while you wait, do something beautiful yet tasking TRUST.
Till we meet again another Wednesday on searchlight.
Blessed by this♥️
Thank you very much. I’m elated by your comment