Jesus - Jenniferinspires

Written by Jennifer Azubuike Esther’s eyebrows burrowed into a frown as she reread the passage. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,” “What are you reading?” Jibu spied from over her shoulders. “It’s the Bible verse I was assigned for the Youth conference.” She replied without looking up from her iPad. “Cool! Are you supposed to memorize it for recitation? If so, reading from different translations like you have done will not make it stick.” He said as he took a seat beside her. “No, I am not reciting it. I am supposed to prepare a sermon on it, but it doesn’t make sense.” “What about it doesn’t make sense?” “Joy and trials in the same sentence!” Her frustration was evident in the inflection in her voice. “How do I tell people in good conscience to be joyful, happy, and feel privileged when facing difficult times? It just doesn’t feel natural.” “You didn’t write it, and it’s not your job to make it feel natural. Just preach it!” Jibu shrugged. Esther gawked at her brother in amazement. “Jibu, I was unhappy when I lost my job last year. And you, when you had your bad tooth back in June, were you joyful? I recall that you cried nonstop until it was removed. I will feel like a hypocrite telling people to be joyful and blah blah blah when I don’t do the same.” “Sheesh! Then don’t do it. I was only trying to help.” He got up and walked to the kitchen. “Oh, Hi, Mom.” “What are you two going on about?” Jibu’s mother, who heard their argument but stayed out of it, asked. “I was helping Esther with her presentation, but she didn’t appreciate my genius idea. She never does.” His mother chuckled. “What do you know about her job to help her with her presentation?” “It’s for the coming youth conference, not her job.” “Oh, should you not be preparing for the conference too?” “I’m not a preacher. I’ll just be gracing them with my distinguished presence that weekend.” Jibu grinned and moved away from the kitchen before he was unwillingly conscripted into a task, but his mother called after him. “Call your sister and come back here with her. I’d like to hear your brilliant ideas that she doesn’t appreciate.” While she waited for them, she turned down the stove. “Yes, Mom?” Esther spoke first as soon as they entered. “Jibu said you’re struggling with your presentation. What is it about?” Esther first eyed her brother for tattling on her. “I was asked to prepare a sermon on James Chapter One, but I can’t even get past the second verse.” “Why is that?” “Because it doesn’t seem honest!” She exclaimed and went on to share her dilemma. Their mother opened the verse on her Bible app and read it for herself. “Hmmm, I see what you mean; it does sound counterintuitive. Jibu, what was your idea?” “I told her to repeat what was written in the verse to her audience and not stress about it. Half the time, I don’t understand what is taught from that pulpit anyway.” “That was your bright idea?” His mother was half embarrassed for her teenage son, but she sighed. “Okay, Let’s break it down together, shall we? Do you remember when I started teaching you how to prepare my favorite fish stew?” Esther nodded. “How many times did you get it wrong?” “Oh, I don’t recall.” Esther smiled shyly. “At least two times?” Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Alright, maybe three?” Her mother chuckled. “Six times, to be exact, but each time was an improvement from the last. I remember how frustrated you were and would have given up if I hadn’t forced you to keep trying.” She paused and smiled at her daughter. “Today, you make it effortlessly and have even improved the recipe. In simpler words, James said challenges are opportunities to grow if only you can view them from that perspective. With such a mindset, you will rejoice when trials come your way instead of being sad about them.” “Mom, how sure are you that is what he was implying?” “He wasn’t implying it. It is what he said. Did you read verses three and four?” “I might have, but I was too hung up on verse two to pay attention.” “Well, do it, and read them out loud.” “Because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Esther read it twice, the second time much slower than the first. “So you mean if I believe that difficult situations allow me to learn something new and mature, then I will choose not to complain but be patient instead?” Her mother did not respond; instead, she fondly watched her interpret the verse and draw her conclusion. “What if it is a harrowing situation like losing my job?” “Or a tooth?” Jibu chipped in. “Losing your job was not harrowing, Esther, but I understand you felt that way. However, after losing your job, you worked hard to get another one. In the process, you mastered interviewing and communication skills, learned how to write good resumes, and became more social and outgoing. Would you say you are the same person you were while you held your previous job?” “Of course not. Mom, you’re so right! I have matured so much in one year.” “Good. And Jibu, you lost a bad tooth, which is good, or do you want it back?” “Nah! I am good.” Jibu waved dismissively. “Okay, so in summary, a mature mind will rejoice when difficult situations arise, not because of the situations themselves but because it will be a test of their character, the strength of faith, an opportunity to grow, and they know they will come out of it as a better person. Is that clearer?” “Absolutely! Thank you so

THE RESTORER

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Written by Jennifer Azubuike Many years ago, a funeral procession from the village of Nain was heading towards a cemetery outside the village gate. The deceased was the only son of his mother, who also happened to be a widow. According to the story, many people from the village came for the funeral, indicating that either the woman or her son must have been popular and loved. I also have a hunch that many people came to mourn with the widow out of sympathy that she had lost her source of livelihood, the chance of a future family (if her son died unmarried), caretaker, identity (being a patriarchal society), and genuine lover. The woman must also have been heartbroken and felt hopeless. It was safe to say she lost everything until Jesus showed up. What was the chance that Jesus, God in human flesh, was walking the earth at that time, in the middle of His ministry, and on the road to the same village at that exact time? The chance was slim, but everything aligned to bring him there then. And because he is naturally compassionate, he wouldn’t let the funeral continue. He stopped the procession, raised the dead man back to life, and gave him back to his mother. In that instant, ALL was RESTORED for the woman. That is what Jesus does when he shows up in a dead, impossible, pitiable, or hopeless situation → He restores! Beloved, I don’t know how people live without Jesus but do not be one of them. Biblical reference: Luke 7:11-15 See other posts here

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Faith’s Check

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Written by Jennifer Azubuike —- “Faith! Where is Faith?” Ben called. “Faith? Who is Faith?” The librarian asked. “The teenage girl in glasses and a yellow backpack. She just came up the stairs.” “Oh! She walked to the fiction aisle to find a book. She should be around the corner.” “Thank you!” Ben waved as he walked away. “Faith.” He called in a near whisper when he found her. “Hey, What are you doing here?” Faith asked, surprised to see her father’s assistant. “I have something for you.” He unlocked his plastic file and removed an envelope. “Your father asked me to give you this.” Faith collected it from him and opened it. She quickly read a note contained inside and her countenance changed. Ben, on noticing her sadness, collected the note. Dear Faith, I am so sorry I had to hurry away on short notice. I have included a check to buy the things you requested. I promise to go with you to the science fair when I return on Tuesday. Love, Dad. He glanced back at her confused. “What is wrong? Why are you looking sad?” “I asked him for money. He gave me a check.” She said with her head lowered. “Isn’t a check as good as money? Let me see the check.” Ben collected the envelope and retrieved the check from inside. “Whoa! What exactly do you need this much to buy?” “Doesn’t matter. I asked for money, not a check.” “Okay, come let’s take a seat. There’s something I need to explain to you.” When seated, Ben asked, “Honey, what is your name?” “Did you forget my name or do you have sudden amnesia?” Faith was still upset. “Silly girl! Just answer the question.” “Faith! My name is Faith.” She answered reluctantly. “And what is the meaning of your name?” “It is to have confidence in something according to my dictionary, but my dad said it is the evidence of something someone hopes for.” “Excellent! Do you understand it? I mean your dad’s definition.” “No. Why would I hope for something I already have? It makes no sense.” “Great question! You hoped for money, but your dad gave you a check. When you take this check to the bank, because it is signed in your father’s name, the bank will exchange this piece of paper for the amount of money written on it.” “What if it is declined?” “Declined? Why would it be declined?” “I don’t know?” She shrugged. “Do you know who your father is?” Ben looked at the girl, stunned. “Do you know your dad can purchase this town, including your favorite library? And I mean this building you like to visit.” Faith was quiet momentarily as she gazed at him thoughtfully. “That means this check is evidence of the money I hope for?” “Yes, princess. It is the evidence you can present at the bank.” “Wait! If this check is my evidence like you said, then am I a check? Is that why I am called Faith?” Ben chuckled. “ You will have to ask your father. I am almost certain he has a good explanation” * * * In the eleventh chapter of the book of Hebrews, the new King James version defines faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,” ‬ while the New International version words it as “[the] confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Whichever version helps for easier comprehension, I still like to describe faith as a check on which is written God’s promises that we can hold on to until we see the manifestation of what is promised. While the young girl in the story above can take her ‘check’ to the bank at any time, I understand that our check of promise (AKA faith) is cashed at the timing of God’s will. For instance, Abraham waited for 25 years but Manoah and his wife only had to wait for about nine months. Nonetheless, if God has promised it and you believe it, it will surely happen. Since the Almighty God is the account holder, your check will never bounce. Till next time, stay lifted! You can read another encouraging post here.

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The Beautiful Mind

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Written by Jennifer Azubuike It was a hot July day. I was sweaty in my scrubs and was hunched over under the weight of a heavy backpack on the streets of Kensington. I was in a scrub because I was one of the young health professional students going around to give free basic health screens to anyone who paid attention to us, and my heavy backpack contained our tools. I was walking along the road with my other two team members when a man approached us. He looked unkempt and somewhat sickly, so it was hard to tell his age. A rough guess would be mid-30s to 40s. “Please let me use your phone.” He waved at us. In a notorious place like Kensington, it would be naive and stupid to respond to such a request sympathetically, so we ignored him. “Please let me use your phone to make a call.” He pleaded again following us. “Today is my birthday. I just want to call my mother.” On hearing his last sentence, the woman who served as our interpreter stopped so we all did. He spoke in English so she didn’t need to interpret. However, she asked him a couple of questions for clarification. When she seemed satisfied, she took her phone from her handbag to our dismay, and handed it to the man. We tried to caution her but she asked us to hold our peace. So, we stood back and watched. Standing right in front of us, this man I will call Sam called his mother, spoke with her for a few minutes, hung up, and handed the phone back to our interpreter. We had feared that he might run away with the phone but we judged him too quickly! As he returned the phone, he gave a brief synopsis of his life. He was a drug addict. His addiction started with painkillers that were prescribed to him during tooth extraction back when he was a child. The addiction caused him to leave home and lose relationships – and I bet it also caused him not to have any structure in his life. Thankfully, his mother would still take his call, so he made it a point to call her on his birthdays. The encounter with Sam has stayed with me over the years and returned to me when in the recent time a young man, when asked about handling peer pressure to use recreational drugs, said he would not do it because he valued his mind. “I regard my mind as the most powerful asset that I own. I will not take anything that will mess it up.” [paraphrased] I have turned those words over in my head a few times. If you think about it, the mind is the seat of thoughts and emotions. Even though the mind receives external inputs and influences, it navigates them to form the unique thoughts that we act on every day. Thus, our lives take on a structure from the building blocks sourced from our minds. How about creativity? Any existing structure or art that man created was sourced from the mind. For instance, cars! The necessity to travel around faster must have pushed the first inventor into employing the power of his mind, nonetheless, it came from the MIND! The scriptures say that God created man in his image. I believe the Creator wanted man to have the ability to create like Himself, so he gave him a mind. If the beautiful and useful structures our eyes behold, including the works of art we appreciate every day were made from the power of the mind then the mind is beautiful. Why mess it up? Why devalue your mind and numb it with drugs, alcohol, or any addictive substance? If your only chance of stamping your name in the face of time is in the ink of your mind, why give it up? However, in Sam’s case, the open door to addiction was not his choice. While that is unfortunately true for many, if it can be helped please seek help. “It is better not to start than to try to break [an] addiction.” – Dr D.K Olukoya Till next time, stay lifted! Read another uplifting blog here

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In the Waiting Room

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Written by Jennifer Azubuike While they ate, he stood near them under a tree. “Where is your wife, Sarah?” they asked him. “There, in the tent,” he said. Then one of them said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.” Now Sarah was listening at the entrance to the tent, which was behind him. Abraham and Sarah were already very old, and Sarah was past the age of childbearing. So, Sarah laughed to herself as she thought, “After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?” Then the Lord said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old?’ Is anything too hard for the Lord? I will return to you at the appointed time next year, and Sarah will have a son.” Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But he said, “Yes, you did laugh. (Gen 18:7-15) * * * Physically, a waiting room is a place provided for people to wait for their turn for something, and everyone has used one at some point; either at the doctor’s office, the bus station or public restroom. In life, this waiting room translates to a stretch of time a person waits for something they desire to happen. It could be for a job, a baby, a spouse, residence permit…the list goes on. For a Christian, the place of waiting is also a stretch of time to wait for something but in this case is believing God to do that thing of desire which he/she cannot do for themselves. I do not know a Christian who has not waited. Examples are also abundant in the scriptures. The waiting room can be dark and lonely. Dark because you usually do not know when the waiting will end and lonely because You may have kept it a secret, so nobody knows you need support Some friends, family or acquaintance are privy to your situation but don’t know exactly how to help so they physically or emotionally distance themselves Some people are quite supportive but are fighting their own battles Some do not understand at all or may want to help but just end up hurting you with their actions or words (Remember Job’s wife?) People at their best can only support you in those times. The deal is still between you and God. Can I tell you why God makes us wait? Absolutely not! I don’t know. Infact, I sometimes imagine there is a long line of requests in heaven with all the prayers that go up from here, but I don’t really know the answer. Besides, Job’s reason of waiting was different from Joseph’s. Here’s something I have learned though; with God the process of waiting is just as important as the desired goal or destination. If we allow it, the waiting period has the power to build, change, and teach us something valuable. In the meantime, to survive the waiting room. Pray. I mean never allow the coals on your prayer altar to grow cold. Jesus recommended that himself in Luke 18:1-8 Always remind yourself that Jesus already won the battle. Regardless of your troubles, He won! Finally, believe that Jesus will come through for you. Isaiah 43:31 says: But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. Till next time, Stay lifted. See other posts here

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A LADY AND HER SHOEBOXES

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Written by Jennifer Azubuike I am a big fan of Francine Rivers’ stories. I was reading one of her books when a short story told inside her main story caught my attention (yeah, she’s that good at plot twists and relaying messages). It is a story about a young woman with two shoeboxes. The first shoebox she assigned for prayer requests so that whenever she had a request, she would write it down on a piece of paper, pray over it and put the piece of paper into that shoebox. The second box is for testimonies; when a prayer from the first shoebox is answered, the young woman takes out the note from that box and transfers it to the ‘testimony’ box. What stuck with me about this story was when the woman confessed that whenever she starts to grow weary from a prayer taking too long to be answered, she opens the testimony box and reads her testimonies from the past thus reminding herself of God’s faithfulness and thereby strengthening her faith. I honestly think it is a great idea to note down our testimonies as much as we have a list of requests to ask. That note will not just remind us to thank the Lord for what He has done but also re-energize our faith in our ever-faithful God. Talking about being thankful, my grandmother used to say in a proverb “When you praise a soldier for fighting on your behalf, he will be motivated to go again.” Simply put, the Lord wants us to remember His victories on our behalf. I say so because He was pissed each time the children of Israel murmured and complained when they were faced with difficulties and quickly forgot His past wonders on their behalf. What is the wonderful answers God has given to your requests in the past? Do you still remember them? I mean do you have a testimony box? Till next time, Peace! Please see other post here

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RHEMA TODAY

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Elizabeth picked up her bookbag and slung it over her shoulders. Mickey looked up from her textbook surprised that she was preparing to leave the room again. “Where are you going?” “I have a meeting in 10 minutes.” “What meeting?” “A church meeting” “Girl! you just got back from a prayer meeting.” “Yes, this next meeting is a discussion group.” Elizabeth hurriedly slipped through the half-open door without another word to perplexed Mickey. Mickey shook her head. She felt pity that the young woman was losing herself to religiosity. She is a Christian too but unlike her roommate, she has no motivation, whatsoever, to be involved in extra-religious activities and has stayed true to her choosing. Nevertheless, something about her roommate tugged at her heart; something extraordinary yet beautiful, but at the same time difficult to explain. Two hours later there’s a gentle tap on their door. Mickey rose to get the door but before she could reach it, the handle turned and the door opened. Mickey winced for forgetting to lock it. A neighbor popped her head through the open door and smiled at Mickey. “Is Lizzie home?” “Hi Gee. She’s not. Is there a problem?” “Oh no!” Geeti pushed the door open and entered properly. “It’s time for youth Bible study and I wanted to know if she is ready.” “I guess she would if she were home but she’s not.” “It’s okay, I’ll just dial her number.” “She’s at a meeting. I don’t think she can take a call.” “Okay, I’ll send her a text then.” “Can you guys not go on without her today? She’ll join another time.” “We can but she’s a coordinator; we need her to lead the teaching today.” Mickey was going to reply when Elizabeth walked in. “There you are!” Geeti exclaimed. “We were just talking about you.” “Welcome back Lizzie.” Mickey waved nonchalantly and walked back to her desk. Elizabeth turned to Geeti. “I’m sorry I’m late. My meeting went overtime today.” “It’s okay. Glad you’re here.” Elizabeth kicked off her shoes and picked a set of comfortable flats. “Are the youths gathered?” “Yes. I left them in front of apartment C to get you.” Elizabeth finished putting on her shoes and bounced out of the room with Geeti in tow. Again, forgetting to properly shut the door. Mickey looked at the door left ajar and sighed. Sometimes it took all the virtue of patience she had nurtured to put up with this habit of her roommate. She was shutting the door when a force pushed it open from outside narrowly missing her face. The next few seconds she watched, alarmed, as a group of young teens and a couple of older youths filed into the room waving a brief hi and hellos and taking up the space in the single room. Mickey’s mouth flew open. She was gearing up for an angry outburst when Elizabeth pulled her aside and explained quickly that the other space they booked had been taken by another group. Begrudgingly, Mickey let them stay but knowing she couldn’t concentrate any longer on reading, she gave it up and watched the meeting unfold while laying on her bed. Elizabeth directed everyone to be seated. As little as the space was, everyone found a seat, and the conversation started. “Who knows about the burning bush?” Elizabeth asked Hands shot up. She randomly selected from the raised hands. In bits and pieces,, the young people happily described the biblical story of Moses in the burning bush and God’s messages to him about rescuing Israel from Egypt. “Very good. When I read Moses’ encounter and the other books of the prophets like Jeremiah, Isaiah, and Ezekiel in the Bible, I wonder at the word of God that was so present at the time to those people. The word of God was so tangibly present with those men of God that when they say “Thus says the Lord.” The words following that sentence will surely manifest in the physical realm. Those words were called prophecy – which could be about tragedy or deliverance. That is why those men were called prophets. Also when something was about to happen, God told it to his prophets first who went ahead to either proclaim, warn, instruct,, or comfort the people about what God had said was about to happen. Now when I look at those impressive communications and compare them to today when ‘Rhema’ which is the spoken word of God is not as common, I wonder what changed? We still do have prophets, of course, but why is the spoken word of God not as common? Is God no longer near humans? Or He just doesn’t wish to talk to this generation? Or maybe He does not find too many worthy messengers among the people of today? Or can we say He has nothing to say to us? The thing is, in this dispensation of the new covenant, we have the written word of God called ‘Logos’ which is contained in the Bible you have in your hands. Let’s have the Bible itself explain. Can someone open his or her Bible and read the book of Second Timothy chapter 3 verse 16 please?” All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work. ‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭3:16-17‬ ‭NLT‬‬ “Did you pay attention to the first part that says the words are inspired by God? That means that the words contained in the Bible are the words of God. So when you carry around your bible you carry around God’s word. Next, there’s the Holy Spirit who is the spirit of God. Do you know where to find that spirit? I’ll show you. Open your bibles to the book

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WHOM I HAVE CHOSEN

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(mainly adapted from 2 Samuel 6:1-23) Written by Jennifer Azubuike Finally they remembered me. My children remembered to take me home. My name is Lord Almighty, who is enthroned between the Cherubim on the Ark. My chosen servant, David, led as they came to move my tabernacle to rest. My children surrounded me. I love their company! As we walked home, they sang me songs and I swayed to the melody. Voices, lyres, harps, timbrels and cymbals. All in beautiful harmony. I swayed to the right when a note hit a beautiful pitch and swayed again to the left. Maybe I swayed a little too far for someone thought I was falling and touched me. At that moment, my anger burned. “Who dared disrupt my bliss?” Someone not chosen has touched me. Alas! Uzzah the son of Abinadab. I was wrath and chastised him but man is too fragile for he fell asleep. His brethren panicked and fled. My children again deserted me. “Come children, I am no monster but a loving Father. I only meant to say I choose who touches me.” But it was too late for they all misunderstood. In a quiet corner of Obededom’s house, I sat and reflected on my action. I am Holy and glorious but also gracious. I want my sons to trust my love for them. Therefore, I promised I will do better and always remember how fragile my children are. To start, I kissed the household of Obededom with my goodness. Therefore, he prospered. And as if my children heard of my repentance, they rushed to embrace me home again. You see, my children also learned something. Yes, they learned I dislike desecration. Therefore they behaved themselves prudently this time. When I saw their determination to please me, I fell in love with them over again. I watched my servants rejoice before me. David my beloved danced to my content. He is a son after my own heart. This time, I behaved myself too because I love my own. I said to myself, In anger I will remember moderation. And I kept my word until the daughter of Saul touched me. When she held my beloved in contempt, she touched my chosen and therefore touched me. I will burn no more in anger, I had promised for I may scare my beloveds away again. So I turned my face away. Yes, my favor away from Michal. Have you not learned, you daughter of Israel? Have you been raised in a Palace in Israel and yet have no knowledge? Have you had many teachers and finest provisions for nought? Know you not that it hurts me to see you miss out on my blessings? Ah! Indeed, my people perish for lack of knowledge. There is no gain to me when my people suffer. Please study to show yourself approved. Come, this once and I will teach you this. My child, if I have chosen your spouse for my service, honor them like you would honor me so that it will be well with you. For he that honors my chosen, honors me. See previous post here

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After death…

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I was at a funeral a couple of weeks ago and for reasons best known to the family of the deceased, they had an open casket viewing. The deceased passed from complications of colon cancer. Not only was the casket open, but attendees did not have to walk up to the casket to see the body lying in state. Anyone could see it from wherever they were seated in the room. I sat and just stared. It was a humbling sight. He was lying there looking peacefully asleep but no amount of noise in the room would awaken him. I knew he could hear nothing, not even the muffled cries of his beloved son. Absolutely nothing mattered to him anymore. That moment I plunge into deep thoughts; I thought deeply about man and death. The deceased was well known to me in his lifetime, so I was more moved to ponder the mortality of man. One more time, I came face to face with the fickleness of humanity which has since confronted me considering the coronavirus dilemma and the vast loss of life. Some questions I pondered upon were what is death? Of course, I know it is when the living stops breathing or having life but what does a man experience at death? Why does it cause so much hurt and sadness among the living? Why do the living fear death? And above all, is death truly the end of existence? I remember talking to a man several years ago and a question came up about faith. This elderly man looked me straight in the eyes and with all seriousness replied that he does not believe in anything therefore nothing can lay claim to his soul after death. Most recently, I heard a young man say that when he dies, he has chosen to remain in his grave. While both speakers seem to acknowledge that existence does not end in death, they failed to consider the possibility of no longer having control over anything then, whether it is the choice of staying in the grave or ownership of the soul. Well, for anyone who does not believe in something or in a being whose existence transcends this earth and time, I have a feeling that an uncertainty will hang over them continually. If you (the reader) do know something of this sought, however, I hope you believe in it strongly enough to provide you the confidence you need to navigate the passage rite of death which is a necessary end. Personally, I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe He is powerful enough to take control of my soul after death and I also believe in His power so much that I will not wait for death to hand him control, so I did it now that I still have life and that has brought me PEACE. It is like insurance. And if after death, it turns out that there is no need for a soul saving savior, I would not have lost anything because I enjoyed peace through my faith in a Savior. I invite you to do similarly and also find peace. Jesus is always accepting. His booking is never full, and he will not turn anyone away. Thanks for reading. See more here.

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Wind of Judgement

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By Jenn Azu It was on a dark and lonely road like one of the bush paths in a rural village. I was lying there on my back struggling with this creature trying to strangle me. At a closer look, it has the shape of a man but faceless. It also has no legs and seemed to move with the wind but its strength is ten times that of an ordinary man. At first, it had chased me sore with a glittering sword in hand until I fell over. It pinned me down to the ground and was overpowering me when I remembered that my wife had once mentioned that a man in the bible fought with an angel and won. So, I tried to do a rollover maneuver and landed on the tiled floor of my room with a loud thud. It had been a dream. I laid down there for a minute breathing heavily as I pondered over the dream. Ever since my last operation, it has been one terrible dream or the other. The man I have in custody is not an ordinary man, I knew, but my dreams are definitely telling me there’s something more. “But why me?” I queried. “I am only carrying out instructions from the President.” I tried to raise myself from the floor but felt an ache in my side which must have resulted from the impact of my fall. My bed is thirty inches high so I prayed silently not to have broken something. As I pulled myself up to sit on my bed, a cold mysterious air blew in my face and sent shivers up my spine. I looked straight at the window, it is shut. The air conditioner is also turned off. Where could that wind be coming from? As I surveyed the room to determine the source of the cold air, I felt it again but this time as a light touch on my bare back. My heart went cold in my chest as it dawned on me that I was not alone. The curtains hanging over the window starts dancing to the move of the wind as if the window is open. The creature followed me to real life? I wondered in shock. I felt the strong presence of a being even though I saw no one. “What do you want from me?” I cried. By this time half my body felt paralyzed. “I say who are you and what do you want from me?” There was silence. The thoughts of my wife crossed my mind and I wished she was home. I quickly reached for her bible on our bedside drawer and opened it to find anything that could help. I know very little about prayer, but I remember how my wife does it and will mimic her. I opened to the book of Psalms and my eyes caught chapter two. “Why do the nations conspire and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth rise up and the rulers band together against the Lord and against his anointed…” “What?” My eyes widened at what I read. I hissed and was going to turn the pages for something more comforting when suddenly a voice invaded my thoughts. It is unmistakably clear and certainly not my own. “Continue!” The voice commanded and I did. “The One enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them. He rebukes them in his anger and terrifies them in his wrath.” I read aloud and stopped. “Please who are you and what do you want from me?” I cried. “Don’t kill me.” “How dare you touch the Lord’s anointed?” The voice said I could have feigned ignorance of what the voice referred to but that was not possible because at that instance I understood the question. “I am a police inspector sir. I am only doing the bidding of the President. Please don’t kill me.” “Like Your master, you are judged!” It said. My actions in the past months played before me in quick moving frames and for the first time I saw the evil I am. I had been appointed to my position six months ago by my country’s President. It was for his selfish desire to carry out dark deeds and have his tracks covered. He fed off of my greed and ruthlessness. The moral decadence in the force tripled under my watch. There were extortions and careless killings by the police I ignored. Personally, I have oppressed and eliminated people who the President desired eliminated. Many were his political opponents or activists whose activism threatened his presidency. Last month, a staunch political opponent of the president had been very outspoken about the incompetence of his leadership and rallied for impeachment. When I received the president’s call to take this opponent out, I arranged for his kidnap, did a quick job that included charing his remains. He was simply declared missing and has remained missing. The man in my custody is a pastor. Him like others is outspoken. At first, it was difficult to track him down but rounding up his family smoked him out of hiding. I was not afraid to lay hands on him because I thought he was like any other man. “I am sorry. Please don’t kill me.” I cried. A soft hissing sound blew across the room and I felt life draining out of me. Suddenly, my phone rang. I pushed back on the prevailing weakness and picked the call to cry for help. “The President is dead.” Said the voice at the other end and my heart failed. I simply gave in to the force pulling my life away and darkness took over.

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