Sit On Your Egg

I just left a senior colleague's table at the office but my heart is still sitting and my ears are wide open to all he had to say about me, about him, about the future. I feel inspired to write this to encourage someone out there.

There is a mystery that surrounds the egg. This mysterious mystery is not so much a misery, it's simply this: you can't tell what an egg would hatch.

Growing up, my father (Late Pa Micheal Ekundayo) though highly educated, a graduate of the prestigious OAU was fond of farming. We (his children) hated farming; walking down the narrow bush paths in the early morning with the irritating feeling of dew on grass blades scratching at our legs, accompanied by the buzz and comfort of early morning flies - we felt like ripe rotten mangoes. We would sometimes cry and slap at ourselves from the bite of sand flies late into the evenings when we plucked beans with bent backs. There was the melon (Egusi), rotten and smelling in greenish-brown decaying pods which we had to scoop out with our hands - sometimes we wore nylon made hand gloves but I'm yet to know a perfume so strong as the smell that came with it. No matter how much you scrub and bath and spray and breath, you'll still smell of it for a minimum of two to three days. But father didn't care what we thought or how we felt, he would tell us that was what his father brought him up with. He would make us understand that if he looked to inherit anything from his father, it would only be a farm (his father had no bicycle.) He would tell us we shouldn't look forward to inheriting anything from him other than what we earned for ourselves under him.

I grew up with these values and it shaped my thoughts of being a man; i found (and still find it) hard to give my clothes out for washing, to leave dishes unwashed, to be lazy, idle, dirty, untidy or totally dependent on people for my entire well-being. My father was also given to rearing animals, so we went from tying goats in raining seasons, to feeding chickens in all seasons.

So I've been thinking and reconciling facts about the eggs and the hen. I've since observed the hen;

- Back then, some of our hens were so devoted to their eggs that for 21 whole days, you wouldn't see them leave the eggs, they would sit diligently. I recall some nights when we had to get out of bed to watch a fight between some of our hens and snakes. They were usually fierce fights that ended with the snakes escaping but left the brave chicken with a bite and death on or before morning. They were so willing to fight and die for their eggs.

- There are certain times (particularly during the peak of the Babangida era and Abacha) that we largely ate eggs from our hen, as meat was costly. At that time, we removed the eggs some of our hens laid and made a meal of it. However the situation, I noticed some of these hens would passionately sit on the spot where these eggs were laid, until we drove them away repeatedly. They didn't care if we ate their eggs, they were willing to mate and lay again. They were 'dogs' - so dogged.

- There were countless times we had to throw rotten eggs away - eggs that didn't hatch after the incubation period - they smell the worse.There is no guarantee that every egg would hatch, yet the hen is willing to sit on it. This uncertainty didn't stop the hen, it was always determined that even if it would hatch a chick out of ten eggs, it was worth the wait and the raise.

Enough said of the many animal lessons. Now to you and to me, how willing are you and I to sit on our dreams. How dogged are we to fight and if necessary 'die' for them. Every dream, like the egg, comes with a lot of uncertainty, we can't if they would hatch, if the chicks would grow into chickens or die as chicks, we can't tell if they would be hens or cocks... but are we willing like the hen to incubate, hatch and raise our eggs? One key note is this - whatever comes out of an egg, no matter how small, no matter how fragile... is always bigger and better than the egg, even if it fails or get carried away by the hawk, it was always worth the wait and the try.

I'm urging you today, Sit on your Egg, incubate that Egg, Hatch that Chick and Raise that Chicken. The world is waiting but it's all under your choice to brood or live and walk the earth as a god who died a mortal.

Melchizedek, son of Michael. [2/9/2016] photo credit: wisegeek dot org

The Dangers of Falling in Love (Part 2)

Anchor:

Songs of Solomon 8:6: “Set me as a seal upon your heart, As a seal upon your arm; For love is as strong as death… Its flames are flames of fire, A most vehement flame..” (NKJV)

In Part 1 of our discussion, we were able to point out some key factors about falling in love and the state of the heart; we were able to note that;

•      Contrary to common opinion, love is not blind and we don’t actually ‘fall’ in love, we walk into it, it’s a decision we actually make either consciously or unconsciously.
•      We also made it clear that the heart is the center of our being and whomever we let into it, we automatically grant that person a right over our spirit, soul and body.
•           And we concluded that irrespective of whoever we have let into our hearts, which made a mess of things, we can still find hope and renewing in Christ Jesus.

On this note, we forge ahead to conclude this admonition.

"Love is a force; it is actually the greatest force in the whole universe. Like a mighty rushing wind or a raging flood, it is capable of throwing a full grown man off his feet. It’s so strong that God in His Almightiness gave His Only Begotten Son (Jesus) for You and I."

From our Anchor scripture, we read the concluding part ‘…for love is as strong as death… its flames are flames of fire, a most vehement flame.’ These short but strong lines are the very key indicators that spark when the dangers of falling in love are highlighted. As I meditate on this verse, I imagine love as a mighty water that usually stands at the door of our heart, we can’t be too sure about controlling it, we can’t be too sure how much measure of it would rush in when we open up the doors of our heart just a little. Love is a force; it is actually the greatest force in the whole universe. Like a mighty rushing wind or a raging flood, it is capable of throwing a full grown man off his feet. It’s so strong that God in His Almightiness gave His Only Begotten Son (Jesus) for You and I. There is a major mistake we make, time and again, we often think we can control love but that’s not true. We can, and should control our emotions which are the locks on the door of our heart but we must know that love, like its sisters (joy, peace…) cannot be measured, they have a way of taking us by surprise. If we can however put our emotions under control, we would have been able to ‘control’ the measure of love and to whom we give it to in our lives.

"There is a major mistake we make, time and again, we often think we can control love but that’s not true. We can, and should control our emotions which are the locks on the door of our heart but we must know that love, like its sisters (joy, peace…) cannot be measured, they have a way of taking us by surprise."

I have seen relationships where the lady (quite often the case but not necessarily) was constantly being abused by this man she loved. Although she had to put up with his drinking and smoking and beating her up, cheating on her, accusing her and even demanding money from her, she just couldn’t stop loving him. We may sit back and call her stupid and even make claims that you and I are not that dump, but the truth is we are merely underestimating the power and the force of love and do not grasp its superiority over the potent power of death. I once was in a relationship with a lady who cheated on me on several occasions, given the gift of visions and dreams, I would have a dream of her stabbing me in the back, hugging different men and all that. I would wake up with the interpretations of these dreams, call her and ask her if she was cheating on me, she would deny it, cry and claim that I didn’t trust her. I would beg her and butcher myself for ‘accusing’ her but every time she cheated on me, I would somehow catch her red-handed. I was so fortunate that some of her secret lovers became my friends by chance and disclosed how they had dated her behind my back. But in ALL these, I would forgive her, beg her and believe that she would somehow change and be faithful. I tried to do everything I could, broke my promises and principles and bank accounts and all for her but she didn’t change and she cheated and broke up with me but I couldn’t stop loving her – such is the power of love, stronger than death. It’s like a vehement fire; it consumes the entirety of our being.

Like water, fire is one of the elements that can barely be controlled: on a candle stick, on a burning stove, in a furnace, it looks under control, friendly and working for our good but it is naturally restless and always looking for avenues to express itself; it has no friends, it has no foes. Such is Love. Such is the danger of falling in love. 

"Like water, fire is one of the elements that can barely be controlled: on a candle stick, on a burning stove, in a furnace, it looks under control, friendly and working for our good but it is naturally restless and always looking for avenues to express itself; it has no friends, it has no foes. Such is Love. Such is the danger of falling in love."

Then comes the question, ‘Are you saying we should not fall in love?’ No! The argument is this, in realizing that Love is stronger than death, that it is a force, a fire that we can’t truly control, it becomes our ultimate responsibilities to ensure that we fall in love with the right persons. If we fall in love with the right person, we are like candles ignited by the fires of love, gently melting away but emanating the beauty of light; neither the thread or the wax feels threatened by the fire, they both begin and die together. But to fall in love with the wrong person is like wool before fire, a burning house; there is no beauty, just chaos, confusion and casualties. We get burnt, and if the fire is not put out immediately, we burn out, and could ultimately lose our lives.  

"If we fall in love with the right person, we are like candles ignited by the fires of love, gently melting away but emanating the beauty of light; neither the thread or the wax feels threatened by the fire, they both begin and die together. But to fall in love with the wrong person is like wool before fire, a burning house; there is no beauty, just chaos, confusion and casualties. We get burnt, and if the fire is not put out immediately, we burn out, and could ultimately lose our lives." 

Are you currently in an abusive relationship or in love with someone who doesn’t love you in return? Perhaps you are feeling helpless and restless, maybe defending him or her and pretending that all is going well and hoping that this habit, abuse… would change by magi, my dear, the truth is you are in love and you may be totally wrong. You need help, you can still call your emotions to order and quench this strange fire before you are completely burnt out. The aim of love is to love till death do us part but it has to be with the right person, someone who is equally ready to give their all for you as you would for them. Someone you can be happy with all the days of your live, someone you would wish to marry again if there was ever an opportunity to return to the world again and re-begin life. You may not need to, You MUST have to talk to your parents, a counselor, your pastor and elder or someone responsible and trustworthy about your current predicament. Believe you me, that lady or gentleman is not the best of the rest in the world, you can truly find another man or woman who brings joy and satisfaction to your life today. However, you need to talk to God about it, to invite Jesus into your heart, to restore order and love and say ‘peace be still’ to every flood of love that has ravaged, blinded and devastated your being because of the wrong persons.

Kindly say this prayer with me, 

‘Lord Jesus, I call upon you to help me, to restore peace and sanity to my heart and place your seal by your Holy spirit upon my heart. Deliver me from every bondage of love to the wrong persons, open my eyes and my mind of understanding, help me find my way and the one who truly loves me according to your will for me, so that I may live my life without bitterness and hatred and anger in Jesus name. Amen.'

Have you said this prayer, have you been touched or encouraged but still need to talk to someone today? You can reach us at: kayodeakomolafe@gmail.com, whatsapp: +2348065269630 or bbm: 2BBFF6CB.

Remain Blessed.

Melchizedek, son of Michael

The Dangers of Falling in Love (Part 1)

Anchor:

Songs of Solomon 8:6: “Set me as a seal upon your heart, As a seal upon your arm; For love is as strong as death… Its flames are flames of fire, A most vehement flame..” (NKJV)

This morning I’ll be sharing briefly with us on the subject of love and the dangers of falling in love. I didn’t think I’ll be sharing this until I got on the bus and it became a prompting in my spirit. As I write, I’m reflecting on the countless open and disguised posts, comments, display pictures (DPs), profile messages (PMs) and even the kind of books and songs we read and play on various social media outlets, they are largely suggestive of one thing – a breaking, broken , wounded or healing heart. A couple of months ago a young man in Ghana was reported to have committed suicide, leaving behind a suicide note, because of a lady he loved who left him. While his picture roamed the web and various social media with insults, I paused and realized that there is a force, so strong, that men, if given to, would give their life for – Love.

In doing justice to this topic, I’ve decided to consult no other person than the man whom history describes to have had more relationships with women, tribes and people than any man known – King Solomon. In one of his books, Songs of Solomon chapters 8 verse 6 (See Anchor Above), he begins by saying, “Set me as a seal upon your heart …” Why was he admonishing the need to set a seal upon our hearts? We recall that Proverbs 4:23 says,

“Keep your heart with all diligence, For out of it spring the issues of life. (NKJV)” 

In relating with these two scriptures, it becomes clear that King Solomon identifies that whatever can get into the heart of a man can take over the whole of a man. In medical and biological sciences, we are made to understand that naturally, the function of the heart is to carry blood to every part of the body, hence it is proven that if you can poison a man’s heart, you can kill that man, because the heart by nature evenly distributes whatever it has to all members of the body. King Solomon is not suggesting to us but in a way insisting that there is a need to set a seal upon our heart, in other words, to have a standard, a door of checks and balances that examines who and what goes into our heart.

In relation to falling in love, King Solomon is trying to say, if you are careless or unreasonable about whoever you grant entry into your heart, you’ll have been careless to will your entire self; spirit, soul and body to a total stranger. Another point I want to draw from this is the word ‘SET’ that introduces the entire verse. What does it mean? It means, contrary to the general believe that love is blind, that we can fall in love without knowing… it insists that to fall in love is actually and totally a choice. It’s not some stone or height that we stumble on or fall from (if directly defined.) Love is absolutely a choice you make. I have heard ladies say, ‘he was very nice, he did this and did that and before I knew, I fell in love with him…’ but the truth remains that every act of the opposite sex for which we claim we fell in love, did not happen overnight, they were like promptings to our hearts, daily, hourly or weekly transactions to which we gradually nodded ‘yes’ to until we let our seals down and let them into our hearts (our entire being.) It is important that we come to agree that that lady or gentlemen did not charm or seduce us without our consent, no matter our claims; it still remains a fact that somewhere on our inside we danced to their tune and removed our seals. It is important at this point, for us to know that need to guard or set a seal over our hearts is not an option but a mandatory obligation to each and every one of us.

While I leave us to meditate on this before we continue this discussion, I’ll like to ask someone reading this, ‘Do you have a seal over your heart or do people just walk in and walk out like a city without walls?’ Maybe that explains why you have suffered more heartbreaks than your forefathers put together. Maybe that explains why you are bitter, feel cheated and can’t trust anyone any more. But the problem is not those who came into your life and messed things up, the problem is a question of who opened the door and let them in, the problem is YOU!

Irrespective of how many times you have let your guard down or broken the seal over your life, irrespective of how devastated your life is and how bad you feel and think things can no longer be fixed in your life, I have good news for you. You can take a stand today and set a seal over your heart and by so doing stop every advancement of unauthorized persons into your life.

Do you feel totally damaged and feel like committing a suicide or dying right now as a result of a recent heart break? Pray with me:

Dear heavenly father, I’m helpless, hurt and wounded and my life makes no meaning to me anymore. But unto you I call, heal my heart and set a seal over it by your spirit. Help me know your love for me, help me forgive and find peace and that person you designed to fill my life with love and joy through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Remain Blessed.

Melchizedek, son of Michael

For prayers and counseling: kayodeakomolafe@gmail.com

Photo Credit: cupofjo dot com

Across the River

photo credit: google

We were gathered at the village square deliberating about the fight at the river bank, about the little girl that was raped by youths from the next village in the face of the river, in the eyes of her brothers that were beaten into shades of blue and black. We were angry that the three brothers had plucked out their eyes in regret of the evil they had beheld, and they had cut off their hands – placing them under rocks, in claims that they offered no help when it mattered most. Our woes pilled when their sister, Ujala, who was the center of their grief, hung herself and dangled from the rafters of her room because she knew she was a beauty among all the ladies but her rape would afford her no man. We were drunk with a vengeance, intoxicated with wrath at what the youths from Killifantuna did, until Zuka arrived and cleared his throat.

His only eyes were red with black veins running at the base. A badge covered his other eyes, we were told while we grew, that there is a red dry hollow in there. The thick long scar lined down the top of the damaged eye, over the eyelash, over the eyebrow and cut deep like a tribal mark into his cheek. It was said he plucked out his own eye with his hands. He had been involved in a fight with Zafun, the warrior of Killifantuna at the same river where Muna the beautiful and her brothers, sons of Kobo had been desecrated. He sat on the dead root of a tree in the center of the square. It was called the warrior's chair. No one ever sat on it; the giant tree was hewn down by our late King and made a stool for Zuka and his descendants forever. It was a powerful sit, so powerful that the birds of the air didn't fly across, lizards didn't claim for a territory, wayward chickens didn't perch on and no other man, not even the members of the King's house dared sat on.

His presence brought with it, water, the cooling of our fires. He was revered as a god. Only the King doesn't bow to him. He barely speaks, he was always thinking. Every word that came out of his mouth could be counted without exhausting the fingers, or touching the toes – they were like gold.

‘I have heard,' he said, ‘but we shall not attack.'

He stood up. His coat of lion's skin girded around his aging body, he left us, our rage watered down by his words.

We were angry. We were very angry. But no one talked. Everyone, in every house, on every farm, in every place, had ears to mouths of whispers. The grief was much for Kobo and his wife; their amputated sons had refused to eat and died. Kobo and his wife later poisoned themselves. Words had gotten to the king. More words in volumes enough to fill a book, but all he did was sigh and shake head in silence. Zuka had spoken and that was all.

The days passed and we ate roasted yams dipped in red oil, in anger. We planted all through that season in grief, so that the produce of that year was low. Even our cattle had more miscarriages, the milk of cows were low. Chicken eggs were as small as a dove's. Nights were long, dew was scarce, and days were hot and dry. Children born in that year, that season had their names marked with grief, so that women avoided their husbands. Even the loins of the husbands lacked motivation and erection. Our hearts were set on war. We had abandoned the river; the river where our grief began, where our sorrows sprang. We would stand and look at the smoking huts of Killifantuna, at nights, the cheer of their drunken men around camp fires, their chants. It hurt us to know that just this river separated us from paying vengeance – eye for an eye with our neighbors, our enemies.

Three seasons later, we lived on accepting but never forgetting that day, the events and the lives that went with it. Our women had returned to the river with our men standing watch. The children had begun to play again. A little laughter sometimes escaped from the fart of a child or the snore of an elderly. It wasn't us – men and warriors, that stood with angry faces in the village square. It was the women and their goods, their rumors, lies and gossips that filled that air. Until Zuka arrived and sat on his throne, and cleared his throat. Then the woman left with their children, the noise and voice ceased like a herd of antelopes that the wind had brought rumors of encroaching lions.

We, the men, the warriors, arrived. Some red with earth from the farm, some with gourds of palm-wine … we stood from noon till the yellow sun began to set. No one had spoken, not even a careless whisper or the scratch of tired feet against the earth. We watched his eye, his only eye dart around as we waited for gold – his words.    

      

‘Return home, fetch your weapons. Now, we attack.' He said and sat still on his stump.

Every man returned home and fetched his weapon. We matched across the river when the sun sunk into the earth. The people of Killifantuna were not expecting us. We arrived when their men were drunk and their warriors had women down their waists. We returned that night with smoke and fire behind our backs. We crossed the river with joy and the heads of the boys that were identified as the culprits at the river –three seasons ago. We hung them on stakes in front of the ruins, of the house of Kobo. Together with the king, we matched back to the village square to pay tribute to Zuka, the wise, the eternal warrior. For only then did we realize that had we attacked three seasons ago, we would have been killed in our anger and burned and buried with our grief. For the people of Killifantuna were not our match, one of their men could withstand two of ours and not spill a blood or lose a tooth.

When we arrived at the village square, the moon was standing over the stump throne of Zuka, he had his arrow of a staff in his right hand. He had not left his place since we left for war, his eyes were set across the river. For the first time, he had a faint smile hanging in his eye bags and the furrows of his jaw lines. Captured in his eyes were the fires from the land that had brought our fathers, and their fathers before them to their knees. His mouth never opened as we stood and bowed our heads in silence – the king as well. It was when morning came and the sun rose that we knew that Zuka, who was here, was gone.  

 

  ©Melchizedek, son of Michael 20/5/2016