A Hundred Years from Now

It will not make much difference,friend,
A hundred years from now,
If you lived in a stately mansion or a floating river scow 
If the clothes you wear are tailor-made or pieced together somehow.
If you eat big steaks or beans and cakes!
A hundred years from now won’t matter
What your bank account or the make of the car you drive,
For the grave will claim all your riches and fame
And the things for which you strive!
There’s a deadline we all must meet
No one will show up late.
It won’t matter all the places of being.
Each will keep, all places you’ll be in- each one will keep that day.
We will only have in eternity what we gave away on earth.
When we go to the grave,we can only save the things of eternal worth.
What matters, friend, the earthly things some men will bow,
For your destiny will receive a hundredfold.
You see, a hundred years from now…
The only thing that will matter is if We’re clothed in righteousness.
We’re not going to be the same in heaven; I tell you, We’re not…


A Stitch in Time

Did you know the average person gets up to about 9,672 minor injuries in a lifetime?  Fortunately, God in His own wisdom created the skin to heal – or we would sooner or later be looking like walking zebras.
A trip down memory lane got me stopping on my childhood avenue to appreciate a major experience. When I was a child – not that I am too old now – or better, when I was tender, little – yeah you get the point! Maybe age would clarify it. This happened when I was about 8 years old.
That Friday afternoon when school work and the week of educational slavery had us emancipated from them by the weekend, was like being ushered into an eternity of bliss – the irony being that we’d be back in three day, you see. We played like it was no one’s business anyhow. And like every typical student-child, I was doing my best to play hard; trying to rob shoulders with my older brother’s colleagues in a soccer game. It came to a point in the game where I had to get the ball off the pitch for a throw-in. Bending over to pick up the ball, another guy who I had no idea whether he was practising for Olympic cycling just crashed into my bent-over head.
Guess the next typical thing that happens after such an accident. Yeah right,  I was rushed to the hospital with a teacher’s face towel drenched from being pressed on the deep cut on the left part of my head. My brother and the teacher holding me up under my arms. The impression the scene generated when you caught sight of our entering the hospital was that of a superstar who had been injured while doing what doing what he knew to do best – know what I mean?
I was taken to the doctor who gave me a shot of analgesia to my head, Yes you got that right, my head! From there I saw myself being arranged on the operation table with the surgical lighting incandescently shining o’er me. Hitherto, the chorus I had been singing to God was,” Oh God let them just put some stypical stuff on it and patch me up with a plaster or two”. However, this chorus was thrown into a discord when I saw the plump woman in green and white pull from the sterilizer a panoply of sadistic equipment. The next thing I heard, “hold him down”. This woman after practising her barber’s skill on me, started, literally, putting a sort of metallic thread into my damaged skins and pulling them together. I happened to catch a glimpse of her facial contortion as she did that and all I could say was,” this woman is freaking wicked.” The pain mingled with the lighting effect had me wondering whether I was not fast approaching that city with pearly gates. At last, that excruciating episode came to an end and I walked out of the hospital with a stitch in time.
Later the Holy Spirit thought me something, you see. At that unbearable point in my injury I was looking for a solution that was the least painful and did not care about its repercussions; and truly what I was asking for would have been asking for a death wish to say the least. You know Why? Because only stitches could saved my life, reason being that the cut was deep and air could easily enter and cause me to be the late. I thought the nurse wicked until after I got to understand Why she did what she had done. She saved my life.
A lot of us as Christians are offended in Christ (Matthew 11:6) because many of us think of ourselves more of brainiacs than the omniscient God is – you say ,well, thats never true;  I’ll prove to you just how. We are always suggesting a “better” way God should have employed in His dealings with us. Just as in the Hospital, I had suggested a very comfy way of treating myself which was actually an invitation to death in a pinstriped suit .
The Bible tells us there is [always] a way that seems right to a man but the end leads to death. (Proverbs 16:25). God entreats us to trust His actions when He registers His Words in the 33rd chapter and the 3rd verse of the book of Jeremiah.
I want to end with this, whatever deep cut or injury you are dealing with, which may be causing your whole Christian temple to slough, whatever excruciating stitch you are enduring, just know that all things work together for those who love God and are called according to His purposes – Good news is, if you’re born-again then you’re called! A wise man once said that the fining pot is for the silver and the furnace for the gold.(Proverbs 17:3) Don’t settle for silver!  Go for gold! Embrace the furnace. Just like the Psalter says of Joseph:
Until the time His prediction came true the word of the Lord tested [purged] him. Ps. 105:19.
You may not like the process, but trust me, you will be captivated by the results.

Sticks and stones may only bruise skins. But words… The right words are the panacea we all need.