It was a cool Wednesday evening, I rushed through work to make it early
for the mid-week service, which starts at 6:30pm. I like to get to church five
minutes before the service starts so I can be seated on the front roll. Seating
on this roll helps me focus, as my eyes will be glued to the altar, the pastor,
the worship leaders and no one else.
The theme for the month was Faith and we had had three powerful
teachings on the topic. We were on the last phase this week, which meant that
the General Overseer of my church will be preaching today. He liked to begin
and end the month with us and visit his other branches in between. I am
guessing this is to raise the momentum high as the month begins and close it up
on a high tempo at the end of the month.
Today, he talked about how
Christians allow their faith dwindle by
giving into fear and the negative images the devil puts in our minds. He
encouraged us to read our Bible often as we needed the word of God to address
situations in our lives. He went further to give us 3 strong faith building
verses in the Bible, one of which is Mark 11:22 – 23. Then he closed the
service with a healing ministration.
He asked that anyone who had any pain in their bodies laid hands on that
part of their body, then he prayed for the congregation and right before my
eyes, people came out to testify of their healing. Some of them had suffered
the pain for a good number of years and were genuinely grateful to God for
healing them. Oh it was such a powerful service.
Prior to this month, I had issues with my faith. I mean, I love and
trust God but I, sometimes, give into the tricks of the devil by allowing
myself pay attention to imaginations completely opposite what I was believing
God for and this discouraged me and weakened my prayer life. So in this
service, I decided to focus all my attention to every word he preached and
Bible verses he quoted but a call from a strange number was bent on distracting
me.
After the fourth ring, I picked up my phone and sent the caller a
message, informing the caller that I was in church and will return the call the
moment the service was over. The reply, “Okay, I will be waiting”, came almost
as soon as I hit the send button and the urgency was quite disturbing. Anyway,
I silenced my phone, replaced it in my bag and, this time, placed my bag on the
floor so I do not get distracted by the vibration of the phone.
At five minutes past nine PM, the service was over and I reached for my
phone to call the strange caller back as I made my way out of the church
building. To my greatest surprise, I had missed 10 calls from this person. I
was not sure if I was to be be irritated or anxious to find out what this
person was so eager to tell me. I mean, I had sent a message, what happened to
waiting for me to return the call.
On the first dial sound, the caller picked up as though under duress and
screamed,
“IS BIMPE WITH YOU?”
“Who is this?” I responded with no attempt to hide my irritation.
“It is Bimpe’s mother, my dear, please help me o. I think Bimpe is about
to commit suicide!” She replied in fear.
“COMMIT SUICIDE!” I screamed and ended the call in shock.
‘What is happening? What was she saying? Why is she not calling with the
number I have saved on my phone as Mummy Bimpe?’ I thought to myself as fear gripped
my whole body. I ran as fast as I could to the rest room behind the church
auditorium, totally ignoring her call as I ran. I did not understand what was
going on, neither did I know why I felt the need to make the call in the ladies
instead of where I stood but that just felt like the right thing to do at the
time.
On getting to the ladies, I stood in front of the mirror, place my left
hand on the sink in front of the mirror, picked up the call and said,
“Hello ma.”
“Bimpe put up ‘Goodbye World’ on her WhatsApp status like two hours ago
and since then, her number has been switched off. Please, when was the last
time you spoke to Bimpe? What is she going through? Do you know where she is?”
She asked in a rush.
“When was the last time I spoke to Bimpe”, I repeated these words and
the answer made me feel like the worst person on earth.’ A week ago, two maybe,
or even three; I couldn’t remember.
“Not long ago ma.” I responded, waited for some seconds and said, “Let
me call you back ma.” Then ended the call.
I rushed to Bimpe’s WhatsApp status, to confirm what her mother had just
told me and low and behold, the words stood there, in bold, white fonts, on a
green background, ‘GOODBYE WORLD!”
“What is wrong with you Bimpe?” I asked out loud, only to turn to my
side to see a lady looking at me in amazement. When my eyes met hers, she
looked away quickly and walked to my side, washed her hands in the sink and
walked out of the room.
I called Bimpe’s number but it was switched off. I called it three more
times, in the hope that it would miraculously come on so I could tell her how
wrong the decision she was about to take was. I was met with the same response.
‘The number you’ve dialed is switched off.
*************
You see, Bimpe has been my best friend for six years now. We graduated
from the University two years ago and she has not been able to get a graduate
job since then. All the jobs she got were jobs meant for a mere secondary
school certificate holder that paid a little above N40,000. The last one she
got was more or less a scam.
She was assigned a business development role for a logistic company, who
linked cargo owners to truck drivers. She had been very optimistic about this
one during the interview process. ‘This was supposed to be my big break’, she
always said, because the owners had flown in from America to start up the
company.
After she passed the interview, she resumed work, only to inform me that
the pay was N25,000 per month. She said her employers told them, her and her
fellow business developers, that if they did not like the pay, they could
resign as there were millions of Nigerians begging for opportunities like this.
It did not make any sense to me but I felt I was not in the position to
tell her what to do because she had been unemployed for four long and miserable
months before she got this one.
“What will you do, Bimpe?” I had asked her.
“Take the job nuh ni. After all, a bird at hand is worth a thousand in
the bush and like they said, millions of Nigerians will kill for this
opportunity.
Two months later, she resigned from the job due to salary delay. And
this is the second weeks after her resignation.
I snapped myself back to present day.
*************
‘What do I do? How do I help Bimpe? What if she is dead?’ I thought to
myself and then my mind went back to my Pastor and the very powerful message he
had just preached.
I rushed out of the rest room and headed to my Pastor’s office to ask
him to pray that God sends help to my friend wherever she was.
As I got to his office, there were protocol personnel standing at the
door of the office.
“I have to see Pastor J.” I told one of them.
“Oh, you are here for the meeting?” He asked.
“Yes, the meeting.” I replied with a nod hoping my nod will make my lie
convincing.
He led me through the protocols, to the entrance of the office. Then
immediately, the door opened. A guy and a lady came out of the office.
“She is also here for the meeting.” He told the guy coming out of the
office.
“Sadly, my dear, the meeting is over. I will just brief you on what we
discussed.” He said to me.
At this point, I could see my Pastor through the slightly opened door,
so I responded,
“I just have to see Pastor J. Okay, there is no meeting but I have to
see him now. Please, it is very important.
“I am sorry but you have to give him some minutes because he is in with
someone.” The guy coming out of the office replied.
I nodded and went to stand just behind the protocols and waited. Five
minutes later, I heard them whisper in a low tone. I knew it was about me and
my wanting to see the Pastor. If only they knew that I have never been one to
go meet with any Pastor after a service but today was different. Bimpe’s life
was involved and I needed him to exert all that faith he just preached with in
telling God to send help to my best friend.
The whisper grew louder and time went by, then suddenly, something
stirred up in my inside. I heard a voice loud and clear in my spirit say to me,
“So if Bimpe were to be hanging herself to death, do you think that she
will not be dead before your Pastor is done with all that he is doing. And,
come to think of it, is it not the same God that your Pastor will talk to, that
you have access to?”
And just as if a light bulb lit up in my head, I packed my bag and went
straight into the church building, walked to front of the altar, sat on the
same seat I was on earlier and closed my eyes for some minutes, shutting out
the voices in my head and I said,
“Dear Lord, please send help to Bimpe wherever she is. Please don’t
allow her kill herself, it will not give you glory, neither will it give us,
your children, pleasure. Please Lord, in Jesus Name, Amen.
Immediate I said those last words, my phone rang. It was Bimpe’s mother
and fear engulfed my whole body all over again. I did not know which was a
better option, picking the call or not. So I allowed it ring and end but it was
back before I could take a breather. I picked it up this time,
“Hello ma.”
“Omo mi, what is happening? Have you heard anything from her.” She said
is a very low tone. She was weak, I could feel it. Oh God, I did not want
anything to happen to her as well, so I heard myself say,
“Yes ma. I have spoken to Bimpe. she is fine and on her way home.”
“EHN? What did you just say? You say she is fine? That you have spoken
to her?”
“Yes ma, I have.” I followed up.
“Yehhhhhhhh! Eleda mi ooooooo!” She screamed and went on praising and
worshiping God in her native dialect for about five minutes.
I did not think it was right to end the call at this time, so I just
kept responding, “Amin” when I needed to.
Suddenly, she stopped for some seconds, as though she just realized that
it was wiser to get the number I spoke to Bimpe with and confirm for herself.
Now, this was the right time to end the call, I thought myself. As I was
taking the phone off my ear, I heard her shout,
“HAA! BIMPE! Don’t kill your mother! Where have you been?”
“What? Mummy, is Bimpe back? Is she at home now?”
But my questions fell on deaf ears as I heard her and what sounded like
Bimpe’s voice cry. That was when I ended the call.
‘Bimpe was alive!’ how relieving this realization was. I leaned back on
my seat with my face facing the ceiling, I shut my eyes and cast my mind back
to my ordeal at the Pastor’s office.
Isn’t it funny that I just heard a very powerful message about what my
faith in God can do and I still dwelt in fear. Isn’t it funnier that when the
trial came, it was my Pastor that I ran to for help first instead of God?
I hope this gets you thinking.
God is God all by himself. He doesn’t need our Pastors to be who He is
or do what He can and will do. And we, Christians, need to realize that our
lives are in the hands of God and not in any man’s hand. He is God and He has called
us His children.
Funny enough, the verse the Pastor preached earlier, Act 11; 22 – 23,
says that if we say to a mountain, be thou removed and cast into the sea and we
believe without any wavering doubt, it will come to pass. And when I was faced
with my mountain, I did just the opposite. I did not say anything but ran to my
Pastor to say for me.
Please my dear, let’s not allow our beliefs cut us short from the power
and glory of God. Let us go boldly to the Throne of God and obtain Mercy,
Grace, Help, Guidance, Favor and any other thing we need.
I thank God for my friend’s life but I thank God more for the scare. It
has taught something greater than what any human has ever taught me.
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