Back in school, I was always in a dilemma– it was like a battle between what I wanted or needed and what other people expected me to want. Each time there was a knock on the door, my excitement was based on the presence or absence of my roommates; I got overly excited when the knock came in the absence of my roommates, and the opposite happened when my roommates were present. My excitement, however, turned into disappointment everytime I opened the door, because it was never the people I was expecting. My heart entirely broke into pieces each time my roommates opened the door and the faces of the people I had been expecting showed, because I had always preferred to host them in the absence of my roommates. They called themselves Sharers of The Gospel.
“We have a lot to do. Come by later!” My roommates lashed out at them several times.
“That’s fine. We’ll just like to leave this behind.” They would calmly say, and hand over a little pamphlet that communicated a fraction of what they wanted to say, and walk away.
Their little pamphlets were what caused me to desire their visitations, but not when my roommates were around. What would they think of me? I would completely disappoint the people I call my friends and lose them completely, so each time they walked through the door, when my roommates were present, I turned my focus from them, and always pretended to be busy, but deep within, I yearned to understand what kind of motivation led them to the doors of almost every room.
One divine afternoon, I met them right in front of my room, when they were about to knock, but I stopped them. “Don’t you people ever get tired? Is there money in this thing at all?” I calmly questioned. “We keep driving you away with all the harsh words we have, but it just brings you back here.” I sounded concerned, but they only smiled.
“We were told and encouraged in Matthew 10:21-23 about all these.” One of them spoke up.
“What is there?” I asked.
“When people realize it is the living God you are presenting and not some idol that makes them feel good, they are going to turn on you, even people in your own family.” He relayed the words, then, continued with a slight chuckle, “There is a great irony here: proclaiming so much love, experiencing so much hate!” He gave a wider smile, as he continued, and shook his right index finger at me, “But don’t quit. Don’t cave in. It is all well worth it in the end. It is not success you are after in such times but survival. Be survivors! Before you’ve run out of options, the Son of Man will have arrived,” another young boy said, and handed me a Bible.
I furrowed my brows, as I shook my head at what seemed like gimmicks to me. “But why would you sign up for something like this? I mean it’s like you have been told you’re going to jump into fire, but yet you still want to jump into it, anyway…” They were not making sense.
“Peace is what I leave with you; it is my own peace that I give you. I do not give it as the world does. Do not be worried and upset; do not be afraid,” a young lady quoted this time. “There are remedies to walking through what you describe as this fire, and not getting burnt. Everything we need for something like this (as you put it), has been provided, you just have to make the decision to walk through this fire, because after it all, there is a beautiful end.” She told me, but just when I thought she was making sense, she lost me– was I just supposed to somewhat believe there will be a beautiful end?
It was as though the other quiet young lady was reading my mind, as she quickly said, “Faith. That’s what it takes. In this world of treachery and somewhat unfairness, you have to believe in something, but make sure,” she paused and looked straight into my eyes, “make very sure your belief is in the Right Person.”
“So how do you know yours is right?” I asked.
“I experienced Him for myself. That’s the only way you can be convicted.” She told me. Her words were true, because I stand tall today, not because men have said, but because I have experienced The Divine Maker for myself.
