Have you ever searched for something and you just can’t find it? Scarcely a minute ago, it was in sight and now it isn’t. The more frantically you search, the more frustrated you become. If this describes your daily occurrences, you are not alone. It happened to me just the other day.
There I was in my room working on my research project. Hunger pangs knocked on the door of my good ol’ friend, the stomach. Threatened with torments of untold suffering, stomach decided to pay me a visit as well. In such a situation, ransom is the only solution, and the only language this age-old terrorist understood, was food. This prompted me to get up from my seat and get my wallet. The question was where is it? My bed? No, it wasn’t there. Book shelf? No, not there either. I rushed to the trousers I had worn during the day. Turned the pockets inside out and all that came out were bread crumbs (don’t ask!). By this time stomach was getting very impetuous and I on the other hand, very frustrated. As weird as this sounds (or reads), I remembered the drills advised by professionals in times of exam fever. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
1st drill- Breathe in…breathe out (*3)
2nd drill- Relax. Look around. Take a 5 minutes walk to lower your heart beat rate.
I wish I could tell you that I finished the drills. Stomach couldn’t allow me. So I switched to plan B. Logical reasoning. What color is it? Black. At this juncture, let’s pause for a while and allow me to talk to my brothers out there. There are only two colors that are acceptable for a man’s wallet. Black or brown. Due to the degenerative effect of time, any shade in between passes the test. In this generation, men are slowly but surely being turned into wimps. Look at the manicures, pedicures and all the other “ures” that men are subjected to. What about all this talk about men getting in touch with their feminine side? Is it any wonder that the average modern man’s pocket contains a lip balm, assorted nail cutters and all the other horrors? Where is the real man who accidentally carries a screw driver in his office suit? Where is the real man whose pens are all chewed at the top? Where is the real man who drinks his soda straight from the bottle? Where is that real woman who knows that that the sweat of a hardworking man is his cologne? Where…Oh! (Sob). I can’t go on. My heart languishes in pain.
Now back to that wallet. Black. My eyes roved the room as I kept muttering; Black! Black! Black! One would think I was chanting an old Negro freedom song. Then I saw it. There it was on top of a black speaker. A black wallet camouflaged on top of a black speaker. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind. If this wallet was my child, I would have flogged him into oblivion. If this wallet was my wife, I would have denied her conjugal rights for eternity. If…if…anyway there it was. I glared at it. It smiled back. Everything within told me to reach for its neck. However, just before all hell turned loose, a thought quietly slipped in. Pondering over this new thought and its source, I sat down next to the now laughing wallet.
“…clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ.”
As the devil goes about his antics, searching for someone to devour, does he see an easy prey in me? Am I conformed to the pattern of this world that makes me prone to his attack? Or am I clothed with the Lord Jesus Christ that the devil sees me now and the next minute wonders where I am? Indeed the psalmist wasn’t deceiving when he penned the following words so long ago.
“He will cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings, you will find refuge
“Because He loves me,” says the Lord, I will rescue him:
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.”
Psalms 91:4, 14.
I turned and faced the wallet. This time not with anger and rage, but with a smile that said, “thank you for teaching me this most important lesson.”
As for the stomach…well, let’s just say that he still lives.
I love you all.