The 30 year old bend

There comes a point in every man’s journey when he has to pause and reflect. Sometimes this reflection is necessitated by a recent happening in his life; graduating from college, marriage, near severance of the silver cord, etc. However, in my case it was necessitated by an event wrought by the passage of time-my 30th birthday.

30 years ago a maiden became a maiden no more. She gave birth to a son and they named him Evans, the noble one. 30 years ago, the umbilical cord that supported him in his mother’s womb was severed. Yet another grew in its place, one that could not be severed. That cord is a mother’s love. I, Evans, have found that the older I grow, the more I realize how strong a mother’s love is for her child. Second to Agape’s, I have found it to be the most sacrificial.

28 years. That is the time I had confided in a friend that by then, I would be married, whether happily or not, I did not consider at the time. Two years on I am still a bachelor. Not the rogue kind as I was a few years ago but the elated and enlightened kind that has found the love of his life and hopes to be enjoined with her soon. Yes, soon. She cajoles me to set a date. I will, soon.

I am now in the University. That means I am still flipping pages in the search of knowledge. I never thought that in my 3rd decade on this earth, I would still be doing so. Nonetheless, that is the case. We all have our stations assigned to us at their times. At this point in time, the University is mine. I will not bother making unnecessary comparisons of myself with so and so. It is the easiest way of assigning me a bed in hospital.

I now consider myself a man. I did not become one when my foreskin was cut off for there were times thereafter when I was peevish and pathetically childish. Nor was it when I had my first romp between the sheets. Although pleasurable at the time, an agonizing pain in my heart was born out of the selfish act. It was not when I received my first salary. I quickly realized that it mattered not how much it was but how I spent it. Most definitely, it was not the first time I moved out of my parents’ home. Though, I momentarily revelled in the illusion of independence, it rudely dawned on me that the old folks still had a stake in my life. I became a man when I first realized that “choices have consequences” and more often than not, I was the ultimate bearer of those consequences…

A young man reached the 30 year-old bend yesterday. He woke up in the morning and took a deep breath, reminding himself not to get used to the experience to the point of being ungrateful for it. He went to church. Therein, every word resounded with serenity owing to the significance of the day to the obscure young man seated in the middle row. He drank in every word as though they had been spoken by Divinity in the flesh. Thereafter, he bowed his head and prayed…

“Dear Father, eight years ago, you met me while I was wandering upon the earth,

You interposed mine path and in mine heart wrought immeasurable mirth,

Now, in my 30th year, this side of heaven, I thank you for preserving me,

Now, in my 30th year, this side of heaven, my vision may you be,

Keep me in that narrow way until I behold you on your judgment throne,

Then I shall forget my mortal struggles and woes,

Then I shall tremble and rejoice”