Not all bugs that glow are fire flies. So if you’re looking for fireflies take your time, spend time and kill time. It would be worth finding the real deal rather than settling on any bug that glows. Every mole has a hole to hide in but not all holes have moles in them. Our Lord said it best: ‘foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.’
Not everyone has it, but everybody has something—something unique in nature, well-nurtured by the Creator. He owns the nickel and he owns the golden pot. So why cry your eyes out?
Why ran amok because of a broken pot?
Why hold your head and cry because of a lost nickel?
Why resort to vandalism and hooliganism?
What would you gain from that?
Absolutely nothing, you’d get nothing!
Don’t you know there would come a time the pot would lose its usefulness or better still break?
Don’t you know you could lose the nickel somewhere sometime?
And don’t you know that we fall to rise if we learn our lessons well and redeem our lost image?
Fall falls from grace to grass. A fall is like a wall –strong and formidable but when it falls it turns into rubbles. A fall is like a mall it gets crowded during daytime– people peopling everywhere but by midnight it’s deserted. She becomes a ghost town. She’s no friend.
A fall is like a long hall but it has an ending. It can never go beyond its limit. A fall is like a ball (football) when he’s high in the sky he forgets someone puts him there and sooner he drops like a meteor oblivious to where he would land. A fall is like Saul, dangerous, treacherous and unkind but if he repents he will be called Paul.
We are all blessed. We access his mercies, his grace, his blessings and his comfort. We find his favour every day and his goodness greets us wherever we pass and wherever we go.
Whatever we do he encourages us and he supports us. He says, he will never leave us nor forsake us. That means he’s with us 24/7. It is an assurance from our Lord, the one whose wings are bigger than the universe. The one whose breathe is capable of blowing the earth away.
Be reminded the wings of insects are tiny yet there are able to fly hours without crashing.
Who told you that?
Who told you that the magician or fetish priest will forever clutch onto to his magic wand when the originator (Mr. Cow) had already lost his?
I met politics at the Town Hall last Wednesday. Not the one that just passed, but the one that appeared to have gone for a sabbatical leave yet showed up audaciously. Everybody was there. It was a hush afternoon. But his presence soon changed the atmosphere. The crowd that hitherto lived in harmony seemed to have smoked something like weed. I suppose something more powerful than Ganja.
Bemused and confused I asked myself what the heck is going on?
What’s wrong with you my people are you going to allow this guy to tear us apart, break the solid bonds that we’ve established for God knows when?
Take a look around you and tell me what you see?
You see women, children and men. You see farmers, carpenters, traders, fisher folks, hairdressers and many more. You see the young and the old but all lived together as one people. Kafui is married to Serwaa, Ajalah is in relationship with Dadzie, Asorbayire is married to Frema, Kaku is my in-law and the list goes on…
In fact this would raise your eyebrow. I saw General Mosquito and Sir John quaffing at a tavern near my house at Tuobodom. How about that aren’t you ashamed of fighting your brother because of politics?
Aren’t you ashamed of making more enemies than friends because of politics?
Aren’t you happy that everything went well and cool and life still goes?
Anyway, so politics was fired up. He appeared so sharp and spoke so eloquently. He’d answers to all questions the public asked him. His Aaron’s beard and thick mustache got many ladies stealing glances with him while he was still politicking.
He promised this and he promised that —raising hopes and expectations of the people. And when everything seemed to have fallen apart eyes got red. Anger and frustration were seen on the streets chanting Aluta!
See, we toil, we struggle in our travels to make ends meet and then after all the travail we don’t even have a blanket to snuggle ourselves in. It reminds me of a man who lost his nickel on his way to a nickel shop. Looking livid and frustrated he told himself: “I’m not giving up my search until I find this coin. “ Besides, that was all he had so he couldn’t give up his search even though night was drawing nigh… He spent hours combing the spot where he believed he must have dropped the nickel.
Morning passed by afternoon came and evening passed by too. His search continued hoping to find the nickel. Finally when dusk approached the man could see nothing. There was a silver lining. The fireflies in the growth nearby produced lights which invited a Good Samaritan.
The Samaritan was ready to help the nickel man but he wouldn’t let go his lost nickel.
Why can’t we get over stuff? Why do we fight over spilt milk when there’s an alternative?
Why can’t we let go when there’s a bigger and powerful hand reaching out?
The owner of the Golden Pot seemed okay when it broke. “I give it all to God,” she said. Ironically those that drank from the pot got angry, hit the streets and wanted to lynch the young man who accidentally broke the pot. Really is that how we treat falls, accidents, defeats, failures etc.?
Let’s learn to appreciate both because they’re bedfellows. Let’s move on. And let’s remember, when it’s over it’s over.
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