Reflections on a Beautiful Day

On Being Accountable

2011-08-17T21:46:00.004+01:00

I went in response to a revelation and set before them the gospel that I preach among the Gentiles. But I did this privately to those who seemed to be leaders, for fear that I was running or had run my race in vain.

Galatians 2:2

“Do you have any weaknesses?”, she asked me, looking me straight in the eye, unblinking.

I gave an uneasy giggle, trying to read her face. It was serious. Dead serious. All the joking and jabbing stopped here as Dr. Logan stared me down. Her pale face was framed with wiry strands of blond hair in need of a comb and her thin lips were pursed, unsmiling. It was hard to believe that this was the same person who minutes ago had been churning out one-liners a mile a second.

“Uhm… yeah…” I stuttered, my mind going into overdrive. Everyone has weaknesses, I thought. Is this a trick question?

A mere 24 hours before I had first met this wiry middle-aged lady as I sat at a desk poring over a poorly patient’s latest bloodwork. “Hi, I’m Dr. Logan,” she said, thrusting a sinewy hand in my direction, “Julie. I’m going to be your clinical supervisor for the next six months.”

Indeed I had been looking forward to meeting her for a couple of weeks now and here I was, finally in her office, for our first official encounter. The meeting had started with a quick and easy interrogation as she got a quick run-down of my medical training up to this point and a feel of what I wanted to achieve in this particular stint in geriatric medicine. She was easy to talk to, all nice and smiling, even jabbing the odd elbow in my direction every once in a while. But now, as she asked that question, her countenance had all but changed. And I felt it. This, here, was the question that mattered the most.

Indeed, like she had already noted, I have quite a bit of experience in clinical medicine and the best way she could help me to make the most of this posting was to know what my deficiencies are - how best she could help me along. And so she asked, “Do you have any weaknesses?” No, it wasn’t a trick question.

Mariam and I have recently had the pleasure of reading Paul’s terrific diatribe against the church at Galatia. In his letter he outlines how he became entrusted with the true gospel by revelation of Jesus Christ and how he preached it faithfully to the fledgling congregation. However, midway through his missionary sojourns in Asia Minor, Paul took a major detour to return to Jerusalem, the city where it all started - where the Jesus he preached was crucified and died. While there, he made no assumptions as to the truth of his own message but set it plainly, as he understood it, before the Church elders. His intention was to find out if indeed what he had been speaking was the true and complete gospel (Galatians 2:1-10).

Is it not wonderful that men like Paul, established as they were in the Word, would stop long enough to make themselves accountable to others? That they would seek to refine their message and become even better than they were? Is not that the purpose of having someone to whom one could turn - some person to hold you accountable?

In medicine it is prudent, if not vital, that while I remain in training, someone has the responsibility to see that I develop myself; that my weaknesses are identified and dealt with. Students have their professors and apprentices have their mentors. Oh, that we would have Christian men and women to whom we could turn and say, “I have a weakness…”.

A big thank you to all who have served this purpose for me through my life. You know yourselves. God bless you.

With love, Doosuur.

At the Pelican Crossing

2011-02-28T23:20:00.003+01:00

I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance... Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.
Revelations 2:2-5

I was sitting in the back row, taking in the sights of Scarborough in the evening, as our number 10 bus idled at a red traffic light. Out of the corner of my eye a quick motion caught my attention and I turned just in time to see it. A young man, sixteen or seventeen perhaps, with an oversized jacket full of so much color it would have made Joseph green with envy, and jeans riding oh-so-low, was approaching the pelican crossing, bopping his head to the music emanating from his extra large headphones. He took a quick step towards the pedestrian barriers at the crossing and in one fluid motion vaulted the steel barricade and then walked off with, oh, so much swagger. He had hardly broken stride from approach to scale to push off. Wow! It would have taken three or four more steps to walk round the steel bars and cross the proper way but that was so uncool, wasn’t it? Who does that when there’s a three foot fence to jump over?

I suppressed a snicker as I quickly realized it would probably have been more of a sneer borne out of my jealousy that at a measly thirty-odd years I have neither the spunk nor the sprite to do such a thing. It was all in a days work for him; for me and my growing paunch, it would take a few weeks plotting. You could excuse him and call it youthful exuberance but you’d look at me and call me downright foolish. He had hardly expended any energy, I would be lucky to get away with my front teeth intact. But oh, how I wished I could do that again!

And it’s not just him I envy. I look at our friend John’s new baby, sleeping calmly and I wish I hadn’t a care in the world! I watch my nephew trying his hand out on some Lego® and I wish I could put my creative instincts to such idle work. I have such nostalgia for secondary school and the legendary experiences I had there which we will talk about till the day we die. Can you feel me here? There are many things I did once upon a time and will never do again. But then there are some that perhaps I should!

Like just sit and read the Word and love it. Like drive off to nowhere and bask in the presence of a mighty God while I watch the beautiful sunset. Like go on my knees and pray my heart out.

Do I read Scripture? Oh yes I do. Do I pray? To be sure! But when I remember the passion and desire with which I did these once upon a time there is more than just a hint of nostalgia. I wish I could go back and do those things again with the same energy and excitement and ... and love! I want to rediscover the love of Christ that held me, the truth of God that inspired me, the grace of Jesus that thrilled me. These truths are as real to me as ever, but perhaps I do not just stop and enjoy them as often as I once did. Now I am older and wiser but surely that must enhance my worship, rather than hinder it, no?

As we grow in Christ we must stop often, take stock and, like John through the Spirit advised the Ephesian church in our verse today, “do the things you did at first.” So here’s to reliving our early Christian experience. Share with us! What did you do once upon a time that you would love to do again? You just might have a great idea that will inspire somebody’s worship and help an old Christian grow young again. Go ahead, share it with us!

With love, Doosuur.

Mini-Mental State Examination

2011-02-20T22:54:00.001+01:00

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

They were more like the scratches of a mother hen in the loose soil, the barely legible scrawl of her scrawny hand. She had taken the piece of paper out of my hand in response to a question I had just asked and the ball-point in her small hand quivered as she held on to it, a little too tightly.

This lovely eighty-something year old lady was gaunt and unkempt, her tousled silver-gray hair framing a pale and wrinkled face with jutting cheek bones. It was clear to anyone who cared to look that she had once upon a time been quite the stunner. Her beautifully angled face would most certainly have turned a few heads in her day. Her arms must have been strong and her feet nimble. But those days were far long gone. And today, while she sat with me, in a hospital bed, I wondered how much of her life gone by she could remember. Not very much, I presume. Because the reason I was sat there, interviewing her with a string of statements I had prefaced as “silly questions”, was that the Consultant, on the rounds the day before had described her as “increasingly confused.”

I was given the rather pleasant task of conducting a mini-mental state examination on this lady in order to, if you will allow it, find out just how with it she really was. “Do you know where you are now?”, “What month of the year is it?” I asked her in turn.

She would score a respectable eleven out of thirty, but she got full marks for her response to my question, “would you please write a sentence for me? Any sentence will do.” As she took the pen from my hand and began to write I honestly did not expect her to come up with anything. What a pleasant surprise, then, when I noticed she was trying her darnedest to make out a letter “T”. Well now, I thought, perhaps there is something to hope for - a little comprehension to hang onto.

Next came an “h”. What now? Hmmm... Perhaps “The quick brown fox...?”

But then, “a”, each letter taking five or more seconds to carve out, her handwriting more like a chisel in granite than an ink pen on paper.

“T-h-a-n-k ...” It was by now obvious where this was going, but as I smiled, I let her finish. It might take me five minutes to get this sentence out of her but I would let her speak her piece.

In the end the words, “Thank you very much” had been not so much written as cajoled out of the pen but how very pleased I was. Not so much that her gratitude was towards me, indeed it most likely was not because I had done nothing deserving of thanks, but that her “any” sentence would be one of thankfulness. What did she have to be grateful for? Her beauty had been taken from her. And then her strength. And even now, in the twilight of her days, she could feel her very life ebbing away. But as ever, the one phrase she could muster was “thank you very much.”

I smiled as I took the paper and pen from her hands and leant in close to whisper to her, “No, Thank You.” She had given me a gift because I had caught a glimpse of joy within her suffering body, of beauty yet residing within, of gratefulness for a full life even when that life was at its end.

Indeed, everyday, in every moment, there’s always a reason to say thanks. Look around you now and see what God has done for you. And then say “Thank you very much”.

With love, Doosuur

Beat, Beat

2010-04-02T12:50:00.002+01:00

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)

Beat, beat.

And her heart would tear, as she gazed upon the cross through watering eyes.
Hers were the arms that rocked him to sleep, hers the voice that sang in his ear.
Her precious son was trussed up on wooden beams like a hardened criminal -
mocked, battered, beaten and scourged.
Oh how she longed to hold him once again,
to cradle his head close to hear heart and wipe away his tears.
What he had done to deserve this she could not tell
for he had spoken love, he had preached forgiveness and he had lived service
Surely there was an answer, surely another way
But the heavens were silent. No answer today.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And their little hearts raced, as the children ran around at the foot of the cross.
They chased each other up and down the hillside, oblivious that their Lord was crucified.
For them he had come, or so he said,
and like no one before he had showed them kindness.
One of them turned and shielded his eyes against the morning sun as he squinted to see,
Was that not “The Man”, he wondered, whom he had boasted to his friends about?
For a few weeks earlier the one they called “Rabbi”
had held him close and comforted him and had told his disciples to look after him1
It was a special moment, the best of his life.
But that was a few days back and he could not be sure right now,
for the blood and the grime had sullied his face.
“Tag, you’re ‘It’”, the other children cried,
and off he went again, chasing after them.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And he tossed and turned as the words kept ringing in his ears:
“What is truth?” he had asked the prisoner and now, finally, he knew that he knew.
Had his wife not warned him, “Pilate, have nothing to do with that righteous man”?
Had his voice not shaken as he pronounced Barabbas free?2
But now it was too late and the Truth was on a cross
and all the Governor could do was toss and turn.
Beat, beat.

Beat, Beat.

And his heart skipped one,
as blood drained from the soldier’s face.
“Truly this was the Son of God”, his confession,3
as his charge hung helpless on the cruel cross.
He had joined in the laughing, the mocking and the spitting.
He had crowned the prisoner with thorns, thinking it was only jest.
But now as creation rebelled he knew at once:
Truly this was the Son of God, and his heart skipped again.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And he wished it would stop,
for his heart kept him alive while he wished it would not.
His lips had denied his Master and friend
and he had lied to a servant girl.
The look on His face had said it all,
when the Master had glanced at him while the cock crowed.4
In His eyes he saw forgiveness, not anger or judgement,
and yet the burden of guilt was too much to bear.
Oh how he wished he could take back his words
for Jesus had always been there for him.
He had healed his mother, he had saved his brother.
He had changed his life and taught him to live better
But here and now, all that seemed lost.
And he bowed his head and wept again.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

And His heart was full of love
for the people who had gathered round.
As he looked around at the world beneath,
He knew it was finished and salvation was won.
“John, here’s your mother”, he told his best friend,
who cradled and comforted His mom as she cried.5
The calls of the children came to his ears
and He smiled as he recalled the little boy’s surprise.
“Let the children come!”, He had insisted,6
for they were precious to Him and He loved them so much.
And every word He had heard he recalled,
every touch, every scent.
His experience of mortality was close to an end
but he would need to remember to represent Man after death.
Pilate, the Centurion and his friend Peter were not too far gone
if they could but open their eyes and see -
He was the Way, the Truth and the Life
and this was the moment for which He came.
Beat, beat.

Beat, beat.

“It is finished!” He cried, when he came to the end7
A cry of victory, the shout of a King.
The lamb had died, the pain was finished
Sin had been conquered and salvation was won.
Beat, beat.

And it beat no more.

With love, Doosuur.

Scripture references:
1Mark 9:36,37; 2Matthew 27:15-26; 3Matthew 27:54; 4Luke 22:54-62; 5John 19:25-27; 6Mark 10:14; 7John 19:30

"Can You Spare Me a Pound?"

2010-03-22T00:41:00.001+01:00

And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God in Christ forgave you.
Ephesians 4:32

I was loitering just outside of Liverpool Street station this afternoon, taking in the concrete skyline of London’s business district and enjoying the sounds of leisurely weekenders out for a little bit of Sunday sun when I caught the glimpse of a kindly looking middle-aged woman standing next to me. She seemed to have a question in her eyes but after a moment’s hesitation she turned away and I moved on.

“Can you spare me a pound?”, she asked from behind me, and I turned to look at her once again, full in the face. Her’s were warm eyes and she had a gentle face and my heart was drawn towards her. It was a simple enough request. No long-winded tales of a difficult journey or no food on the table. Simple and straightforward.

“I don’t think I have any change,” I said, as I rummaged through my jacket pockets. “Oh, here’s one,” as I plopped the brass into her chubby palm. I nodded my goodbye and sauntered off to find a place to sit. I had a lot of time to kill so I made it all the way to the back of the station before I found a convenient park bench to plunk down and soak in the early spring sun - a welcome relief after months of gray skies and cold drafts. I watched the pigeons flutter about after bread crumbs as amorous couples strolled by hand-in-hand, laughing and snuggling, oblivious to the world around them.

Presently I noticed someone walking towards me, smoldering cigarette in hand. It was the same kindly woman whom I had met a short half-hour before. She came over and sat down right next to me, obviously not recognizing me from our brief encounter. I smiled to myself as I looked away, half expecting her to say something. But she kept silent, taking long drafts and shortening the stick with every breath. “What a waste” I thought, as I considered what employ my hard-earned pound had been put to.

Soon enough a disheveled man walked along, jingling a few spare coins in a calloused hand. He stopped and looked at both of us without saying a word. “Would you like some money?” my seat mate ventured. “Yes,” he answered. I froze, half expecting her to point in my direction and say “ask him.” Instead, she replied, “I’m sorry but I have none”, as she turned her face away (not so much with disdain as with nothing further to offer).

There may be few parallels but the story Jesus told of the unmerciful servant (read Matthew 18 for the full account) came straight to mind. In it Jesus tells of a servant, severely indebted to his king for a lifetime of wages and facing imminent incarceration. When he pleads the master cancels the debt and sets him free but no sooner is he out of the king’s court that he accosts his fellow servant, who owes him peanuts by comparison, and locks him up until he should repay. The king hears of this and the wicked servant gets what’s coming to him. The morale of the story as told by Jesus is that we can expect the same treatment we mete out to others from our Heavenly Father. In his words, “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive each other from the heart.”

A similar principle is repeated several times in Scripture such as where the Lord enunciates, concerning giving (Luke 6:38) and judging (Matthew 7:1,2) “with the measure you use it will be measured to you.” We too, worldly as we are, have enshrined this same concept in the so-called Golden Rule - “Do unto others as you will have them do unto you.”

So ask yourself, have you received mercy? Show mercy. Have you experienced love? Give love. Have you enjoyed kindness, graciousness, forgiveness, compassion, friendliness? Do not hold back. Give, give, and give again. No-one puts it better than Paul when he encourages the Ephesians, “And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God in Christ forgave you.” (Ephesians 4:32, NKJV, italics mine).

With love,
Doosuur.

"Wow!"

2010-01-14T22:54:00.002+01:00

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.
Genesis 1:1

Good thing I got a window-seat today, which is saying a lot considering my recent bad luck with on-flight seating. I’ve recently “suffered” the misfortune of being stuck in the middle seat of economy class and the last time I had a window seat it was smack dab over the airplane’s wing - tough luck. But today, in a large aircraft boasting hardly two dozen passengers I can even afford to take up a whole row as, in fact, I did for my mid-flight snooze.

But it’s such a blessing that right now, nothing obscures my view as I look at out at the world beneath and one word comes close to describing what I can see - breathtaking!!! We are currently flying over a carpet of clouds as we cross French territory, soon to fly over Paris, and I could not help but strain my eyes into the distance to see whether perhaps I could see my Lord coming, “riding on the clouds” like he promised (Mark 14:62). It might have been difficult for an obstinate Jewish council to picture it when he spoke the words with such audacity two thousand years ago but then they hadn’t seen what he had seen - and what I see today.

But then again, this view is just one of many such vistas that have caught my attention. I particularly thrilled at the beautiful slate-grey rocks of the French mountains and the huge sand dunes of the Algerian Sahara. Such magnificent beauty just makes you wonder, “who could have done this?” The signature of a creator God is indelibly etched into His creation and we can hardly escape from the wonder and magnificence of the mind behind all this beauty.

When was your last “wow” moment where you took pause and considered just how great and wise our God is? Scripture is right when it says “since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse” (Romans 1:20). One can hardly argue with such overwhelming evidence against an intelligent being at the center of it all. And if we agree that Someone could create it all, how powerful must He be? To be Creator of the world - even the way I might conceive of it - He would have to be INFINITELY powerful - omnipotent like some might say. And if He were that great then surely he could bring forth into existence by a word and a breath! And that’s precisely what the Genesis account tells me about the Creator: He spoke and it came into being and by that same word creation is sustained!

I think it’s easiest to see God in the huge and magnificent as well as in the tiny and intricate but He is all around, isn’t He? You only have to watch the instinctive hunting of a worker ant or thrill in the cold and fluffy snow when it falls on your cheek. Smell him in the fresh sweet air that follows the rain and taste his goodness in a cold glass of spring water. God is all around us speaking to us through His magnificent and matchless creation and just like he beckoned to the man in Eden He longs to walk with you in the cool of the garden, taking it all in.

With love, Doosuur

Soul of a Stranger

2009-11-24T00:29:00.002+01:00

Be merciful to me, LORD, for I am in distress;
my eyes grow weak with sorrow,
my soul and body with grief.
Psalm 31:9

You, just like me, have been there. That moment when it pulls strongly at your heart, threatening to eat you up from the inside. It’s “the urge”, that strong desire to go ahead and talk to that stranger sitting next to you. You remember when it happened most recently? I remember most vividly. But you, just like me, resisted and resisted until the moment was lost. And as you parted ways you wondered, what if I had opened my mouth? What if I hadn’t kept so quiet. Might someone’s life be different?

It happened to me today. I was at the train station, clad from head to toe against the bitter wind as it howled through the trees bringing in the cold and rain. The minutes ticked away as I waited for my transport. A young man walked up towards me, squinting as he tried to read the words on the message board. “When’s the next train?” he ventured. “Four minutes”, my curt reply. “Thanks”, he said, and sauntered over to a nearby bench. And then that nagging feeling crept up. I already had the opening, he had broken the ice; all I had to do was strike up a conversation. Well, just as always, I resisted, that is until God stepped in and pulled a “Jonah” on me.

“Hey bruv, you work around here?” It was the young man again. I turned to answer and looked him over. A tall, handsome, Indian man, perhaps my age. I took the chance and engaged him in light conversation. “I work in a sexual health office” I said. He uttered a few choice expletives in response, laughed and said, “so you can help me then!”

As we clambered onto the train and took our places I got to learn that his wife had kicked him out of the house some three months back and he was staying at a friends’. About two years ago she had begun seeing a wealthier man and the marriage had broken down. When I asked him if he had hopes of reconciliation he just shook his head, sadly. It was too far gone.

“I don’t know where it all went wrong,” he said. “We were in love when we got married; it was not arranged.” It was easy to see the hurt he felt because of her betrayal. I could tell he still loved her but there was very little hope in his voice. We gradually went on to talk about more trivial matters and when we felt comfortable enough we exchanged numbers. After that an uneasy silence fell over us as the miles rushed by.

“Doosuur, say something,” it was the little voice in my head. “Grab the opportunity before the moment passes.” This time I was somewhat more willing (the hard work had already been done, no?) and I gently asked, “do you believe in prayer?”

“Yes, indeed, I do. I pray every morning.”

“Good”, I returned, “you ask God to take care of you through the day...?”

“No,” he answered, “I just thank God, I just thank God for another...” and his voice trailed off as he buried his face in his hands, sobbing, and turned towards the window. In my short encounter with this young man I had been offered a rare glimpse into the hurt and pain that fills his soul. It was so much that he did not even have the courage to ask God for anything. The love of his life had left him for another man and he was sad, alone and sorely betrayed.

“It’ll be okay,” was all I could offer. “I will pray for you.”

As my stop rolled by I offered to meet up with him for drinks at some other time and we shook hands and parted. But those tears ... those tears! ... they tore at my heart.

Please join me and pray for this sad soul. God knows his name.

With love, Doosuur.

On the Train to... Nowhere

2009-10-19T16:16:00.001+01:00

To man belong the plans of the heart, but from the LORD comes the reply of the tongue.
Proverbs 16:1

Right now, even as I type these words, I’m on a train headed to a town I’ve never heard about, a distance I know nothing of and I’m too afraid to even look at my watch because I know that it is creeping up on 11 p.m. I do not know how or when I’ll get home tonight and with every parting second my distress increases. Yes, you guessed it, I’m on the wrong train.

“However did you get in this quandary?”, you ask. Well, I could tell you but right now I’d rather just forget it. You see, a series of rather unfortunate turns have contrived to put me in my position, at each point my decision seemed pretty innocuous but together they have landed me in a rather spectacular mess.

I came out of Church after a particularly invigorating service and a good meal afterwards and turned right rather than left as I’d much rather talk a few more minutes with a friend I had just met tonight. Then I skipped the first bus so I could take the second. Then I stopped at a train station because I assumed the underground would be faster - only to find out that the underground is closed on weekends. So I took the replacement bus service which took me everywhere I did not want to go, eventually dropping me off at a halfway point. By now my frustration was nearing boiling point but I walked into the train station, asked directions from an attendant and ended up standing in the bitter cold on platform 10, waiting for the next train to come along.

When eventually it did come, I hopped on board without a second thought and plopped down in the closest seat, but even as the doors slowly crept shut I turned around to discover that most of my fellow stragglers had remained behind, apparently waiting for the next train. “Where is this train headed?”, I asked as it slowly pulled away, but even as someone opened his mouth to speak I knew I would not like whatever he had to tell me.

There are a privileged few people in this world who start off their journeys with a pretty good idea of where they want to be and actually end up there. Often they are those who have sacrificed their money, time and so much else in the pursuit of a golden dream - the Tiger Woods’ who have played with golf clubs from birth or the Michael Jordans whose love for “the game” supersedes all. And then there’s the rest of us - people like you and me whose plans are really just desires, whose desires are wishes and whose wishes are mere fantasies.

Perhaps for you, as for me, a decade, or perhaps even a year ago you had different dreams, aspirations and targets but one turn after the other, one decision piled onto the next, you found yourself heading in a totally different direction. If you are fortunate it will not be an unpleasant destination, but it is often very different. We discover that things very rarely end up exactly as we planned them and the blueprint keeps changing. This uncertainty can be quite discomfiting if we let it get to us but is it not a great comfort to know that even when things don’t go according to our plan they are indeed going according to a plan - His plan?

You see, although we often do not stop long enough to realize it, our lives are carefully and intricately woven and interconnected with everyone else’s and there’s only one Grand Plan in action - God’s plan. So long as we live life on God’s terms and in submission to His will we can live with the peace and confidence that regardless of what happens to us God is never surprised. With Him there are no coincidences. Where we see wrong turns, God sees opportunity; where we see frustration He encourages us to take up the challenge, to step up to the plate. And we can do so with full confidence that He knows tomorrow - after all He wrote it Himself, before time began.

And if you must know, I did find out where I’m headed after all. Shenfield...

With love, Doosuur.

A Little Piece of Bubble Wrap

2009-10-14T00:38:00.000+01:00

However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all. But let him remember the days of darkness, for they will be many. Everything to come is meaningless.
Ecclesiastes 11:8

I ran into the bus, hands in my pockets as I huddled against the cold October wind and I quickly settled into a seat for the ride home. As I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes I heard a popping sound. I looked up to see a middle-aged lady, with a piece of bubble wrap in her hand. She had a smug smile and a twinkle in her eye as she gayly burst the little bubbles one after the other. “Pop, pop, pop...” they went, keeping time to the seconds as they passed and it was easy to see that she was enjoying her little diversion immensely. Good for her, I thought, as I mentally recounted the pleasure I myself have derived countless times over from flattening out yards of bubble wrap.

As the bus trudged along I got caught up in a reverie as I listened absently to the creaking of the old bus and thought about that strange electronic female voice that follows us around, calling out the bus stops. I closed my eyes again as my mind momentarily recalled the movie Eagle Eye and from there, like it so often does, wandered to a hundred-and-one other minute and insignificant thoughts until something caught my attention, bringing me back to reality. It had stopped. I strained my ears to listen but I could not hear it. The popping had stopped. Whatever had happened to bubble-wrap lady?

As I opened my eyes tentatively I saw the woman, turning over the sheet of plastic and running her finger, ever so carefully over the rows of little bubbles, looking for one more elusive air cushion. Unfortunately for her there was none to be found; all the bubbles were gone. She rolled it up into a ball, folded her arms, heaved a sigh and stared forlornly out of the window. The whole gesture suggested one thing: “Now what?” She had exhausted her daily allocation of bubble-bursting pleasure and there was left for her only a flat and wasted piece of plastic and the silence.

My mind wandered again as I thought about how our lives are like that piece of bubble wrap. We squeeze out pleasure every way we know how and as often as we can in an attempt to feel fulfilled and to give ourselves a sense of worth. But with everything that we do there is ultimately a “now what?” moment where we realize that it’s all done and dusted. When we reach that climax do we have a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment or a sense that all the pleasure’s done with and there’s nothing to show for it. And so I determine that I will savor every moment that I can on this earth with a view to the ultimate “now what” when all we’ve done will be shown for what it’s worth. And perhaps when I’m done with my little bit of bubble wrap the bus would have arrived at my destination. Home.

With love, Doosuur.

He Lit a Cigarette!

2009-09-10T23:01:00.003+01:00

What may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.
Romans 1:19,20

He lit a cigarette! He actually stepped out of church, pulled a stick out of his pocket and put it to his mouth, the end glowing in the dim light of dusk.

His name is Michele (pronounced ‘k’ and not ‘sh’) and I met him this evening. An Italian with dark hair and fine looks, his ready smile and requisite lilting accent reminded me so much of Friends’ Joey Tribbiani that I had to suppress a chuckle. We were in Church for a weekly Bible study and happened to sit at the same table. As we interacted after the session I learned that he was indeed a Catholic and was attending only his second Bible study ever. As expected, we had different views over certain matters but I could see that God was working a wonder in the heart of this young man.

He had not always believed in God. Having been born into a religious family he rebelled early on and went his own way. He had comforted himself in philosophy and agnostic thought, not wanting to confront the reality of God that was always gnawing at his spirit, demanding a response. But thankfully he had come to that point in his life where he had to face up to that most important question: “What if there is a God?” The logic taught by Pasquale (follow the link below to read about it*) seemed to have helped him make up his mind - “If there’s no God and I have believed, I lose next to nothing; If there is a God and I have not believed, I lose ... everything.”

Finally Mike made the choice to believe and it changed everything. As we spoke it was so easy to see the joy and peace that is his today and the love he has for God and His word. He is obviously well read, spending time in Luther and Calvin as he tried grappled with the issues brought up by the protestant reformation and the implications for his own faith. “There are few real atheists,” he said to me. “Most people actually do not know if there is a God - they are agnostic. They are afraid of confronting the possibility because then they will have to make an uncomfortable decision. Very few will say with conviction that there is no God.”

Recently I have been burdened by the way people have rejected the thought of God as though the very idea was a primitive concept. As I talked with a friend a couple of nights back it was sad to see the burden she carries for her friends and classmates who utterly refuse to consider the truth of God’s existence. “They will not even accept that there is a God,” she cried, “how in the world will we even get to talk about Jesus?” I do not know how it will end for all these people who burden us. But one thing that gladdens my heart is that people are coming to God. I have seen it very recently in the most vivid ways that God is still in the business of changing lives.

As we walked to the tube station Michele turned to me and gestured with his cigarette. “This is a big sin for you, isn’t it?” I truly did not expect the question but at that moment I knew that all my prejudices were not important. What matters most to God is that souls are saved. He does demand total surrender but we are all in the process aren’t we?

He finally put out the light but as we turned to go underground we heard someone yelling and running after us. We turned to see a beautiful young lady in stilettos running our way as though the hordes of hell were in hot pursuit. “Please help me,” she screamed, “I’m desparate!” We waited for her to reach us and as she stopped she pulled out a stick. “Please do you have a light?”

With love, Doosuur.

*I take no responsibility for the content of this webpage and cannot guarantee that it will remain appropriate. http://article.nationalreview.com/?q=MDc1MjI4MjkwMzBhZWJmZTU2ZjBhY2JlMTQyODUwZDQ=

The New Guy

2009-06-22T11:29:00.000+01:00

Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.
Hebrews 13:2

I had such a sense of anticipation as I prepared to go to St. Helen’s today. A missionary couple had invited me there for a first service to have a look-see and assured me I would find a warm welcome. But a couple of wrong turns contrived to make me twenty minutes late and when I arrived at the west door the service was already in full swing. I dutifully silenced my mobile and stepped through the swinging doors and voila I was inside.

Inside there were 200 hundred faces, staring intently at the preacher but, to my horror, every single one of them was white. “Uh-oh!” I thought, as I slinked my way up to a chair and slid in, hopefully unnoticed. “This is going to be a long night.” As I looked around I saw another black couple, themselves sitting in a far-off corner, looking as conspicuous as I was but they provided no relief for me as they skedaddled before the service would end.

All at once my sympathies went to everyone who’s ever been the new guy. Nobody likes to stand out in the crowd – except, of course as a hero or something – and I immediately felt the sense of desperation that they all must feel. How many johnny-come-latelies (JJCs) had I overlooked in my short experience? Oh, how I wish I was a little more welcoming to them. Payback’s a bummer.

After The Blessing I hung around the foyer, looking for an opportunity to say hi to someone but they all seemed so into themselves and no-one noticed me at all. We were invited for an after-Church informal around hot dogs and tomato soup but every bone in my body begged me to make a run for it. I was none too comfortable with the two-day growth of stubble on my beard either, but I grit my teeth and made a beeline for the food. As I stood in the queue, feeling sorry for myself, along came Richard. “Hello, have I seen you here before?” Thank God for Richard!

With love, Doosuur.

Eyes On The Ball

2009-01-13T20:38:00.000+01:00

Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed...
Hebrews 12:2 (The Message)

The first rule of tennis, or indeed any ball game is simple. Keep your eyes on the ball. It seems straightforward enough but you’d be surprised how often a novice like me must remind myself, sometimes quite audibly, “keep your eyes on the ball.”

Today was no different. As usual, I changed into my tennis gear and began my warmup routine muttering to myself that most important mantra. As I got into the groove I went from Rule 1 to Rule 2: Move your feet. The other basic rules soon followed:
Take a backswing
Follow through
And very quickly, everything was flowing smoothly. One particular backhand drive made me feel like the new Federer come to town.

But then, almost as quickly as it had begun, it all started coming apart at the seams. I started hitting awry balls and ambitious drives became home runs as they rose over and beyond the confines of the premises. All of a sudden it seemed I just could not get it right. The more I tried the worse it became. What’s wrong? I wondered. And then it hit me. I stopped, took a breath and whispered to myself, “Doosuur, keep your eyes on the ball.” And then I started again. At the beginning.

But then it’s not just on the tennis court that I find I have to remind myself of the most important truth. It all starts well enough, in the morning, as I open God’s word and turn my eyes on Jesus. But then as the day drags on, it’s so easy for me, as I’m sure you, to get so caught up in the hustle and bustle that we neglect where our focus should be. We become so engrossed in meeting up with the demands of everyday life - pleasing a demanding boss, meeting an unexpected deadline, coping with a testy client - that all of a sudden the freshness and joy of a beautiful morning fades away.

And then if we are not careful we find ourselves hitting balls askew as we slowly lose control. We let our guard slip - a careless word here, a thoughtless gesture there - and very soon we’re headed down the slippery slope with no end in sight.

How apt it was of the writer to the Hebrews to command them, “fix your eyes on Jesus...” (NIV). He does not just say “look at Jesus”. He says, fix your eyes on Him. This is much more than a casual glance. It requires one to be involved in, immersed in, the object of their attention. Consider now, what it would mean for you if you were to really fix your eyes on Jesus. If I may use an analogy, it would be like putting on a pair of glasses. The things you look at are still the same but the way you perceive them could be very different. Life takes on a whole new perspective.

If we go through the day with Jesus constantly ahead of us, coloring our circumstances, we would discover that life could be so much more fulfilling. And perhaps we wouldn’t have to drop the ball ever so often.

With love, Doosuur.

Wickedness Unlimited

2008-12-04T01:31:00.001+01:00

Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm to the end will be saved.
Matthew 24:12,13

Chances are you are privy to the events that have overtaken the city of Jos, Nigeria in the past week. We have witnessed firsthand man’s inhumanity to man and seen atrocities committed in the name of God. We watched in horror as an ostensible political squabble metamorphosed into a full-scale Holy War with both sides trying to outdo the other. So many have lost life, limb and loot in the carnage and there is little comfort to be seen.

The stories are as shocking as they are true as we see man’s creativity used in the most nefarious ways reminiscent of Paul’s horror at those who “invent ways of doing evil” in Romans 1:30. I’ve heard of people being thrown down bridges to be dashed on the rocks, others burned alive, pleas of mercy ignored as young men are macheted to death by youth inebriated by their own depravity.

I met a young man today, fourth year Architecture student, who was caught up in the crisis. His friend and roommate was killed and burned before his very eyes. He managed to escape but lost everything but the shirt on his back. He offered to offload an old camera to me in exchange for enough money to make the short trip to Abuja. Imagine my embarrassment when he burst into tears and prostrated on the ground in gratitude when I offered to pay his fare. One can only imagine the terror he and many others like him have witnessed.

So where does one find comfort in the midst of such suffering? Where do you find the courage to face your neighbor with a different faith and offer the love of Christ? How do you tell that mother that she will never see her young son again? “He was so young and full of potential!” she cries. “He just left me to serve his country. Why, oh why?” And what do you tell the businessman who watched his life’s work go up in flames? How can you offer comfort without sounding banal, condescending or just plain out of touch?

I have no answers today, but questions only. But I do realize that in the midst of such seemingly inhuman suffering I can look to those who have experienced such and say, along with them, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God... How my heart yearns within me!” (Job 19:25-27)

Join me now to pray for those who suffer and trust God for his healing. Amen.
With love, Doosuur.

Fit To Die

2008-11-17T19:29:00.004+01:00

Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.
Acts 4:12

I remember growing up singing native Tiv songs during Sunday evening Family Time, around a bowl of hot kunun gyeda. One of my favorite songs went something like this:

The Jews put the Lord Jesus on the ballot
To run against Barabbas
Barabbas lost the vote -
Barabbas was not fit to die

You remember the story don’t you? Pilate, the Governor, in a desperate last-gasp attempt to rescue Jesus from an irate Jewish mob makes an offer he thinks they should not refuse. “Which prisoner do you want me to pardon?” he asks. “Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus the so-called Christ?” (Matthew 27:17). As far as he’s concerned, it’s a no-brainer. Barabbas, the infamous robber and murderer versus Jesus, healer of the sick and the most fascinating character to walk the roads of Judea for centuries.

At that moment, the Jews had a choice. They could get rid of one of these two men with their vote. And they chose Jesus. Barabbas lost the vote. Barabbas was not fit to die.

All of a sudden the heavens fell silent. There was an upset. The Author of Creation had just been chosen to die by the very people he had created. They considered the life of a hardened criminal worth more than His. What horror! What an outrage! What blessedness!

Because along with Barabbas we all lost the vote that day. None of us was fit to die and, indeed, none is. Not until we have died with Christ into his own death. For at the moment of his death, he stepped up and took the mantle of redemption. He gave himself up so that we could die freely. Without Jesus’ death, ours would be a sore shame. But since he has died and, thankfully, has been raised to life we are, at last, fit to die.

With love, Doosuur

Scarred For Life

2008-11-15T23:56:00.001+01:00

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5

Today, November 15, is my Thanksgiving Day or, like I like to call it, my Deathday. It was 15 years ago, to the day, that I was rushing to school, late as usual. I had just come out of the cab and was waiting for change when I heard the loud blare of a truck horn. Next thing I knew, I was airborne, looking down at Mother Earth and wondering what had happened to me. It was not till I hit the ground (seconds of course, but it felt like eons) that I realized I had just been rammed, by a truck no less.
Several months of hospitals, medication and physiotherapy did their thing and I was soon back to new - except for the scars. My body did not respond well to the bruises, lacerations and infection, and I was left with hypertrophic scars on my face, neck and legs.
Today, years later, these same scars are a potent reminder of God’s mercy in my life. As I recount my deliverance, it occurs to me that these scars, disfiguring as they are, are a medal of honor. I would not have scars except I have been healed. A scar means the healing is complete and all that remains is a memory.
As I pondered this I remembered Christ’s own scars, displayed proudly one Sunday so many years ago. It was a warm spring evening but there was a chill in the air. The disciples had heard that Jesus’ body had gone missing and they were filled with trepidation, expecting a Jewish mob to storm their hideout any moment, demanding answers. As they brooded and pondered in the dim lights Jesus suddenly stood among them. “Peace be with you!”, his first words. Words cannot describe the astonishment they felt as they stared at him, eyes full of wonder. “Could it really be...?”, they thought. But then he showed it to them. His scars. A few days earlier, the soldier’s gavel had muffled the anguished cries of their master, driving cruel nails into his hands. Those same wounds, which had meant sin and shame back then now meant redemption and healing. And Life.
Everyone of us has experienced hurt, pain and disappointment. An examination failed, a relationship broken, a loved one gone. But after the grieving comes the healing and at the end of it all we can look back and see that the scars serve to remind us how far we’ve come the grace of God at work in our lives.
Join me and thank God that I’m alive. I’ve got the scars to prove it!
With love, Doosuur

Enlarged In The Waiting

2008-08-07T02:29:00.001+01:00

These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting... The longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.
Romans 8:23-25, The Message

As I read this breathtaking phrase from Romans I could not help repeating to myself over and over again, the words "Enlarged in the waiting... ENLARGED IN THE WAITING". What a beautiful word-picture Paul paints as he likens the hope and joy of an erstwhile barren woman expecting her firstborn child with our experience as we wait for our fulfillment in Christ. Just think of it, not a moment passes when the thought of the life growing within her is far from this woman's mind. All her actions, everything she does, is in one way or the other directed towards tending and caring for the unborn gift. The things she eats, the way she sleeps, everything in her life takes on a whole new direction for a definite period of nine months.

Does waiting for this child distress her? Not necessarily. Because she knows that time must run it's course if her joy is to be complete. A little too early and she knows the only result may be grief in the end. So everyday that passes, every hour that goes by, she is expectant, knowing that she is getting bigger and bigger, unto a perfect gift. She is enlarged in the waiting.

Same with us. Our painful experiences may be likened to early-morning sickness. Our desire for God would be just like the cravings of a primigravida. But waiting does not diminish us. Not at all. It HELPS us. Every experience of God brings us closer to the perfect person He wants us to be. He is coming for a Church without spot and blemish and time and circumstance must run their course so that we can be presented mature before Him in the end.

We are enlarged in the waiting. And while we wait, like a responsible mother, we must care for ourselves, watching what we ingest; careful, so to speak, with our bodies, as we nurture this eternal life growing, even enlarging, within us. We have no idea how it will look, anymore than a mother knows the likeness of the child within her, but that does not diminish us one bit. We know there will be joy in the end. It's the only possible outcome.

With love, Doosuur

How Are You? Really?

2008-04-24T17:36:00.000+01:00

Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you. Greet each other in Christian love.

1 Corinthians 13:11,12

At home, our early morning salutations are a pretty cursory affair as, after corporate morning prayers, everyone grunts a greeting and dashes off to whatever activity begins their day. But not when Grandma is visiting. Then greetings become a special event.

After prayers, we all sit down and wait in expectation because we know Mama is about to greet us. Slowly and deliberately, indeed she will not be rushed, she turns to Dad and looks him straight in the eye. "Orkurga," she says, using his birth name, "Good morning, did you sleep well?" This is no routine question, as you can feel from her tone and attitude that she means precisely what she says. "Did you sleep well?" requires an honest answer.

One by one she greets us, going in a circle. I can't wait for my turn. "Doosuur." She addresses me.

"Eh, Mama", I answer, all the while knowing what will come next.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" What a wonderful question. And I know that she would really like to know.

What a contrast this draws with the perfunctory salutations we offer each other every day. Offerings like "Good day" and "How are you?" have become mundane and hardly ever mean more than the barest of acknowledgements. But then, if we would take a minute to slow down, look someone in the eye and ask him, honestly, "How are you? Really?", we might be surprised at what the answer might be. Because often we will discover that beneath the veneer of a smiling face and a ready answer, lies a human being, all too familiar with the hurts, worries and concerns that make everyday living what it is.

A question as simple and commonplace as "How are you?" can become a veritable tool for breaking down barriers and getting into someone's world to offer comfort, healing and wisdom. And, beyond this, in that singular moment where all your attention is fixed on that one person, he feels special, very special indeed.

Hello there. Yes, I'm talking to you. How are you? Really?

With love, Doosuur.

Martha, Dear Martha

2008-04-23T07:07:00.000+01:00

It's the same with you. When you've done everything expected of you, be matter-of-fact and say, "The work is done. What we were told to do, we did."

Luke 17:10

Martha, oh dear Martha. I've always had some empathy for the elder of the Bethany sisters and I have never for the life of me understood why Jesus was so curt with her. He had been walking all day, under the hot Middle Eastern sun when he came to her doorstep, and like any good Hebrew lady, she immediately set to preparing him a hearty meal.

There she was, kneading the dough, stoking the hearth, stirring the stew, all by herself, while her wide-eyed, vivacious sibling sat at Jesus' feet, listening to stories rather than letting the good man have some rest. Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, she tossed a towel over her shoulder and marched into the living room. Arms akimbo, she demanded, "Master, don't you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me?"

Good question. But wait for it; Jesus is not impressed. "Martha, dear Martha, you're fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it - it's the main course, and won't be taken from her." (Luke 10)

A friend recently shared with me the words of Luke 17, and they struck a chord - I can do God no favors. Jesus, speaking here, says it quite succinctly:

Suppose one of you has a servant who comes in from plowing the field or tending the sheep. Would you take his coat, set the table, and say, "Sit down and eat"? Wouldn't you be more likely to say, "Prepare dinner; change your clothes and wait table for me until I've finished my coffee; then go to the kitchen and have your supper"? Does the servant get special thanks for doing what's expected of him? It's the same with you. When you've done everything expected of you, be matter-of-fact and say, "The work is done. What we were told to do, we did." (vv. 7-10, Message)

Martha was working hard, doing her best to serve God. But God was not impressed. He's already done so much more to serve me that my highest service pales in comparison. All he requires of me is to do exactly what he tells me to do. And if that means sitting still at his feet, well, that's were I ought to be.

So take pause, stop being oh-so-busy for a minute and consider: "No matter what I do, I can do God no favors. All that will ever impress Him is that I'm in that position of submission, attentive to His Word and His Will." Stop fussing and sit down for a minute and be blessed as you do.

With love, Doosuur.

The Darling of Heaven, Crucified

2008-03-21T07:01:00.001+01:00

Worthy is the Lamb

Seated on Your throne

Crown You now with many crowns

You reign victorious

High and lifted up

Jesus Son of God

The Darling of heaven crucified

Worthy is the Lamb

Darlene Zschech, 2000

There are a few songs that are, truly, in a league of their own for the simple reason that they have moved me to tears. Songs like Lenny LeBlanc's Above All, Mark Schultz' Letters From War and, most recently, Darlene Zschech's Worthy is the Lamb.

I happened to be listening to music casually some weeks ago when a line jumped up at me out of the tunes: "the Darling of Heaven crucified." What horror! Jesus was crucified. He was actually, even brutally, nailed to a cross and left to hang for 3 hours while the whole world walked on by. And there, alone, far removed from the glory of heaven - where he had legions of magnificent angels at his beck and call, where he had his Father's ear, where he was undisputed prince - there, on the cross, he died in pain and despair. From glory to grave, from Heaven to Hades.

At the height of his suffering Jesus he called out, "My God, my God. Why have you forsaken me?" Dead silence. Not even his Father would answer him now. There, at that moment, he had become sin. He was sin embodied that sin might die. It was as though God had cut off his own right hand and thrown it in the fire. The Darling of Heaven was crucified. Heaven's best Son was abandoned to death.

And most fittingly, all earth fell silent and the sun refused to shine. Creation rebelled for her Master was defiled. And with a word and a cry he breathed his last.

And there, right there in the darkness, in the silence - with the women weeping in muffled tones while the soldiers mocked - there does history find its finest moment. Christ crucified so that I could escape death.

Do we so much mourn Christ's death as we celebrate it? Perhaps not quite so much, and with good reason too - for if the full weight of the injustice of that moment should descend on us, and if we realized that we too held the hammer that spring afternoon, we might be driven to depths of despair. But thanks be to God, all that is done and the bitterness of death is past. So go ahead, mourn and then celebrate Christ's death. The Darling of Heaven crucified, so that I could become Heaven's darling.

With love, Doosuur.

Banking in January

2008-01-21T23:00:00.000+01:00

I remember it all … the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there's one other thing I remember … God's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up. They're created new every morning. How great your faithfulness!

Lamentations 3:20-23

In truth, I did not expect much activity when I walked into the banking hall today, but I was quite startled by what I witnessed. The silence was absolutely deafening. The peace and quiet was a long way removed from the hustle and bustle of just a few weeks earlier when last-minute Christmas shoppers had crowded the tills, waiting to clear out their accounts in the spirit of the season. It was quite unusual to see jobless tellers, idly waiting for the odd customer and, I would imagine, playing an interminable game of solitaire on their tabletop monitors. So much for Monday morning banking.

I had come in to deposit a cheque and the irony of it was not lost on me. What a time to deposit money! Who doesn't feel the crunch of the last few days of January? Who doesn't reel from the shock of binge spending at the height of the holidays? Most of us just grind out these bare days, one hour at a time, making every red cent count while the elusive paycheck takes its jolly good time in coming.

I would proffer that the undulations of our salary accounts parallel the zeniths and nadirs of our spiritual lives. It would seem that as soon as we experience a season of refreshing, peace and genuine communion it is soon followed by the lows of guilt, disappointment and sin that leave us feeling depleted and overdrawn. And when we've made that last withdrawal, there is nowhere left to turn. We tell ourselves that our credit is finished. There is no more mercy, no more grace, no more love.

Enter Jesus. In one momentous act of redemption, he credited our accounts with love, mercy and grace … forever. We are never too far gone, never stuck too deep, never fallen too low. It is at the lowest moments that he is there, waiting, with open arms. If only we would write that cheque and present it, we would find that our account is never overdrawn. Not in January, not ever. There is enough mercy, enough grace, enough love to help us through the difficult times until we can again stand on our feet to receive the abundance that God has stored up for us. His mercies are new every morning; how great His faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:23)

With love, Doosuur

God's Masterpiece

2007-12-31T06:36:00.000+01:00

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

2 Corinthians 9:8

As me and some friends sat down yesterday eve to recount the year 2007 over kebabs and some of the best roast chicken (thanks Ovie!), words like "blessing", "favor", and "wonderful" were plentiful. We ran out of superlatives to describe God's goodness. Our God has been exceedingly benevolent, surprisingly provident, persistently faithful, a loving teacher.

And as we talked, one thing became clear - in the midst of the greatest trial and difficulty, the best response was to thank God. Without doubt there are several things that have made you, as they have me, feel ungrateful, but then when we take a look at things and see our situation through His eyes, we realize that all things do work together for our good, who have been called according to God's purpose (Romans 8:28).

Some of us look toward 2008 with a sense of apprehension and uncertainty; it's never comfortable not to know what the future holds. For others there is a sense of expectancy and promise as we look towards another year of blessing, favor and wonder. Whichever the case, the best lesson I've learned for 2007 I'll carry over to the next year, and that is - be patient. God is at work and it never did anyone any good to rush Him.

It is so easy to want to handle our own lives, to take the paint brush and finish our own portrait. But as you step forward into the new year, take a step back, remember the mess you have made when you've done it your way, and turn the brush over to the Master. Give him a fresh new canvas to work it. It will take time, and His brushstrokes are not always pleasant, but He works with love and care, and when He has finished His Masterpiece, "you" will have been worth the wait.

God bless you in 2008.

With love, Doosuur.

Celebrate Jesus, Celebrate

2007-12-21T06:06:00.000+01:00

Once again the star appeared to them, guiding them to Bethlehem… When they saw the star, they were filled with joy! They entered the house where the child and his mother, Mary, were, and they fell down before him and worshiped him.

Matthew 2:9-11

I'm not a festive person by any stretch of the imagination, and all the fuss over grumpy old men in red jump suits and glittery Christmas décor can easily be lost on me. Left to me I could go the whole season without putting up a Christmas tree or turning on a decorative light.

But as I meandered slowly home this evening, something caught my eye. Someone had put up a Star of David in bright Christmas lights on the transmission mast of the local TV station. It looked beautiful as it hung there, glowing against the starless sky. I couldn't help going back in my mind to that cold, lonely night so many years ago, when three sages, tired and hungry from a never-ending journey finally came upon their quarry - a little, frail baby in the company of goats and chickens. The rest of the world was unsuspecting. But they knew better. They knew there was reason to celebrate. Their travels must have taken weeks, if not months, but this single moment in time made it all worthwhile. Christ was born! And how they celebrated!

The very word "celebrate" conjures up images of joy, happiness and ecstasy and, get this, action. It is not passive in any way. It is a deliberate effort to rejoice because of something good. I think it's a good thing that the whole world stops, for a few days in December just to celebrate. They may do it for whatever reason, but I think it's healthy.

Perhaps we spend a little too much time sitting in judgment over those who choose to have a good time at Christmas because they do not know "the reason for the season". Imagine if Nigeria won the World Cup and then, all of a sudden the Cameroonians declared a public holiday and thronged the streets to sing songs of joy. What would we do? Fold our hands and ask how dare they celebrate? I think not. No. We would simply go all the way out and out-celebrate them. If they try to crash our party, we'll simply party all the harder.

Think about it. So many people don't get the point. And yet they rejoice. What about you? You have a great reason to celebrate. His name is Jesus! So let it out - sing, shout, dance, have fun. Celebrate Jesus this Christmas. For unto us a Child is born… Oh Yes!

With love, Doosuur.

Are You Ready To Live?

2007-12-14T21:43:00.000+01:00

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me.

Philippians 1:21,22

My life flashed before my eyes today when, through a foolishly heroic act, I was exposed to what may be a potentially lethal dose of a deadly virus. For not the first time in my life I was faced with the real possibility of death and I asked myself that all-important question, "are you ready to die?"

I must admit I felt a little smug as I answered myself. Yes I'm ready to meet my Maker. Yes I know where I will go. I may not have lived the most fulfilling life, but yes I am reasonably satisfied. Yes I am ready to die. Perhaps I too, like Paul could proudly say, "for me to live is Christ, to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21) Indeed the thought of dying is scary. But the thought of death, that is, well, almost comforting.

But then as my mind wandered further, I recalled an Easter Sunday sermon in a missionary village several years ago. It was the same village where the white missionaries had come to die after first encountering this virus back in the 60s. In his discourse, the parson narrated how, during his honeymoon he had gallantly told his bride, "I love you so much, I could die for you." She summarily burst his bubble when she replied, "I don't want you to die for me. Dying is easy. I want you to live for me."

Too true. As ironic as it may seem, it is entirely plausible that the single most selfish thing I could do right now is to die. I am not living for myself. I am living for people. And I am living for Christ. It's too easy to focus on the "die is gain" part and neglect the "live is Christ" portion of Paul's earth-moving statement. I have a responsibility to live. A responsibility to my parents. To my family. To my friends. To my children, when indeed I get them. I have a responsibility to tens and hundreds of people I have never met.

And all of a sudden it came to me. God expects of me to do my utmost not to die. So long as I can, I must go on living. To live, that is Christ. No easy way out for me. So, for your information, I'll be around for some while longer. I will live and not die, not just yet.

With love, Doosuur.

Unclean, unclean!

2007-12-01T08:40:00.000+01:00

Come, you who are blessed by my Father … For I was hungry, and you fed me... I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me.

Matthew 25:34-36

Working in a hospital can be quite a morbid occupation. I was just now listening to the familiar rattle of the gurney as two morgue attendants pushed on their next patron, once a vivacious tyke, now all wrapped up in the garb of death. A solemn coda for a boisterous existence. He came in with much fanfare, now he leaves all alone. Joy at his entry, pain and bitterness as he leaves.

Working in the infectious diseases unit of the hospital, death has, sadly enough for me, become a very important part of life. The fastest means for any of my patients to leave the hospital is through the very curiously-named Ward Zero. The burden of HIV and AIDS cuts very deeply into the fabric of our society and it is too often ignored. No single ailment cuts down our life expectancy as does AIDS. It is ever present; you probably know someone who has to deal with it on a daily basis. But sadly, we seem to say too little about it and do even less.

Once upon a time, the Jews had such a scourge. They called it leprosy. Those who were so unfortunate as to suffer this skin infection were ostracized. A sign was hung on their necks and they would cry "unclean, unclean" as they walked by so no good Jew would be contaminated by touching them or, perhaps, by staring at them too long. Theirs was a sorry existence, at the mercy of society, of the priest, of God and precious few ever had anything to smile about. They would slowly but surely endure a rash, then lose feeling in their limbs and then watch helplessly as their fingers and toes fell of, one after the other. A gut-wrenching sentence for anyone who first heard the pronouncement, "unclean".

But then, sure as ever, Jesus steps in. The King of Glory comes down and walks among men. And his best friends? Look no further than the very outcasts of society. Do you remember Simon the Leper? Rivaled only by Mary and Martha in his hospitality; perhaps indeed he was their father. Don't now forget those ten men, crying their bothersome refrain at the Samarian border. "Unclean, unclean" they chant, until they meet the Master. And with a look and a word they are clean again.

Today, we have the opportunity to be Jesus to just such as these. People with little to be joyful about. What would Jesus do? He would touch them, he would love them, indeed he would heal them - body and soul. December 1 is World AIDS day. Let us take the opportunity to remind God about those whom society loves to hate, the very people He would love to love.

With love, Doosuur.

Of Shirt Creases and Ironing Boards

2007-11-27T07:28:00.000+01:00

"So if you are standing before the altar in the Temple, offering a sacrifice to God, and you suddenly remember that someone has something against you, leave your sacrifice there beside the altar. Go and be reconciled to that person. Then come and offer your sacrifice to God.

Matthew 5: 23, 24

I have a crease in my shirt. And it was brought to my notice in the most embarrassing fashion.

"Chief, my colleagues where laughing at you", my house officer said. "They said you did not iron your shirt."

"But I did!" I protested.

"Well, that line is showing", he said, as he ran his index finger up and down in the direction of the defect. He was referring to that crease my shirt got from hugging the clothesline for one long night as it dried. And sure enough, there it was, smack-dab in the middle of my back. This was definitely not the kind of information I needed since I was already having a bad-clothes-day. I had indeed ironed my shirt, well enough I thought at the time, but this one had escaped the scalding heat of the iron's blade.

I wonder what other creases there are in my life. Everything else may be looking nice and crisp, but when those annoying strips show up, they can cause me such embarrassment and make a mess of everything good I may have done.

What about you? You may have everything nice and straightened out. Your job, straightened out. Your education, straightened out. Your kids, straightened out. Your relationships, straightened out… mostly. But there are often those few creases which we pretend not to notice until they show up and bite us in the bum.

Take a minute to consider now, how are your relationships with the people around? Is there something you need to take care of now? Forgiveness you need to offer? An apology you owe? A word of comfort you have not given?

Here's where to start - on God's own ironing board. Take the matter to God in prayer, then go ahead and do something about it. So long as you ignore it, it will fester and grow and stick out like a sore thumb. Only when we address these issues will they take the back seat so everyone can see how truly lovely is the shirt on our backs.

With love, Doosuur.

My Second Birthday

2007-11-15T19:46:00.000+01:00

All the days ordained for me where written in your book before one of them came to be

Psalm 139:16

Today is my "second" birthday. Or maybe I should call it my deathday. You see, today, 14 years ago, I was saved from what could very easily have been a fatal accident. Every year, when November 15 comes around I have opportunity to reflect upon life and what it has come to mean for me.

One thing I have learned is that life must be lived "on purpose". No drifting through, one day after the other. There is a reason why each of us is here and we must, on a daily basis, find it out and live it.

As I celebrate life, let me share with you some of my favorite scriptures and what they mean to me.

He who walks righteously and speaks what is right, who rejects gain from extortion and keeps his hand from accepting bribes, who stops his ears against plots of murder and shuts his eyes against contemplating evil - this is the man who will dwell on the heights, whose refuge will be the mountain fortress. His bread will be supplied and water will not fail him.

Isaiah 33:15,16

This scripture first caught my attention while I was reading through the Bible as a teenager. It's promise of security and provision for the man who "walks right" is something to look forward to, a verse to live by.

Your GOD is present among you, a strong Warrior there to save you. Happy to have you back, he'll calm you with his love and delight you with his songs.

Zephaniah 3:17

No verse quite captures God's sense of delight in me as His child as this one does. I can just imagine him singing with joy over me. Quite a comfort.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

There again is that magic word, "purpose". I believe that I have been called "according to God's purpose" which means I'm a part of His plan. Now, because of that, do you know what God is willing to do for me? He will work out all things for my good. All things! All things! There are no superlatives to describe how I feel when the truth of this promise grabs ahold of me.

Join me to celebrate God's gift of life today.

With love, Doosuur

What is in a Name?

2007-10-19T17:11:00.000+01:00

I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.

Revelations 2:17

My name is Doosuur.

"Why did you give me a girl's name?" I remember asking Mom as a wide-eyed school-aged kid back in Kaduna.

"It's not a girl's name," she answered. "It's unisex."

Dad said the same thing when I asked him later. It was obvious they had rehearsed their lines specifically for this moment. A unisex name. Yeah, right!

But then it has never bothered me that much. Not many people share my name (even if all the others are girls), so I find it unique, even nice. No one seems to judge me when I introduce myself.

No one, that is, until I meet the next Tiv person. I remember telling an old friend of Dad's recently, "my name is Doosuur."

He cocked an eyebrow to the left and looked at me queerly as if I were to blame for my effeminate moniker. "Why do you have a girl's name?" he asked.

What'ya asking me for? I thought. Ask them, this one looking at dad. But I sympathize with the man when I realize I might as well have just said "my name is Susan."

But beyond all the hullabaloo surrounding the name, it has come to be one of the things I like most about myself. Here's what it means:

It is good to depend on the Lord

No better testimony I tell you. I am proud of the way my people name their children. Every Tiv name has a story and some history behind it. The prevailing circumstances at the time of a person's birth usually have a lot to do with what he will be called. We probably borrow heavily from the Jewish way of naming their wards. Throughout scripture it is obvious that there is great significance attached to a name. A sampling:

… she shall be called 'woman' for she was taken out of man (Genesis 2:23)

Adam named his wife Eve [living] because she would become the mother of all the living (Genesis 3:20)

"Your name will be Abraham [father of many], for I have made you a father of many nations (Genesis 17:5)

Then there is Sarah [princess], Isaac [he laughs], Esau [hairy], Jacob [he deceives], Judah [praise], Israel [he struggles with God], Moses [draw out].

The list is endless.

Let us not now forget Jabez [Oh the pain!] who didn't want his name to follow him and prayed famously, "Oh, that you would bless me and extend my lands! Please be with me in all that I do, and keep me from all trouble and pain!"

Each time God gave His friends a new name, it meant for them, and for Him a new level of relationship. When Solomon was born, God considered him so special, He sent the prophet to give him an affectionate pet name, Jedidiah [beloved of the Lord]. Perhaps even more precious to us are the pet names given to us by those close to our heart: "Munchkin", "Honey", "Poffin", "Pumpkin".

Whatever is your name, here's a thought for you. God has a name for you. A name for just the two of you. And you are the only two who will ever know it. Just the two of you. It's your very own pet name.

With love, Doosuur.

The Nice, The Important, The Necessary

2007-09-27T15:51:00.000+01:00

If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would be of no value whatsoever.

1 Corinthians 13:2,3

A man just died. On my watch. A young man, all of 25 years, and with his life before him. He was suffering from a rapidly-deteriorating liver disease when he came to the hospital and I did everything I could think of to help him. It is a busy day but I've tried to remain on top of my game and I thought I was doing well enough. But then he died, and only at the moment of his demise did I realize something - I had failed to measure his blood sugar. I had thought of it but had relegated it as less important in the light of his emergency but now, in retrospect, it seems all important. The most distressing thought of all is that I don't know and will never know his blood sugar. That little piece of information would have cost little and could well have saved his life.

Could have … but not now. Not ever. The uncertainty is eating at me...

We all have regrets, hopefully yours are not a matter of life and death. Truth is you can probably think of one earth-shattering mistake, some wrong decision that went a long way to determine your, or someone else's, life. And there's nothing that gnaws at your spirit so much as the feeling that comes with not knowing what could have been. It's a torture of humanity that we can scarce escape since we are faced with decisions every day of our lives, choices that determine the course we will take and the consequences we will face.

Regrets are a part of life, but whatever you regret, you will be fine, so long as you do not regret the things that matter. Things like family, love and God. Perhaps, like me, you are keeping yourself busy with the nice and important things to the neglect of the necessary things. Did you get that?

One man of God said recently, some things are nice; they can be done. Some things are important; they should be done. Some things are necessary; they must be done. My dad says the good is often the enemy of the best. Can you see how perhaps the nice things are keeping you from doing the important things and the important things could stop you from doing the necessary things? Go ahead and regret not indulging in the nice things. Chew your fingers a little for not doing the important. But never, ever, regret missing out on the necessary things. And I think you know which things I am talking about … faith, hope, love.

With love, Doosuur.

One of Them Days

2007-09-22T15:47:00.000+01:00

I have traveled many weary miles. I have faced danger from … robbers … I have lived with weariness and pain and sleepless nights … Often I have shivered with cold … If I must boast, I would rather boast about the things that show how weak I am.

2 Corinthians 11:26,27,30

You know those days when it seems all but the worst has happened … and then the worst happens? When it seems it's just you against the world? You've passed through several by now, no doubt and I'm sure you recognize them pretty early on. If you don't, let me help you.

You know you're having one of 'em days when ...

… you wake up 30 minutes earlier than usual and realize it is September the 22nd

… you remember in the same thought, you've got to go pick dad from Abuja Airport and

… it's your friend Mike's wedding day, so you think

… I've got to be snappy because if I miss his day,

Mike's going to kill me.

And so...

… you go to the bathroom and turn the faucet but cold water gushes out

… you wonder why you switched off the water heater last night

… you manage a quick shower and dress up but

… you cannot find the car documents

… and when you start the car, the tank is empty

… but thankfully a petrol attendant is awake and you think

… perhaps I can make it to Abuja and back,

So Mike won't have to kill me.

But then…

… dad's plane is 20 minutes late

… dad's luggage is 45 minutes later

… a Mack truck carrying a huge earth-mover rams into the vehicle behind you

… it takes the grace of God and quick reflexes and you escape by the skin of your teeth,

… and it's just noon, so you think

… Mike should have seen this,

Perhaps Mike will let me live.

Now wait a minute because …

… the tire blows out

… the tire jack is too tall

… the spare is bad and you can only wobble along at 30kph

… the next town is Keffi

… again, the next town is Keffi

… you wonder why they bother calling it a town anyhow

… you have no money!!!

… it is Saturday and the young men who's help you seek have never heard of an ATM machine

… Diamond Bank shows up from nowhere, the ATM actually works!

… the tire is fixed but you are 2 hours behind schedule and now you know,

Mike is going to kill me.

So…

… you make it home

… you are grateful you are in one piece

… a phone call confirms you are too late, but yet

… you thank God that at least you still have life

… but that may not matter in a little while because …

… Mike is definitely going to kill me.

With love, Doosuur

Flat-faced on the Floor

2007-09-13T07:26:00.000+01:00

Though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again…

Proverbs 24:16

Don't you just hate it when your piece of toast falls to the kitchen floor with the buttered side down? It happened to me yesterday morning. This time it was my favorite toothbrush, facedown on the bathroom floor. Yuk!!! Well I had to brush my teeth so I did the logical thing...

It has happened to you too. Remember that time many Christmases ago when you were running in the yard with that savory piece of fried goat that aunty had just given you? You hit your foot against a rock and were sent sprawling along the ground, your cherished piece of meat flying out of your hand and hitting the dirt. I saw you when you picked it up, completely unconcerned that you had soiled your Christmas best. You dusted it off and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweet juices. Don't worry, I would have done the same thing (or perhaps I have done!)

And I'm thinking that perhaps we sometimes feel like that piece of toast, that yellow toothbrush, that cube of fried meat. We are like that when we soil ourselves in the dirt, when we wallow in our sin, unconcerned that Someone cared enough for us to butter us, to lather us, to hold us carefully in his hands. But then all of a sudden we realize what has happened and how far we have fallen and we long again for His touch.

We lie forlorn, helpless and hopeless on the floor, wondering if He would bother once again to pick us up. After all this is not the first time, not the second time, not the third time either. We would be forgiven for thinking we had exhausted grace and He had run out of mercy.

But thank God we are not God. Each time, every time, He picks us up, dusts us off and savors us once again. And then He makes us right, crediting our account with His own righteousness (Romans 4:24). We may have to endure a few slaps of His hand as He shakes the dust free of us but just the touch of His finger is healing enough. We are never too far gone, never down and out, never too dirty to be picked up, cleaned and brought back home. Like the Prodigal son, let us come to our senses, pick up our baggages and go back home. The Father is waiting.

With love, Doosuur.

What Do You See?

2007-09-07T22:50:00.000+01:00

What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him. The blind man said, "Rabbi, I want to see." … Immediately he received his sight…

Mark 10:51,52

What do you see? I mean, really? We're all looking at the same things every day but chances are what each of us sees is very different from the next person.

When I was a house officer, an intern at the teaching hospital, I saw veins. Lots and lots of veins. My job description involved, to a large extent, taking blood samples from patients, and like a rapacious leech, when I saw someone, my eyes would track downwards ever so subtly to their arms, looking for the biggest, juiciest vessels suitable for bloodletting. Now, as an aspiring clinician, when I see people I'm always on the look out for "signs" - white nails, yellow eyes, lilting gaits - anything that would suggest a disease process. But then it's not just me.

When I'm with Flensted or Shola, they always seem to see buildings and structures. They are always talking with great gusto about what is wrong with the architecture of this residence or that high rise and on the rare occasion tipping their hats in honor of some builder's exploits. Can't blame them though - they're architects.

And then there is Austine. He sees poles. I don't know how he does it, but he's constantly analyzing sizes, heights and construction of telephone poles, pylons and electrical lines along the highway. And he doesn't get tired, not once.

But let us not forget mom. Like the good mother she is, she's always doing a mental cleanup when she's around me, picking up clothes, rearranging papers and digging up the weed patch, all with her eyes. I don't seem to notice how unkempt my surroundings are until she comes around. She sees things that I don't.

Can you remember when Jesus asked someone this same question, "What do you see?" In Mark 8 he was talking to a blind man at Bethsaida and he had just spit into the man's eyes. The man answered, "I see people; they look like trees walking around." But after a second touch from the Lord the Bible says he "saw everything in bright, twenty-twenty focus".

So I ask you again, what do you see? When we look at people, do we see them hurting and lost and in need of a friend? Do we see the pain of unfulfilled desires and the distress of unsolicited trouble? Let me show you what Jesus saw when he looked at people. "When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." (Matthew 9:36)

If only we would open our eyes to the world around us, perhaps we would begin to see the sorry state of our world. There really are people in need around us, people we could genuinely help. So why not go ahead and ask Jesus to open your eyes. It may take a little spit in the eyes, but then, that never hurt nobody.

With love, Doosuur.

Beggars In Bakeries

2007-05-18T17:15:00.000+01:00

He saved us not because of righteous things we had done but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.

Titus 3:5

I went to Oasis Bakery, a local patisserie that specializes in assorted breads, cakes and other pastries, last night to get the family's "daily bread" - a fluffy, brown loaf of our favorite Big Coconut Bread. As I stood at the counter waiting to be served, I noticed a particularly filthy-looking boy in the bread shop, talking to a couple of the store attendants. "How did he get in here?" I thought as I looked him over. The plastic bowl he held in his hand identified him as an Almajiri, a member of an antiquated, and now abused, Islamic system of apprenticeship for boys and young men that emphasizes servitude and self-denigration. These lads are set apart by the way they look, always dirty, unkempt and decidedly indigent, dressed in rags and carrying around their begging bowls looking for handouts of money, food and any scraps society may throw their way.

This young boy looked very out of place in the clean and sophisticated insides of the bakery and I paid closer attention to see what this might be about. As I watched, one of the attendants went to the shelf behind her and picked out a nice loaf of bread and gave it to the boy. That's when it hit me - he wasn't here begging for food or looking for scraps. He was here for the same reason as me - to buy bread. I watched him as he walked to the counter to pay for his prize. His gait was timid and his bearing nervous, if not fearful, and I could see why. He was in unfamiliar territory. Such was his bashfulness that he shyly curtsied like a girl when he gave the salesgirl his money.

But for all this, no-one could take anything away from him - he had the right to be there. He was here not because of the state of the clothes on his back but because of the color of the paper in his hand. He may have lived as a mendicant on the fringes of society all his life but here and now, he could stand with me because the money in his hand said he could. His cash was his key, it spoke for him.

Now we are not so far removed from this poor boy as we might think. Aren't we ourselves beggars, too unworthy to even ask for a part in eternity? Don't we know just how filthy and undeserving of a place in God's house we are? After all, our best attires the Bible summarily dismisses as "filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6). Like the Prodigal Son we all cry, "I am no longer worthy to be your child" (Luke 15:21). However we view ourselves - evil, bad, good or very good - all that counts for nothing. All that matters is where we stand with God and what Christ does for us. Don't you just love that verse - "… while we were still sinners Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). Wonderfully good news! My salvation has nothing to do with how good I am. It has everything to do with how generous He is.

And all of a sudden, the beggar deserves to be in the presence of the King. I deserve to be in heaven. What a wonderful statement. I deserve it because Christ speaks for me and He says so. Period.

With love, Doosuur.

Serendipity

2007-05-13T19:01:00.000+01:00

For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty savior. He will rejoice over you with great gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will exult over you by singing a happy song.

Zephaniah 3:17

ser·en·dip·i·ty [sèrrən díppətee]

noun

discovery of something fortunate: the accidental discovery of something pleasant, valuable, or useful
gift for discovery: a natural gift for making pleasant, valuable, or useful discoveries by accident*

It's my all-time favorite word, serendipity. I really don't know why. Maybe it's the way it sounds, the way it rings as it rolls off your tongue: "Serendipity". Maybe it's because it starts with serene and elicits feelings of peacefulness and calm. Maybe it's the child in me that enjoys unwrapping gifts to find out what I got for my birthday. I guess it's in all of us, the desire to discover something pleasant, something valuable, something useful.

Now imagine the thrill I got when I first read Zephaniah 3:17, "The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." Oh what beauty! Solomon, for all his lyrical prowess, could not nearly elicit such feelings of love and affection as this verse does. God, THE CREATOR-GOD HIMSELF, takes great delight in me, calms my deep concerns with his love, and sings, actually sings! because of me. What breath-taking wonder!

Now take a step back and try to capture the moment, the emotion behind these words. Remember that time when you fell in love with that special person. Remember the thoughts? the feelings? the butterflies in your stomach? Remember the exhilaration you experienced at the mention of her name? Can you still feel the titillating sensations provoked by the lightest brush of his hand against yours? Their simplest smile brought out the poet in you. Their mildest hurt became your personal pain. Their joys made you dance. Is it then so hard to imagine why someone would so delight in you as to sing a song in your name and give you a loving hug to make you feel safe? Love made you do it and love makes Him to do it.

You see, unlike us, God doesn't get tired of loving. The honeymoon is never over so far as He's concerned. He's just as ready to get up and dance, to take up the guitar and serenade you. He's crazy about you! Yes, there's no greater discovery than to understand God's love. What joy! What beauty! What serendipity!

With love, Doosuur.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

2007-05-04T19:05:00.000+01:00

We must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Acts 20:35

Rain, Rain, go away, come again another day.

That's exactly how I felt this afternoon as I stood on the hospital walkway, staring at the gloomy skies and sodden earth, listening to the rain pitter-patter on the tin canopy. I was tired, hungry and more than a little miffed. The driver had gone for his Friday prayers and, while waiting for him, it had begun to rain. And the rain refused to let up. A full one-and-a-half hours it poured, perhaps more rain than Gumel has experienced so far this year.

So I just stood there, knotted brow and all, my hands folded in annoyance across my chest, staring into space and wondering what in the world I was going to do. I was a full two hours drive away from my destination and the day was wearing on minute after slow minute. It had been a very busy day and all I wanted was a hot meal and a cold shower.

I was in such a huff I hardly noticed the sick young boy, bundled up in a wrapper, lying on the bench on the causeway right next to me. His middle-aged mother tried to help him up and I thought she was going to take him back into the ward but when he finally managed to stand up she turned towards me and asked me to have a seat. I was amazed! Why would she put her sick son to such trouble just to make me feel comfortable? Had she somehow noticed my frustration or was she just being nice and respectful. My face broke into a smile and I could feel my heart thaw as warmth flooded over me. I politely declined her offer and as I walked away I couldn't help blessing her for her kindness.

All of a sudden I felt like inconsiderate Jonah outside of Nineveh, unhappy at God's gift of kindness (this time in the form of rain) just because it put me at some discomfort. And here was an aging woman and her sick son shaming me by their selflessness. Both of them were weaker than me but they chose to serve me by making me comfortable. What's more, I believe they would have done the same thing any day of the week to just about anyone. What blessedness!

For all their kindness, I could not think another unkind thought all day, so long as I remembered them. And now I'm indebted. I must find someone else to infect with this kindness. The contented smile on their face told me that they were more blessed when they gave to me than I could ever be by receiving their gift. Yes, they got the better deal!

With love, Doosuur.

Learning the Roads of Kano, Part 2

2007-04-26T19:20:00.000+01:00

But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.

1 Peter 3:15

In my previous write-up I emphasized how we must focus on what we know, rather than on what we can remember. "But," you say, "how can one know anything without first learning it? And how can one learn something without first committing it to memory?" Good point. I didn't always know how to navigate Kano, no sir.

I remember when, as a rookie corper, I was dropped off in the middle of Kano's business district during rush-hour. I felt like that yellow circle in the 1980's classic computer game, Pac-Man, trapped in an elaborate labyrinth, with careening motorbikes and speeding cars converging on me like alien monsters. Driving in Kano was an ordeal, indeed it still is. They seem to have their own Driving Code and it has one rule only: Don't Die. Anything else is permissible. It was hard enough trying to stay alive, let alone learning how to navigate the maze of human and vehicular traffic to get to my destination. Add to that the fact that just about every road in Kano starts and ends in a roundabout and, worst of all, they all seem to look the same.

With time, I began to learn the way around some particular place of interest: this is how to get to the restaurant; take this road to church; this street leads to the hospital. I learned my way around little sections of the city at a time and gradually I would come to some intersection at the boundary of a particular quarter and, voila, there was something I recognized - a traffic light, a billboard or, yes, a roundabout. "Oh, so this is where I am!" I would exclaim as realization flooded over me. So, my knowledge of the greater part of Kano came from connecting my knowledge of the different sectors of the city together like the pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle. That's one way to do it.

And then there's Abuja. You know the motif - wide roads, beautiful landscape, picturesque high rise buildings. The good news is that, unlike Kano, the roundabouts are kept to a respectable number. The bad news is that everything else looks exactly the same. I recently shared my concerns about getting round Abuja with a friend and he in turn related how another friend gets around his quandary. He has a "spot" in Abuja from where he can find just about anywhere else. It's like the center of a big spider's web. Whenever he cannot find his way, he heads back to that spot and starts out from there.

So there you have it. One method focuses on putting the puzzle together one piece at a time. Another bases it's success on working from the center, the hub if you like, outward. The common denominator, however, is that both begin with what is known, whether it is the puzzle piece (that neighborhood of Kano) or the center of the web (that spot in Abuja).

So then, I ask you. What do you know? What truth do you hold as of highest importance in your mind. What is that belief that no one can take away from you? It is important that you settle these things between yourself and God because there will be times of testing - a questioning colleague, an unexpected illness, a troubled spouse - that will push your faith to the limit. When those times come, connect the pieces, head for the hub, fall back to what you know and let God help you find your way back to faith and trust.

With love, Doosuur.

Learning the Roads of Kano, Part 1

2007-04-26T19:12:00.000+01:00

For the truth about God is known to them instinctively. God has put this knowledge in their hearts … They can clearly see his invisible qualities-his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse whatsoever for not knowing God.

Romans 1:19,20

It's a good thing I served in Kano state. You should have seen me today as I directed my driver through the streets of the ancient city as if I had drawn the map myself. I was pretty proud of myself, I must say, giving directions to a seasoned driver in a foreign city. His knowledge went only so far as the boundaries of Jigawa state, and Kano city, for him, was uncharted territory. So, naturally, I became his guide: "Go straight at the intersection … take a right here … slow down, you'll soon turn … can you see that green signboard?" I was in my element.

The good thing about it is that giving the directions came naturally for me. I didn't have to think hard or make any calculations. I didn't wonder, should we take this road or that? It all came to me without effort. Why? Because I remembered the way? No, not because I remembered but because I knew the way. Same difference you say? Well the distinction may be very subtle but sometimes it can mean a lot. Let me explain.

If you ask me my sister's name, I don't have to think about it. Her name is Nguavese and I can bet my life on it. I don't remember that it is her name. I know it for a fact. But then ask me who's that guy Austine just introduced me to. "Uhh, Obiora" I answer, because I remember when he said, "meet my friend Obiora." But I won't stake anything on it. For one thing, he may have said "Obioha" and I just didn't hear right, or maybe he told an untruth, or maybe Austine wasn't sure himself.

Do you see my point? Knowledge is so far superior to memory. Any good student will tell you that. It's so much easier to pass an exam when you actually know what you're writing about rather than just gushing out hastily-crammed snippets of information. Knowledge is indisputable. If you know something, you know it, period. Your memory on the other hand could easily be flawed.

So here's what I've learned. As a young, growing Christian, it is essential that I focus on what I know because that is what will see me through when the going gets tough. And it does get tough. Which of us has not struggled with questions of faith. Who can say he has not at some point been confused on some point of theology or other. Some of us have faced such difficulties on a larger and more staggering scale than others, but my advice is the same to everyone, regardless: Ask whatever question you will, search wherever you will, but when all is said and done, focus on what you know and have become convinced of because what you know for a fact will not be taken from you.

I may learn the fine points, but when my faith is challenged, trying to remember that verse or that quotation could easily be counterproductive. I must not ask myself, "Doosuur what can you remember?" If I start from what I know, I believe the rest will follow.

And here is what I know: "The Lord is God, and the Lord is good." And that will have to do.

With love, Doosuur.

Don't miss the second part, next.

A Little Bird Told Me

2007-04-14T19:15:00.000+01:00

We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us…

Romans 5:3-5

These last several days I've been woken up in the morning by the insistent tapping of a little bird on my window. I wish I knew Morse Code so I could interpret what secrets little birdie is trying to tell me. He is a study in persistence as he pecks the window, hops around a little and returns to peck the same spot, over and over again. I wonder what this is all about. Is he trying to get through the window to the other side? Or is this perhaps some part of an elaborate mating ritual? Or maybe he's just having some morning exercise. I don't know. But this I do know: as insistent and unflinching as he may be, barring a major miracle, he's never going to get through the thick glass.

In Jesus' Parable of the Persistent Widow, Luke 18, he tells of a woman who got justice for herself and her family by her insistence. Luke starts his narrative this way, "Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up." There is a lot of value in the teaching of this passage - that we must be persistent and insistent, even in prayer, and we will get what we ask for. But through our own experience we know that we do not always get what we desire. Sometimes we find ourselves up against a thick glass wall, pecking away with no help in sight. What do we do then?

I've learned two things from little birdie. First of all, keep trying. The thing about life that we must keep in mind is that it is not a destination. Life is a journey and getting where we are going is only a little part of it. The trials and testings we face are what make life what it is. So, to the extent that we can, we ought to bask in the sunlight of our testing. The thing about perseverance is that it builds in us character: traits such as hope, resilience and patience. We may not get to the destination, but like the heroes of faith (Hebrews 11:39&40) that may be because there is something much better in store.

The other thing I've come to understand from watching my feathery friend is to take a break. He doesn't pound on the window for too long at a time. Like I said, he pauses between glass-pecking sessions to hop around a bit, and once the morning session is over, he flies away till the next day. In our endless drive to succeed we must learn the value of taking a step back to evaluate what it is we are about. Remember what James said, "And even when you do ask, you don’t get it because your whole motive is wrong..." (James 4:3) When we take a break, aside from giving us a chance for much-needed rest it enables us to look at things critically and, perhaps objectively, and decide whether our pursuits are really worth running after.

By the way, I finally deciphered what little birdie was trying to tell me all along. It's quite simple really: "Wake up oh sleeper! Rise … and … shine." (Ephesians 5:14)

With love, Doosuur.

True Confessions

2007-04-03T19:15:00.000+01:00

… You are a slave to whatever controls you.

2 Peter 2:19

I have an addiction. Actually, it seems I always have done.

It happens at different periods of my life, my obsession with something. It just captivates me and seems to take up just about all my time. Sometimes it's constructive, sometimes it's just wasteful. At one time it was keyboards, then chess, then the internet. Lately, it's been this football management game on my laptop. Testing my skills against the likes of a virtual Mourinho and Ferguson has been pretty exhilarating. I return to it moment after moment to get my own little "high".

Like all true addictions, it started pretty insidiously and gradually grew on me. At the beginning, it was just an interesting way to pass time while waiting for this or that. But then it slowly became something to look forward to. I no longer used it to pass time. I made time to indulge myself. Sad huh?

Now recognizing that it had become an addiction was not really that hard to do. I mean, it was staring me in the face. There was no "moment" when I said to myself, "Okay, you're in some trouble here." I just kind of knew that if one single thing was taking so much of my time then it was pretty dangerous.

Now here's where it gets interesting. I thought all I needed to do to get over it was to delete it from my computer. Nothing could be further from the truth. You should see the flourish with which I hit the uninstall button and my pride as I watched the laptop go through the motions of taking Football Manager out of my life. "There, I've done it" I announced to myself with pride. But that was only the beginning. The hard part was still to come. You see, deleting the program could not cure my addiction any more than throwing away a pack of cigarettes can curb a nicotine dependency. The problem is not the object of the addiction but the craving. While the desire remains it is intensely difficult to get on with anything else and you look for ways to satisfy yourself.

So here I was, no Football Manager to play with and bored stiff with nothing to do. I've learned, more from theory than experience, that the best way to get rid of an addiction is to turn to something else. Thankfully, I could turn back to my laptop and tell you all this story and hope that by sharing this somebody out there might hold me accountable. I'm sharing this also for the few of you that struggle with similar problems in your life. For one thing, know that you are not alone. And what's more, you can have victory! I'm working towards mine.

With love, Doosuur.

A Day in the Sahel

2007-03-29T19:16:00.000+01:00

Who else has held the oceans in his hand? Who has measured off the heavens with his fingers? … It is God who sits above the circle of the earth … He is the one who spreads out the heavens like a curtain and makes his tent from them … “To whom will you compare me? Who is my equal?” asks the Holy One.

Isaiah 40:12,22,25

My travels today took me to Maigatari, a town at the extreme north of this country, one kilometer from the Nigeria-Niger border. The topography, climate, vegetation and people of this area are, to say the least, intriguing. As we started on our trip, about 20 minutes out of Dutse, Jigawa state capital, we came across a caravan of a dozen camels led by a young boy, perhaps about 10 years old. The beastly animals were strolling casually, moving north at a leisurely pace. We quickly passed them and proceeded to our destination.

The first thing anyone would notice about this place is the heat. It is, in a word, unbearable. The only thing worse than the blazing sun is the breeze. Yes, the breeze. The air itself was so hot that we had to wind up our car windows and endure the oven-like conditions of a closed car rather than be exposed to the blast of hot air.

As we approached Maigatari, the vegetation became noticeably sparer until only the occasional shrub showed up. Tumbleweed punctuated the highway every few kilometers, like a Clint Eastwood western. The terrain was so spare and flat that it was possible to take in all God's earth for miles around in every direction, right up to the horizon. Everything was covered in a sea of brown with only the occasional island of green where a particularly hardy breed of shrub was still kicking strong despite the harsh dryness.

As if we needed any confirmation that we were on the borders of the Sahara, our hired vehicle got caught in the loose sand. As we stepped out of the car to help push it free I inadvertently lost a slipper and stepped on the sand. It was so hot, I promise I could have fried an egg, sunny-side-up, had I a frying-pan to hand. How some kids could play around barefooted in this sand was quite beyond me.

Our wilderness experience wouldn't have been complete without, of course, the occasional mirage. Add to that a true mini-sandstorm. Okay, in truth, it was just a whirlwind, but it painted everything around in a coat of brown and made the end-of-day shower that much more refreshing.

As we made the trip back to Dutse, a full six hours after we first left, we came across the same camel caravan. The camels were regal in their bearing, tall, brown and fearless. It would seem they had not stopped for a moment's rest and they could have carried on another full day. We stopped to take pictures but the caravan leader jumped down and ran towards us, shouting. He insisted that we not take pictures unless we gave them some money. When we said we had none to give, he dipped his hand in his own pocket saying, "Well, if you don't have then I will give you my money!" Amazing!

I learned that even in the driest, hottest, most arid parts of this earth, God's creation still retains it's great, if enigmatic, beauty. Praise God for the Sahel!

With love, Doosuur.

If you find the time, please read Isaiah 40 and worship our creative God with me.

Why did the Goat Cross the Road?

2007-03-28T19:17:00.000+01:00

How is it, Maecenas, that no one lives contented with his lot, whether he has planned it for himself or fate has flung him into it, but yet he praises those who follow different paths?

Horace (65-8 BC), Roman poet

The Myth of the Greener Grass.

I remember once, travelling by road somewhere in the West, a trio of young goats ran across the road in front of our commercial car, causing the driver to hit the brakes and swerve to avoid hitting them.

"What are they looking for on that side of the road that is not on this side?" one passenger remarked. A pretty astute observation, I think. Perhaps the goats assumed that the grass on the other side was sweeter, or at least greener.

Maybe it's the same reason why you think her dress is prettier than yours, his wife is more beautiful than yours or their son is smarter and more responsible than yours. The same reason why your neighbor's lawn looks that particular shade of green. It's the Myth of the Greener Grass. It's premise is that the grass is always greener on the other side. We all fall victim to this belief at one time or the other. Think about it. How many times have you compared yourself with someone else and come up short? How often do you think things would be different and better if you found yourself in someone else's shoes? Psychologists suggest that this is why many men suffer the mid-life crisis. All of a sudden they wake up and realize that the life they've been living could be better. It certainly looks better on others.

Well there's news for you. It may not be particularly good news, but it's true. The grass is just as green on the other side. Now it may be true that our circumstances are dependent on what "fate" (if you will allow it) has thrown our way. But to the larger extent, it's less about what comes your way and more about what you do with it. It's our prerogative to make the most of the life we've been given to live and, when we've done that, to find contentment with our lot in life. The other guy may be looking over into your own yard and envying your lawn. It works both ways.

When we go chasing shadows we hurt others who depend upon us for stability and love. Find satisfaction in your life and enjoy your patch of grass to the fullest. At least it is yours and no-one will take that from you.

With love, Doosuur.

Why did the Sheep Cross the Road?

2007-03-26T19:18:00.000+01:00

… A doubtful mind is as unsettled as a wave of the sea ... People like that should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. They can't make up their minds. They waver back and forth in everything they do.

James 1:6-8

Here's a question for you. Which animal is smarter? More intelligent? Sheep or goats? You probably answer "Goats", right? Everyone knows sheep are stupid, dumb animals. But then consider this: How come it is that goats are so much more likely to be roadkill than sheep? I remember only a couple of times seeing a dead sheep by the roadside. But goats? More than I can count. Perhaps the reason is that by nature goats are more likely to graze by the roadside while sheep are more domesticated and stay at home. Be that as it may, I believe there is another important reason: Goats are too smart for their own good.

The thing about sheep is that they're mostly predictable - it's quite easy for the driver of a car to know what the sheep will do. It usually has one mind - it's instinct and natural urge to follow. They will probably cross the road in a column, behind their leader, and once they've started across, they are unlikely to turn round or make sudden moves. Once they head off, they will get to their destination at the same pace. The driver is thus able to make a good judgment to either speed up, slow down or steer clear to avoid the sheep.

Goats for their part are considerably less predictable. In a moment of crisis they are likely to be caught in two minds - their instinct versus their unfortunately smart brain. It is difficult for them to condense all the information in an instant - survival instinct, distance across the road in either direction, speed of the car, their own speed, etc - and so they make sudden, unexpected and poorly informed moves that often result in accident and death. Their own wisdom may be superior to that of sheep but, because it is incomplete, it is their undoing.

Perhaps now it is easier to see why Jesus would use sheep to represent the good guys in his parable of Matthew 25. I will not go so far as to suggest that God will have us be unthinking individuals with no personal opinion but, like sheep, it will do us a world of good if our principal sentiment is to follow in the steps of our leader, even when trouble is coming our way. That way we will remain safe.

The goats which, according to the parable, are sorted to the left side of the shepherd represent those destined for eternal punishment. Perhaps we act like goats when we let conflicting emotions - emotions like doubt, pride, lust, greed and malice - cloud our judgment and leave us in two minds. The result is the same - Death.

So, for once, I'd much rather be a stupid sheep than a wise goat.

With love, Doosuur.

Independence Day

2007-03-26T17:40:00.000+01:00

A Learner's Dilemma

2007-03-19T17:43:00.000+01:00

People-Watching

2007-03-16T17:45:00.000+01:00

At the Dentist

2007-03-08T15:59:00.000+01:00

... Though I have received wonderful revelations from God, ... to keep me from getting puffed up, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan to torment me and keep me from getting proud.

2 Corinthians 12:7

So I finally made it to the dentist to have my tooth checked out. As he examined me he discovered that it was my last molar, upper left, that was giving me such trouble. Interestingly, the dentist noted, the last molars are indeed the most useless and, at the same time, the most troublesome teeth. You could lose all four of your last molars, he informed me, and still retain 99% of your chewing capacity. On the other hand, because of their reclusive location and their proximity to the buccal folds, food tends to get trapped nearby, serving as a nidus for infection and decay.

So useless, so troublesome. A terrible combination. It's as though this tooth causes trouble just to get your attention. Since it's apparently so useless, it has to do something to get noticed.

I can imagine that Paul debated this very matter with himself when he talked about the nature of the Body of Christ in 1 Corinthians 12, comparing it to the human body. He opines, "God has put the body together in such a way that extra honor and care are given to those parts that have less dignity. This makes for harmony among the members, so that all the members care for each other equally. If one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it, and if one part is honored, all the parts are glad."

Yes, who would ever notice that poor old tooth if it didn't give me trouble. Is there a lesson in there somewhere? I think so. If you ask yourself, critically, when you're most likely to pray, you'd probably answer when you're in trouble. We tend to give priority in prayer and concern to the troublesome areas of our lives, and rightfully so. Sometimes, perhaps, it might be God's way of drawing our attention to certain areas of our lives that need prayer and action. Perhaps, too, that is why Paul was given his "thorn in the flesh" (2 Corinthians 12), to draw his attention to the problem of pride.

So when next I suffer such pain, physical or emotional, I have to take pause and think, "Is God trying to get my attention?"

With love, Doosuur.

Born Again

2007-03-08T15:50:00.000+01:00

And I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your hearts as you trust in him. May your roots go down deep into the soil of God's marvelous love. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love really is.

Ephesians 3:18

I was having lunch yesterday when an old classmate of mine popped in. I had not seen him since before National Service so, naturally I was glad. The rendezvous was made all the more pleasant by some great news he had to give me.

You see, this friend of mine has been a Muslim for as long as I have known him, some ten years. Perhaps you, like me, have long desired the salvation of an associate or friend. We even feel guilty because it may seem that we want them saved more than others. You think about your friend, "She's so nice, so friendly, so … everything. If only she were a Christian." That's exactly the way I felt about this guy. He appears so complete in other areas of his life that it was that much more painful to see him heading the wrong way, so far as God is concerned.

But yesterday, he had good news for me. "I am now 'born again'" he said to me, quite matter-of-factly.

I felt a flush over my face as I was momentarily silent. It took a moment for that simple statement to sink in. My first response was disbelief. "Please stop joking," I said. "You shouldn't joke about things like that." But as he persisted and another friend confirmed it, I could see that he was actually serious.

"Why?", "How?", "When?", the questions started pouring in as my excitement grew. Apparently, he had considered it for awhile. He remembered the long-term prayers of his aunt (over a period of about 12 years) and, in his estimation, this was the single most important factor. Then there was the influence of friends and some Christian family members. But he made the final decision in the quiet of his room. "If anyone really wants to see the truth," he said, "it is quite obvious to see."

Many people contributed to this young man's transformation but the work was all that of the Holy Spirit. Whether tilling his heart, planting the seed or watering, it all served a single purpose. And thank God for that.

I just want to join the angels of heaven and God's congregation to rejoice in the salvation of this brother.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye! Sule Ibrahim Jibrin is saved!

With love, Doosuur.

Please join me and pray Paul's prayer in Ephesians 3 on his behalf.

A Toothache

2007-02-26T16:02:00.000+01:00

I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.

John 16:33

If you've ever experienced a toothache you will know just how excruciating the pain can become. It's so uncomfortable because you feel so helpless. You touch the offending tooth and think up ways to stop the pain but to no avail. Until you have the tooth removed, the pain persists.

I'm suffering from toothache right now. Last night I slept fitfully and woke up often to take pain medication. But this morning it became much worse. Just now, I was dancing around because of the pain and could have just about burst into tears, quite literally, when the pain disappeared. I mean it simply vanished. I cannot explain it in the least. All I know is that one moment I was experiencing some of the most intense pain of my life and the next moment it was gone. Wow! If you ever needed proof that miracles still happen…

The significance of my sudden relief is not lost on me. It's the kind of "twinkling of an eye" event that scripture talks about. In 1 Corinthians 15 Paul tells us that these earthly, corruptible bodies will be exchanged for heavenly, immortal bodies in the twinkling of an eye. Just like that. One moment this, the next moment that.

"Our bodies now disappoint us," he says, "but when they are raised, they will be full of glory. They are weak now, but when they are raised, they will be full of power." What a momentous occasion, I can hardly wait.

In developing his argument, Paul uses the analogy of a seed sown into soil. It's planted in one form and grows into another. But before it can become a fruiting plant the seed must die, change form, be watered, and endure the scorching sun, the relentless rain and the blistering cold until it reaches maturity. It must go through a lot of pain before it can become what it was meant to be all along. But in the end, the entire process is worth it. What a sweet relief!

The same applies to us. In this world we will experience suffering, hardships and, yes, toothaches, but in the end it will all be gone, in the twinkling of an eye. And it will all be worth it.

With love, Doosuur.

The Waiting Game

2007-02-20T16:02:00.001+01:00

I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.

Psalm 27:13,14

Traffic in Jos is at a standstill. I was on my way to pick my younger brother from school when I met a traffic hold-up. After sitting still a short while, I walked up to the junction to find out what might be the problem. "We're waiting for the chief," one person volunteered. "The number one." I soon found out that he was referring to President Obasanjo and his entourage making the political rounds in Jos.

Good enough, I thought, as I sat down to wait. But slowly one minute turned into five, into ten and still no sign of any let up. I sat back in my chair and dug into a Reader's Digest to help pass the time but my patience quickly turned to exasperation as the hour-mark approached. The most frustrating thing about my predicament is that in Jos there are precious few alternative routes to take you anywhere. I soon left to seek another path but the second and third options were clogged with other people thinking like me. Finally, after about an hour and a half I got to my destination.

I'm not sure any of us likes waiting, particularly not for other people. The analytical side of me wonders why thousands of man-hours should be spent waiting, in vain no less, for a single individual.

But the experience reminds me of the heroes of scripture. They very often were made to wait patiently for the Lord. Joseph endured oppression and incarceration while awaiting his elevation. Hannah endured barrenness and taunting while waiting for her child. David endured hunger and the harsh wilderness while waiting for his kingdom. The list goes on and on. But in each case they eventually received what had been promised.

This lesson is significant for me as much as for anyone, because I find myself at a stage in life where I have to do a lot of waiting. It's the crossroads that we all come to at one point or the other where life-changing decisions have to be made. You'll agree with me that it's never easy to wait expectantly when answers seem far off, but I'm learning that the prize is always worth the wait. So I'll keep waiting.

With love, Doosuur

I would cherish your thoughts, whether you're at the crossroads, been there & done that or are yet to get there.

The Waiting Game

2007-02-20T16:02:00.000+01:00

I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.

Psalm 27:13,14

With love, Doosuur

I would cherish your thoughts, whether you're at the crossroads, been there & done that or are yet to get there.

A Visit to the Locksmith

2007-02-14T16:03:00.000+01:00

Jesus told him, "What you are about to do, do quickly."

John 13:37

I fixed the lock on my car yesterday. It is no big deal, really, until you consider that I have not been able to open the driver's door for several years now. It's a chronic problem that I never bothered to deal with until my dad insisted a couple of days back. And what did it cost me? 20 minutes and 200 Naira. That's it. 20 minutes to deal with a several-years-old problem. Why I didn't deal with it earlier, I have no idea. The solution was always so simple but going out of my way to do it always seemed prohibitive. I look back and remember how many times I had to walk round the car to open the passenger-side door. The ladies thought it was chivalry but I knew better.

It's the evil we call procrastination. We all deal with it on a day-to-day basis and what we lose because of it is incredible. I have only to look back at the year passed to see just how much I put things off and what they cost me. Deadlines missed, plans spoiled, opportunities spurned. All because I chose to leave things undone. Someone has joked, "Why do today what you can leave till tomorrow." We may think that it is funny until we realize that perhaps, to a large extent, that is how we have been living our lives up to this point. What a waste! No, I prefer to ask myself, "Why leave till tomorrow what you can do today?"

It is also terribly unsettling to remember how I would go around the car to open the far door. At a moment it seems a negligible inconvenience but when you multiply that by several times a day for several years the thought becomes quite discomfiting. I wonder if this is the way we circumnavigate little problems in our lives rather than tackling them head-on. They may seem small but until they are dealt with they will continue to cause us trouble and indeed master us.

This thought reminds me of Solomon's Shulammite bride in Song of Songs 2. "Quick! Catch all the little foxes," she cries, "before they ruin the vineyard of your love." She knows too well that it's the little things that complicate the big things. The same principle applies to work, business and, yes, love.

Have a lovely Valentine's Day.

With love, Doosuur.

Old Money

2007-02-08T16:04:00.001+01:00

Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

Luke 12:33

I am sure you, like me, have occasionally found yourself stuck with old currency that you could not use. You ask yourself how in the world you accepted such a worn-out, torn note and curse your luck. You wonder what to do about it. Because you do not live in Kano. You see, in this old city, anything that has ever been used as legal tender is acceptable. From old 50 Kobo coins to the dirtiest, ugliest 5 Naira note you'll ever see. I sometimes wonder that I have yet to see shillings in use there.

Unfortunately for me, I came back to Jos with a lot of old, dirty currency as change. I stopped by the roadside today to buy some yoghurt from a Fan merchant but the disgust on his face as I counted out the money said it all: "Your currency is not acceptable here." Money that I had used freely just a few days ago was no longer tenable and these old notes had suddenly lost their value.

Reminds me of Jesus' teachings in Luke 12. First he tells the parable of the Rich Fool, a pretty wise man by this world's standards, seeing as he was so successful in farming and business. But he was unwise in thinking his life was guaranteed and for trusting in his riches. God's reply to him was none too kind: "You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you." Jesus said in conclusion, "This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God." As wealthy as this man was, his currency was not acceptable in Heaven.

In the next part of the chapter, Jesus teaches, "Do not worry… Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? … Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted … For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." I couldn't say it better myself. The bottom line I guess is that we must work for treasure that will be presentable when crunch time comes because then, your money will not matter. The sign reads: Earthly Currency Not Accepted Here.

With love, Doosuur.

Old Money

2007-02-08T16:04:00.000+01:00

Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

Luke 12:33

With love, Doosuur.

"I Want to be a Doctor"

2007-02-03T16:08:00.000+01:00

No one can serve two masters. For you will hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.

Matthew 6:24

I was chatting with a seven-year old friend earlier today when she leaned in towards me for a little tête-à-tête. I obliged, leaning close to hear what she might say, and she whispered into my ear, "When I grow up, I want to be a doctor." A smile lit my face. What a smart girl to be thinking about her future already.

"Why?" I asked her. "Why do you want to be a doctor?"

I wasn't exactly prepared for her response. She lifted her eyebrows with delight as she said very slowly, "I want to make money," rubbing her fingers together at that last word, like she was counting currency.

Oh horrors! Whatever happened to "I want to help people" and "I want to save the world"? What is this world coming to?!

But as aghast as I was at her statement, I had to admit that she was perhaps the most self-aware of us all. She had the wisdom at her age to voice what most of us only admit to ourselves after years of frustration. In truth making money and success in business are our very great, if not principal motivators for roughing it out through another day. Why is this so? I know it has to do with the sense of security that comes with having money. It's a truth of life: "Money answereth all things", so the Preacher says in Ecclesiastes 10. There are so many things we can achieve - for self, family, country and God - when we have money.

Having said that, like so many poets old and new insist, money cannot buy happiness. We know this just as surely as we know that night follows day. But it doesn't stop us from our almost pathological thirst for more and more money. I think most people are so driven by the desire for money because as humans we have a need to feel in control of our circumstances. Whether we admit it or not, trusting in something unseen and intangible is so much more difficult than trusting in what we can hold with our own two hands or, for that matter, in our wallet. Surrender is a very difficult thing for us to do.

But that is what God calls us to. When Jesus said, "Let the children come to me … for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these," (Mark 10) he alluded to their implicit trust. "I assure you", he said, "anyone who doesn't have their kind of faith will never get into the Kingdom of God." We must trust first in God before anything else. Matthew 6 says, "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well." Which would you rather do - Work for money or work for God and have money work for you? I know which I'll choose.

With love, Doosuur.

The Taimako Phenomenon

2007-02-01T16:09:00.000+01:00

We were not idle when we were with you nor did we eat anyone's food without paying for it. On the contrary, we worked night and day … so that we would not be a burden to any of you.

2 Thessalonians 3:7&8

The Taimako Phenomenon. It's a term I coined to describe a concept that I think is key to the persistent poverty of the people of rural Northern Nigeria. "Taimako" is the Hausa word for the verb "to help". It seems to permeate just about everything they do and say from the marketplace to the motor park to the hospital. "Help", "help", "help" in all it's different inflections is all I hear from sunup to sundown. Nothing wrong with a culture of looking out for one another but, in this case, what is sacrificed in the name of help is probably not worth it.

I was doing my "farewell" rounds earlier today, visiting some of my colleagues of the past one year for one last time. One staffer took me to his place and showed me his drug store. It was a pretty rundown affair with a rickety old chair, dusty shelves and a very spare stock. He showed me several-year-old records of debts owed to him by friends, neighbors and relatives - all members of the "Taimako" society. Bad debts, the vast majority of them.

On my part, I remember having to say a firm "No" over and over again to different people I came across over the past year only to see their jaws quite literally drop in horror. They were shocked! How could I say I would not help?! How evil of me!

What is worrying in all this is the attitude I think this "help" mentality engenders among these people. They are very laid back, if not downright lazy. Not many are industrious and very few will go out of their way to struggle for what we may consider a better living. Why work hard for anything when you can get help next door? A pretty simple philosophy.

You know, I tremble with trepidation to be critical of anything the Early Church did, seeing as they were so filled with the Spirit, but from a limited perspective, it is easy to see how their experiment at communal living was fraught with so much trouble. Acts 4 says, "From time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need." Now extrapolate this scenario across a few years and an exponentially-growing population and you have a pretty messy, if not desperate, picture.

To the same extent that we as Christians encourage ourselves to lend a hand of help to the next person, we must also encourage him to stand on his own two feet. Perhaps that is the best way you can help your brother - make him help himself. You may not have to look far. Perhaps all you have to do is to submit somebody's CV, introduce a new business concept, encourage someone to finish his education or invest his money. In truth, like a friend has taught me, financial security is not just about having enough money to take care of personal needs. It goes beyond to include a "shell" of financially-dependent people surrounding you. I'm not secure until the people around me are secure.

So, like the proverbial fisherman, don't give me a fish. Take me to the waterside.

With love, Doosuur.

Season's Change

2007-01-27T16:09:00.000+01:00

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

Hebrews 13:8

It's all happening so fast: The haze and chill are going and it's getting hot and dry again. The birds wake up early to sing their songs of joy and hope as the cold-blooded lizards are quickly dethroned by the warm-blooded rats. The mosquitoes return from their annual leave to give me perhaps the worst episode of malaria of my adult life.

These are all signs of one thing - Season's change. Yes, the Harmattan is on its way out as the Hot Season takes its place. The sun is already hot and blazing here in Kano and I'm so grateful that I don't have to endure it for much longer. You see, these events coincide with the end of my service year and I'm so grateful for the experience and that God has brought me this far. So, here I stand at yet another milestone in life. You know the thing about milestones - on the one side they tell how far you've come while on the other side they warn that there's still some distance to go.

You know the saying, "Change is the only constant thing in life." How true. It's sad to see some of my friends one last time and realize that I may never see them again. It's just the nature of our lives - you can be sure that a few years from now you will be in significantly different circumstances from where you are now. It may have to do with your career, your studies, your relationships, whatever, but it will be different. How do we deal with change? I wonder.

First, God doesn't change and because of that He's a steady anchor. He says it quite clearly in Malachi 3:6, "I am the Lord and I do not change." Our periods of change will definitely bring about feelings of insecurity and uncertainty but it's good to be able to hold onto something, or Someone, as steady and sure as God. He doesn't change and He is very able to help us through these periods.

Secondly, we must embrace change as a necessary part of our lives. Without change we couldn't grow and mature. Our experience would be severely limited making us less effective wherever we find ourselves. So with each new experience learn what you can and enjoy it for what it's worth.

Finally, as with each new season the year brings, there are joys and sorrows that come with every new phase of our lives, but then we can be sure that nothing lasts and the next season is on its way.

With love, Doosuur.

Through The Rubbish Dump

2007-01-23T16:09:00.000+01:00

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

2Corinthians 4:7

I observed a young Almajiri (apprentice Muslim youth) as he rummaged through the rubbish dump looking for anything of value. He would pick up this item or that, look at it for a moment or two, and toss it back. "Not Worthy", his seal of disapproval. "How in the world does he expect to find anything useful in this filth?" I wondered. But he plodded right on with hope in his eyes and anticipation in his attitude. He was determined to salvage something out of this royal mess.

In this world where immorality is on the increase and wickedness is rampant, is it not a wonder that God still finds anything or anyone worth saving? He must have a hard time looking at the earth. The Bible says, "The Lord is watching everywhere, keeping his eye on both the evil and the good" (Prov 15:3). What an onerous and unpleasant task, having to take in both the bad and the good. Imagine eating good food that has gone bad. Even the thought is noxious. But He does it in the hope that He will find something good, something worthy of being saved.

But the joyous part of it all is that it really is not about us. He does all the saving. We know that it is by grace that we are saved, through faith. It has nothing to do with ourselves, the way we are. It's not about how we look, how nice we are, or how pleasant is our speech. It's His loving gift all the way, such that none of us can boast about it (Eph 2:8,9). It's no wonder then, that He still finds people to save everyday. He's looking diligently and His task is not yet finished.

As I looked on, the young boy found an old tin can. He looked at it for a moment, turned it over and, with a smile, tossed it into his old rucksack along with the other stuff he had already collected. I observed that as he looked at that can, he was indeed seeing it not as it was but as it could be. Oh, what a wonder! Indeed God sees at once both what I am and what I could be. Is it not that much easier to see why He would choose to save me? Now what I am is not worth much at all. But what I could be! … Well, that's a whole different story.

With love, Doosuur.

Say "Cheese"

2007-01-17T16:11:00.000+01:00

A cheerful look brings joy to the heart.

Proverbs 15:30

I was waiting in line at the barbershop today for a haircut when I noticed a young man looking in my direction, with a transistor radio to his ear, and smiling quite sheepishly. I looked away for a while and when I looked again, he was still there. He seemed to be looking at me and his smile seemed pretty silly by now. I did the natural thing and turned away and then, very cautiously, looked again out of the corner of my eye. There he was, staring. This time I looked him full in the face, deliberate and unblinking. He seemed even more amused and even chuckled this time. "What in the world is he looking at?" I wondered as I looked around myself. Was it my clothes? My bald head? Maybe the fact that I was eating aya (I'm out of practice)?

But then I noticed the transistor radio to his ear. He was amused by what he was hearing, not by what he was seeing. As a matter of fact, he may have been looking quite alright, but he wasn't seeing at all. My presence there was of no consequence to him. His smiling countenance was determined not by what he could see but by the unseen - the voice in his ear.

I think that's the way we must be as Christians. Our countenance must be determined by the unseen - the voice in our hearts. 1 Thessalonians 5:16 says "Be joyful always." That's admittedly a tall order and seems absolutely impossible until we begin to learn that our circumstances must not determine our joy. Certainly we cannot always be happy. Life's just not that way. A friend once taught me that happiness is just that - happenness. It's dependent on the good things that happen to us and goes out the window when bad things happen. But joy is an entirely different proposition. It does not depend on anything that happens outside of us. It's based entirely on what's going on inside.

I find it easiest to be joyful by assuring myself, quite truthfully, that regardless of my circumstance all things will work for my good, according to God's promise (Romans 8). And I have the benefit of experience to fall back on. And then there's the peace that comes with just knowing God and being assured that He's intimately concerned with what happens to me.

But I believe we must go the extra step beyond just being joyful to showing joy. Take a look at yourself. Does your face bring a smile or a frown to the next person? How does the way you look reflect the way you feel on the inside? Remember, joy is infectious, so don't just have joy. Show it.

Put a smile on your face and watch your joy spread to others around you. In the Proverbs the teacher seems to suggest that our countenance will directly affect the way we feel and how joyful we are. So why don't we go ahead and try to put a smile on everything and give ourselves a better day.

With love, Doosuur.

When Easy Gets Hard

2007-01-16T16:12:00.000+01:00

...Your heavenly Father already knows all your needs, and he will give you all you need from day to day if you live for him and make the Kingdom of God your primary concern.

Matthew 6:32,33

Please forgive all the technical jargon. A prostatectomy is a surgical procedure to remove the prostate, a ball of flesh surrounding the outlet of the urinary bladder that tends to enlarge in elderly men, causing urinary obstruction.

A catheter is a rubber tube used to drain fluid from the bladder.

It's three-quarters of an hour beyond midnight and I just got out of the operating theatre. It began simply enough at about 8 p.m. as we took the elderly man in for his operation. Everything seemed to be going according to the script. He cooperated, the anesthesia worked, the incisions were perfect and, best of all, blood loss was minimal. My chief, the surgeon even toyed with the idea of not packing the wound with adrenaline-soaked gauze (which is used to minimize bleeding). "Better do it for what it's worth," I encouraged him. The surgery went very well, much better than most of our previous prostatectomies. Even the perennially uncooperative catheter worked this time.

We finished in record time, and as he stitched the skin and I packed up the instruments for the decontamination soak, we congratulated ourselves on the success. But then, he noticed that the catheter was draining bloodied fluid. No surprise there, but it gradually got redder and redder. We tried every maneuver in the book - and a few outside - to stop the bleeding without having to re-enter, but to no avail. So we had to open up again - remove all the stitches, enter the bladder and find the source of bleeding. We managed to isolate the bleeders and closed up again. By now exasperation was growing and we cautiously cast furtive glances at the catheter. Right on cue, as he was stitching the skin, the fluid turned red again.

Then I did the sensible thing. I prayed. One of those arrow prayers that went, "God, please just put your finger where this bleeding is and stop it so we can get out of here."

"I'm going to open up again" said the chief.

"No, just wait a minute" I said, as I tried to exercise my faith. And true enough, the fluid cleared. Whew! "Thank you Lord."

Hardly had I expressed my gratitude than the blood came flowing again.

So in we went for the third time. By now everything was coming undone. Instruments slipped to the floor, ligatures came loose, sutures got entangled and even a needle-stick injury. Frustration increased as surgical consumables got exhausted and hunger kicked in, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. We eventually managed to control it and the chief asked my advice, "Can I close up?"

I looked at him with pursed lips. He wasn't going to get a "yes" from me. So we waited. And sure enough, it started again. Blood oozing from just about everywhere. I don't know how we eventually got ourselves out of there but it wasn't without more than a little desperation.

What had started out as a relatively simple procedure had turned into, by his own admission, my chief's most difficult prostatectomy yet. But we finished. I guess that's the bottom line. We finished and thank God for that. It just goes to show that nothing in life is a given. The things we take for granted can take a turn for the worse at a moment's notice and our lives all become complicated by the simple things. But through it all, God remains faithful and He gives us the grace to thrash them out. And for that I'm grateful.

With love, Doosuur.

Measuring by the "mudu"

2007-01-15T16:12:00.000+01:00

Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.

Ecclesiastes 11:1

I was on the Takai-to-Kano commute a few days back in a ten-seater bus with 11 people, and as we went along, the conductor kept shouting, "Kano, Kano, Kano, Kano…" for whomever might want to join us. A group of three waved the bus down, and as they entered the conductor warned them "manaji ne" indicating that they would "manage" by sitting on the little projection at the back of the front seat that I believe the manufacturers intended for hand luggage. This sort of thing is not uncommon, particularly here in Kano state and, indeed, throughout the country. It reminded me of a trip I took a while back in Borno state where I was seated in a rickety old station wagon with seventeen, yes one-seven, other people. We were crammed in there like a can of sardines and no-one seemed to mind.

I sometimes wonder if Jesus would have used our crammed transportation as fodder for one of his parables if he had lived in our situation. Perhaps it would have helped in Luke 6 where he said, "Give, and it will be given to you." But the picture he uses reminds me of a Yoruba woman, a half-wrapper around the waist and headdress askew, measuring out rice in the market: "A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap." What a way to describe the return on your investment in the kingdom.

A good measure. First of all, God is fair. He has always been and will always be. You can be sure He will always repay more than you've given. His mudu is larger than yours. God pays.

Pressed down, shaken together. What happens when you shake grains of rice together? They align themselves such that there's no space for space; no allowance for emptiness. Imagine that - a life chock-full of blessings so that there's no space for nothingness. I think that's a pretty good deal.

Running over. God gives enough for you to share with those around. His blessings are best enjoyed in the company of others.

But the underlying principle is this: "With the measure you use, it will be measured to you." And therein lies the principle of investment. What you get in return is always dependent on what you put in. That's why Jesus starts his promise with the simple condition, "Give." I doubt you'll find a better deal anywhere else where the risk is zero, the capital is abundant and the reward is guaranteed. The promise is for thirty-, sixty- and a hundredfold. It's a steal, so why not go ahead and give - your time, your money, your self.

With love, Doosuur.

A Gift for Sallah?

2007-01-08T11:51:00.000+01:00

So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you…

Luke 11:9

"Dr. Malu! Dr. Malu!" the kids screamed as they ran towards me this evening for their daily play-around. I dutifully complied by throwing them in the air and spinning them round and round.

Then one of them spoke to me. "Dr. Malu, where's our Sallah money?" Her face was a sight to behold. It was lit up with expectancy, split in two by a wide grin.

"Your Sallah money?" I asked in mock disbelief. "Yes," she replied, "see what Aunty Shola gave us." "Or don't you have any money?" she volunteered. I couldn't help laughing out loud. It really was a joy to behold her hope and expectation for a gift at this time of the year. It really didn't matter so much what I gave them for Sallah as that I gave them something at all. I was glad for their innocence and the blissful gift of ignorance that kids are privy to. For them, 20 Naira is just as good as 200 Naira. Money is money, fullstop. Just give me something.

What stood out for me there was that the little lady asked at all. And secondly that she was ready to excuse me.

I learned sometime ago that one of the worst cancers that eats away at human relationships is unfulfilled expectations. One party wants something that the other party for one reason or the other fails to provide. And so, while one of them feels wronged, the other asks, "what did I do?" One is called insensitive, the other, unreasonable. It goes round and round in a self-perpetuating cycle that leaves both parties worn out and frustrated. Sound familiar? I think it's all too common around us.

Ask any counselor and he'll tell you that perhaps the single most important ingredient for a successful relationship is communication. Let the other person know what you're thinking and feeling from one moment to the next. Tell him and save yourselves the trouble of second-guessing. Ask for what you want. When we do this, there's no doubt in our mind that the next person knows exactly what we expect and has the option of at least discussing it, if not doing it outright.

Another thing I've learned through life, which some of you may not agree with, (please go ahead and say so) is that we must often be ready to excuse our friend/partner. Whether it's a marriage relationship or a peer friendship I believe this principle can often be helpful. Until there is incontrovertible reason to assume that the other person will not fulfill your expectations because of his insensitivity or otherwise, be willing to assume the best in their behalf.

I was really glad that my little friend spoke up and that she was not just willing to excuse my oversight, but even volunteered reasons why I had so wronged her. I didn't take the easy way out, but I was glad all the same. Very sensitive of her.

With love, Doosuur.

A Cold Shower

2007-01-01T11:53:00.000+01:00

Mortals make elaborate plans, but GOD has the last word. Put GOD in charge of your work, then what you've planned will take place.

Proverbs 16:1,3

Happy New Year everybody.

I always like having a nice hot bath whenever I get the opportunity, particularly when it's as cold as it is right now in Jos. Where I serve in Kano state there's hardly, make that never, electricity, and because I wake up late and lazy I hardly have time enough to heat water on the stove, so I often have to use cold water. But having a cold shower is quite an ordeal for someone who's not particularly used to it. I could stand in the bathroom for minutes on end, bowl of water in my hand, thinking about everything under the sun aside from having my bath. But what I've discovered is that starting to bath is the hardest part. So I gather as much courage as I can and then dump a full bowl on my head. After that, my best option is to get it over with as soon as I can, no more dallying. So, what's most important is starting.

So here we are, New Year. I'm sure we all think there's something or other we can do better this year than last year. Some of us may even have serious resolutions, things we've determined to do this year. What's it for you? A book you want to read? A new exercise regime? A friendship you want to develop? What's it going to be? Whatever the case, I'm sure it's very honorable. But I'll tell you, the best thing you can do for yourself is to start. Begin now. Don't wait for next month or next week, or even tomorrow. Get it on the road. Buy that journal. Make that call. Draw up that prayer list. Once you've done that, it'll be that much harder to stop and you're less likely to pass through yet another year with a string of unfulfilled plans.

You know the saying, "the first establishes the rest". That's too true. What you do at the beginning of this year will, to a large extent, determine the tone and tempo of the rest of the year. Are you going to sputter through, barely surviving another year or will you cruise through on a high?

I wish you all a great year.

With love, Doosuur.

Let us Pray

2006-12-28T11:54:00.000+01:00

I was glad when they said to me, "Let us go to the house of the Lord."

Psalm 122:1

I was just a couple of weeks into my Kano experience when I had a particularly disconcerting experience. I had gone to a supermarket to buy some stuff when I found the door firmly bolted in my face. I turned around wondering what had become of the storekeepers, only to see a gathering of men, in their obligatory flowing robes, all kneeling on their prayer mats for the mid-day Muslim prayers. "Won't you go and join them?", a nearby woman asked. I flashed her a look of righteous indignation, turned on the heel and strutted away, head held high. The whole motion said one thing only: "How dare you think I'm one of you!"

But then as I've become more used to living and dealing with Muslims it's very clear now that their religion is such an integral part of their culture and their everyday life. They certainly don't joke with their prayer times. It's not uncommon to hear them sounding words of invitation to each other, "let's go and pray", "have you prayed", etc. It's taken for granted - if you're a Muslim, you will pray. Even I have become seemingly so caught up in the system that when the time for prayer is approaching I ask my fellow workers, "won't you go and pray?" They've been conditioned to pray and to do so regularly.

Now without a doubt there's a great lesson to learn for us who pray to the Heavenly Father. I'm not for a minute going to suggest that you begin to treat prayer like a thing of religion. That'll just defeat the whole purpose. God designed it as something for fellowship more than just something we do out of a sense of duty. But that we do it at all is a good starting point. The more we spend time in prayer, the more we condition ourselves to love it and live it. As with all things we practice, it becomes less of an onerous task and more enjoyable with each experience.

So, borrow a leaf from my dear Muslim friends. Pray! And while you're at it, invite someone else. You'd be surprised where that simple act could take you. In a few seconds you could be actively changing your world.

With love, Doosuur.

Jesus on the Playground

2006-12-24T11:55:00.000+01:00

We don't have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He's been through weakness and testing, experienced it all - all but the sin. So let's walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.

Hebrews 4:15,16

Because God’s children are human beings—made of flesh and blood—Jesus also became flesh and blood by being born in human form... Therefore, it was necessary for Jesus to be in every respect like us, his brothers and sisters, so that he could be our merciful and faithful High Priest before God.

Hebrews 2:14&17

Watching a couple of kids play around this morning made me just a bit nostalgic of childhood. Playing ring-a-ring-a-roses and "catcher" (tag) as school-age kids in Kaduna with my siblings and neighbors was always a blast, really something to look forward to. Yeah, I miss the free-spirited nature of those young years. But I was there and I'm grateful for the experience.

As we celebrate Christ's birth this season, it brings to the fore that Jesus was here. He lived like us, worked like us, played like us. Imagine that - Jesus on the playground! Okay, I know it's kind of hard to picture Jesus singing silly songs and crying when he smudged his knee, particularly since he was teaching professors before he was a teenager, but I believe he did all those things, perhaps just as well as any of us. I'm thinking it's important that our idea of Christ changes from just a middle-aged bearded melancholic to include his childhood and youth. A new perspective can help us see the truth clearly - that Jesus was just like us, but without sin. He laughed, cried, ate, drank, swam, worked and did just about everything expected of a man in his culture. All man, as much as he was God.

Scripture says it was necessary for God to experience manhood so that he could identify with us in our weaknesses and know just at what points we need help. It is this experience that qualifies him to serve as High Priest in all God's house and to represent us before the Just Father. Hebrews 5 says "every high priest selected to represent men and women before God and offer sacrifices for their sins should be able to deal gently with their failings, since he knows what it's like from his own experience."

So as we pause this Christmas to remember the birth and youth of Jesus, thank God that he knows just about everything that we go through, and then some. And that he's gentle in dealing with us.

Have a lovely Christmas.

With love, Doosuur

A Bowl of Garri

2006-12-23T11:56:00.000+01:00

I thank you High God - you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration - what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit…

Psalm 139:14,15

For a bachelor serving in rural Northern Nigeria, food is at a premium. It's so difficult to get a decent meal (and my mother wonders why I'm so thin!).

Well, the other day, I and a few fellow corpers, Shola, Udeme and Wumi, gathered our broke selves in one of our rooms to drown our sorrows in a bowl of garri. Shola had some lovely Ife garri (she claims it's better than Ijebu) so we all pitched in to make a feast of it. One person brought the milk, another the milo, while I brought the sugar. Water, of course, was plentiful. As we each took our bowl and began concocting our respective cocktails, one thing became obvious. We all liked garri our way. What I mean is this: I take garri with lots of sugar and enough water but not milk, if the garri is sour. Shola thinks sugar in garri is spoiling the taste. But then she uses milk. Wumi likes his with milo and sugar. Udeme combines everything. And we all thought we were having garri the best way possible!

I think it's just like that with so many things in life. Each of us has his own way of doing things that works just for us. It may not please others, sometimes it's downright offensive, but it works for us. For example I like Indomie well enough (though I've had much too much this year), but then at the same time I'm not exactly a fan of spaghetti. Another person eats only fish, no meat. Others can't stand bread! But we're all the same species. Doesn't it just make you wonder?

Several things I learn from all this, but I think the most wondrous of all is to marvel at the immense diversity that God has put in us, the crème of His creation. He's made all of us with a strong streak of individuality, so that each human is his own person, without a duplicate. What a wonder! Why do siblings, even twins have their own likes and dislikes when they were brought up in the same environment, with the same exposures and influences? It's just God's way; and that's what makes His creation such a masterpiece.

It's also God's way of telling me I'm special; set apart from anyone else. So, yes, I have no qualms about liking what I like and disliking what I dislike. That's just me, the way God made me. And I still think my garri tastes best.

With love, Doosuur.

Harmattan in Ibadan?

2006-12-05T11:58:00.000+01:00

Yet true religion with contentment is great wealth. After all, we didn't bring anything with us when we came into the world, and we certainly cannot carry anything with us when we die.

1 Timothy 6:6&7

No one needs to tell you that's it's been cold in Jos. I mean, when is it not cold? But Kano has been having it's share of subnormal temperatures since the onset of the harmattan. The harsh north-easterlies come bearing their dust and chill and one must cover up to sleep at night.

I'm billed to write an examination here in Lagos tomorrow and, coming from the North, I was dreading the heat of the West. We stopped over for the night in Ibadan and this morning, as we took off, the weather was reasonably mild. As we got onto the Lagos-Ibadan expressway one of the ubiquitous police checkpoints stopped our commercial car. A passenger remarked about the policeman, "Why is he sweating in this harmattan?" You call this Harmattan? I wondered. It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing. Granted, it was not boiling hot but it was certainly not cool enough to warrant such a designation. Needless to say, a couple of hours later I was in Lagos and sweating like a pig.

But then it occurred to me. This man was appreciating the weather for it's coolness and dryness, as opposed to the heat and humidity of Lagos. I on the other hand appreciated it for it's warmth and moistness, compared to the harsh and cold conditions of Jos and Kano. We had widely differing perspectives of the same conditions and because of this we both appreciated it.

You see, I think an important function of harsh conditions that we face in our lives is to help us to better appreciate the good things. How would we appreciate a safe journey if we'd never had an accident? How would we know to say thank you for a meal if we've never been hungry? How could we be grateful for a breath of fresh air if we'd never experienced the common cold? Yes, adversity increases our awareness of God's benevolence in our lives. It teaches us contentment with what we have.

So thank you Lord for the cool of Jos and the heat of Lagos. It makes harmattan in Ibadan that much more enjoyable.

With love, Doosuur.

The Sense of Smell

2006-12-05T11:55:00.000+01:00

Noah built an altar to GOD. He selected clean animals … and offered them… God smelled the sweet fragrance and thought to himself, "I'll never again curse the ground because of people."

Genesis 8:20&21

What's your favorite smell? I caught a whiff off some heady wood-smoke while waiting for some balongo and it sent me to seventh heaven. What cuts it for you? For some it's the aroma of fresh home-baked bread. Ummm! Or maybe it's Chanel No.5 (yeah, I'm old school). For a few, even the smell of gasoline gets them high. But it just got me thinking about the sense of smell. You know, most of the other senses - sight, touch and hearing are meant for self-preservation. They help us survive. But the senses of smell and taste, so far as we humans are concerned, are intended for something perhaps less noble. They're intended for pleasure. Imagine that! The thought brings a smile to my face. It's one of those nice gifts God has packaged for us to help us enjoy life. Just wake up and smell the roses and you're alright.

Now if you take a walk through God's regulations for the Israelites in the early days, you see that a lot of them had to do with burning sacrifices and incense. God was telling them that when he smelled their gift, He would appreciate it. In essence, He was teaching that young generation of believers that their principal responsibility was to seek His pleasure. He's spoken to us in much clearer terms in the New Covenant saying, quite clearly, "find out what pleases the Lord."

Now imagine that. God blessed us with the gift of pleasure for one reason more than simply our own enjoyment. He did it so that we could understand just how much He Himself desires enjoyment. And what does he want to enjoy? Us. You and Me. Is it any surprise that the Revelations 5 & 8 speaks about the prayers of the saints as bowls filled with incense? God's pleasure is in communion with me.

And that's what I learnt. So, next time you smell something great, don't keep it to yourself. Share the pleasure with your God.

With love, Doosuur.

NCCF Family Song

2006-12-04T16:17:00.000+01:00

Under his direction, the whole body is fitted together perfectly. As each part does its own special work, it helps the other parts grow, so that the whole body is healthy and growing and full of love.

Ephesians 4:16

Those of you who've served and were active with the Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship will probably have a sense of nostalgia when hearing or singing the Family Song. I simply love the song for it's sense of camaraderie and fellowship, both in the words and in the way it's sung. It's one of the things I'm going to miss most about NYSC. In a few lines it speaks about brotherly love, serving together and fellowship. One gets a sense of true koinonia (communion) in these words. Let me walk you through.

It's usually sung at the end of a meeting. Everyone stands in a circle, if it's a small enough group, and holds hands, as the song leader intones, "Do you love this Family?" We respond,

I love this Family of God.

So closely knitted into one.

They have taken me into their arms

And I'm so glad to be

A part of this great Family.

The warm welcome that this verse refers to is something anyone would love to be a part of. Even as a newcomer to God's house you're not just a guest. You're part of the family. Now that's something to be glad about.

Then there's a call and response verse with each line repeated:

Hand in hand together we will go (repeat)

Don't you know you mean so much to me (repeat)

I need you to build this Family (repeat)

This verse underscores the fact that the work of the House of God requires everyone to work together, for the common good. We're all important and have a role to play.

And then we sort of "break it down" reggae style:

NCCF is a big family, "Oh Yes!"

I love the way you walk,

I love the way you talk,

I love the way you smile,

I love the way you sing, etc.

Now, only in heaven will I possibly like everything about you. But this looks forward with great positivity. I can love you fully by God's grace.

Then we all lift our hands as we sing,

Higher and higher we will go, (repeat)

Don't you know you mean so much to me, (repeat)

I need you to build this Family. (repeat)

And then the energetic coda to round it all up is the famous song "We are heirs".

We are heirs of the Father,

We are joint-heirs with the Son,

We are children of the Kingdom,

We are Family, we are One.

What a great way to end it. I sing this song with all the energy I've got.

I hope I've got some of you to sing it with me. The irony of it all is that my favorite part of all NCCF programs is the very end.

Yes! I love this Family of God!

With love, Doosuur.

Mother Hen

2006-11-19T16:20:00.000+01:00

Can a mother forget the infant at her breast, walk away from the baby she bore? But even if mothers forget, I'd never forget you - never.

Isaiah 49:15

I was eating breakfast at our resident mai shai (local café) yesterday morning when mother hen came by with her seven little chicks in tow, chirping in harmony. She was squawking something furious about her kids not having had something to eat so I decided to share my food with them. I tossed her some crumbs and with each piece of bread that fell to the ground, she'd pick it up and place it in front of one of the chicks. She herself did not eat a thing. "Just how desperate is she to feed her young'uns?" I wondered. So I showed her a piece of bread in my hand but I didn't drop it. Well, she jumped right up and plucked the crumb out of my fingers and dutifully set it in front of the next chick.

I was momentarily distracted, and when I came to I discovered that they had stopped their noisy chirping. I looked to see what had become of the family but all I could see was mother hen in an awkward pose, halfway between a stand and a squat with little chick feet sticking out from underneath. She was gathering them under her wings to shelter then from the harmattan cold. Her posture seemed to be most uncomfortable - she could not stand fully since she wanted to keep them warm, but she could not squat either as her weight might crush them under. So she just half-stood there. The sight reminded me of one of those classic punishments from secondary school.

The care of a mother hen for her chicks is legendary. Even Jesus refers to it, exclaiming, "Jerusalem! Jerusalem! … How often I've ached to embrace your children, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you wouldn't let me." (Matthew 23:37) Such was his compassion for people. But he did more than just care. You see, God did not just risk His life to give us a good meal. He did more. He gave it up. He actually, really, died so that we might live. He goes the extra mile, everyday, just for our sake so we can live healthy, sleep soundly and eat bountifully. He's always on the lookout for us, even when we're as clueless to His means as those chicks were to the hassles of their mother.

Well, thank God for that!

With love, Doosuur.

Missing socks

2006-11-11T16:21:00.000+01:00

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

Hebrews 13:6

I recently visited home in Jos, from my "service" station. It just so happens that I forgot to take along a pair of socks. So I went into my old room, looking for what I might wear. I found seven socks. No, not seven pairs of socks. Seven individual stockings, all of them dark blue or black, but not a single one matched. Oh bother!

Reminds me of this joke I once read:

Q: What does it mean when all your socks match?

A: You've started losing them in pairs!

I even hear that some clothing companies have started making socks in threes so that when (not if) you lose one you'll still come up with a pair.

Thinking about this, I considered that if I and God were a sock and it's mate, it's no wonder that one of us always gets missing. And it's not Him. Do you notice how in Scripture, particularly in the Old Testament, the prophets always rebuked the Israelites, telling them to "go back", "return", "seek the Lord while He may be found". Yes, this is the time when He'll always be found. He says in Hebrews, "never will I leave you, never will I forsake you."

But on our part, it's so easy for us to desert Him. When we refuse to "abide", going our own way, doing our own thing, making the wrong decisions and willfully sinning. Problems we all encounter from one time to the other.

Just a thought guys, make some sense?

Love you all.

Preparing for the prince

2006-11-03T16:22:00.000+01:00

That's what's happening here in Takai. They're preparing for the prince. Not the Prince of Peace. But the one person on earth who's got a really strong hold on that title. And I'm not talking about The Artist formerly known as Prince either. No. I'm talking about Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales and heir to the British Throne.

We received a delegation a couple of days ago with the news. The prince is coming.

Well, in truth, I do not believe he's really going to come but all the hullabaloo that has followed this announcement is worth taking pause to comment on. Everywhere has been agog with activity. Old walls being repainted, ceiling fans changed, lights refitted, even the gate gets a makeover. Nothing strange here, after all, in this society "eye-service" is always key to progress.

Reminds me of the whitewashed walls Jesus talked about in the gospels. A lot of polishing and shining to hide the dirt that lies beneath.

But what strikes me most about this whole prepping experience is the significance that lies in that statement: "preparing for the prince". I'll tell you, it's a task worth doing, for the right Prince anyway. How much, I wonder am I doing in getting ready for the return of my Lord? Unfortunately for me, he will see through every whitewashed wall and every hastily-fitted gate, right down to what lies beneath. My preparation cannot be done in a hurry. It must be well considered, deliberate and sustainable. Every work we do, the Bible says, will be shown for what it's worth - whether good or bad. The fire will bring it to light.

So, like Jesus said, let us work while it is day. Night is coming when no-one can work.

Pesky Rodents

2006-10-11T16:23:00.000+01:00

I hate rats. Lizards I can barely stand and cockroaches I detest. But rats, oh how I hate them. They're simply evil. Sometimes I think God must have created them after the Fall of Man as part of his punishment. There's no other apparent reason for their existence. It would seem their only job description is "destroy". Every other thing in creation seems to have a purpose: spiders control insects, bees pollinate flowers, even mosquitoes feed the fish. But rats!!! they seem to have never done a thing to contribute to the good of man.

I have a pet rat in my room that I've been trying to exterminate for a couple of weeks now. The problem is I have never actually seen it. Yeah I hear it, gnawing at wood while I'm trying to get some sleep. I've seen it's droppings just about everywhere. It shares the garri in my closet. And today I discovered to my dismay that it has chewed through my favorite wool sweater.

As I thought about this most annoying of creatures, I could hardly find anything to compare it to for it's most destructive power while remaining totally out of view. Hardly anything, that is, aside from sin. Yes I believe sin is just like these rats; so immensely destructive. It does it's work in the secret but the consequences are thrust out in the open like rat droppings. It eats away at what is best in our lives and has a knack for targeting what we've worked for years to achieve. It gives birth to other little sins if we are not diligent enough to root it out early enough.

It's so easy to see why Jesus considered it so important to teach his disciples to pray "deliver us from evil". And while you're at it Lord, deliver us from rats.

With love,

Doosuur

Why did the cow cross the road?

2006-08-23T16:23:00.000+01:00

I was driving from Kano to Takai yesterday when I was stopped in my tracks by a trio of cows crossing the road. They seemed unperturbed as they lumbered across the road. They had no regard for this contraption of metal and rubber hurtling toward them at 100kph. They just cast me a disdainful glance and continued their leisurely stroll across as if they had not a care in the world! What interested me more was that they crossed diagonally, taking the longer route across.

Why do they always do that? Why don't they care? Is it because they're stupid? Yes, I think so. They're just plain stupid. But then, why? As I thought about it a bit more I came to understand that they're stupid to me because they think differently from they way I would think. To them my car is nothing more than something to look at. The road is nothing more than something to walk on. Their paradigm consists in grass and more grass and if there's more to be had across the road, well that's where they're heading. Quite simply, they have a different way of looking at things.

It reminds me of the scripture that says "do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2). The pattern of this world has to do with the world's way of looking at things. God calls us to a paradigm shift - to look at things differently.

Have you ever wondered why Jesus says of children, "the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these"? I guess it's because they do not think as adults do. They trust implicitly regardless of all apparent evidence to the contrary. They view things differently. Jesus said, "unless you become like little children, you cannot inherit the kingdom of God."

The way of thinking that we're called to as Christians is to think Christ, Christ and more Christ. So we can be forgiven if our concept of pleasure lies not in immorality but in worship. If we're successful not in terms of wealth but in terms of souls. If we're great only when we serve. It's a whole new system of thinking; a new perspective on life.

No wonder they call us stupid. That's what you called the cow.

Love you all.

Doosuur

Of silk robes and gold bracelets

2006-08-16T16:24:00.000+01:00

It started with a trivial discussion about the war in southern Lebanon between Israel and Hezbollah but soon turned into something else. My (sort of) Christian roommate was gisting (more like arguing) with my Muslim colleague when I came into the room last night. I came late to the exchange but what I caught at that time went something like this:

colleague: Muslims are not supposed to wear silk

roommate: why not?

colleague: because that's what we'll wear in paradise. and Muslim men are not supposed to wear gold bracelets either.

It was all I could do to hide the smirk on my face. I had to leave the room then - to have myself a good laugh at the absurdity of it! "Silk in paradise", yeah right. But then I caught myself. It was hardly a joke. My Muslim friend is misguided through what may be little fault of his. He's been raised up to believe what he believes and he's going full speed in the wrong direction.

Later on, after I had joined in their conversation, several other things became apparent. I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of this young man's mouth.

"Bin Laden's a hero"

"America's the enemy"

"I'd rather live in Afghanistan under the Taliban than in present day Nigeria"

my roommate challenged him with the question, "would you give your money to fund Al Qaeda?"

"Of course" was his reply. "Al Qaeda, Hamas and Hezbollah are resistance movements and not terrorist organizations like the West chooses to call them."

Well, as you can imagine, the debate went on and on.

Really the details are not necessary. It was just such an eye opener for me. There really is an evil called Islam and it's right next to you (don't look now). There is so much deception in the form of this religion in particular that it's hard to believe.

Should our response to them be one of contempt? I think not. Look at what Jesus said: "Father, forgive them. They do not know what they're doing." Reminds me of that verse: "The God of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers..." Jesus' response to such people around him would have been one of accommodation more than just tolerance, of caring rather than indifference.

I think the onus is on us to reach out positively to those around us who are being deceived with love and care. And words.

Our debate yesterday reminded me of "Springboards" that we had learnt about in discipleship class several years back. Do you remember Nguavese? Grace? Springboards are those parts of conversations we have with non-believers that provide opportunity to redirect thought and share the Gospel. There are a plethora of springboards we come across in everyday conversation.

Like silk robes and gold bracelets.

Love you all.

Doosuur

Reflections on Sickness

2006-08-12T16:24:00.000+01:00

"No way, it's my turn to get sick". That was my response to one of my two close friends here in Takai, Kano state when he told me he wasn't feeling too well. You see, the both of them have been sick so often since we got here that I've lost count. Well I needed a little pampering too.

"The day you get sick ehn..." he retorted.

Then I touched the ground with the tip of my finger, touched it to my tongue and lifted it to high heaven in an "I swear" gesture. "Until January when we leave here, I swear I will never be sick". It was a foolish gesture I remembered from primary/secondary school days but I quickly followed it up with a prayer in my heart, "Lord, protect me from illness. Let me not be sick till NYSC is over."

That was last night.

At about 2 a.m. this morning, barely six hours after we had our little conversation, I woke up for what I thought was a routine nighttime sleep break (if you get what I mean) but as I got back into bed I noticed that I was feeling more than a little cold (that's saying a lot for Kano). My joints were aching a bit and I didn't feel altogether. I began tossing and turning and it was all I could do to get back to sleep. By morning my temperature was up and my abdomen was churning, threatening to expel it's contents the wrong way and I had one bout of ... (think I should stop there). I tiptoed out of the room, not wanting my roommate to realize that I was indeed sick, and went to get some Fansidar. And guess what. Yup. I puked! Yuk!! Okay Doosuur, believe it or not, you just asked God not to get sick and see what you get in return.

Needless to say, my friends had a good laugh.

Well, I still don't understand it. Part of me suggests that when I swore not to get sick, I was being proud and seeking my own honor as an "insider" in God's affairs, rather than His own honor. Another part of me says I should not have made that swearing gesture. Yet another voice in my head says it's God's way of poking fun at me: "so you think you can push me around huh?"

Well, I don't know. This email is more about questions than answers. At the end of the day though, my lessons are:

Let your yes be yes and your no be no.

It's God's body and God's show and He can do pretty much what He pleases

And yes, I'm getting better, Glory to God.

Love you all.

Doosuur

A Visit

2006-07-06T16:25:00.000+01:00

I was in the theater this morning assisting while our resident surgeon tore open a woman's innards to deliver her lifeless baby when there was a knock on the door.

"Who's that?!" the surgeon shouted with more than a little exasperation in his voice (the procedure was quite difficult).

"Dr. Malu" came the answer, in an all too familiar voice.

I dropped everything and ran to the door like a four-year old, screaming "Daddy!!!" and hugged him, bloody coveralls and all. I was so excited! Pops had come to

pay me a surprise visit in my village in Takai, Kano where I'm serving.

It was a short visit but the 30 or so minutes of it were more than worthwhile. I showed him around the grounds of the hospital while we discussed everything from university politics to world cup semifinals. It was just great.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, as I watched him drive off I remembered the last chorus of that song by Whitney Houston, "You Were Loved"

You were loved by someone, touched by someone,

Held by someone, meant something to someone,

Loved somebody,

Touched somebody's heart along the way,

You can look back and say

You did okay -

You were loved

Well folks, I have no doubt about it, I'm doing quite okay to have such a dad who'd cover the miles from Abuja to a remote part of Kano to spend 30 minutes with his son. I just had to appreciate him and my God.

And I'm still learning a whole lot from him - showing love.

Here's to the world's greatest dad!!!

And for you, in the words of the Diva,

So remember to tell that special one

You are loved.

With love, Doosuur.

A Conversation

2006-06-28T16:26:00.000+01:00

Well done, my good and faithful servant…
Matthew 25:21
"Are you a Christian?"
"Yes. Why?"
"You're so... simple. Not like us."
So ended my conversation yesterday morning with a Muslim police officer who had come to me for a coroner's report. Initially when I saw him that morning, I had been tempted to treat him haughtily and with an air of indifference. After all, I'm been paid a paltry sum to do this penance called "national service" and no-one seems to appreciate it. Well, I didn't. I was cordial as I could reasonably be. Thank God good sense won over. I'm not sure if the policeman really meant to call me simple (expression's not the Hausa man's strong suit). But the fact is, I made an impression.

I thought it may be encouraging to the lot of you who from time to time feel unappreciated and perhaps useless. Whether at work or school, just remember, people are always watching. And so is God.
With love, Doosuur.

Reflections on a Rib

2006-05-24T11:45:00.000+01:00

I think I cracked a rib. At least that's what the pain tells me. And I did it running away from a spider (hey guys, I thought it was a scorpion). Oh, the pain!

Two things I wondered about. First, I never knew trunk muscles could be that strong. My abdominal muscles forcibly contracted in an attempt to get me up from bed, pulling strongly on that poor rib. Something had to give (and it's not like I gym or anything). The wonder of God's creation called the body!

But it was the pain that most caught my attention. The most mundane tasks became an ordeal. I slept fitfully that night. Eating, drinking, coughing, walking, even breathing became so much more difficult. I couldn't do anything without thinking about that rib. Because it was hurting.

When Jesus compares the Church to the body he draws several parallels, so I feel at liberty to seek some of my own. I wonder how much the attention of the Church is taken up by the hurting of it's members. If you've ever injured a toe or had a bad tooth, you'll know what I'm talking about. You just can't get your mind off that hurting part. What about us? Which member of Christ's body is hurting next to you? Someone lose his father? Someone had money stolen at gunpoint? Someone fail an exam? All too common hurts around us everyday.

I think Christ's desire is that I show them something of the concern I have for my blasted cracked rib.

With love, Doosuur