A reply to an (ex) friend: Do not be the Judge and the Jury!

He was spitting fireworks, somewhere behind his keyboard/keypad, ohh, he was deeply outraged, he couldn't bottle it any longer, these anti-Christs had to be put in their rightful places, the name of King Jesus had to be fiercely guarded even if it meant stumbling on others feelings to achieve that, I wonder what his Christ’s reaction would have been to that, thinking of it longer the way I have, may be Gandhi could have quipped “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ” Doesn't your Christ say in Mathews 7:1 Judge not, that you be not judged? Ohh yee people of little grasp, have you forgotten Your Jesus’ teaching of not removing your brothers’ speck when a log covers yours? Or have you forgotten that the same measure of ferocity, of condemnation will be spelled out against you? I imagined Gandhi continuing then walking away in his loose Khadi, his stick leading the way wondering…

UNFOLLOW/BLOCK ME NOW BEFORE THINGS GET UGLY FOR YOU! Why wait to unfriend/block me when I explain why Islam and Roman Catholism (sic) are demonic schemes to kill Christianity? He had warned on his facebook post in his misdirected authoritative demeanor, his armor of combat was on, his Jesus had to be protected, and freedom of expression had to be taken to the next level. I have no problem with whichever idols, virgins, saints and the gods Romans and their worldwide sympathizers - a word he uses so frequently, could it be that its meaning alludes him? - decide to worship as long as they do not drag Jesus into their religion! He had jibed when one of his ‘followers’ sarcastically told him that Catholics will tear him apart for mentioning the virgin of Guadalupe… ohh he was in his element, his hands were itching to type more, tell them off only the fire wasn't stroked hard enough and like a dog not provoked, he was unable to attack, only weak barks could be heard until nothing more but a pity growl, ohh, how disappointed he must have been!

I immensely respect and I mean RESPECT other people’s religions/denominations and religious views even if they were different and/or contradict mine (ok let’s just say Jehova Wanyonyi’s case is a bit stretched J) but still I respect his followers’ views, am sure something must have informed their belief. To people who ask, care to listen and genuinely want to know, I create time to explain some of the seemly troubling things/traditions that they see Catholics do/practice, I know to an outsider they may not fully understand and even grasp the meaning which is perfectly understandable however one thing that I do not take kindly is some ignorant soul approaching me with holier than thou attitude, rubbishing my beliefs, the issues that I hold dear and closest to my heart and try to prove to me how their beliefs are the best! And like Abdulmote, a Jukwaa member puts it:

Religious belief is one of those phenomenon founded on one's sanctimonious respect for the bearers preference of the same. Without going into debate about which one is better or otherwise, it is nevertheless an identity which others must give due respect and tolerance of its contents, irrespective of what one may think of the same, even if the consequences of doing otherwise may result in a violent backlash or not. In my humble opinion, religious beliefs should qualify for exclusion, where the so called freedom of expression may warrant unlimited and boundless criticism upon any subject, without taking into consideration the hurt that may result from such expressions. And whilst I do respect your freedom of expression, he continues, I may end up feeling unimaginably offended, if you were to insult my sanctified beliefs without due consideration of how I may feel about what I may perceive as malicious and disrespectful criticism of my religious beliefs.

Bear in mind that any belief which has significant influence upon one's life, can also have what I would describe as 'conditioning influence', which kind of goes beyond the 'ordinary' understanding or perception that may be common to the non-believers. You may want to say that it creates 'passion', which most of the times cannot be explained by simple logic! Religious belief is one of them, only that it can be extremely influential so as to occupy a sanctified position to the bearer's mind hence the passion that stems out of it.

It’s therefore of utmost importance for us to exercise empathy, Empathy is a level of understanding upon others' emotions, only attainable through one's imagination and appropriate consideration, paid specifically to the bearer's given circumstances and assumed through the bearer's given perception. 

In the absence of such approach, it is easy to see how one may lack the assumed understanding, brought forth by those who may have put significant and commendable effort towards exercising the relevant empathy.

Empathy promotes understanding, compassion, harmony and everything positive, which supports the harmonious existence of humanity as may be desirable to all.

I wish you an empathetic holiday season my brethren!

To the real heroes of our time- Parents

“Son please jump, I swear I will catch you” The father pleaded with the son for the umpteenth time, the fire was now fiercely raging, only the balcony where the son stood had not been completely engulfed. The fire had broken out in the wee hours of the night, the son was not in his room when it occurred, as it turned out, he went playing his favorite game up in the ceiling so as not to be found, unknown to his parents that he was up there, they hurriedly rushed downstairs thinking he was too scared of the inferno and so had come down.

“Dad, I am too scared, I can’t jump, just come for me” The kid, who came out of his hiding place when the fire was already too advanced and therefore unable to join his parents downstairs pleaded with the Dad.

“OK son, he replied, hang in there I will come for you”, the father rushed inside the house that was now falling into pieces, he endured the burns and reached the son just in time to rescue him. “There, go now….go take care of your mummy” he lovingly told the son as he dropped him down, he was not so lucky himself- he succumbed to the burns just after the selfless gesture.

“Daddy please come back” the son would plead later on realizing that the father was motionless and in flames. “I swear I will come back and jump this time round, just come back” but the father was no more, he risked his life to save his sons’……he died a hero.

In line with today’s holiday theme, I want to remember the heroes of our time, the living heroes, the co-creators with God- the PARENTS.

I love sitting at a particular spot whenever I go to church, it’s strategic because it’s not only the last row after the choirs’ seats but it gives a perfect view of the alter and a full view of the Eucharist during consecration, I love the view, I love the feeling that comes with it but there is a man, of all the times I have been sitting there, he is always a round, just a seat in front of me with these two lovely kids about 5 and 3; a son and a daughter, seeing them together gives you this warm feeling, their bond is great, enviable, uplifting and above all inspiring. The kids never want to go and sit with their mum- I don’t know why- but they always insist to sit with their dad. From their interaction you can see that he means the world to his kids- THE WORLD. The way they touch him, the way they fight for his attention, to be carried by him, the way he looks at them ohh, makes you wanna be a parent- this man is a hero in the eyes of his kids and in my eyes too- real hero.

Once my sister called me to go and watch over her kids, the hubby and herself were to travel upcountry, one of the kids was 3 years old sweet lil gal, I never knew that kids had a sense of time until then. I think she kinda mastered when her parents would come home, when it hit 6 pm, she went and sat by the window, you could see the longing in her eyes, her deep longing to see her parents, she was expecting them back any minute and she wouldn’t let me carry her, she painfully kept suckling her lil middle and index fingers with her eyes and ears completely tuned to the gate, those were her only consolation until she fell asleep. But a disturbing thought occurred to me that day, what if they never came back, would I be able to withstand her pain? In this lil gals’ eyes, her heroes were out there somewhere, she knew that, she felt that- her parents were her heroes.

Martina McBride captures this heavenly feeling when she sings in her “In my daughter’s eyes”:

In my daughters’ eyes,

I am a hero,

I am strong and wise,
And I know no fear……..

…she continues…

And when she wraps her hand

Around my finger,

How it puts a smile in my heart,

Everything becomes a little clearer,

I realize what life is all about,

It’s hanging on when your heart has

Had enough,

It’s giving more when you feel like

Giving up,

I’ve seen the light,

It’s in my daughter’s eyes…….

I am inclined to believe that there is this -for lack of better word -I will call it transfiguration when one becomes a parent, I say this because of the changes I have seen with my pals who have crossed this line, those who are very blessed to be given this respectable title- Parent. There is something immeasurable, unquantifiable, unfathomable feeling that comes with being a parent, I think it’s something to do with the knowledge that someone fully depends on you, that your being impacts fully on someone else’s’ existence and the fact that someone believes, trusts and loves you unreservedly- I don’t know but I think so. And so in some of my chit chats with my pals, whenever someone says I think I am ready to be a parent, I give them a casual but loaded reply that go for it if you are ready to be blown away by the tremendous  parenthood feeling because I tend to equally think that if you are not ready to handle the feeling, then you might find it to be too much, and therefore if you are ready to be a hero- knowing full well the repercussions, consequences, responsibilities and expectations of becoming a hero, then my dearest, all the best!

There is this image that caught my attention sometime back during the Tana clashes, it was an image of a lil gal wiping her mamma’s tears, ohh what a feeling it brought- those lil fingers, there is a way they reassure completely and I think that’s why this Vaseline advert with a lil gal being told a story by her mamma, the way she touches her mamma’s nose, the way she moves her lil fingers across, hmmm…..that advert will always be the best in my world.

So to all the parents outside there, you are the real heroes of our times.

                                 Happy MASHUJAS’ DAY.

May God greatly guide you in this tremendous and respectable journey

Are you proud of whom you have become?

With several local TV stations fighting to outdo each other to remain the most preferred TV station for the majority, we have seen several soap operas being aired on almost every station, majority being Philippines and Mexican movies. But there is one that I religiously follow and which got me thinking today, it`s called “SOY TU DUENA” whose main protagonist is a once charming, caring and loving woman called Valentine Villalba but whom pain and betrayal has turned into an insensitive, rude and arrogant person whom the whole village now refers to as a “viper” or “a poisonous snake”, frankly she is not proud of the person she has become, this you can notice from the small humane acts that she tries to do albeit secretively.

Several incidences got me thinking today and prompted me to ask myself this question: “Am I proud of whom I have become?”

I received a rather uncomfortable e-mail attachment from one of my pals today; the subject of the mail was “are you ready to meet your maker?”-  I don’t need to beat around the bush with this; my answer is a big “NO”, but then why??

If you were to ask me that question several years ago when I was in high school, my answer would have been a lot different, it would have been an emphatic “YES”, but not anymore, so what is the reason behind this major flip flop? Just like Chinua Achebe, I asked myself this question? “When and where did the rain start beating me”?

Incidentally I met my former high school principle, and for some weird reasons I felt guilty, guilty because somehow I know I have changed, I have changed from the sweet girl she helped nurture to someone who is slowly turning into “Valentine Villalba” and even if she dint notice it, I know because conscience is what hurts when everything else feels so good, and as Albert Camus puts it; “guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession” and I bet that`s the road I should take ASAP- CONFESS.

And as Socrates aptly puts it “The unexamined life is not worth living”, let’s take an hour off our busy schedule and ask ourselves these questions:

•  Are you proud of the person you have become (Holistically)?
• If not, where did the rain start beating you?
• And what can you do to change it?

Happy Easter!