REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE LIKE THAT

When I visited Adanna in their residence in the Zik district some years ago, she offered me some soda to drink and gesture for me to sit down on the sofa. Her parents were sitting across a metal conference table without talking to each other. I walked up to them and greeted them. They looked and returned the greeting with nods, indicating they were aware of my presence.

“For five years and three months, my parents had not been in good terms with each other.” Adanna said.

“Looking at my face, you can observe that I have come to reconcile two of you, so, please do let me know the problem, I can be of help to you.” I said.

Her mother did not respond at once, but after looking down at me, she said, “the problem is not from me, the problem is from his side.”

I told her to play the blame game later, just look for solutions. I know that some family problems are secretive. Adanna had already told me some of the problems before my advent. I cannot tell them how or what their family should be, but I can only advise them to have a regular time together.

As I was talking, I saw around the room their old pictures. I asked why they only hung pictures of them when they were young and I never saw them as old. I picked one of them (this one I posted) and then asked the man, “Can you tell the good memories of this picture?”

We all sat down, he began to tell us something that happened when they got married newly.

“This is a part of my personal and cherished love story, every love story is unique and beautiful in its own way and this was the time when love was the only thing we knew.” he said.

As he continued telling his story, I could see the tears welling up in his eyes. Not really appreciated by me and Adanna but by his wife. He was reflecting on those days he wrote love messages to her wife (then a girlfriend). On those days they called each other sweetheart. Those days they behaved like children to each other.

At the end of his story, I said to them.

ALWAYS REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE LIKE THAT.

Old couples can learn from this. Always remember those love memories, don’t remember the faults. The fault will always come, but only love can override every other weak points.

Always remember to tell each other, “I LOVE YOU” even one is at fault.

IZUNWAONU

Invitation! Invitation!! Invitation!!!

It is all about love.

It all began on Sunday, October 21, her birthday, and it became the most beautiful day in my life. After all, this was what she'd been working toward all last night, to make herself happy on her birthday.  

When we got upstairs, everybody gathered around the table, and there was no seat meant for the King and Queen; the parents of the birthday celebrant. The Queen's regalia should have been laid on the table before her Majesty at the King's left hand but this was never done, maybe it was because of their daughter’s birthday. 

There must have been nearly a hundred people present, and most of them were poor people from other kingdoms who had come to utilize the vast resources in King’s palace. No one carried the regalia of the king and queen, and the King acted as a servant at the great birthday banquet, but regardless of that he had always been doing that.

In fact, I was somewhat shocked at the way the king listened to the poor and served them. In our society today, leaders have opted for power just to be served, but this king, cares for serving his people.

The gospel reading of today made it explicit that, “whoever would be great among you, must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you, must be slave of all.” 

Jesus is a pure example of this, in Phil 2:6, though he was in the of God, Jesus did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped. He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in likeness of men. 

Hence, this is an invitation to Love “Service”.

This is an invitation to “Serve one another”

I hereby invite everyone to this call for service. It is our duty as leaders to first be servants. God calls every one of us to a positions of leadership in our homes, communities, churches, and ultimately the world.

Happy SUNDAY.

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Have God’s Choicest Blessing.

Love, not Sex; By Onuh Justus Izuchukwu

“I love you. Good bye...” "I love you, too." I responded.

I ended the call and walked out of my room, leaving my cup of tea unfinished.  Walking towards Kate, I was quietly absorbing my mother's words, “I love you.” Mom would always tell me, "I love you." Does she love me the way some girls on the campus want me to love them? Does she know I am her son? Does love really mean having sex? Or is something wrong somewhere? These were some bothering questions that confronted my innocent mind and made me wonder why she had to use those affectionate words, common among the campus guys and babes. However, I finally understood what she really meant. 

I steeped ahead, following Kate up to some distances. But, she didn’t look back. “Hello Kate,” I called from behind her. She turned around, giving an adorable look that she was very near.

A minute after I had entered Kate’s room, I knew something was wrong. She got up from her bed, walked around his room in confusion, went to the door, and then, locked it. Not suspecting anything, I searched around the room but there was neither chair nor table. Even after I did not talk to her, she kept staring at the ceiling as though she was counting the block shapes made from the knitting of the ceiling roof. I sat next to her on the same bed she was sitting and instantly looked at her, with eyes that had kept the light of the coloring room on which we had just been fixed. Then, abruptly, in a low tone, turning round to ask her an unexpected question,

“What do you want to do?”

Silence was her answer as she stood folding her arms tightly across her chest. I grabbed her and jerked her up against the ground and each time I did it, I felt an electric current zip through my system. My eyes mingled with hers, and I wiggled my eyebrows at her mischievously.

 “Haven't I told you often enough that I know everything in your mind?”

She rolled her eyes, cupped her face, and then, threw her arms over her chest again as though she wanted to hug herself.

“Oh, the pretense of men! I don't know,” she said.

“You'll answer my question or else...”  I threatened.

My threat turned her knees to jelly, but she refused to let me see her fear. She turned her head to absently glance toward the door. She was staring as though her heart and lungs had stopped functioning. She was halfway into her second room before she noticed she was standing by the bookshelves. She had many books but none was related to the course she was studying. “Seven Ways to Make a Guy Crazy, Sex at Dawn,” were lying side by side, an indication that one might have ransacked for a book in search for the object of the mistaken love. She stopped as though she wanted to collect a book, weakened for an instant, almost responding to the firm authority in my voice and said,

“What did you tell me in the lecture hall?”

I stood slowly; my heart pounding in my chest, and the weight, so heavy like the breast of a lactating mother. There was a minute silence wherein I probed into my mind like a surgeon with his scalpel. And yet, I did not remember what I told her during lectures.

She put her hands on her hips and took a few deep breaths, shook his head slowly and went back to sit on her bed.

 "Hey! What's up?" I asked.

 "Nothing. Just that you told me that you love me.” Then she looked down at the ground, a little sideways, and I noticed a small black frown on her brows.

"Would you mind running to me?" I said.

Before I could catch her, she was already running back towards me, and she jumped into my arms. Even when I was returning her kiss, I felt uneasy, as if none of it was real. I felt that I had stumbled into this dream by chance, and here I was now, promising to marry this woman at the age of eighteen.

“That’s so beautiful! All the rehearsing I had done leading up till now flew out the window when you asked me infuriating questions. I thought it was love you meant in the class but your question made me think about other things,” she said.

Think more profoundly, weigh the matter well in your minds, and you will perceive that “I love you” has nothing to do with sex and is not accompanied by sex. Don't confuse sex with love like a lot of people do these days.

As I spoke, tears began to stream down her face – and I knew she hated it, because it made her lipstick fade. I grew up in a Christian home; my parents were faithful in their service to God. But I never heard my parents tell me that “I love you” is the same thing as sex. In their own way, they showed me what “love” was, but it seems opposite of what I see here in the University.

“Almost every man that had told me, ‘I love you’ meant sex. How then do you control your sexual urge if love is not sex?” She asked looking faintly annoyed. She shook her head and looked at her watch. I did not seem to notice her annoyance. She tossed at me, trying to shift from the weight of my dark eyes boring into her face. I thought that her expression was closed down but I knew I wouldn't divulge the question.

“How can one control his sexual urge in a world that everything is all about sex? Advertisement, dressing codes and even languages now trigger sex,” she said.

“Your sex drive can be controlled by directing your thoughts to more acceptable things. If women could have penile erection, I would have advised, humorously and rhythmically, ‘let your erection not detect your life’s direction’. These books you have in your shelf do not help the matter. Wrong is wrong no matter who is doing it. You can tell someone ‘I love you’ without meaning sex.” I responded.

Kate laughed aloud, but her face had a wild, despairing expression, and her hands clasped the bed more firmly. I thought I had made it clear but, by the time I stopped, she was breathing heavily and she could barely control the need to throw herself into my arms. Eventually the spasms of my forehead became mere twitches, and slowly my body relaxed fully and became still. When I finally crept out of her room at the fear of her reaction, we sat at the corridor to discuss.

“I do not understand your holy, pious words. What do you mean? What do you wish to say?" She asked.

Sex is part of God's design, but it is designed for married couples. Love is an expression of the heart. Love is pure and sacrificial; a gift that's freely offered without conditions or concern for oneself.

Sex is not particularly an easy subject to talk about, especially from a Christian point of view, yet the act of it is so widely embraced in our culture. It's not an easy subject to discuss, especially when someone starts to advise you on what you will or will not get from it. “To have sex, make love, to sleep with” is supposed to be an expression of love, shared by a husband and a wife. If you can accept the cold hard truth, better.

“What is God's purpose for sex then?”  She asked

Procreation, as in Genesis 1:26-30 and to become one flesh as in Genesis 2:18-25. In short, God intended sex to be an intimate expression of love between husband and wife, an expression that bonds them together in unity. Make no mistake, God reserves sexual intimacy for marriage.

“But people say that if you love a guy, you would show it by having sex.”

Anyone who tries to pressurize you into having sex by saying, 'if you truly care you would not say no', or 'if you loved me you would show it by having sex', is not really looking out for you. If you feel that you should have sex because you are afraid of losing that person, then maybe you should jettison that person. “Love” is a word that is not sufficient in itself; we use this word too much and to express any emotion: from sex to friendship, or even to “Loving the taste of pizza.” The problem with a word that means so many things is that soon it means nothing at all. It becomes an almost useless expression, such as, “I love you,” so that we ask, “How do you love me, as a friend, as a lover, or as a husband or wife?

She must have been trying to change the subject and still seemed highly amused, although she had stopped laughing and was listening intently.

“Do you accept the explanation?' I asked seriously.

I figured that then I threw her an apologetic look back, even though I was not exactly sure what she was thinking about…

Open Letter to Jenifer on Valentine Day

I am always glad to have tidings from the kind, faithful friend of my youth whose messages of love made my heart yearn to see her again and again.

My hands were shaking as I opened your letter yesterday at the University Stadium. Before I even read it, I was in tears because I could remember how your voice was softer and seemed  to be shrinking when I first met you in my first year at University of Nigeria Nsukka.

 Was that on Valentine day? “Yes, It was.

Honestly, that was the first time I saw hurt in your eyes. I do not know why I am writing this to you, because I just met you many years ago. You know,  the more you see someone the more you know more things about him.

I expected your letter before yesterday but you just surprised me, you seemed frazzled and a little irritated when you handed the letter to me.

 What do you mean when you say you love me? What do you mean by these your words?

"I never loved anyone but you, never with that love which you alone merit, which is yours alone, which has always been in the depths of my heart, and will be there as long as I live".

That secret colloquy I think had become a dark night, and the chamber, lighted only by the feeble glimmer of a lamp, in such a state of comparative gloom which would have been a reminder to the young people at any time to provide themselves with more light, but they did not think so. The young people have refused to understand the real meaning of Love. There is an abysmal difference between love and sex. But now they use them interchangeably.  

Let me ask you again... what do you mean when you say you love me?

If you say you love me, can you die for me? Do you love me because of what you will get from me. Just like many women would do, when they want something from you, you become their sweetheart, their honey, and everything... Who is fooling who?.

Can you defined the object of love when you say you love me? Is your object of Love the pleasure? Is it the intrinsic goodness or utility?

When almost every bloom of Spring had fallen, and only a few, withered and pale, clung to the parent stem, a leaf exclaimed to its companions: “how feeble and useless are these blossoms, though they have enjoyed but now they no longer. If she is gentle and kind to everyman; she never says “No, I won't” or “No, get out,” and never disagree with men. She keeps her clothes neat and clean, and always have quarrel with her father and mother, and not even interested in God.

I shout with Eliakim Littell, that Human hearts beat now as they did then, and are alike swayed by doubts, and fears, and hopes, with LOVE reigning above all. Thou, ' YOUTH of modern days, sighing in vain for some cold-hearted damsel; thou, dreaming maiden, who worshippest one above all, calling this devotion, respect, admiration—anything but love; and thou, calm philosopher, who hast suffered and ... He was not like those moody, sentimental lovers, always sighing and pining; still less was he addicted to those...

 Let me tell you the truth, if you say you love me... Let your object of your love be intrinsic goodness not pleasure or utility. Good people love each other because of what they are in themselves. They do not use humanity in others as a means to another thing rather an end. Friends are those who wish and do good for each other. Friends are those who grieve and rejoice with another.

Since friendship lies more in loving says Aristotle, it will seem that the virtue of friendship is to love.

And lastly, let your Love be sacrificial.  As in John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

Remember that in 1 John 4:8 God is Love, if God is Love then if I tell you that I love you, then you can substitute God with Love. In other words, I God You. Any love that has no connection with God is not a perfect Love. I LOVE YOU. Happy Valentine Day and as today marks the beginning of the Lenten period (Ash Wednesday) I wish you a wonderful Lantern period  By Onuh Justus Izuchukwu