The Lord sent me on an errand. I said: “I go, Sir,” but did not go.
He asked me to go out of town to talk to an old man about Christ. I can
never say “no” to the Lord, but I dragged and dragged my feet about it. I
debated indefinitely what to tell him. I had known the man all my life
and felt it would be presumptuous of me to talk to him. I dilly-dallied
until I was shocked to hear he was seriously ill and in hospital. Then I
became afraid. What if he died?
Cost of disobedience
The Lord said to Ezekiel: “When I say to the wicked, ‘You shall surely
die,’ and you give him no warning, nor speak to warn the wicked from his
wicked way, to save his life, that same wicked man shall die in his
iniquity; but his blood I will require at your hand.” (Ezekiel 3:18).
To be frank, I did not remember this scripture at the time. But I
rationalised that God must have known about my reticence beforehand and
would have sent a more receptive person to the old man as a backup. I
kept on this debate until the man died without my talking to him about
the kingdom of God. When he died, I knew I was in trouble. Even now, I
am con-vinced he never repent-ed. I became so over-whelmed that such
enormous responsibility was laid on my weak shoulders.
I then realised I could not fathom the depth of the love of Christ.
The good shepherd comes down from heaven in search of one lost sheep. He
searches night and day over the hills and the valleys and does not stop
until he is found. The good shepherd gives his life for the sheep. Why
was it so difficult for me to be like him?
Covenant with death
The more the details emerged about the death of the old man, the more
grievous my disobe-dience became. I was informed he had a covenant with
death. There was apparently a ring on his finger that was a
“death-repellent.”
As a result, he apparent-ly spent months alive but in a coma.
Finally, his son came to see him and he removed the ring from his
finger. When he did, the man reportedly died immediately with a snarl on
his face.
I cannot vouch for the veracity of this account, but I know for a
fact that people actually make covenants with death. As a matter of
fact, God talks reprovingly of this in the scriptures. (Isaiah 28:
15-18). But why would anyone make a covenant with death? It only shows
complete lack of wisdom because death can never guarantee life.
There is a popular folktale of the scorpion and the tortoise. The
scorpion begs the tor-toise to carry him on his back across the river.
“Are you nuts?” exclaim-ed the tortoise. “If I do that you will sting me
while I’m swimming across and I will drown.” “My dear tortoise,”
exclaimed the scorpion. “Why would I do such a stupid thing? If I sting
you and you drown, I will drown with you. Now what would be the point
of that?”
The tortoise saw reason with the scorpion and agreed to carry him on
his back. However, halfway across the river, the scorpion gave the
tortoise a big sting. As they both started to sink to the bottom of the
river, the tortoise asked the scorpion in bewilderm-ent: “But why did
you do that? Now both of us are going to drown.” “I couldn’t help it,”
the scorpion replied sadly. “It’s in my nature.”
It is in the nature of death to kill. Indeed, death is the only thing
death can guarantee. Therefore, those who make a covenant with death
are foolish. The only person that can guarantee life is Jesus. Jesus
says: “The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to
destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it
more abundantly.” (John 10:10).
God says from his throne of mercy: “Your covenant with death will be
annulled, and your agreement with Sheol will not stand.” (Isa 28:18).
Therefore, he sent me to raise the old man back to life. But, as a
latter-day Jonah, instead of going to Nineveh, I took a boat and headed
for Tarshish.
Fruits of repentance
I carried the burden of the old man’s death on a business trip to New
York. I went to Kings Plaza in Flatbush, one of the major shopping
centres, and sat down for a burger in one of the fast-food shops. It was
time to have a serious heart-to-heart with God. I apologised for my
disobedience and for my insensitivity. I pleaded that I was just too
afraid to talk to the old man, but my fears could not justify my
diso-bedience.
It was one long mono-logue. The Lord said nothing in reply. As I got
up to leave, I remember-ed that I always have difficulty getting a taxi
back to Canarsie every time I came to King’s Plaza. So I asked the Lord:
“Could you please help me get a taxi?”
As I came out of the fast food and turned right, the Lord finally
spoke. He said: “Femi, turn left.” I turned left to discover the swing
glass doors lead-ing outside were actually there. Immediately I pushed
it and walked outside, I was surprised to find a man sitting in a car,
some ten metres away, beckoning to me. I looked behind me, to make sure
he was not calling someone else.
But he pointed to me, indicating I was the one he was calling. When I
got to him, I leaned through the window, wondering what he wanted.
“Where do you want to go?” the man asked. It was only then I realised he
was the driver of a mini-cab. “I am going to Canarsie,” I replied. “Hop
in,” said the man.
Forgiven
I could not believe it. I asked the Lord for a taxi and I did not even
have to hail one. The driver was the one who called me. I smiled in
astonishment all the way to Carnasie. The Lord has forgiven me! No
wonder, one of his names in the Old Test-ament is “the
God-who-forgives.” (Psalm 99:8).
The next day, I took another taxi, headed for a completely different
destination. Suddenly, I closed my eyes and started praising God. I said
to him: “Daddy, you are such a wonderful person. I disobeyed you, and
yet you readily forgave me. I asked you for a taxi and you made the
mini-cab driver beckon to me. You are just too much.”
Suddenly, the Lord said to me: “Femi, open your eyes and look up.”
When I did, I could not believe what I saw. I was in the taxi at the
exact same spot at which the mini-cab driver had beckoned to me the day
before. There was a traffic-jam and we were at a stand-still. To my
right were the swing glass-doors of the Kings Plaza where I had exited
the previous day. Don’t ask me how we got there because I have
absolutely no idea.
“O LORD my God, I cried out to You, and You healed me. O LORD, You
brought my soul up from the grave; You have kept me alive, that I should
not go down to the pit. Sing praise to the LORD, you saints of His, and
give thanks at the remem-brance of His holy name. For His anger is but
for a moment, His favor is for life; weeping may endure for a night, but
joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:2-5).
By Femi Aribisala
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