MY JOURNEY SO FAR - Joseph's Birthday Message

Happy Birthday to me!

As I grew, the song was there. Its melody keeps beckoning and begging me to sing it.

How many of us know that Life is supposed to be some sweet music whose melody and rhythm bestow Great Glory to God—the Earthmaker?[i] That’s the most recent life lesson that I’ve learnt…and it’s the same that I choose to poetically share in this BIRTHDAY PIECE of mine. It’s a summary of My Journey to Purpose discovery—or more poetically speaking, the discovery of my own part of the Grand Orchestra of Life!

I will share summarily and very poetically 5 scenes. The first will depict how hard it was  ACCEPTING, UNDERSTANDING, AND LIVING MY PURPOSE. Really, how many of us are convinced about our purpose? Yet, the truth is that we’ve all got one! The second will depict A TYPICAL TEMPTATION (and the devil has brought tons of them my way ever since I found The Truth). The third will depict how I found MY LOVE[ii]—who shares the same purpose—same song—with me. (If you are yet to fall in love, you will not want to miss that part...lol). The fourth will be about THE PAIN OF IGNORANCE as I’ve seen in some people that I’d longed to reach out to but who thinks they need no help. And the fifth (the last) will be about MY RESOLUTION and MY RECOMMENDATION—call it my Birthday Gift to You.

• ACCEPTING, UNDERSTANDING, AND LIVING MY PURPOSE
• A TYPICAL TEMPTATION
• MY LOVE
• THE PAIN OF IGNORANCE
• MY RESOLUTION and MY RECOMMENDATION

ACCEPTING, UNDERSTANDING, AND LIVING MY PURPOSE

As I grew, the song was there—it has always been! It hangs upon the wind and settles in the meadows wherever I walk. I knew its lovely words and could have sung it from start to finish while I dwelt in the mind of the Earthmaker before the beginning began, but there I was racking my brains to remember the flow of the stanzas. I feared to sing the few bits[iii] that had been permanently etched into my frailty. I feared it won’t be as melodious. And for all I knew, the real song had a harmony and melody that was far too perfect for human ears to understand, and yet indispensable in bringing out the God-colours and God-flavours of this world. I was born. . .to sing a MESSAGE!

God knew that without His help, I won’t be able to sing the song so He kept prodding me. "Sing the Song!" the heavens seemed to cry again and again. "The world never could be complete without the melody that YOU ALONE can sing." But I kept drawing back, sighing that the song that the Earthmaker gave me was higher than the earth, and worse still, I don’t seem to remember it all. So in my agony of longing and reluctance, the atmosphere around me kept arguing back. But as I type today, I’ve gotten enough courage to sing the melody…as far as He reminds me!

It is strange how oftentimes the air speaks. We are sane as long as we hear voices when there are none. We are insane when we hear nothing and worse, we are deaf. Many midnights, the song stirred me to awareness, and with its haunting melody, it drew me with a curious mystery to stand before an open window. In rhapsody it played among the stars. It rippled through Sijuwade Nursery and Primary School and deepened in the four walls of Henry Alex-Duduyemi Memorial College. It swirled in heavy strains from Ambassadors College to Obafemi Awolowo University till it was tied up together and rehearsed again and again in Gombe State. And finally, here I am!

But I’ve not always been like this.

A TYPICAL TEMPTATION

Hate sometimes stands quite close to love. God too stands often near to evil—like silent chessmen—side by side. Only the color of the squares is different.

It was hard to always sing—not when the World Hater keeps going to and fro. Interestingly, he also has a melody, a song. And trust me, he has lured me with the same before. Once upon an internet site[iv], The Hater drew a silver flute from underneath his studded belt. He placed it to his leathered lips drawn tight to play a melody. The song surprisingly was sweet. It filled the canyon with an airy-tune and hung its lingering reverberations mysteriously in every cleft. It rippled on the very ground around my feet. The morning sun glinted fire upon his silver flute. The music and the dazzling light appeared to mesmerize me.

A strange compulsion came upon me so strongly that I wanted to dance to the Hater's tune—in fact, I did for a while within the walls of seeming addiction. He barely staunched my eager urge to keep singing the song that the Earthmaker gave me. But somewhere in the deep recesses of my soul, the Earthmaker kept speaking[v]…

"You must not sing the Hater's song, be very careful, for I love you, Jossy."

Simultaneously, the World Hater was speaking—loud enough to overshadow the Earthmaker’s voice:

"Let's do this tune once again. I'll pipe, you sing. Think of the unspeakable pleasure this bread eaten in secret brings. You will love it!"

Finally, I found the courage to listen to the Earthmaker. I spoke aloud back to the Hater:

"No, Hater, I'll not sing your melodies"

"What then will you sing?" He asked.

"The True Song that the Earthmaker gave me" I replied.

"Alone, without accompaniment?" He questioned.

"Yes, Hater, all alone if need be" I insisted.

"You need my pipe, man" He suggested.

"YOU need MY SONG instead" I affirmed.

"The music of your song is far beyond my tiny pipe" He submitted.

"Then, go! For I shall never sing a lesser piece" I concluded.

Then all at once the courage to keep up with the True Song came again and I kept singing! The mountains amplified my song. It swirled as sunlit symphony, until the Hater put his pipe beneath his belt and fled before the True Song—the song of Grace and Truth.

MY LOVE (How I Met Eleos, Mercy--My Sweet Bliss)

We were like two artists who met one time within a little wood. Each brought his finest painting stroked by his complete uniqueness. When each revealed his canvas to the other—they were identical. When I revealed my canvas to her and she showed me hers, they were perfectly identical! So once in every solar system there are two fingerprints alike. But once—only once.

Let me tell you how it happened.

While threading the destiny path mapped out for me by the Earthmaker, I discovered a junction where my path intercepted another pilgrim’s path. We got to the junction at the same time and kept walking along but without speaking. We walked still further without speaking. Then out of circumstantiality and timing only divinity could have arranged, I broke the silence with a little introduction.

"My Lady, I am Joseph, the singer!" I blurted out at once.

"I know," she said.

"I love the Earthmaker more than life. He has sent me to the crowded ways to sing the Song of Grace and Truth" I continued.

"I know," she said again and continued... "I heard the Song only once. It was the very night that we were born in the mind of the Earthmaker as a Divine Twain. And all these years, My Lord, I've known that we would meet at this interception. I’d looked forward to this part of my pilgrimage—our pilgrimage! So, can you sing the True Song of Grace and Truth yet?"

"I can," I answered back.

We neared a house and entered. We shared a simple meal and sat in silence. And the song, which we alone of all the world did know, was lingering all around us in the air. She had not heard its strains for over 20 years but hungered for its music. And I had not sung it for an afternoon but longed to have its fluid meaning coursing through my soul.

So…of course the song began. Its melody fell upward into joy and climbed its way in spangled rhapsody. Earthmaker's infant stars adored Him as we sang, and blazed His name through every galaxy.

THE PAIN OF IGNORANCE

There is a confidence I’ve found in people—such as only ignorance could supply. No person ever is so helpless as the man in whom joy and misery sleep comfortably together. No physician can give health and happiness to the man who enjoys his affliction. For such a man health and happiness are always contradictory.

I’ve met such a one before. And the earlier hours of today, before I typed this, My Love met some, too. The one I met was a drunkard; the ones My Love met were smokers. I can’t help imagining what manoueverings the Hater had done to them that keeps giving them pleasure from stolen waters. Here is one of such imaginary conversations:

"Where are you, World Hater?" I'd shout.

"Standing in the doorway of the worlds—reveling in my melodies of ugliness and death" He'd reply.

"How long has this young smoker held in your chains cried beyond the doorway of the worlds?" I'd ask. Then the World Hater would seem to summon up the volume of the poor guys moaning, then he would shout, "He’s moaned a million years—It never stops. He hurts with pain that burns and eats the conscience—illuminating every failure. He never can be free. Crying is the only thing he knows"

"Poor boy! Has he nothing to look back upon with joy?" I would ask.

"No. Nor anything to look forward to with hope."

"Who brings him bread and water?" I’d ask.

"I do" He'd reply.

"Why?"

"To see him dance in madness without a tiny hope! Imagine my delight when he raves and screams in chains."

"Could he ever give up suffering for one small moment, every thousand years or so?" I’d continue.

"No. Never. He aches in simply knowing he will never cease to ache" the Hater would reply with glee. Then I’d ask him: "How did you manage to make him cherish all this nothingness?"

"I simply make him feel embarrassed to admit that he is incomplete. A man would rather close his eyes than see himself as your Father—the Earthmaker does. I teach him (and all others in my chains) to exalt their emptiness and thus preserve the dignity of man" He’d reply.

"but they need the dignity of God" I’d press on.

"You tell them that. I sell a cheaper product."

That’s how he usually ends such discussions. Then seeing that the poor boy wouldn’t get help, I could only imagine in silence that someday, I (or any other with such a song that could free such captives) will come to the Canyon of the Damned and sing…and smash the gates that hold the damned till every chain will fall away.

I could only imagine…

MY RESOLUTION and MY RECOMMENDATION

I have chosen the good path. I found it barely 5 years ago, but it's been worth the walk. And so has My Love. If there’s anything we are both sure of, it’s eternal bliss! The word crying does not appear in the lexicon of heaven. It is the only word listed in the lexicon of hell. In hell there is no music—an agonizing night that never ends as songless as a shattered violin. Hence, the need for YOU to also make a decision!

Decision is the key to destiny. A pilgrim once asked the Earthmaker: "God, can you be merciful and send me off to hell and lock me in forever?" Guess God’s response? "No, Pilgrim, I will not send you there, but if you CHOSE to go there, I could never lock you out”

If you ask me "What would you like to be when you grow up, Joseph?" My answer will be one word: "Alive!"

What about you?

Anyways, I wish me a Happy 23rd anniversary!

Thanks for reading!

[i] In this write-up, God will be represented by “Earthmaker”; Satan by “The World Hater” or simply “Hater”.

[ii] Her real name is Yusuf Aanuoluwapo Elizabeth.

[iii] God doesn’t often show us ALL that we are meant to be at a go. He brings the picture in bits and bits. Tie down each bit and fix it appropriately on the puzzle canvas. Sooner or later, you will get the clear picture.

[iv] Call that Pornography Addiction…lol

[v] There is no temptation that is not common to men…but GOD WILL, WITH EVERY TEMPTATION, MAKE A WAY OF ESCAPE!

Joseph says:

I'm a writer that speaks and a speaker that writes. Author of 2 books (THE SALVATION JOURNEY & 13:13; THE NUMBERS OF LIFE). The proud husband of a one-in-a-billion wife, and the proud father of Jemima, Kezia, and Joseph...amazing Godly kids...IN THE NEXT FEW YEARS!

Check him out on Facebook ' Ola Joseph Kolawole'.