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PD 1 here
PD 2 here
PASTORAL DIARY 3
Dear diary, in all honesty I don’t know the emotion coursing through me right now. A part of me wanted to be leaping and jumping up for joy. Another part of me was consumed with immeasurable sorrow. Deep agonizing sorrow that is threatening to envelope my entirety.
Most people carry the wrong believe that ministers of God are super human. With no care whatsoever in this world. But dear diary, you and I know that first, we are man before the suffix of God is added. I for an example am a man and go through all the emotional upheaval all men are subjected to. I dare say, men of the cloth suffer more.
I got a call from a family friend. They have been trusting God for the fruit of the womb after a decade of marriage. The husband called me to join him prayer that the wife has just been wheeled in to the theater. She has been in labor for twelve hours and it is looking bad already.
I mumbled some prayers over the phone . Funny enough, I was supposed to fast today but one thing led to the other and I didn’t. God has a way of proving to me that it is not by my works of righteousness but by his grace.
Fortunately for us, there was some slight delay in starting the procedure. In the process of waiting for the little problem to be fixed, she put to bed on the table. I was still in the prayer mode when my family friend call came through. I hesitated before wiping my android phone to receive the call.
He was screaming at the top of his lungs “she put to bed ooooo, praise God Pastor. Without going under the knife”.
I ran up and down in my little balcony. Mimicking Hussain Bolt celebration as I pumped the air repeatedly joyfully.
I was still basking in the euphoria of the answered prayers all morning. I thanked God for His goodness and mercy shown to the family of my friend.
I receive a text message from the senior Pastor mid morning. I was to meet him in the Church office in the few minutes. The tone of the Pastor was not lost on me. He sounded pained and faraway when I met him twenty minutes later at the office.
We went to visit a distraught member who has just been told that the wife did not make it out of surgery.
I have never seen an adult in my three decades of existence weep like the man did. The man was wailing like a baby. All effort to pacify the man was fruitless. He kept on repeating that “this is not the way we planned it Atinuke”.
My soul was drain of any iota of happiness and somehow within me I put myself in the shoes of the man. I didn’t know when I busted into tears too. The overwhelming emotion was too much for me. The dam holding my tears-gate let loose. Thick goblets of tears rolled down my face and pooled on my shirt.
A stern look from the senior Pastor, meaning to stop the tides of tears did nothing but aggravate the flood of tears. After a few minutes of soul rending cry, I reined in my emotion. I quickly excused myself. I stepped out for cooler air outside the hospital vicinity.
Dear diary, sharing the sorrow and joy of your congregant can be so conflicting. Now from dancing and praising God for his gift of life to a couple in the morning. And visiting a bereaved man who just lost his wife in the afternoon. All happening in a day can be best imagined that experienced.