Way Back W
ay back there existed a very thin line between feasting and fasting. This meant that boundaries where often crossed at will. For some low spiritual brethren, they cross the borders with ease and tell God that it couldn't be helped. For the medium spiritual ones, they owed their allegiance to time rather than God and therefore, time determines how often they will cross the borders. For the highly spiritual ones, well, they have something to prove, some respect to earn and goal to achieve. Brother EmEm struggled off his bed and lustfully considered the bread and butter that lay on his table, hissing, he went for his toothbrush, he checked the Time, "Jeeez," he seethed. The time was just eleven thirty am in the morning. He mumbled some incoherent words as he left the room. I sat there, wondering what the matter was with Emem, was he complaining about something or was he speaking in tongues? He had been rather quite all morning, almost lifeless, except for some occasional jerks and some mumblings, which sounded strange. My thoughts where interrupted when he stepped back into the room. He went straight for his bed and collapsed into it. Not being able to contain myself, I moved up to him and asked him what the matter was. There was no answer. I peered closer nearly fearing something. I heard what sounded like a snore. The guy is sleeping? I touched him lightly, calling his name. His whole body started to jerk and for the first time I was sure that he was speaking in tongues. He waved his hand in a manner indicative of the fact that I was disturbing his communion with God. "Lord knows I tried!" Was my only consolation as I left the room for a shower. I came into the room to meet Emem relishing the last crumb of the buttered bread. He reached for a cup of water, gulped and wondered why I was staring at him. With what seemed a miraculous agility, he sprang up and belched. I was still staring. "By the way why were you disturbing me?" He asked. "Didn't you know I was fasting?" It was only ten minutes past twelve in the afternoon. "Fasting?" I screamed, "You were dead!" For brother Charles, fasting was all about beating the deadline set by God. If only he could make it to six o'clock then a crown awaits. His fasting tools were a bed to lie on; a pillow to hold is stomach, a cup of water as a standby in case duty demand switch from dry fasting to wet fasting, a bedside clock with alarm set for six o' clock and finally the much needed assurance of some food awaiting consumption as soon as the battle is over. This was way back, years later brother Charles was to admit that he hardly met the deadline and had had to approximate to the nearest whole number which was usually six o'clock hoping that God understood mathematics to still give him his laurel. Alex packed his baggage, not that there was a much in it by way of worldly possessions; just a shirt and a trouser, a bible and some Christian books. Where was he going? In his own words, "to the mountain." Alex for some time has been practicing to be like Christ at least to impress God and earn respect from some of us. He figured that
56
R E A L
By Egerton Idehen
The Beauty of
there was no better way to do this than to go on 40 days fast, and to the "mountain" he went. The mountain turned out to be a disserted friends room in the outskirts of town. The first day saw Alex praying like he never did all his life and the first night taught Alex what it is to be hungry; and the day and the night was the first day. With thirty-nine days to go, Alex knew if he didn't compromise his standard, he'd probably be meeting the lord soon. So he drank some water, a shift from the originally proposed dry fast. By afternoon of the second day the relief rendered by water became purely academic in the light of the twinge he felt in his stomach. Why not break the fast with light food like custard every evening? He questioned. This suggestion was appealing; thanking the Holy Ghost for the inspiration he went outside to buy custard. By the third day custard had become morning, afternoon and evening meal. By the fourth day the can of custard was completely exhausted! Brother Alex came down from the mountain. The night and the day was the fourth day, without the much-desired zero. Pastor Emeka was duly reminded that he was the one preaching in an hour's time. This reminder came from Elder Timothy, who had had a hard time understanding why a preacher who was due on the pulpit in an hour's time would be the last to let go of the pounded yam. Fine, it has been a long fast, but why in the world would pastor Emeka not let go, after all, everybody fasted. He had a very bad feeling about it. For an important crusade like this everybody must be physically and spiritually alert, this he had learnt from experience. Pastor Emeka was not to be hurried. He carefully signed out of the food and had enough time to belch. 'It is not by power and not by might it is by spirit of the lord,' he thought disregarding the concern of the other brethren. The whole crusade ground was packed full and Pastor Emeka was trying his best to move up and down the platform to no avail. He was feeling so heavy. He decided on trying some of his old joker, " We're going to shout seven loud hallelujahs," he told the crowd. "Praise the Looorrrrd…" he screamed. He almost passed out. He being too aware that before it gets to the seventh hallelujah the sound would have petered into a mere whisper, especially when he lacked the breathe to reinforce each hallelujah, decided to use the first hallelujah as a cover to save the day. He moved back stage towards where the other ministers where sitting and whispered to them, making sure that the microphone was far from him, "pray for me" Elder Timothy whispered back to him," No, Pounded yam" So was the anointing licked that day in so much that little was achieved even though so much was prayed for. I came into the prayer ground heavily decked with food. The strength I exuded that day could have won me the greatest prayer
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
Marriage Dr Uvoh Onoriobe Editor-in-Chief
STATEMENT OF
PURPOSE is about life torn apart by life’s many experiences. It is our vision to provide an avenue (through the print and electronic media) where the hurting, the depressed, the frustrated and confused can find love acceptance, healing, hope, help forgiveness and encouragement. It is our vision to help believers discover, develop, and maximise God’s purpose for their lives.
2 3 4
Editor’s Letter Letters
Content
How Can I Know What God Wants Me To
Do?
8 10 12 13 14 19
Bill Wilson-Committed to the Salvation of Children Issues Of The Heart Story-Tamara Sista, Sista Raised from the dead
What Is Wrong With Living Together Before Marriage? 21 Clean Talk
22 25 27
Cont’d on page 52
1
Cover Story - The Beauty of Marriage Let’s Talk About Sexual Addiction 35 Possible Places of Meeting Your R E A L
Spouse 28 Gospel Beats- Commissioned
30 32 34 36 38 39 41 43 44 46 47 48 50 52
Story-That Night 70 Questions you must answer... Lady to Lady Somebody Help! Love Story Health Matters For Guys Only Praise Fiesta Unmarried Men In the Church Under the Shadow Table Manners Reflections Protect Your Sexual Health Single and Dignified
R E L A T I O N S H I P S