Let us Pray

I was glad when they said to me, "Let us go to the house of the Lord."

Psalm 122:1

I was just a couple of weeks into my Kano experience when I had a particularly disconcerting experience. I had gone to a supermarket to buy some stuff when I found the door firmly bolted in my face. I turned around wondering what had become of the storekeepers, only to see a gathering of men, in their obligatory flowing robes, all kneeling on their prayer mats for the mid-day Muslim prayers. "Won't you go and join them?", a nearby woman asked. I flashed her a look of righteous indignation, turned on the heel and strutted away, head held high. The whole motion said one thing only: "How dare you think I'm one of you!"

But then as I've become more used to living and dealing with Muslims it's very clear now that their religion is such an integral part of their culture and their everyday life. They certainly don't joke with their prayer times. It's not uncommon to hear them sounding words of invitation to each other, "let's go and pray", "have you prayed", etc. It's taken for granted - if you're a Muslim, you will pray. Even I have become seemingly so caught up in the system that when the time for prayer is approaching I ask my fellow workers, "won't you go and pray?" They've been conditioned to pray and to do so regularly.

Now without a doubt there's a great lesson to learn for us who pray to the Heavenly Father. I'm not for a minute going to suggest that you begin to treat prayer like a thing of religion. That'll just defeat the whole purpose. God designed it as something for fellowship more than just something we do out of a sense of duty. But that we do it at all is a good starting point. The more we spend time in prayer, the more we condition ourselves to love it and live it. As with all things we practice, it becomes less of an onerous task and more enjoyable with each experience.

So, borrow a leaf from my dear Muslim friends. Pray! And while you're at it, invite someone else. You'd be surprised where that simple act could take you. In a few seconds you could be actively changing your world.

With love, Doosuur.

Jesus on the Playground

We don't have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He's been through weakness and testing, experienced it all - all but the sin. So let's walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.

Hebrews 4:15,16

Because God’s children are human beings—made of flesh and blood—Jesus also became flesh and blood by being born in human form... Therefore, it was necessary for Jesus to be in every respect like us, his brothers and sisters, so that he could be our merciful and faithful High Priest before God.

Hebrews 2:14&17

Watching a couple of kids play around this morning made me just a bit nostalgic of childhood. Playing ring-a-ring-a-roses and "catcher" (tag) as school-age kids in Kaduna with my siblings and neighbors was always a blast, really something to look forward to. Yeah, I miss the free-spirited nature of those young years. But I was there and I'm grateful for the experience.

As we celebrate Christ's birth this season, it brings to the fore that Jesus was here. He lived like us, worked like us, played like us. Imagine that - Jesus on the playground! Okay, I know it's kind of hard to picture Jesus singing silly songs and crying when he smudged his knee, particularly since he was teaching professors before he was a teenager, but I believe he did all those things, perhaps just as well as any of us. I'm thinking it's important that our idea of Christ changes from just a middle-aged bearded melancholic to include his childhood and youth. A new perspective can help us see the truth clearly - that Jesus was just like us, but without sin. He laughed, cried, ate, drank, swam, worked and did just about everything expected of a man in his culture. All man, as much as he was God.

Scripture says it was necessary for God to experience manhood so that he could identify with us in our weaknesses and know just at what points we need help. It is this experience that qualifies him to serve as High Priest in all God's house and to represent us before the Just Father. Hebrews 5 says "every high priest selected to represent men and women before God and offer sacrifices for their sins should be able to deal gently with their failings, since he knows what it's like from his own experience."

So as we pause this Christmas to remember the birth and youth of Jesus, thank God that he knows just about everything that we go through, and then some. And that he's gentle in dealing with us.

Have a lovely Christmas.

With love, Doosuur

A Bowl of Garri

I thank you High God - you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration - what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit…

Psalm 139:14,15

For a bachelor serving in rural Northern Nigeria, food is at a premium. It's so difficult to get a decent meal (and my mother wonders why I'm so thin!).

Well, the other day, I and a few fellow corpers, Shola, Udeme and Wumi, gathered our broke selves in one of our rooms to drown our sorrows in a bowl of garri. Shola had some lovely Ife garri (she claims it's better than Ijebu) so we all pitched in to make a feast of it. One person brought the milk, another the milo, while I brought the sugar. Water, of course, was plentiful. As we each took our bowl and began concocting our respective cocktails, one thing became obvious. We all liked garri our way. What I mean is this: I take garri with lots of sugar and enough water but not milk, if the garri is sour. Shola thinks sugar in garri is spoiling the taste. But then she uses milk. Wumi likes his with milo and sugar. Udeme combines everything. And we all thought we were having garri the best way possible!

I think it's just like that with so many things in life. Each of us has his own way of doing things that works just for us. It may not please others, sometimes it's downright offensive, but it works for us. For example I like Indomie well enough (though I've had much too much this year), but then at the same time I'm not exactly a fan of spaghetti. Another person eats only fish, no meat. Others can't stand bread! But we're all the same species. Doesn't it just make you wonder?

Several things I learn from all this, but I think the most wondrous of all is to marvel at the immense diversity that God has put in us, the crème of His creation. He's made all of us with a strong streak of individuality, so that each human is his own person, without a duplicate. What a wonder! Why do siblings, even twins have their own likes and dislikes when they were brought up in the same environment, with the same exposures and influences? It's just God's way; and that's what makes His creation such a masterpiece.

It's also God's way of telling me I'm special; set apart from anyone else. So, yes, I have no qualms about liking what I like and disliking what I dislike. That's just me, the way God made me. And I still think my garri tastes best.

With love, Doosuur.

Harmattan in Ibadan?

Yet true religion with contentment is great wealth. After all, we didn't bring anything with us when we came into the world, and we certainly cannot carry anything with us when we die.

1 Timothy 6:6&7

No one needs to tell you that's it's been cold in Jos. I mean, when is it not cold? But Kano has been having it's share of subnormal temperatures since the onset of the harmattan. The harsh north-easterlies come bearing their dust and chill and one must cover up to sleep at night.

I'm billed to write an examination here in Lagos tomorrow and, coming from the North, I was dreading the heat of the West. We stopped over for the night in Ibadan and this morning, as we took off, the weather was reasonably mild. As we got onto the Lagos-Ibadan expressway one of the ubiquitous police checkpoints stopped our commercial car. A passenger remarked about the policeman, "Why is he sweating in this harmattan?" You call this Harmattan? I wondered. It was all I could do to keep myself from laughing. Granted, it was not boiling hot but it was certainly not cool enough to warrant such a designation. Needless to say, a couple of hours later I was in Lagos and sweating like a pig.

But then it occurred to me. This man was appreciating the weather for it's coolness and dryness, as opposed to the heat and humidity of Lagos. I on the other hand appreciated it for it's warmth and moistness, compared to the harsh and cold conditions of Jos and Kano. We had widely differing perspectives of the same conditions and because of this we both appreciated it.

You see, I think an important function of harsh conditions that we face in our lives is to help us to better appreciate the good things. How would we appreciate a safe journey if we'd never had an accident? How would we know to say thank you for a meal if we've never been hungry? How could we be grateful for a breath of fresh air if we'd never experienced the common cold? Yes, adversity increases our awareness of God's benevolence in our lives. It teaches us contentment with what we have.

So thank you Lord for the cool of Jos and the heat of Lagos. It makes harmattan in Ibadan that much more enjoyable.

With love, Doosuur.

The Sense of Smell

Noah built an altar to GOD. He selected clean animals … and offered them… God smelled the sweet fragrance and thought to himself, "I'll never again curse the ground because of people."

Genesis 8:20&21

What's your favorite smell? I caught a whiff off some heady wood-smoke while waiting for some balongo and it sent me to seventh heaven. What cuts it for you? For some it's the aroma of fresh home-baked bread. Ummm! Or maybe it's Chanel No.5 (yeah, I'm old school). For a few, even the smell of gasoline gets them high. But it just got me thinking about the sense of smell. You know, most of the other senses - sight, touch and hearing are meant for self-preservation. They help us survive. But the senses of smell and taste, so far as we humans are concerned, are intended for something perhaps less noble. They're intended for pleasure. Imagine that! The thought brings a smile to my face. It's one of those nice gifts God has packaged for us to help us enjoy life. Just wake up and smell the roses and you're alright.

Now if you take a walk through God's regulations for the Israelites in the early days, you see that a lot of them had to do with burning sacrifices and incense. God was telling them that when he smelled their gift, He would appreciate it. In essence, He was teaching that young generation of believers that their principal responsibility was to seek His pleasure. He's spoken to us in much clearer terms in the New Covenant saying, quite clearly, "find out what pleases the Lord."

Now imagine that. God blessed us with the gift of pleasure for one reason more than simply our own enjoyment. He did it so that we could understand just how much He Himself desires enjoyment. And what does he want to enjoy? Us. You and Me. Is it any surprise that the Revelations 5 & 8 speaks about the prayers of the saints as bowls filled with incense? God's pleasure is in communion with me.

And that's what I learnt. So, next time you smell something great, don't keep it to yourself. Share the pleasure with your God.

With love, Doosuur.

NCCF Family Song

Under his direction, the whole body is fitted together perfectly. As each part does its own special work, it helps the other parts grow, so that the whole body is healthy and growing and full of love.

Ephesians 4:16

Those of you who've served and were active with the Nigerian Christian Corpers' Fellowship will probably have a sense of nostalgia when hearing or singing the Family Song. I simply love the song for it's sense of camaraderie and fellowship, both in the words and in the way it's sung. It's one of the things I'm going to miss most about NYSC. In a few lines it speaks about brotherly love, serving together and fellowship. One gets a sense of true koinonia (communion) in these words. Let me walk you through.

It's usually sung at the end of a meeting. Everyone stands in a circle, if it's a small enough group, and holds hands, as the song leader intones, "Do you love this Family?" We respond,

I love this Family of God.

So closely knitted into one.

They have taken me into their arms

And I'm so glad to be

A part of this great Family.

The warm welcome that this verse refers to is something anyone would love to be a part of. Even as a newcomer to God's house you're not just a guest. You're part of the family. Now that's something to be glad about.

Then there's a call and response verse with each line repeated:

Hand in hand together we will go (repeat)

Don't you know you mean so much to me (repeat)

I need you to build this Family (repeat)

This verse underscores the fact that the work of the House of God requires everyone to work together, for the common good. We're all important and have a role to play.

And then we sort of "break it down" reggae style:

NCCF is a big family, "Oh Yes!"

NCCF is a big family, "Oh Yes!"

I love the way you walk,

I love the way you talk,

I love the way you smile,

I love the way you sing, etc.

Now, only in heaven will I possibly like everything about you. But this looks forward with great positivity. I can love you fully by God's grace.

Then we all lift our hands as we sing,

Higher and higher we will go, (repeat)

Don't you know you mean so much to me, (repeat)

I need you to build this Family. (repeat)

And then the energetic coda to round it all up is the famous song "We are heirs".

We are heirs of the Father,

We are joint-heirs with the Son,

We are children of the Kingdom,

We are Family, we are One.

What a great way to end it. I sing this song with all the energy I've got.

I hope I've got some of you to sing it with me. The irony of it all is that my favorite part of all NCCF programs is the very end.

Yes! I love this Family of God!

With love, Doosuur.

Mother Hen

Can a mother forget the infant at her breast, walk away from the baby she bore? But even if mothers forget, I'd never forget you - never.

Isaiah 49:15

I was eating breakfast at our resident mai shai (local café) yesterday morning when mother hen came by with her seven little chicks in tow, chirping in harmony. She was squawking something furious about her kids not having had something to eat so I decided to share my food with them. I tossed her some crumbs and with each piece of bread that fell to the ground, she'd pick it up and place it in front of one of the chicks. She herself did not eat a thing. "Just how desperate is she to feed her young'uns?" I wondered. So I showed her a piece of bread in my hand but I didn't drop it. Well, she jumped right up and plucked the crumb out of my fingers and dutifully set it in front of the next chick.

I was momentarily distracted, and when I came to I discovered that they had stopped their noisy chirping. I looked to see what had become of the family but all I could see was mother hen in an awkward pose, halfway between a stand and a squat with little chick feet sticking out from underneath. She was gathering them under her wings to shelter then from the harmattan cold. Her posture seemed to be most uncomfortable - she could not stand fully since she wanted to keep them warm, but she could not squat either as her weight might crush them under. So she just half-stood there. The sight reminded me of one of those classic punishments from secondary school.

The care of a mother hen for her chicks is legendary. Even Jesus refers to it, exclaiming, "Jerusalem! Jerusalem! … How often I've ached to embrace your children, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you wouldn't let me." (Matthew 23:37) Such was his compassion for people. But he did more than just care. You see, God did not just risk His life to give us a good meal. He did more. He gave it up. He actually, really, died so that we might live. He goes the extra mile, everyday, just for our sake so we can live healthy, sleep soundly and eat bountifully. He's always on the lookout for us, even when we're as clueless to His means as those chicks were to the hassles of their mother.

Well, thank God for that!

With love, Doosuur.

Missing socks

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

Hebrews 13:6

I recently visited home in Jos, from my "service" station. It just so happens that I forgot to take along a pair of socks. So I went into my old room, looking for what I might wear. I found seven socks. No, not seven pairs of socks. Seven individual stockings, all of them dark blue or black, but not a single one matched. Oh bother!

Reminds me of this joke I once read:

Q: What does it mean when all your socks match?

A: You've started losing them in pairs!

I even hear that some clothing companies have started making socks in threes so that when (not if) you lose one you'll still come up with a pair.

Thinking about this, I considered that if I and God were a sock and it's mate, it's no wonder that one of us always gets missing. And it's not Him. Do you notice how in Scripture, particularly in the Old Testament, the prophets always rebuked the Israelites, telling them to "go back", "return", "seek the Lord while He may be found". Yes, this is the time when He'll always be found. He says in Hebrews, "never will I leave you, never will I forsake you."

But on our part, it's so easy for us to desert Him. When we refuse to "abide", going our own way, doing our own thing, making the wrong decisions and willfully sinning. Problems we all encounter from one time to the other.

Just a thought guys, make some sense?

Love you all.

Preparing for the prince

That's what's happening here in Takai. They're preparing for the prince. Not the Prince of Peace. But the one person on earth who's got a really strong hold on that title. And I'm not talking about The Artist formerly known as Prince either. No. I'm talking about Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales and heir to the British Throne.

We received a delegation a couple of days ago with the news. The prince is coming.

Well, in truth, I do not believe he's really going to come but all the hullabaloo that has followed this announcement is worth taking pause to comment on. Everywhere has been agog with activity. Old walls being repainted, ceiling fans changed, lights refitted, even the gate gets a makeover. Nothing strange here, after all, in this society "eye-service" is always key to progress.

Reminds me of the whitewashed walls Jesus talked about in the gospels. A lot of polishing and shining to hide the dirt that lies beneath.

But what strikes me most about this whole prepping experience is the significance that lies in that statement: "preparing for the prince". I'll tell you, it's a task worth doing, for the right Prince anyway. How much, I wonder am I doing in getting ready for the return of my Lord? Unfortunately for me, he will see through every whitewashed wall and every hastily-fitted gate, right down to what lies beneath. My preparation cannot be done in a hurry. It must be well considered, deliberate and sustainable. Every work we do, the Bible says, will be shown for what it's worth - whether good or bad. The fire will bring it to light.

So, like Jesus said, let us work while it is day. Night is coming when no-one can work.

Pesky Rodents

I hate rats. Lizards I can barely stand and cockroaches I detest. But rats, oh how I hate them. They're simply evil. Sometimes I think God must have created them after the Fall of Man as part of his punishment. There's no other apparent reason for their existence. It would seem their only job description is "destroy". Every other thing in creation seems to have a purpose: spiders control insects, bees pollinate flowers, even mosquitoes feed the fish. But rats!!! they seem to have never done a thing to contribute to the good of man.

I have a pet rat in my room that I've been trying to exterminate for a couple of weeks now. The problem is I have never actually seen it. Yeah I hear it, gnawing at wood while I'm trying to get some sleep. I've seen it's droppings just about everywhere. It shares the garri in my closet. And today I discovered to my dismay that it has chewed through my favorite wool sweater.

As I thought about this most annoying of creatures, I could hardly find anything to compare it to for it's most destructive power while remaining totally out of view. Hardly anything, that is, aside from sin. Yes I believe sin is just like these rats; so immensely destructive. It does it's work in the secret but the consequences are thrust out in the open like rat droppings. It eats away at what is best in our lives and has a knack for targeting what we've worked for years to achieve. It gives birth to other little sins if we are not diligent enough to root it out early enough.

It's so easy to see why Jesus considered it so important to teach his disciples to pray "deliver us from evil". And while you're at it Lord, deliver us from rats.

With love,

Doosuur

Why did the cow cross the road?

I was driving from Kano to Takai yesterday when I was stopped in my tracks by a trio of cows crossing the road. They seemed unperturbed as they lumbered across the road. They had no regard for this contraption of metal and rubber hurtling toward them at 100kph. They just cast me a disdainful glance and continued their leisurely stroll across as if they had not a care in the world! What interested me more was that they crossed diagonally, taking the longer route across.

Why do they always do that? Why don't they care? Is it because they're stupid? Yes, I think so. They're just plain stupid. But then, why? As I thought about it a bit more I came to understand that they're stupid to me because they think differently from they way I would think. To them my car is nothing more than something to look at. The road is nothing more than something to walk on. Their paradigm consists in grass and more grass and if there's more to be had across the road, well that's where they're heading. Quite simply, they have a different way of looking at things.

It reminds me of the scripture that says "do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2). The pattern of this world has to do with the world's way of looking at things. God calls us to a paradigm shift - to look at things differently.

Have you ever wondered why Jesus says of children, "the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these"? I guess it's because they do not think as adults do. They trust implicitly regardless of all apparent evidence to the contrary. They view things differently. Jesus said, "unless you become like little children, you cannot inherit the kingdom of God."

The way of thinking that we're called to as Christians is to think Christ, Christ and more Christ. So we can be forgiven if our concept of pleasure lies not in immorality but in worship. If we're successful not in terms of wealth but in terms of souls. If we're great only when we serve. It's a whole new system of thinking; a new perspective on life.

No wonder they call us stupid. That's what you called the cow.

Love you all.

Doosuur

Of silk robes and gold bracelets

It started with a trivial discussion about the war in southern Lebanon between Israel and Hezbollah but soon turned into something else. My (sort of) Christian roommate was gisting (more like arguing) with my Muslim colleague when I came into the room last night. I came late to the exchange but what I caught at that time went something like this:

colleague: Muslims are not supposed to wear silk

roommate: why not?

colleague: because that's what we'll wear in paradise. and Muslim men are not supposed to wear gold bracelets either.

It was all I could do to hide the smirk on my face. I had to leave the room then - to have myself a good laugh at the absurdity of it! "Silk in paradise", yeah right. But then I caught myself. It was hardly a joke. My Muslim friend is misguided through what may be little fault of his. He's been raised up to believe what he believes and he's going full speed in the wrong direction.

Later on, after I had joined in their conversation, several other things became apparent. I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of this young man's mouth.

"Bin Laden's a hero"

"America's the enemy"

"I'd rather live in Afghanistan under the Taliban than in present day Nigeria"

my roommate challenged him with the question, "would you give your money to fund Al Qaeda?"

"Of course" was his reply. "Al Qaeda, Hamas and Hezbollah are resistance movements and not terrorist organizations like the West chooses to call them."

Well, as you can imagine, the debate went on and on.

Really the details are not necessary. It was just such an eye opener for me. There really is an evil called Islam and it's right next to you (don't look now). There is so much deception in the form of this religion in particular that it's hard to believe.

Should our response to them be one of contempt? I think not. Look at what Jesus said: "Father, forgive them. They do not know what they're doing." Reminds me of that verse: "The God of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers..." Jesus' response to such people around him would have been one of accommodation more than just tolerance, of caring rather than indifference.

I think the onus is on us to reach out positively to those around us who are being deceived with love and care. And words.

Our debate yesterday reminded me of "Springboards" that we had learnt about in discipleship class several years back. Do you remember Nguavese? Grace? Springboards are those parts of conversations we have with non-believers that provide opportunity to redirect thought and share the Gospel. There are a plethora of springboards we come across in everyday conversation.

Like silk robes and gold bracelets.

Love you all.

Doosuur

Reflections on Sickness

"No way, it's my turn to get sick". That was my response to one of my two close friends here in Takai, Kano state when he told me he wasn't feeling too well. You see, the both of them have been sick so often since we got here that I've lost count. Well I needed a little pampering too.

"The day you get sick ehn..." he retorted.

Then I touched the ground with the tip of my finger, touched it to my tongue and lifted it to high heaven in an "I swear" gesture. "Until January when we leave here, I swear I will never be sick". It was a foolish gesture I remembered from primary/secondary school days but I quickly followed it up with a prayer in my heart, "Lord, protect me from illness. Let me not be sick till NYSC is over."

That was last night.

At about 2 a.m. this morning, barely six hours after we had our little conversation, I woke up for what I thought was a routine nighttime sleep break (if you get what I mean) but as I got back into bed I noticed that I was feeling more than a little cold (that's saying a lot for Kano). My joints were aching a bit and I didn't feel altogether. I began tossing and turning and it was all I could do to get back to sleep. By morning my temperature was up and my abdomen was churning, threatening to expel it's contents the wrong way and I had one bout of ... (think I should stop there). I tiptoed out of the room, not wanting my roommate to realize that I was indeed sick, and went to get some Fansidar. And guess what. Yup. I puked! Yuk!! Okay Doosuur, believe it or not, you just asked God not to get sick and see what you get in return.

Needless to say, my friends had a good laugh.

Well, I still don't understand it. Part of me suggests that when I swore not to get sick, I was being proud and seeking my own honor as an "insider" in God's affairs, rather than His own honor. Another part of me says I should not have made that swearing gesture. Yet another voice in my head says it's God's way of poking fun at me: "so you think you can push me around huh?"

Well, I don't know. This email is more about questions than answers. At the end of the day though, my lessons are:

Let your yes be yes and your no be no.

It's God's body and God's show and He can do pretty much what He pleases

And yes, I'm getting better, Glory to God.

Love you all.

Doosuur

A Visit

I was in the theater this morning assisting while our resident surgeon tore open a woman's innards to deliver her lifeless baby when there was a knock on the door.

"Who's that?!" the surgeon shouted with more than a little exasperation in his voice (the procedure was quite difficult).

"Dr. Malu" came the answer, in an all too familiar voice.

I dropped everything and ran to the door like a four-year old, screaming "Daddy!!!" and hugged him, bloody coveralls and all. I was so excited! Pops had come to

pay me a surprise visit in my village in Takai, Kano where I'm serving.

It was a short visit but the 30 or so minutes of it were more than worthwhile. I showed him around the grounds of the hospital while we discussed everything from university politics to world cup semifinals. It was just great.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, as I watched him drive off I remembered the last chorus of that song by Whitney Houston, "You Were Loved"

You were loved by someone, touched by someone,

Held by someone, meant something to someone,

Loved somebody,

Touched somebody's heart along the way,

You can look back and say

You did okay -

You were loved

Well folks, I have no doubt about it, I'm doing quite okay to have such a dad who'd cover the miles from Abuja to a remote part of Kano to spend 30 minutes with his son. I just had to appreciate him and my God.

And I'm still learning a whole lot from him - showing love.

Here's to the world's greatest dad!!!

And for you, in the words of the Diva,

So remember to tell that special one

You are loved.

With love, Doosuur.

A Conversation

Well done, my good and faithful servant…
Matthew 25:21
"Are you a Christian?"
"Yes. Why?"
"You're so... simple. Not like us."
So ended my conversation yesterday morning with a Muslim police officer who had come to me for a coroner's report. Initially when I saw him that morning, I had been tempted to treat him haughtily and with an air of indifference. After all, I'm been paid a paltry sum to do this penance called "national service" and no-one seems to appreciate it. Well, I didn't. I was cordial as I could reasonably be. Thank God good sense won over. I'm not sure if the policeman really meant to call me simple (expression's not the Hausa man's strong suit). But the fact is, I made an impression.

I thought it may be encouraging to the lot of you who from time to time feel unappreciated and perhaps useless. Whether at work or school, just remember, people are always watching. And so is God.
With love, Doosuur.

Reflections on a Rib

I think I cracked a rib. At least that's what the pain tells me. And I did it running away from a spider (hey guys, I thought it was a scorpion). Oh, the pain!

Two things I wondered about. First, I never knew trunk muscles could be that strong. My abdominal muscles forcibly contracted in an attempt to get me up from bed, pulling strongly on that poor rib. Something had to give (and it's not like I gym or anything). The wonder of God's creation called the body!

But it was the pain that most caught my attention. The most mundane tasks became an ordeal. I slept fitfully that night. Eating, drinking, coughing, walking, even breathing became so much more difficult. I couldn't do anything without thinking about that rib. Because it was hurting.

When Jesus compares the Church to the body he draws several parallels, so I feel at liberty to seek some of my own. I wonder how much the attention of the Church is taken up by the hurting of it's members. If you've ever injured a toe or had a bad tooth, you'll know what I'm talking about. You just can't get your mind off that hurting part. What about us? Which member of Christ's body is hurting next to you? Someone lose his father? Someone had money stolen at gunpoint? Someone fail an exam? All too common hurts around us everyday.

I think Christ's desire is that I show them something of the concern I have for my blasted cracked rib.

With love, Doosuur