Friday, October 28, 2011

Death Be not Proud

Sometimes, news hits you with such a grandiose haymaker that many times you lose balance and cannot throw anything back. Sad news knows how to bring stillness while at the same time cause such turmoil.

Death is the ultimate sad news. Nothing can beat it. Forget about the small 200 million shilling debt you may be having, or perhaps that retake or that accident which damaged your car. Forget about your lack of supper or fuel, death surpasses all these.

This year has been one of those that are just well, trying, to say the least.

At the beginning of the year, I received a text from a friend. "My dad has died.".

Angst! Fury! Carnage! Such a grave statement made even more grave by just the four words and a full stop. I find it hard to explain why that statement made me solemnly sad but it was just the pure admission and perhaps resignation in it that gave my heart pangs.

Some months down the road, another text. Meanwhile, they are always texts. "My dad has died.". Again. The same words. And this time it was my cousin. I did not know how to react. I knew I had to go home and see my aunt and cousins but damn, now? I keep wondering why the same words?

Another few months down the road, we are celebrating new birth. Two new boys, twins in fact. The spirits are high. And then, first day, "Kato abuuse." (Kato has died). Darn. Insert an angry word. However, the life of Wasswa is consolation.

Sunday night,we are watching the news and a call comes in, mom picks it and goes to her bedroom. Moments later she comes with deep distress announcing "Wasswa naye abuuse!". Both twins, gone. 7 months all gone up like smoke. The beautiful boys gone. I had not even yet laid an eyes on either.


"Kasita nze ndi mulamu." Was the consolation she gave us her younger brothers. "At least I am still alive." Heave.

Another friend lost her mum, and there I was looking awkward trying to make her feel better. Darn.

Just this week, I read about Leland Shores. He died too, pneumonia. Such a man of God, who had lived diligently for the sake of the gospel. I saw him one time at the Food Court at Garden City and wanted to go over and ask him to pray for me, since I had my issues. But I was with a friend, and he was having lunch with friends so I decided not to bother him. Leland shores was in charge of Andrew Wommack ministries in Uganda. I had also seen him last year at the Gospel Truth Seminar at Serena.

Now today in the morning, my mom tells me Bishop John Michael Mugerwa died with colleagues in an accident in Kakira, that after 30 minutes, they were still cutting out the remains of the deceased.


Sometimes I do not get it.

All I can say is, may He comfort our hearts, the God of all comfort. I know, not one of us has not experienced this, so my thoughts are with us all.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Isaiah 25:8

He will swallow up death forever,
      And the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces;
      The rebuke of His people
      He will take away from all the earth;
      For the LORD has spoken.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Another time, another place

Before I start this tale, a small reminder:

So, I went to Church on Sunday. I decided to go for the 10am service. I could have gone for the 5pm service on Saturday, but what with chasing fate!See, I have a dream and that dream could only become visual on Sunday at 10am.

I mentioned to you previously how I should at least have got her name. Unfortunately for a weak guy like me, I did not and had to spend the ensuing week ruing a missed chance. However, not to be outdone, a lot of options were presented to me. Some advised I give a testimony in Church so she could see me, others said I should become an usher but what I decided on was to go to the same seat and see if she would do the same.

Unfortunately for me, the best time to do it should have been a week after but the week after I was occupied in Malaba. So this was a really tough call but hey, better to take it than keep on ruing. So I went to Church last Sunday aiming for the same seat, hoping she would do the same.

Unfortunately for a second time, I this time arrived late; a few minutes after 10am. I still went to the same place hoping, just, maybe she is there. And I walked mindful of the faces above and below, my eyes simulated the form and face I was expecting to see, but unfortunately for the third time, she was not there.

Assumptions processed in my mind :She did not see me last week, so she gave up.She was late too.Dude, stop dreaming.

Ah, all for not asking a name, perhaps maybe a number as well. Good news is, I am over it somehow. Maybe another time, another place, I will ask her name and maybe get her number soon enough.

So, fare thee well, fair lady, till another day in paradise, maybe you will come in a fairer form and I will be a bolder man.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

"If only I had asked her name."

"If only I had asked her name."

I keep telling myself, two days after I saw her. She was the prettiest sight lately, the most dove eyed beauty to pass my way in a

long time. She, graceful and stately, stood beside me the whole time, and I wish, keep wishing;

"If only I had asked her name."

Her eyes never danced at all, they were steady.When she looked at me, she would stare deep and not try to rush away. Her smile was

a wine brew, glaring in the light. She was such a beautiful woman,

"If only I had asked her name."

The Pastor asked us to join hands across the pew, and give thanks for all God's blessings.Our hands intertwined, she pressed gently

onto mine. My goodness, I felt a tingle, fire warming my veins!And now I am ruing,

"If only I had asked her name."

The rain was falling, I was last at the door.The wind was blowing, I had no sweater on. Yet each time I looked, at the placid joy

in her eyes, my body was revived, and it was cold no more.

"If only I had asked her name."

She was gentle, she was beautiful, she was most of those things men dream of . As they asked us to pray, I muttered,

"Father I receive a wife."

And now I am thinking, constantly deliberating, planning to become an usher so that I may see her again. Maybe I should try the

same seat, same service and hope she does so too. I need to find that woman, coz I think she'll be my wife.