On our way to work this morning, I remembered a group of brothers introduced to me by a close friend of mine a couple of months ago.
The first, a pilot flying private jets only. The second, a high-ranking navy officer. The third, a journalist for CNN, or was it the Sahara Reporters?
Either way, I found the pack of them just too cool for school. Well, obviously not. But you get my point, I was fascinated.
My sister did not seem to agree.
An officer in the Nigerian Navy? No way.. too dangerous. Not to talk of being a pilot. In Nigeria? You must be kidding me. And a journalist? What’s up with all these danger-stunts? No way. None of them would be home much. Always on the road.. sea… air! Nah, no way.
Oh, and Stella just told me about her brother. He works for the Navy too, you know. They just posted him to the North.
Huh? What’s a Navy officer doing in the Northern part of Nigeria, I wondered? Surely, he should be at sea.
And our conversation continued.. from the Navy, back to journalism and then the military. Nigeria. Austria. As a neutral nation, Austria doesn’t really have an army. Not a proper one anyway: Austria fights no wars.
Her Bundesheer protects her borders, and once in a while a man or two are sent out to support disaster relief operations, but that’s about it.
Its primary aim: protection the land and its people. Securing and reinforcing the city-walls, manning its gates. Of course we have the European Union which has forcefully opened them wide up, but the objective remains: weeding out those unwelcome threats and protecting the nation in advance .. immigrants! Lol, oh well.. Anyway, back to
The city walls and its gates.
My last post yesterday sounded rather dull. Probably not quite as dark and low as I felt at that very moment, but dry anyway.
I think the beauty of having a personal blog is that you can really talk about whatever you wish to.
Whatever you feel like, be it wrong and right; carnal or divine.
I’m allowed to write my heart out.
Perhaps because in writing, I feel.
Often I do not know what it is that bugs me, until I write. It helps me structure, organize and understand my thoughts.
Weeding out the true from the perceived; the real from the imaginary.
Most often.. it leads to clarity.
In structuring my thoughts and related processes, I re-structure patterns of my mind, I erect or correct protective walls for my soul.
I’ve learnt that sometimes our own internal thoughts do as much damage as the external destructive forces of an enemy.
Yesterday, my thoughts led me from feeling low, to wondering, wandering, and asking questions.
The beauty of asking questions lies in the fact that in seeking answers earnestly enough, you most often get them.
Whatever/whoever made us feel it was wrong to ask?
Don’t ask Him why, or when, or how.. just believe.. Huh? But why should I?
Why should I follow or believe in someone who cannot lead or direct me? Calm my storm and give me peace?
Isn’t this what Christ meant when He said (I’m paraphrasing), “Let those who are weary, hungry, thirsty, come to Me.. I’ll give them rest.”?
Isn’t this why kids ask their parents (rather than mates) for ice-creams, toys and gifts?
Isn’t it because they understand that certain needs cannot be met by anyone other than those who love and care for them?
Isn’t this precisely why we call Him our Father?
Well, in asking questions and trusting for answers, I was reminded of promises; perhaps not forgotten, but overlooked.
Promises and pictures once so clear, now overshadowed by the worries and cares of today.
Sometimes those protective walls need to be fortified, re-enforced.
Sometimes it’s not enough to ignore it, “just not think about it”, focus on something else, or even pray it away.
Sometimes you need Stones of Remembrance to control your emotions, and strengthen your mind, encourage your soul.
Sometimes you just need to ask Him honest questions; and believe He’ll answer honestly; and remind you of His promises.
..and sometimes, you just need to write them down to keep both your heart and mind in-check.