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Such Is Life

The incredible story of the fate we share,

the gift within, and why you need to be here

HENE AKU KWAPONG

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Such Is Life

The incredible story of the fate we share, the

gift within, and why you need to be here

HENE A K U K WA PONG

THE ANCIENT PROPHETS MANDATE SERIES

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Copyright © 2014 Hene Aku Kwapong, Songhai.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

without the written permission of the publisher except in the case

of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Book originally published under the title

“Would You Please Close My Eyes?” with WestBow Press

WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson

1663 Libert y Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 w

w w.westbowpress.com

1 (866) 928-1240

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility y for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2368-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2369-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2367-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014901159

Printed in the United States of America.

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CONTENTS

Introduction .............................................................................................. .ix

A Seat on the Train ...................................................................................1

The Reason for the Journey..................................................................7

The Greatest Gift Ever Given ............................................................ 17

Not Without Faith .................................................................................. 25

The Faith I Speak Of.............................................................................. 41

Of Doubt ..................................................................................................... 53

A Promise to Keep ................................................................................. 63

Of Desire and the Will.......................................................................... 73

Not Without Possibility ....................................................................... 85

Blessed be the Blind ............................................................................. 95

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This is dedicated to the memory of the many children

who wake up each day wondering whether they will

ever have a life at chance and to the memory of the

many that, because of the selfishness and recklessness of

other adults, never complete the journey called life.

You deserve to be here.

…and to my parents Godfried Osae & Regina

Apparteim for giving me a beginning.

~ OAK

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1

INTRODUCTION

“Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all

that he wrought and endured”

My name is Sisi Aku and those are the words of Homer that fill

me with great satisfaction and extreme content each day I am

reminded of my father. He, together with my mother, gave me

a beginning; a beginning without which I would never have

known the miracles that are possible in this life. He used to

call me Okyerefo Aku. I never understood and appreciated the

magnitude of what it meant till later on in adulthood when I

had to go back to the village to bury my father. There I was

told my parents named me after the first man in the village

ever to use corrugated iron roofing on his house, somewhat

of a visionary I guess. I am not sure if that had anything to

do with my love for the enterprising. But as we sat down the

days after, I found out “Okyerefo” meant one who starts a

community and I was named after him indeed.

I have been blessed with many miracles on this journey – the

ability to laugh, the possibility of falling in love, the tragedy

of tears, and the sheer freedom to make mistakes – as a mere

2

mortal in the midst of many unknowns. What lies ahead for

you and me, neither of us knows. However, we are here and

there is going to be an end to our stories.

As I think about my father, my biggest frustration is the

helplessness I felt the day I stood next to his grave as his

casket was lowered into the ground. We had always come

home together each time we went out to a place together.

However, for the first time in my life, I had to leave him behind,

exposed to the harsh realities of the elements from which we

were formed. I am here because he was here.

I stay on this journey of life for a reason. That reason is the

story I want to share with you. The grief, the struggles, and

the work of my father to live out his reason for being the best

he could is what gives me the drive to live out my own story.

Even though my life stands insignificant in the grand design

of providence, whose mind I can never understand, it is the

sheer mortality I share with others like you that have left me

room to experience the miracles of life. It is the belief that

my story on this journey is told by my own steps that will

ultimately close my eyes when I take my last breath on this

journey. Mine is a story of faith, a story of discovering my

fate that I share with you, but one that makes it all worth it

because it is the destiny we share. You and I are here.

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A SEAT ON THE TR AIN

My name is Sisi Aku and this is my seat. My seat is all about

people. That is the secret my life has revealed to me. People

are fascinating to me and incredibly amazing. They could be

refreshingly simple to admire and yet difficult to deal with.

Unfortunately, people - each one of us - do die and our stories

end. That is the life you and I share at this moment. It has been

a journey for me and while I know where I have been, I am not

certain where I am heading or how the story will end.

While most births occur in the ninth month of pregnancy, I do

not understand why it took thirteen months for me to come

out of my mother’s womb. My mother had fallen very sick

after the tenth month and had been to the doctor’s several

times, but could never go into labor. Having lost seven of her

own brothers, her family had become less trusting of modern

medicine and decided to consult instead with an herbalist in

the port city of Elmina, an old transatlantic slave trade stop

on the West Coast of Africa. Seven hens close to laying eggs

were what the family was asked to purchase. According to

the herbalist, each hen was likely to die at the time of laying

eggs. After the seventh hen dies, he predicted my mum would

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A Seat on the Train

have the child. Over a period of about two weeks all the hens

died except for one which the family thought did not have an

egg. On a Sunday morning, my mother went into labor and

delivered me at home. That same morning they found the last

hen had died and had indeed laid the last egg. That difficult

delivery was followed by a period of convulsive attacks that

will not end till about a year later. For a person from the Fanti

tribe in Ghana, a tribal mark on the cheek is not a sign of tribal

identification, but a mark of the person being treated for

convulsions. In my case, my mother would not allow anyone

to put a cut on my face. So the cut was placed on my scalp and

medicinal herbs administered to treat the convulsions.

I asked my mother if she believed I would not have made it had

her family not done what the herbalist asked them to do. She

answered with a couple of questions; “Why did a prophet in

the Bible asked the people of Israel to walk seven times around

the walls of Jericho before they could destroy it? Why did a

man called Jesus spit in dirt and rubbed it in a blind man’s eyes

for him to see? ” It seems fate will have it so and hence that

is how it must be. I personally do not understand why I had

to go through this entire ordeal just to be here. Even more

perplexing is why am I here and why are you here? For me,

the search for answers to that question was chanced upon on

one afternoon in secondary school.

On that fateful afternoon, in the summer of my last year in

secondary school, I stood in the middle of the room for about

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A Seat on the Train

ten minutes, starring at the mirror. As my fingers felt the mark

on my scalp, I knew providence was reminding me that I had

been lucky. From the childhood convulsions, the battle with

German measles, several bouts with bilharzia and episodes

of malaria with my violent allergic reactions to quinone, I

stood in front of the mirror lucky indeed. Go ahead, touch

your face, feel the contours of your face, I thought to myself.

Tears have f lowed down this face many times this day and

will probably overwhelm it days to come. There are indeed

going to be ridges and wrinkles years to come that would

undoubtedly tell a story, a story that would only belong to me

and no one else. But on this day, it is the gaping hole on my

forehead that had captured my attention. I am not sure what

I had just gone through, but I am content and, maybe, lucky to

be alive. I asked the doctor why I could only see through my

right eye, but total pitch black darkness in the left eye. Before

he answered, I prayed to God just to find the time later on to

cry more, because I needed to.

He asked me to take a few steps forward as the nurses let

go of my hand. I took two steps and fell hopelessly to the

ground. As they helped me up, the doctor asked me how I

felt. All I wanted to do was to finish my homework and finish

a book I had been reading before the accident. It took me the

next three months to fully recover from the head injury that

almost killed me, as the doctors later told my mother. Luckily,

the infection that followed did not result in blindness as the

doctors had feared.

6

This Life

~ The Afters ~

I come in to tuck in.

I'm so tired from where

I've been, Doing all I can to stay awake.

As he goes on about the day, I hang on every word

said.

He reaches out and puts a hand in mine.

For a moment, we are here together.

And it hits me that this

won't last forever.

We can't own it

We just get to hold it for a while.

This Life.

We can't keep it Or save it for another time.

This Life.

He was always there for

me. Now he's fighting just to breathe.

I tell him it's ok to let go.

As I look into his eyes,

I know that this won't be

the last time. But for now, we're taking

different roads.

What we give is all we

have.

How we love is what will last.

And this hope we know

will carry us through this life.

What we give is all we

have.

A Seat on the Train

What I had just gone through was only

a reminder of just how much my life

had depended on providence and the

goodwill of other people around me.

I had never met my childhood angel

before and as I look back now, I cannot

even recall his face, but I remember

the man smiled a lot. His voice comes

through loud and clear even today,

having left a memory that my life

depends on to this day. What I know

is that he was my friend Kenneth’s

father. As I lay in the dormitory room

dying with no one able to understand

my pain or explain why my head had

swollen overnight, that man had the

courage or, should I say the heart, to

come in, demanding to see me. The

footsteps vibrated like a series of steel

thumps through my head. As

deafening as the sounds were, I knew

my help was here.

The goodwill of man is indeed a

life’s reality I have come to believe in

as necessary for my life to be

fruitfully lived. After all who can live

in this world alone if it were not for the fact

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A Seat on the Train

that there are other souls on life’s journey? I am here

because you are here. And you are here because I am here.

That is the one thing my angel understood. As the teachers

at my boarding house tried to convince him that I would be

taken back to the hospital where the infected sutures had

been used on my head wounds, he demanded my luggage be

packed up. I don’t even remember the four hour journey. The

first realization I had that I was indeed not in the boarding

house, was the loud scream of a woman who happened to be

my mother. That very night I was rushed to a hospital, staffed

mostly by German doctors, almost another two-hour journey

from the small town we lived in. Upon arrival at the hospital,

I was taken directly to the operating room around about mid-

night for surgery.

For the second time in my childhood, I was being reminded

that indeed I had been given a seat in life that I ought to

cherish because it is literally worth my life. In fact, it could

cost it. Years before in another small village in Africa, I had

been reminded of the same goodness of man after being

pulled out of a flood by a stranger who to this day I do not

know who he is. I had tried to cross the Offin river that had

flooded across a bridge in Dunkwa, a small village in West

Africa. I must have been about 6 years old; hardly big enough

to be out by myself to a soccer game. All I remember is being

swept out off the bridge out to the depths of the river. As I

fought to stay afloat, suddenly a hand grabbed my wrist and

pulled me out of the rough waters. Next thing I knew I was

home all wrapped up in bed with several people, including my

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A Seat on the Train

parents, all around me. What happened on that memorable

day was all the confirmation I needed to trust in the goodness

of humanity and be convinced that I had a reason to be here.

Maybe the question of “why am I here?” is the wrong question

to ask because, after all, I am here because someone decided

to have a child. I am here because someone felt a need to have

a child. That is a fact of life. The mystery however is that, even

though someone decided to have a child, it did not have to

be wrapped in a consciousness of an existence that is me. It

could have been of a consciousness that is not me. So, a better

question to ask, however, is “What is it that I am supposed to

do now that I am here? What am I supposed to get done in

this life? For what purpose have I been given a place on this

journey? For what purpose have I been given the benefit of

days, nights, and years?”

I am here because you are here.

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THE R EASON FOR THE JOUR NEY

During my time at the hospital, the sense of a reason to be is

what kept my will and sights beyond the immediate challenge

that I faced. All I remember during that time was just the sheer

desire and will to go back to the things I loved to do. While I

strove to get well, little did I know that faith had guided me

through the most difficult moment in my life. This was my first

realization that faith to live begins with a conviction that I have

a reason to see tomorrow and the sun rise.

This life I have, and the life you have began with a seat, a place

in life that providence assigned to each of us on this train I

call life’s journey. You may have been in a rush to get on life’s

train with an early birth or like me, been late getting on it.

But like a train we rush to catch at the station - whether in

New York, London, Calcutta, Nairobi, Tokyo or Gdansk - once

it leaves the station, it usually does not matter whether we

left behind our phones, our make-up or our best outfit. It

does not even matter the outfit we donned for the journey.

All I have is what I make do with on the journey. In much the

same way, I find myself in a seat from a part of the world with

chronic poverty, a part of the world where it is tough to make

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One Life

~James Morrison~

When I was a young boy I was living for the

moment. The world was

wide open. I had every choice. But so many

choices I just didn't know

what to do now

If you tell me I'll regret it

Let it be what it is 'Cause it's so easy to say

If I knew yesterday what I

know today. Where will I be tomorrow. Won't let my

soul slide away. I'd do

whatever it takes 'Cause this time's only borrowed

My daddy He said, "Son, it's probably time To start

making some plans" I said

"No, not right now"

So many choices

If I knew yesterday what I

know today. Where would

I be tomorrow. Won't let my soul slide away And

do whatever it takes

You say the more you

think you know what's

right The less you do what you feel inside. So I won't

pretend that I always know

When I'm an old man

Hope I'll be rocking in my

chair. Smiling to myself I'll tell my baby girl, you

only got one life

So make sure you live it

right

The Reason for the Journey

ends meet and where life still feels closer

to the beginnings of man. Whether I am

tall or short, whether I have a big nose or

a small nose, whether I am black, white or

brown or whether I was born in Siberia,

Africa, or Karachi, a gift was put in my

sack. Mine may have taken a little longer

to stuff, but nevertheless something was

placed in my core. And much like there is

no turning back after the train has left

the station, there is no turning back to

change who and what I am or the folks I

have taken my seat next to. All I have for

the journey are where I sit and more

important the gift in my sack – it is a gift

of faith that I am going to need for this

journey. This is the conviction that began

to emerge as I continued to recover from

my head injury.

Undoubtedly, what is going to take me

through the difficult times on this train is

going to depend on my own desire and

will to take the journey. This is also what

is going to allow me to take the steps I

know how, the steps that form the basis of

the faith necessary for me to find and

complete that for which I am here – what I

call my fate.

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The Reason for the Journey

To understand the beginnings of my thinking during these

years, I had to dig deep and face difficult questions I had

about the culture I found myself in. I was born to a father from

the mountainous region of the Akuapem tribe whose passion

had taken him to the timber-shipping docks of Takoradi, on

the west coast of Africa, where he met my mother. That is

where the journey began and that’s where the story began

for me.

The question I kept asking myself each day is “why am I here?”

Why am I on this journey, at this point in time in the history

of the world? Why was I given this particular seat in life? Why

was I born an African? This is a great mystery that humanity

tries to answer century after century since the beginning of

time, but after years and years, there is still no certainty why

you and I are here on this journey.

These are the questions that preoccupied my mind in those

days. Feeling as if I have been awakened from a great slumber,

I came back to school more aware of my place in life, but with

a bit more sense of purpose. I wanted to come to terms with

the sense of uncertainty about my future that was beginning

to emerge.

This quest for an answer to why we are all here is what has

also led to the creation of the many religions and scriptural

writings we have today. In spite of these many writings, we

still do not know the answer. What these religions do though

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The Reason for the Journey

is to appeal to the gift of faith we already have in hopes that

we may defer knowing till the hereafter. That probably is

helpful to me so the unknown does not become a distraction,

preventing you and me from living a profitable life. Indeed,

an obsession with the chase for answers can make life itself

a distraction that can waste our lives.

Of course, there are those who may disagree with me and

assert that we do indeed know the reason we are here. The

answer such folks provide is that we are here to ultimately

go to heaven, reach nirvana, become a martyr, or to reach

the next level of higher existence. If that is the case, then

that is the most inefficient waste of time on a journey I have

ever heard off, because we can skip all this nonsense and be

transformed here and now. If I may just remind us of what the

prophet Jeremiah spoke of that is found in the Jewish canon,

the Bible and the Koran; that God has pre-determined the times

and places where people should live, and that he did that so they

might search for him and perhaps find him. That might be all

well and good, but life is not a hide-and-seek game between

us and providence. The core of what Jeremiah said means we

ought to take careful note of the places and times we show up

because that’s where the answer is most likely to be found.

For now, the short answer to the mystery is simply “we do

not know why we are here, but we have a reason to be here”.

If you have a garden and you have a rose in that garden, then

why do you choose to plant a rose? Why do you plant lilies in

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The Reason for the Journey

that corner and a hibiscus in the back? The f lowers will shed

their leaves, will go through the seasons, and will wither

away someday. New seedlings will grow to replace them,

you will continue to prune them, but there will always be

the question “why did you choose to design your garden the

way it looks? ” The simple answer will be because it is the

design you find beautiful at that moment in time. For you,

the lilies and the roses have a role to play for the garden to

look as beautiful as it does. An added necessity is the fact

that they also provide the source for the bees to pollinate the

countless number of beautiful f lowers yet to bud. Ultimately,

the plants shed their leaves, die and give birth to offshoots

and seedlings, over and over again, all as part of an ecosystem

without which the cycle will not exist. That is an incredible

beauty that gives meaning to life, but not without all that exist

as part of that puzzle. Similarly with us, we exist because

there is an ecosystem called humanity. All I need to do is to

step back through my family tree about four generations back

to quickly recognize that I have absolutely no idea who those

relatives are. It amazes me, however, to know that there were

only about 300 million people in the world in 1100 and yet

we have over 6 billion today. Certainly you and I stand in the

same garden and the generations unknown to us, are indeed

the generations we share.

So, why are we on this journey? I do not know, but like the lily

in the garden, you have a place here for the simple reason that

you and I complete the design that is this life and the story

that is this train.

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The Reason for the Journey

There will be many stops on this train, many opportunities

to get off a station before the train reaches my destination. I

may even be tempted to jump off when times get tough. One

thing for sure, you and I may never know how we got a seat

on this train, but we should never doubt why we are here.

The question to ask then is what will it take for you and me

to wake up each day to continue the journey on this train?

That morning, as I stared in the mirror, it suddenly dawned

on me that this face that I see in the mirror, is all I have and

it is the only testament that nature has given me a seat, an

identity to a voice, my aspirations and my dreams, much like

it’s done for you. Without this face, how different would my

life be? What would I have believed about the world and how

would I have lived each day? As I felt the wound on my face

and felt the mark on my scalp, I became fully convinced that

I had a reason to be here, I had a place to get to, and I had

something to achieve. Since the gods have everything and

have no self-need for a mere mortal like me to fulfill, I have to

believe that what I have to achieve has no other benefit than

to benefit those who have also taken their seats on this train.

As I think about what I went through with the head injury,

there is still something about it that baffles me. I am sure

you probably also think about times you have been through

difficulties and have wondered “why me”? I cannot exist alone

in this world, and neither can you. As much as I have depended

on the goodness of others, others also have depended

on my goodness. There is no better way to illustrate this

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The Reason for the Journey

interdependency than the story of the little boy who was

saved from death by what one woman unbeknown to him

did. The boy was dying of meningitis in the midst of winter

and kept staring at a dying leaf through his bedroom window.

His hope was just to live as long as the leaves, at least to

see the last leaf fall before he dies. When the grandma got

wind of what he was thinking, unbeknown to the boy, every

morning the grandma would climb up a ladder in the frigid

cold to repaint the last dying leaf and hold it together to keep

it around a little longer. That kept the boy fighting on and on

till the first leaves of spring began to bloom again. By then the

boy had gained his strength back and had fully recovered. A

few weeks after, the grandma died of pneumonia. The faith

of a child in what was unseen to him had delivered him from

death. He was lucky to have been born to that grandma and

lucky to have found the object of his faith. In reality, he was

saved because of the faith of the grandma. In the goodness

of the grandma, we find faith and faith finds its substance in

the opportunity providence had provided for the grandma to

fulfill the purpose for which she shared the time and space

with this little boy.

Years before my injury, when I was only about 7 years old,

I had pneumonia that had become so critical every breath

came with an intense pain. Two of my childhood best friends

who lived across the street would cross the street almost

every afternoon to come and play with me. The brothers were

twins, full of life. They would bring toys and play with me as I

was recovering. It was the day I fully felt I had recovered that

16

Fragile Heart

~ Yolanda Adams~

I remember the first time

You laughed with me I remember the promises

You would never leave my

side Now I'm standin' with

news of a tragedy

Standin' here with a fragile heart

See I never shed a tear I stayed strong for them,

When everybody

disappears it's only you that keeps me strong

I can't imagine goin' on

without you in my life

When I think about, think

about life Lord I think of You, I forget about

everything else there's only You and I

I can't think about ever

givin' up can't give up the fight. The only thing that

matters Lord is You

I know You're in good

hands the same hands that

hold my heart And I'll cherish every

moment that we've spent

As a gift from God above for He takes care of all

fragile hearts

So I'm trustin' You Lord to

see me through, givin' up

can't givin' up the fight

Read more: Yolanda

Adams - Fragile Heart

Lyrics | MetroLyrics

The Reason for the Journey

both of them came over and, in

excitement asked that we go to their

house to play. Their father was looking

forward to seeing me, they said. I asked

my mother for permission to go across

the street to play and it was granted. I

was ecstatic. So, the three of us hopped

along.

As we had always done in the past, we

would carefully time the traffic f low and

ran as quickly as we could whenever it

seemed safe to do so. The elder of the

twin was the first to try and cross the

street. He was meant to be here. He was

really meant to be here, but the only

memory I am left with is the sight of his

father in a white shirt drenched in blood

as he clung to the lifeless body of the little

angel who had kept me company in

sickness. The little boy could have been

me.

The only miracle that have given me

comfort to my conviction that he was and

is meant to be is the fact that his younger

brother who was born about a year after

his death also bore a birth mark on his neck exactly as he did.

17

The Reason for the Journey

Providence works with and only through man. Regardless

of what you may believe, nothing happens to us and for us

without another person’s involvement. This is what the

goodness of man is all about and without it, you and I will

never avail ourselves of the gift of faith.

A week after I got back to school, I went to see the headmaster

of the school and demanded that I be exempt from all courses

that had no significance for my future. That simply meant

staying away from courses I did not deem purposeful. Even

though I had no idea what the future held for me, I just

had become very intolerant to engaging in any endeavor I

felt was a waste of my precious time. That intolerance to

things I perceived to be time-wasters almost got me into

trouble few years after my hospitalization. I got involved

in a protest against the school administration over what I

considered unnecessary hassles that made it difficult to go

to the dining hall and be back in time for evening studies.

During the protest that ensued at the dining hall, I threw an

unidentified f lying object, which turned out to be a plate, at

the principal. I was called to the principal’s office and, instead

of outright suspension or dismissal from the school, I was

told, in uncertain terms, not to even think of applying to sixth-

form unless I intended to get a Grade 1 with Distinction.

That was again the goodness and kindness of man being

shown to me and Grade 1 with Distinction is exactly what I

got, with all credit to the principal who reminded me of why

I had to live a life worthy of the seat. There is a reason for the

18

The Reason for the Journey

journey and, with this mercy shown to me, I was reminded

that it is about the seat.

19

THE GREATEST GIFT EVER GIVEN

The afternoon I was discharged from the hospital, my

mother had an hour long chat with me. I imagined she wanted

to find out if I had a sense of what I had just gone through.

Apparently, there were only two likely outcomes if the

bleeding in my head had not ceased - death or, at least, some

level of brain damage. I felt well, not because I had physically

recovered, but because I had opened my eyes to find the

storm had passed. Something deep inside me had carried me

through. Something I never thought I had in me, had given me

a chance at life.

This is why I have come to believe that every person has a

basic sense of their fate and a level of inner strength that

affords each person a chance at life. While that inner strength

is something that needs to be unraveled, the sense of fate is

just a perpetual opportunity for a “life at chance”, because

what I had just gone through left me with a perpetual wonder

on what could be next. I am not promised tomorrow, but I am

guaranteed a future should my eyes be opened tomorrow.

Getting to tomorrow, in a world fraught with unknowns

much beyond my control, is what tests what’s within me. Fear,

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The Greatest Gift Ever Given

anticipation, hope, and uncertainties will all visit each single

night as I close my eyes. For who knows tomorrow’s outcome

of the next step I take or the next decision I make?

When I came back to school, one of the interesting classes

that captured my imagination was an exploratory bible

knowledge class, in which I had an opportunity to explore the

philosophical aspects of biblical writings. I was not religious

but I had a curiosity in what I read because I felt it had

interesting stories that could help me as I tried to understand

my reasons for being. In the absence of a rich folklore and a

tradition of telling stories that are philosophical and didactic

in nature, I ended up gravitating towards biblical stories to

fill in the gaps. One such story is what is told of a Jewish man

called Jesus.

It is said that the greatest gift a man could give is to lay his

life down for his neighbor. This is a core tenet of Christian

teachings, the basis of which is the fact that a Nazarene

called Jesus, who lived about 2000 years ago, was killed by

the Romans on a crucifix. That death, according Christian

teaching, represents an unprecedented demonstration of

love for you and me. This was and is meant as a sacrifice

for the sins and misdeeds of everyone, who so chooses to

participate, to be forgiven irrespective of the fact that some

of us might have chosen to slaughter the Romans instead. I

was taught that the act itself demonstrates the ultimate love

a man can have for his fellow man and it is held up as the

ultimate example of love. However, for this to be a reality,

21

I Believe

~Christina Perri~

I believe if I’d knew where I was going, I’d lose my

way.

I believe that the words that he told you are not

your grave.

I know that we are not the

weight of all our

memories.

I believe in the things that I am afraid to see.

Hold on.

I believe in the lost

possibilities you can’t see. And I believe that the

darkness reminds us where

light can be. I know that your heart is

still beating, beating

I believe that you fell so you can land next to me.

‘cause I've been where you

are before, And I have felt the pain of

losing who you are,

And I have died so many times but I am still alive.

I believe that tomorrow is stronger than yesterday.

And I believe that your

head is the only thing in your way.

I wish that you could see your scars are linked of

beauty.

I believe that today it’s okay to be not okay.

This is not the end of me, This is the beginning.

Hold on

I am still alive

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

even the Nazarene had to trust in the

goodness of man to respond to what

he did. While that is the greatest gift

a man can give to another, I believe

however that the greatest gift ever

given to man by providence is faith,

the capacity to believe and to act on

that which is beyond us. This gift is

ultimately what makes it possible to

even accept the greatest love ever

shown to man.

The gift of faith in me has grown

stronger with age because my

parents, and the faces of the people I

have seen growing up, have helped

shape that inner strength I had to

discover. The summers I would visit

the villages with my father as he

toiled on behalf of the local cocoa

farmers taught me something

incredible about this gift. He worked

each day tirelessly to make sure the

farmers were paid a fair price for

their harvest. He had been

stationed deep inside the Brong-

Ahafo region of Ghana. The area was

known for its lush green, thick forest.

22

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

I must have been about 10 years old the summer my mother

shipped me to spend my last primary school vacation with

him. I remember being dropped off on the corner of a dirt

road and then walking about half a mile to the cocoa depot

where the farmers would usually bring their crop to be sold.

The village had no lights and the only water available had to

be drawn from wells. On several occasions the laborers,

who worked with my father, would volunteer to take me

to the outdoor mobile cinema whenever it came to the

village. We would normally walk a little under a mile,

lantern in hands through beaten paths to get to the open park

where the movies were being shown. I do not remember the

names of the movies we saw, but I do remember the words

of the laborers as I walked behind them. There were a lot of

stories they told me about my father, how much he had helped

the villagers, how much he cared about them and how much

they trusted him.

I have to commend the fortitude of my mother who always

made sure the children felt safe and protected. While I

lived with my mother and siblings in Ashanti New Town, a

neighborhood right behind the palace of the Ashanti King

in Kumasi, two Ashanti Kings died. In ancient times, it was

believed that the executioners in the King’s palace would

always carry out a tradition of human sacrifices that often

was believed to be a way to send servants to help the dead

king travel on his journey. The ceremony of burying the king

is usually shrouded in secrecy and often happened under

23

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

cover of darkness. Whether it was true or false, kids were

warned not to be out late at night. I do, however, remember

the men who came over on two occasions with other men

from the Denkyira king, Boamponsem III, who happened to

be my parents’ best friend. After each visit, my mother would

gather my siblings and me behind closed doors, and break the

news of the death of a king, news which usually had not been

announced. We were then put under curfew till the burial was

over. I have no idea what was done on the day of burial but I

can never forget the sound of drums, the incessant barking of

the neighborhood dogs, and the occasional sound of gunfire

the nights the burials took place. I was a child but the mother

who had me was always there through it all.

I have seen men with guns come looking for my father

during the violent years of the military coups in Ghana. In

fact, I remember the day several former heads of states were

executed by firing squad, because it rained and thundered

quite heavily. I cannot forget thinking that nature itself

moaned with thunder whenever great men fell. I have never

known my father to be afraid to stand up for what he believed

was right. However, it was the stories the laborers told me

about my father that taught me, at that very young age, about

his incredible capacity for truth and a moral imperative to

do what is right that drove the strength of his faith. Most

men, at great times of peril, can rise up to face truth and

do what is morally right. However, this will be so only if

24

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

the little moments in our lives when we have no reason to

be truthful, are the moments we indeed do what is true.

My father taught me to have trust in the goodness of man,

because he showed me how my capacity for truth would

reveal my gift of faith. When I came out of the hospital after

my head injury, that capacity for truth and a propensity

to do what is right became a guiding principle of how I

approach life.

There is a parable told by Jesus, as written by one of his

men, which sheds great insight into the nature of this gift

of faith. Unfortunately, this happens to be one of the most

misunderstood parables in Christian teachings today. It is the

story of a man who gives different measure of wealth to three

of his servants before he embarks on a journey. Upon his

return, he takes stock of what each servant had done with the

money given to them. All of his servants, except for one, put

the money to work and profitably returned it to the master.

The one who did not use it profitably cited his fear of losing

it as the reason for not doing anything with the money. This

servant also happened to be the servant who got the least

wealth. In fact, the master goes on to describe him as a wicked

servant which is a pretty hash characterization of what he

did. After all, he did not get as much as the others did. So why

should the master call him wicked? Did the others not have

so much that they could afford to put more at risk? There is

a measure of faith that has been given to me and it is the

possible outcomes, at the end of my life, of what I have

25

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

been given, that this parable illustrates. There is one thing

and absolutely one thing that will render this gift of faith

useless and my seat on this journey wasted - fear. The master

called the one who hid the money wicked for one specific

reason. He failed to recognize the capacity, the potential and

promise inherent in what he was given. His reason, he was

afraid of failure. Could you imagine the assurance the story

would have given to us about the power of providence, had his

meager gift multiplied more than that of those who had more?

My mother and father never taught me fear. So, I am blessed to

have the gift, however little or big, for this journey. However, I

must admit, the difficulty in often understanding where, why,

and when I may have to get off this train, is the singular thing

that keeps my eyes open. I can never allow the fear of that

uncertainty to make me so pre-occupied with myself as to not

use the gift. Undoubtedly, there will be many stops, someday

night will fall, and I will have to step off the train and close

my eyes. My hope is that I would never despair before my stop

and when my stop comes, I pray that I would have spent my

days to double the faith that is within my core.

What I had and have is what made my recovery possible and

it is the greatest gift ever given to me. I must confess though

that my head injury left me wondering quite intensely about

my future. Many nights I wondered what dreams I would

have. Would I ever attend a university? How would I earn

a living? Who would I marry if I decided to? Indeed, these

were the fears I closed my eyes each night to shut out. Yes,

26

The Greatest Gift Ever Given

uncertainty, hope, anxiety may visit, but as I pray each night,

it is fear that I close my eyes to shut out and this may be why

the gift means so much to me. I need to wake up here.

27

NOT WITHOUT FAITH

For the many years I have lived this life, not a day passes

that I am not reminded of a child losing its life because of the

carelessness or wickedness of a trusted adult. All you have to

do is pick up a local newspaper in any part of the world and

not long you are bound to discover that cold reality. What do

these children do to deserve such an unfortunate seat on this

train?

Living is a dangerous exercise, challenging at different levels

for each of us. Unfortunately, I did not take my place in life with

a How-To manual and, contrary to what you or I might think,

none of the religious writings, including the Bible, is a manual

for life. People were here and lived before these writings ever

came into existence. I may have my beliefs, you may have the

Bible, another may have the Koran, yet another the Zoran and

other writings, and some may even claim to speak directly to

the gods, but the fact is you and I can still live our lives without

these writings. Why is this important to note?

I returned to school after two months in the hospital to find

that life was still going on, classes were still being taught and

28

Not Without Faith

final exams still around the corner. Somewhere in my heart, I

had quietly wished the world had changed, may be for all of it

to have made a bit of sense. It did not take long for me to come

to the conviction that my life has no playbook, but life itself

does and it goes on whether I am here or not. This is where

it became obvious to me that even when you are convinced

you have the secret, it does not change the fact that the train

we are on will get to where it’s supposed to get to. For the

first time in my life, I had become aware of a future I needed

to anticipate and, for the first time, there was a feeling of

vulnerability and anxiety about my future. What I had been

through, what I believed and whoever I had become does not

change the fact about where I came from and where I am

headed. Whether I find the path or not, it still leads to where

it’s meant to lead. And one of such places the path led me to

is the courage I needed to forgive the one whose carelessness

led to my head injury. Forgive, I had to. These are the thoughts

that occupied most of my nights as I tried to pick up where

I had left off. I needed more to take me beyond this if I am

supposed to be here on the train.

Life just cannot be lived without that gift of faith. That is a

fact of the human situation. The fascinating thing about this

gift is that it has absolutely nothing to do with my belief or

lack of belief in any religion. The religious writings the world

has are nothing but inspirational guide lights that shine in

the dark so you and I may make it through the dark without

losing our way. They offer us encouragement at moments of

29

Not Without Faith

need, helping us rekindle a passion for the gift, so we might

act to realize the purpose for which we are here.

The Bible, the Koran and most religious writings are primarily

a compendium of experiences and stories of how others have

lived out their gifts, in search of a meaning and the purpose

for the seat they hold. So, when I study these writings, all I am

doing is taking a rear-view-mirror experience that puts my

view of my faith’s possibilities in a box. I refuse to be limited

by the boundaries of faith I read about. The fact is these people

of faith had no such writings and could probably not care, but

yet they had a drive for life that has left us with an invaluable

volume of inspiration. An inspiration, the usefulness of which

is to remind us of why and what our seats are about. I have to

live each day, knowing that I do so because of the gift I have

been given and I have to do so profitably.

As much as I would like to think I am special because of what I

believe, I never lose sight of the fact that before these writings

existed, men lived and had faith. Others have gone through

and overcome more daunting challenges in their lives before

these various writings came to be. Strangely enough, paying

close attention and having strict adherence to these writings

are often what will hold you and me back from accomplishing

what we are destined for. This tends to be so because the

writings have these seductive mysteries that can become an

object of our obsession to the point that we fail to live our own

lives. I have to live my story.

30

Not Without Faith

So, with these thoughts, in a world of wickedness and hurt

visited upon the innocent, I have to endeavor to believe that my

gift matters in the face of the harsh realities of life. I also can

never lose sight of the sheer dispensability of my seat. Unless

I hold on to the gift, the speed and readiness with which the

world around me would forget the reality of me will alone be

enough to force me off the train. The interesting thing about any

train though is that as it stops at each station, a lot more people

seem to get off than are able to get on. There may be twenty

people who get off, but somehow only about four or so find a

way to fit on. The reason is that as people get off, those left on

the train are more than willing to fill the void left behind. In the

same way, the world would not miss you and me if we left the

stage today. In fact, my seat will be taken up quicker than I can

ever imagine. What happens after you and I are gone is none of

our business. To put it bluntly, no one gives a damn about your

opinion or mine after we have left the scene. If you and I want

people to care after, then we ought to live out our gift of faith.

There are three specific things that I believe make it difficult to

live up to the promise of faith; fear, self-preservation, and the

coldness of men’s heart. There is nothing that kills faith like

our own fear, fear of failure, fear of others and just plain fear

of the unknown. The fact of the matter is that fear is always a

struggle from within. Allowing fear to persist within me just

means I refuse to find a way to live out the calling of my faith.

Then there is self-preservation, which shows itself in the form

of how we relate to people and the justifications we peddle to

31

Not Without Faith

ourselves to maintain a pretense of certainty about our seat.

My second time at the hospital strangely enough happened

to be at the same hospital where negligence in the operating

room almost ended my life years later. It was the memory of

a little girl in a red dress that kept me fighting. I had lost a lot

of blood when my mother rushed me to the emergency room

at the children’s ward. Soon after I was checked in, a family

came to see a little girl who was in the bed next to me. Each

night, as the lights went out we will whisper to each other in

the dark till we both fell asleep. The day she was discharged,

she had on a beautiful red dress and that memory of her, as

she looked that day captured the imagination of this little

boy and inspired me to fight through till I got well. I was

determined to see her again and, unbeknown to me, that is

a faith’s wish I needed. Such are the things unseen I cannot

live without.

Coming out of my head injury was the third time I had been

in the operating room. The previous times were equally

difficult moments, but it was after this third time that I found

a reason not to belong just for the sake of identity. That lack

of a tendency to belong gave rise to a sense of independence

that has come to shape my outlook on life. What mattered

to me about people was the spirit within them that I can

embrace. That is how I began to discover the ways my mother

and father had instilled in me and I had witnessed at home.

If a person came across as if they were better than others, I

usually let them be so I could focus on those who saw a need

for others. So, after I returned to school, I began to look at

32

Not Without Faith

friendships as necessary associations to pursue life. Amazing

things happen when one recognizes why we are here with

others. For the next three years, I went from being almost last

in a class of about fifty-four to first in the class as I learned

from others who equally wanted to learn from me. It was all

about being worthy of the seat.

Self-preservation is a fundamental prejudice that exists in all

of us and has the potential to invalidate the seat we hold. It is

harmful to the gift inside and its effects are felt most keenly

in the area of race. Have you ever wondered why you are of

a certain race and others have a different race? Why are you

White, Black, Asian, etc? The reality is when you and I leave

the train, the proof of life or proof of who we say we are or

whether we had a seat or not, has nothing to do with our

skin color. The only evidence of our existence that demands

a verdict is the witnesses to our memories and that which is

documented. The fact of the matter is when we do a historical

search of a person, it is the addresses, where they lived, what

relationships they had with others and what they did in the

places documented that we look to establish their identity.

How different I am from the next person does not establish

or validate me.

Differences in people have nothing to do with the seat they

have taken in life, but more to do with the role and purpose

providence has set them up for. No one had a choice in their

own life’s package. In the rush to get on the train, I took

33

Not Without Faith

the package that I was meant to have. You and I could very

well have come as different races than we are today. The

temptation to preserve that which is temporal and only a

mirage of whom we really are is what reveals our lack of

recognition of the gift. The stereotypes and prejudices that

persist in society then feed into these temptations, creating

fundamental stumbling blocks that make it difficult for you

and I to realize the innate potential embedded in the gift

itself. You and I have it and without it, we risk losing it all.

It is with the conviction that I had something special that

no one can take away from me that I began to dream about

my own future. And so, one late night, in the quietness of

the night in my dormitory room at the boarding house, I

took a nail and etched into the wall “a nuclear engineer slept

here”. I was not surprised when years later I found myself

in a nuclear engineering doctorate program as a graduate

student at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT).

The mother who went through so much to make sure I am

here is the mother who set this simple wish alight. As I shared

with her that quiet wish, she took off a scarf she had tied

around her waist, rolled out a wad of cash, and asked me how

much it would cost to sit for the required admissions test.

She believed in me. She understood the dream. Even when I

made what I thought was a fatal mistake, submitting a strip

of a cartoon story I had made instead of required essays, the

woman still had each letter trekked over three hour journeys

to be delivered to me at the boarding school.

34

Not Without Faith

My mother came to see me off at the airport when I first left

Ghana as an eighteen year old to study at MIT. As I said my

final goodbye to board the plane, she could not stop crying.

I had never flown on an airplane before then and yet there

was a lot of excitement I looked forward to. If I was overtly

confident of what lay ahead of me then it was only because of

what had happened that afternoon before I got to the airport.

My mother, knowing what had happened to her own brothers

as they had travelled to study abroad, was not about to take

chances with her son’s life. That afternoon she took me to see

a man in one of the suburbs of Accra. I had never seen this

man before and I thought it was just an ordinary visit, but it

was not. For about an hour, I knelt in front of this man as he

prayed and recited what I believe were verses from the book

of Psalms. He then gave me a simple advice – “as you travel to

embark on your studies, do not ever entertain alcohol in your

affairs, else it will kill your dreams and destroy you”.

The advice the man gave me that afternoon lifted a veil

that, for the first time, opened my mind’s eye to what had

happened with two classmates in boarding school. These two

classmates tragically got off life’s train, at a stop before the

night had fallen at their journey’s end. They were kids who

laughed and had so much to look forward to because they

were from such good homes. The painful memory of losing

these two high school friends very early in life still haunts

me today. When I think about how they left us, I am often left

wondering if they had indeed buried that gift. Vadis and Pippis

35

Your Song

It's a little bit funny, this

feeling inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide

I don't have much money,

but boy if I did I'd buy a big house where

we both could live

If I was a sculptor, but then

again, no, Or a man who

makes potions in a traveling show

I know it's not much, but

it's the best I can do My gift is my song, and

this one's for you

And you can tell

everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind, I

hope you don't mind that I

put down in words

How wonderful life is now

you're in the world

But the sun's been quite

bright while I wrote this song. It's for people like

you that keep it turned on

And you can tell

everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I

put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words

How wonderful life is

while you're in the world

Read more: Elton John -

Your Song Lyrics |

MetroLyrics

Not Without Faith

were best friends and very good

friends of mine in boarding school.

However, for a reason only known

to providence, they took to

drinking very early in their teens

while we were in boarding school.

By the time we graduated they had

become such heavy drinkers of

hard liquor that it was rare to find

them sober for more than a day. In

the end they both died, one of liver

failure and the other of cardiac

arrest. They died at a time when

their lives had hardly begun. I

would never know why they took

the path they did, but I am

convinced the outcome would have

been different had they recognized

how blessed they were with a gift

of faith. I am so grateful to the man

who prayed for me that afternoon. I

may never know his name and I

may never ever meet him again, but

his last words to me have been a

constant memory that has kept me

away from ever trying drinking as

even a social sport.

36

Not Without Faith

That night, I got on a British Airways f light to Boston,

unaccompanied to a place across the Atlantic I had no

imagination of. Throughout the entire f light, the one song I

kept listening to was “Your Song” by Elton John. Somewhere

in the middle of the f light I opened the shades and peeked

outside. What I saw for the first time in my existence made me

cry; a sight I could never have imagined from where life had

began for me. As the words in the song go “How wonderful life is

when you’re in the world” and I am so grateful to my parents and

everyone whose face I had beheld till then because those faces

are what made the words of the song affirm my faith to dream.

It was not long before I was reminded again that the gift is

indispensable if I want to see my dream become a reality. On

my third night in the United States, I took a stroll down Vassar

Street in Cambridge, a street that goes through MIT’s campus,

to see Central Square. As I walked down, a car pulled up with

a group of kids inside screaming profanity at me. They spoke

too fast for me to comprehend what they were shouting out.

As they drove off, one hurled a beer bottle at me. Why? I

wondered. I could excuse that as just a bunch of rowdy kids

but I was a kid too and I was not brought up to behave as such.

It was going to take a lot of will and patience to live through

this in Cambridge, which later on I discovered was a more

shielded suburb of Boston than I had imagined.

In the early eighties, Boston was known for being a very

difficult city for blacks and the city itself had episodes of not

so pretty racial incidents. Its Cambridge suburb was more of

a college town so a bit more shielded from the racial tensions

37

Not Without Faith

the city was known for. I guess after all education does indeed

open the mind’s eye to see beyond the color of a man’s skin. I

had never faced racism before up until I went to Boston and

so I had no idea how it looked or sensed like. The incident on

Vassar Street, to me, was a case of a bunch of kids without

morals and without trust in the goodness of others just

being stupid. The first real test of my own values and trust in

people, however, came during my second year in school. It was

nothing significant but a series of events that would give me

a deep appreciation of the role of my faith in my own success.

In a final exam in my Thermodynamics class, I got a score of 85

out of 100, with the highest at 92. Always wanting to do my best,

I reviewed the answers again and found out I had indeed gotten

two more questions correct. I brought it up with the teaching

assistant, only to be told “you should be happy you even got 85”.

I went and complained to the professor who was a white South

African. He summoned the teaching assistant and had him

correct the score which put me at 95, making it the highest score

in the class. Later on the professor spent a few minutes with

me and explained to me some of the biases that often existed

out there and usually reflected itself in how people dealt with

each other. As if the professor was foretelling something yet to

come, I later found myself, as one of two undergraduates, with

that same teaching assistant, in MIT’s practice school graduate

program. It was during my days as part of that program that I

first encountered racism as the same teaching assistant and his

friend refused to work on a project I had been chosen to lead.

38

Let It Be Me

There may come a time A time in everyone's life

Where nothing seems to go

your way Where nothing seems to

turn out right

There may come a time

You just can't seem to find

your way

For every door you walk

on to, Seems like they get

slammed in your face

That's when you need

someone Someone that you can call

And when all your faith is

gone Feels like you can't go on

Pockets full of nothin' and you got no cash

No matter where you turn,

you ain't got no place to stand

Reach out for something

and they slap your hand

Now I remember all too

well, Just how it feels to be all alone

You feel like you'd give

anything For just a little place you

can call your own

That's when you need

someone

And when all your faith is gone

Feels like you can't go on

Let it be me

If it's a friend you need

Not Without Faith

Our attitude towards those who are

not like us invariably becomes one

of the determining factors of the

ultimate outcome of our lives. As the

good book says; the stone the

builders reject, becomes the corner

stone that holds the building

together. The people who are not

like me and how I relate to them

become the ultimate yardstick of the

usefulness of my own life. People

validate me, people validate you. In

the end, the witnesses to my life will

be the reason I will be able to close

my eyes after I have stepped off the

train. But then who will be these

witnesses to my life?

One such witness is the woman I

encountered on the subway in New

York City one fateful evening in

summer. She staggered slowly

towards where I stood as the train

approached Grand Central Station.

All I could hear is her raspy

voice, a bit squeaky and with a bit

of abrasiveness, howling at people

“Help me, I am hungry, I need food”.

A middle-aged oriental man opened his

39

Not Without Faith

wallet, took out a dollar note and handed it to her. She quickly

grabbed it, tossed it into her bag and moved on to the next

person with not much of an acknowledgement of what the

man had just done for her. For those who refused her, she

shoved briskly aside to move on to the next person. As she

approached, I felt the money in my pocket and for a moment

searched for a reason not to give her what I could afford to

give her, because I felt she was being rude. I looked into her

eyes as she asked me for money. I could not, but give her

everything I pulled out of my pocket. I wondered if she

would use the money for food or for booze and whether she

was sincere.

As I kept wondering, she had already moved on to a well-

dressed man, pleading and begging him for money. I watched

quietly, wondering what the man would do. She kept begging

as the man intently stared at her for a full minute and then

slowly he emptied his pockets and gave his coins to the

woman. That, I thought was the right thing to do. As much as

others have given me a reason to trust in the goodness of man,

I also have to give others a cause to trust in my own goodness.

You see there are a thousand and one reasons why I should

never had given money to the beggar, but there is always one

reason why I should. I could convince myself that what I give

may be used for alcohol or drugs or may perpetuate a bad

habit of begging and that may very well be the case. However,

all these reasons are just attempts to free oneself of the guilt

of not giving when providence is calling on us to meet a need.

40

Not Without Faith

Who am I to judge? If I didn’t want to give the money, then I

ought to have the heart to go buy her food, after all she said

she was hungry.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you

who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance,

the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the

world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to

eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,

I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes

and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me,

I was in prison and you came to visit me.’”

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did

we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you

something to drink? When did we see you a stranger

and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?

When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit

you?’ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever

you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters

of mine, you did for me.’ “Then he will say to those on

his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the

eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For

I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was

thirst y and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a

stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes

and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and

you did not look after me.’

41

Not Without Faith

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you

hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or

sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ “He will reply,

‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the

least of these, you did not do for me.’ “Then they will

go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to

eternal life.”

The moral of the story just told is that the world does not

need angels in disguise. I have been given a seat in this life,

with a gift of faith incredibly portioned to tell the story of

humanity. I will always have those opportunities in life to

help others in need because of where I sit. How I handle these

encounters, will determine the outcome of my life but I need

my gift of faith.

The coldness of the hearts of men is the final thing that

will render my gift ineffective if I let it. However, instead of

focusing on that, I will contrast it with the goodness of man,

without which I will never be here.

Frederick Mpare is the man to whom I owe my life, a man I

am indebted to as long as I live. He is the angel I met and it is

a memory that comforts me in the moments when I despair.

One such moment in time stands out in memory and it was

the day I had just visited cancer patients in an experimental

program I was part of in graduate school. Most of the patients

were in the last stage of hospice with no hope of alternative

remedies. My role was to help complete experimental studies

on individuals who, at any moment in time, could finally step

42

Not Without Faith

off the train and close their eyes for good. Some were in good

spirits, some laughed, and some had lost all sense of living.

The lady suffering from stage 5 lung cancer, who had to smoke

just to have a semblance of life, captivated my imagination.

That afternoon I returned to the campus and quietly wept

in my office. The memory of the one man I owed my life to is

what gave me comfort that day. On that day I understood. It

is not the dreams we seek to achieve that crowns our lives, it

is the people who bear witness to the goodness of life within

us that crown our lives. On that day I made a decision to seek

a career I love and to give up one which I had only dreamt for

myself out of selfishness. I had to turn away from the writing

on the wall where I had slept in boarding school.

I had a chance because my angel chanced upon me as I lay in a

dormitory room slowly passing away. He was here because I

was here, and I am here because he was here. That is the faith

that I cannot live without.

43

THE FAITH I SPEAK OF

I lay my head down each night, confident that I will wake

up tomorrow. I take a seat when I am offered one knowing

that it will hold me up. I am born with it. I am not the first to

have it and I won’t be the last to share it, but I am the only one

with this face and this name to hold this gift at this moment

in time. Unfortunately though, many fail to grasp the extent

of the wholeness of the faith I am talking about. So, let me

first describe the part of faith that usually comes to mind

when we speak of our existence. And then reason with me to

understand the other side of the story about this gift I speak of.

There are many religions and belief systems that have faith

as central tenets, but none can give me the faith that gave me

my face. No religion can give you and me the identity that is

us; none can give us the secrets of life known to us as well as

we know our face. I came into this world by myself and I will

leave by myself, so the faith I have is all I can count on. As

much as the Christian religion, for example, would have us

believe in going to church and all, unfortunately faith is never

a group thing and no one is going to show up at the gates of

heaven as a group.

44

The Faith I Speak Of

So what do I do with these religious writings all around me?

First thing I need to recognize is this; as much as I may not

agree, I have never lived life before and neither have you. The

train you and I are on is going to go through several turns,

valleys and hills, and stops. So first, a word of advice and

inspiration are in order. This is where the writings come into

play.

The Bible, the Quran, the Torah, the book of Mormon, and all

the spiritual writings the world has ever seen do not tell us

how to live the future, what to do each minute of our lives,

what to eat every day, and certainly cannot tell us about what

you and I are meant to accomplish in this life. These are not

How-To manuals, but they are inspired writings by others

recounting their experiences and lessons as they discover

their own gift of faith and what they have learnt of providence.

Each of the men or women behind these writings claims to

have either spoken to God or some higher power and saw it

fit to put down their inspired message. Somehow those who

came after them felt a need to compile the writings into a

book instead of adding their own stories.

I am glad these stories were compiled and as David said in the

Psalms “The Lord gave the word and great was the company of

those that published it ”. These compiled writings demonstrate

that providence indeed does speak to individuals and many

different people, as many as providence has provided a seat

for in this life. The most fascinating thing is that these

scriptural authors had faith before the writings themselves

45

The Faith I Speak Of

and accomplished whatever we read about before the writings

existed. Maybe that is why they had such clarity about the

gifts providence had bestowed on them. There were no

writings to limit their expectation, to curtail their potential

and to cap their view of life. What the writings ought to do

for us then is to inspire us, helping us preserve our gift of

faith and providing us with guiding principles that serve as

an invaluable advice as we go through life. My faith I speak of

cannot be limited by what is written.

Unfortunately for some, these writings have become a

hurdle, indomitable truth often limiting one’s ability to lead

a productive life because of an insistence on experiences

that belong to seats in distant past. The writings can limit

the possibilities of my faith if I become intoxicated with the

dogmas embedded in them. The fact is these inspirational

books do not replace the education or practical training

needed to apply my talents. They do not teach me how to make

a car, how to become a CEO, how to become a carpenter, or just

about any career I want to carry on in life. Many erroneously

cling to these writings to the complete exclusion of other body

of proven knowledge from the human experience and in the

process become useless themselves to those around them,

ever failing to reach their potential in life.

Even more detrimental to my faith are those who have set up

institutions that profit on the idea that I need a theologian, a

cleric or a man of higher learning to explain to me teachings

that were originally directed at common fishermen, farmers,

46

The Faith I Speak Of

and the average person. Hours of meditation, memorization

and studying of these scriptures, whether from men of high

learning or not, are not going to get you and I any closer to

providence than hours long of researching the reasons for life.

In the end, you and I are here to live life, to complete a journey

with a gift of faith and pre-destined responsibilities to fulfill.

The outcome of our lives and the purpose it achieves is what

will make you and I deserving of this seat. My seat has to be

worthy of the life I lead today because it is sheer madness to

even entertain an idea of wanting eternal life if the life I am

living now is not one I am proud of. The nature of my seat

today justifies me.

The world has been around millions of years and billions of

people have journeyed and are journeying through it. Faith,

amazingly enough has been there from the beginning, but has

nothing to do with some deity or god-head somewhere in the

ethos. Men and women have died for actions they took on the

basis of their faith, whether religious or non-religious. The

ancient disciples of Pythagoras, for example, thought a secret

had been revealed to them by the gods when they found the

existence of irrational numbers and the square root of the

number two. One of their own uttered it publicly and he was

thrown overboard on the high seas for revealing the secrets

of the gods.

Then again, what’s the difference between Archimedes,

almost 300 years before Jesus, proclaiming “Give me a place

to stand on and I will move the earth” and Jesus saying “if

47

Only A

Mountain

~ Jason Castro~

Another day, another fight

It always feels like an uphill climb

Another step, another mile

The story of your life It's harder than you ever

thought

And it costs you everything you've got

When you're back against

the wall And you feel like giving up

This is only a mountain You don't have to find your

way around it

Tell it to move, it'll move Tell it to fall, it'll fall

This is only a moment

You don't have to let your fear control it

You've gotta find a second wind. It's not as high as

you think it is

Don't give up and don't you quit. You gotta climb if

you wanna win

And I know it looks big

But just a little bit of faith

can change it all Change it all

There's nothing in your

way, no oh

It's only a mountain

Just a little bit of faith can change it all

The Faith I Speak Of

a man has faith as little as a

mustard seed, he can move a

mountain”. In fact, Archimedes

did move mountains and by faith

helped small armies defeat the

great Roman army at Syracuse. He

was martyred for this. The

mysteries revealed to men like

Archimedes, Einstein, Euclid,

Edison and many others who have

persevered without giving up on

what they believed creation held

for men, are nothing but mysteries

of providence. We have matured

much more in our understanding

of providence and nature as a

result of these mysteries more

than the bible or any religious book

can ever help humanity

understand. These are real

blessings from God, tangible,

obvious and unequivocal verdict of

the greatness of providence.

In fact, the Vedas, the ancient

writings from the times of the

great Indian kings, have incredible

wealth of knowledge on faith, and on both the goodness and

the evil that characterize the human spirit.

48

The Faith I Speak Of

These are inspiring writings that are more comprehensive

than even today’s religious writings. Other philosophers

(Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Confucius and many more) have

also spoken extensively about faith years before the Bible

was even put together. However, in the proximity of our

century, men like Jesus and Mohammed and their stories

seem to be the ones that have inspired many to recognize

what they already have. Move beyond our century into the

past and you find even more amazing stories of faith that

inspired many to fulfill their own purposes and live lives

worthy of the seat they got in life.

To also be able to accept and embrace the completeness of the

gift, my capacity for truth has to go beyond my appreciation

for reality. Capacity for truth means honesty with myself,

consistency in what I think, capable of correction, and truthful

in my interactions with people each day. I cannot allow any

room for storytelling in my life because it will cloud my path

and my vision in my life. Nothing has taught me more about

capacity for truth than the parents who raised me and the

household I witnessed at home. When you came home and a

neighbor had complained that one of the kids in the household

had dented their car, my father would line us all up and, in

unison, we would all apologize to the neighbor. Even when I

knew it was not me, I had to apologize because, as my dad put

it “it is either your fault or your responsibility” because you

were in the proximity.

49

The Faith I Speak Of

In my second year in my university, that capacity for truth

that buttressed my faith was severely tested. I had been

invited to a girls’ college in Wellesley, Massachusetts, to a

sorority party where I met an elegant young woman in

her third year. We started dating and got very intimate in

a matter of months, just before we went home for summer

vacations. I would never forget the phone call and the voice

that came through when her mother called me raging through

the phone. The young lady was put on the phone to talk to

me and, much to my surprise; she told me she was pregnant.

How is that possible when I had used protection? Apparently,

it did not work, she claimed. Her mother asked me what I was

going to do. I was so tempted to deny responsibility because

the young lady had also revealed to me that she had gotten

intimate with someone else at home and was not sure if I

was responsible for the pregnancy. I was not sure either so

I told the mother I would take responsibility, only to get a

second call a week later from another angry, ranting person.

This time it was a man I had never met threatening to come

beat me up because I was trying to claim fatherhood for his

baby. It was not long before the parents of the young lady

called to apologize for wrongly believing I had gotten their

daughter pregnant. I may not have been the one, but it was

my responsibility because I was involved with her. Times like

these give me a reason to continue in the ways I was taught.

Times like these give me the strength to build a character and

a habit that is able to embrace the completeness of my gift.

For me, truth is singular and there are no different versions

of it. So if I embrace truth in the little things, my capacity for

50

The Faith I Speak Of

truth grows and the strength of my gift becomes clearer and

clearer to me. There is no where our faith gets tested and

matures quicker than through the testing that comes from

our interactions with those closest to us. Two such

interactions stands out in my mind and are moments in

time I will always cherish because they sharpened my focus

on the gift I hold.

I had to ask him and so on one fateful Saturday on MIT’s

campus, I found the courage to go to his apartment on Vassar

Street. Amponsah had become a very good friend of mine and

had mentored me through the early years of my engineering

education. One day his professor learned I was from the

same country as Amponsah and asked to see me. Basically,

Amponsah had decided to withdraw from a PhD program

in which he had outstanding only a thesis to defend. He had

decided to withdraw because, as he claimed, God had called

him to become a pastor and he was looking forward to, in his

words, powerful things to happen. That afternoon I reasoned

and pleaded with him, trying to convince him that he would

be more useful as a pastor with a doctorate in engineering

than one who failed to complete what he had started. I

implored him and tried to reason with him by referencing a

passage from the book of Ecclesiastes; “Whatever your hand

finds to do, do it with all your heart, for in the grave, where you

are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge

nor wisdom”. I knew I had failed to convince him and had

indeed lost him when he told me his expectant wife, also a

PhD candidate, was going to give birth to a baby boy who

51

The Faith I Speak Of

would even be more powerful than Jesus. They had a baby

girl and 10 months later, at a young age of 33 years, he and

his family were found dead in their home. Cause of death was

determined as malnutrition and dehydration. I do not know

what would have happened had he completed the doctoral

program, but at times our capacity for truth is the only thing

that can guide our faith through the realities of our own false

perceptions.

Do I know exactly how I look like? Is my perception of me

the reality I think it is? Think about all the photos taken of

you and how different they look from each other. As much as

they may look like you, it is only when you lay them side by

side and often spaced out by time that it truly captures your

physical likeness. I may think I am not photogenic, but that

just means the photos I take are capturing a side of me that is

hard for me to reconcile with my perception of self. Mirrors

do help us see our faces, but they are only two-dimensional

rendition of our physical being. However, without the benefit

of time and multi-dimensional ref lection time after time, we

never get to build a true picture of our physical self. Similarly,

who we are, our true colors, our propensity for truth, and

the strength of our faith can only be known through the

reality of piecing together the perceptions of others. Woe to

me should I ignore what others see of me. I need others so

my faith can be cleansed of any duplicity that can destroy

the gift.

On two separate occasions, I had to confront a sister-in-law

and a pastor friend who I felt lacked clarity on the gift of faith.

52

Imagine

~ John Lennon~

Imagine there is no heaven

It's easy if you try No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today

Imagine there's no

countries

It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion, too

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you will join us

And the world will be as

one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can No need for greed or

hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world

You, you may say I'm a

dreamer But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you will

join us And the world will live as

one

The Faith I Speak Of

I needed to for my own sake. I had

invited myself to accompany my

sister-in-law and her sister to a

suburb of Accra on one early

Saturday morning. They had gone to

visit a man from their church to seek

prayers. I waited patiently for them

as they spent time with the man

only to find out later that they had

sought prayers for themselves to be

successful at clearing imported

chicken meat that had been held at

the harbor by the Standards Board.

It turned out the board had tested

samples of the chicken and had

found them to have expired and bad.

They had sought prayers after they

had been told the goods had expired.

Why anyone would think it

consistently sane to ask for prayers

for an outcome likely to cause harm

to unsuspecting consumers of bad

food, is beyond selfishness. Such

dubiousness in faith is actually more

common than one would think. Even

a pastor who I had met on a bus in New York City thought it

was okay to be a minister while he lied to a lady to enter

into a false marriage arrangement so he could secure

permanent resident. Lack of capacity for truth and

53

The Faith I Speak Of

inconsistency in how we weigh truth in our lives would not

exist with faith. If one thinks he or she has faith in spite of

such lack of moral consistency, he or she only deceives

self. People are priority in my life and investing in the lives

of many is what helps me sow up such inconsistencies in my

own life.

How do I know whether I am investing my days in the lives of

many? Simply, we can make a list of all the things we spend

our money on – shoes, clothing, electronics, food, housing,

etc – and divide each by our corresponding hourly wages.

For each category of spending, we will then get the number of

hours out of our working years to keep up that category. For

example, you and I may find that thirty percent of our working

hours, days and years are spent on shoes and gadgets. If that

turns out to be the case, then shoes and gadgets are what we

would have lived for. Should any category be more than my

resources spent on people, I risk losing the gift. I will need to

get my priorities right, else I will never be able to close my

eyes when the train pulls into my final stop.

If I want to know the depth of my faith and if I want that gift

of faith to justify my seat, then the only way I am going to do

that is through people. And as I deal with people, if the gift is

going to double much like the talent given out by the master,

I cannot live my life like the Phantom of the Opera. Much like

the story made famous by Andrew Lloyd Weber’s musical,

you and I cannot wear a mask over our vulnerabilities,

weaknesses, and shortcomings. We cannot wear a mask

54

The Faith I Speak Of

either to fit in or to make people love us. If we do, in the

end what will be left of us, when the time comes to step off

the train, is the hollow mask on our seat, a singular

testament to the emptiness of the life lived. What I do with

people and for people is what is going to mature, complete

and double my gift of faith. The fruits of that faith give me

reasons to wake up to live, knowing that I do so with no

doubt that I am given a day to invest in people.

55

OF DOUBT

L ife is often perceived to be unfair when I fail to find reasons

why good, hard-working people do not prevail. However, that

perception is usually clouded by my own biases because of

my different life experiences. The limits of those experiences

define my own world. But, I have to caution my heart that I

may not inadvertently assume others share the same world.

While some of my experiences strengthen my faith in my

seat, others make me wonder whether the ride is worth it

at all; the family, the relationships, the friends, and all that

come with it. Is marriage worth it? Is having a child worth it?

Is it even worth the effort to be a part of this whole journey?

These are some of the questions I grapple with through my

journey and often seem to me as reasonable struggles every

person has about their future. However, what these questions

and struggles really represent is the doubting of my gift and

a doubting of my ability to complete the journey in a way that

leaves me content to have been here.

There was a time in my life when, as a child, I was very

afraid and doubted whether I would even make it to my teen

years. It was a tumultuous preteen years when I had such

56

Of Doubt

uncontrollable temper. I found myself increasingly becoming

rebellious and taking off from home for hours and hours, just

roaming the streets. The tempers became so intense that one

day I got my mother upset to a point that she threw a pair of

scissors that ended up puncturing my posterior arch vein.

The blood that gushed out was as if a faucet of blood had been

turned on right at my feet. With her shoal drenched in blood,

she carried me across the street, hailed a taxi and took me

directly to the emergency room. In the midst of that mishap,

I had a lot of doubt about myself and even thought I had been

adopted. As the Akan proverb says “A hen never steps on its

chicks save for the ones who go ahead outside its line of sight”.

I came to understand.

I had to deal with my childhood doubts. Life is not meant to

be lived because it was fair, but to be lived because I am here.

While the harshness of life’s unfairness is as obvious as the

summer’s heat, it is not so obvious though that what is in

my faith is what needed to be nurtured. Just as clay hardens

while butter melts under the summer’s heat, my faith will

either be hardened or weakened under the challenges of life.

And, as hardened clay is useless for sculpturing and melted

butter is undesirable for bread, my faith is equally at risk

of bearing no fruitful benefits under the harshness of life.

How does one keep the constituents in these substances fresh

to render them fit for purpose? The secret is in the amount

of water they hold before being subjected to the summer’s

57

Of Doubt

heat. Not so much water as to drown it, but enough for it to

retain its constituents. Doubt is to my faith, as water is to the

clay and, as I child, I struggled with much doubt. Doubt has

proven essential to my faith, as water is to the integrity of the

clay. However, just as these substances can disintegrate in

abundance of water, my life also can be drowned in a flood of

doubt. Enough doubt, however, leaves me not so full of myself

to let the gift of faith thrive.

The mystery is simply that faith cannot exist without doubt

and it is necessary for its growth. Many times, the men who

walked with the man from Nazareth were reminded of how

little faith they had when they doubted, and yet through it all,

fishermen and tentmakers rose up to achieve feats beyond the

limits of their imagination. The doubt I speak of is that which

springs out of uncertainty about the boundaries of my world

and your world. That uncertainty is fundamentally more

about lack of knowing and predictability than any specific

exogenous factors outside of my life. I have faith because there

is doubt about tomorrow, I have faith because there is doubt

about my potential, and I have faith because there is doubt

about my identity. Unfortunately, doubt is often mistakenly

linked to fear as in one doubts because one is afraid. That,

however, is an error in thinking that will allow fear to destroy

my faith. Fear is a response to doubt, not a source of and it

leaves no room for faith if left to fester.

There is a certain deceptiveness about fear that can give a

person a false sense of faith and cause them to have a deep-

58

Of Doubt

seated illusion about their seat. Those are the folks the

physiologist Scott Peck referred to us “People of a Lie”. It is not

uncommon to find folks, especially in the developing world who

claim to have faith, but yet engage in animism to supposedly

ward of fear or consult fetish priests asking for protection.

They are so taken with fear that they lack clarity in thinking

and every interaction with others has an air of conspiracy.

They make excuses for the life they have, often paying for

others to pray for them or often seeking the face of soothsayers

to offer them reasons to justify their identity. The soothsayers

neither question their faith nor ask whether they have shown

themselves worthy of the seats providence has given them. To

borrow from the words of Lamentations; “the visions of your

prophets are false and worthless; they do not expose your sin to

ward off your captivity. The prophecies they give you are false

and misleading”. Interesting enough, in the same way

duplicity in our lives destroy our faith, a lack of consistency

of purpose towards people also perpetuates doubt that

drowns our lives.

Doubt emanates from uncertainty about the unknowns in

my life. To be certain about the unknowns is more beneficial

to me than to be uncertain about the known. I know what

I do not know. Certainty about the unknown is what I seek

and it is the reason for the gift. Tomorrow may be certain

because of today, but today is the reason why tomorrow may

be uncertain. What my seat requires of me today and my

doubt about my seat are the two most indispensable things

that mature my faith.

59

If You Believe

~Kenny Loggins~

If you believe in me

I will believe in what will

be We want the world you've

only dreamed of

Promise of the seasons Give us the future please

That's all we need of you

Running in circles

Desperate we hold to yours

and mine Using my body

Closing our hearts and eyes

Oh no, open the door

And let the wind blow

Take my hand Together we stand

In the eye of the hurricane

Every nation, every

woman, child and man

Comes on a moment, where they must take a

stand

Oh no, forget what you

know

You open your heart And that's where anything

can be

If you believe in me

We want the world you've

only dreamed of Promise of our seasons

Give us the future please

That's all we need of you

Of Doubt

There is no greater doubt that has

ever tested my faith than the

sudden pain of doubt that literally

gripped my abdomen the day I left

the cemetery. Up until that time I

had never lost anyone who sat next

to me on this journey. My father

was the first in my family. We had

just gone to the cemetery where I

helped lower his coffin into the

grave. I kept throwing dirt onto the

coffin and had totally gotten

absorbed into the moment when I

heard my older brother tell me it

was time to leave. As I sat in the

car, it just hit me like a huge blow in

my lower abdomen. For the first

time in my life, I had gone out with

my father and had to leave him

behind alone, buried in dirt. He

was not coming home this time,

never. What do I make of this? I am

here because he was here.

Billy Graham, one of the most

recognizable modern day

evangelical preachers, was asked

on the Larry King Show what he thought about heaven

given that he is now closer to his life’s end. His answer

60

Of Doubt

would probably surprise a lot of church-going folks alive

today. He said he had doubts about heaven but he was

certain he had done his best to please God. The truth, and

indeed the profound truth, about what this man said is

admirable. In that simple statement, he recognized the fact

that he had a need, after all these years, to know with

certainty why the gift exists. Like the pleasing servant, his

confidence is in the fact that he has pleased providence by

the life he has lived, not by his knowledge of theology. He had

done his best here and now. The rest is up to providence.

Unfortunately, I do worry much about that which is beyond

my control and that worrying feeds the doubt in me to a

point where it absolutely overwhelms my faith and dictates

what I do or do not do daily. My life then becomes muddied

up and lacks clarity. Relationships never grow, I wander

purposeless, careers are directionless, I seek justifications

after justifications for each step, and I reason onto others

why my life stands still. As the wise man will ask, how do you

make muddy water clear? Let it sit and that which makes it

muddy will settle. That which settles is what allows you and

me not to be full of ourselves.

When the water from the well is clean, it is not because there

is no dirt, but rather the dirt has settled. Should a pair of feet

wade through, what f lows will be muddy. Hence the caution

in whom we bring into our lives. Those I choose to bring

into my life will either add to the muddiness of doubt or the

clarity of doubt in my life. The friends who bring clarity will

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Of Doubt

be the friends who allow my doubts to be a foundation for my

faith. This means I need to be fully aware of those I choose

to sit next to on this journey. How I choose my friends makes

my daily struggle to keep faith very daunting in the face of

dealing with people. I may find God, Allah or that higher

power loving, comforting and understanding of my own

unique situation and I also may have the luxury of admiring

that higher power from afar in a world that does not intrude

upon mine. However, I have no such luxury when it comes to

dealing with people. I have to deal with people every day of

this journey and, as you and I know, people are very difficult

to deal with. As I always tell my friends; the problem with

God is people. People will get in the way of God, people will

intrude on my life, people will make me doubt myself, people

will drive me to pain, and people will drive me crazy. They

will be everywhere in my life, and make me pray to find peace

each day.

The day I sat next to Monica on the train, I looked intently at

her and wondered why she seemed to have tears in her eyes,

tears that seemed ready to flood her entire world and drown

her. I asked her how she was doing and, much to my surprise,

she proceeded to tell me about the messy divorce battle she

had been going through with her husband of almost 13 years.

She had given much of her adult years to a man on this journey

who had taken her for granted. He had decided to leave her

and move on with someone else. Such is the story of countless

divorces that are making many doubt their very faith in life.

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Of Doubt

When you have taken a seat on the train next to a person

who decides to change seats on the train, what do you do?

What would have happened to my dreams if my parents had

divorced even after more than 40 years of marriage? I asked

Monica if she could ever take a seat next to another man. The

tears that welled down her cheeks were enough to tell me she

would probably not be able to. Unfortunately, her pain is what

happens in many a life. It is the example of life’s challenges

that often cause us to doubt ourselves and make it difficult

to maintain our faith for the rest of the journey. But what we

fail to appreciate is that each person, with their gift of faith,

is also trying to figure out their own journey and trying to

come to terms with their seat in life, whether this journey is

worth it, or whether they are going to be able to shut their

eyes when the train finally pulls into the last station. It is

because of that challenge each person has, that we cannot

but let people be. As I told Monica, if the man has decided to

move on then she should work to come to terms with that. If

he stays unwillingly, at the end of the journey she may not be

able to close her eyes come nightfall.

The single biggest challenge on this journey, unquestionably,

is who sits next to me on this train. My family already sits

all around me because none of us had a choice in the family

or the race or the physical features we were born to share.

All that is part of the story of the gift of faith we’ve been

given for this life. As Jacques Delille said “Fate chooses your

relations, you choose your friends”. Our blood relatives sit

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Of Doubt

next to us, but you and I have to choose the others who can

influence our fate. So, the person next to us - the husband, the

wife, the closest relationship outside of family - will be the

defining influence that can build or destroy our faith. Doubts

will magnify should I ever come to a realization that where I

sit and the company I keep are likely to destroy my faith on

this journey.

Doubt, as much as it is driven by my struggle with uncertainty,

is also magnified by lack of honesty in my relationships.

Truth being told in relationships means you have faith in me

and I have faith in you. That is what reinforces my faith and

helps me work through my doubts. There is nothing wrong

with doubt as long as I recognize that it is what makes faith

possible in the first place. Where it becomes destructive in

my life is when dealing with people creates these doubts, as

evidenced in the examples of my closest relationships.

One of the most pervasive indicators of our own daily

doubts is the nature of what overflows from our hearts,

loud and clear in our conversations. One just has to listen

to the conversations people have on trains, at bus stops, in

elevators and on street corners, to recognize that in almost all

cases people always talk about other people; unsurprisingly,

often in not so flattering terms and largely gossipy. The

conversations tend to be rehashing of other people’s issues

that are a source of frustration for those rehashing them. Not

only are these a big distraction on the journey but they cause

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Of Doubt

us to build defenses, lose our perspective and doubt the next

steps needed to make our lives profitable. How does it profit

me and the seat I hold if I spend every precious minute of this

life worrying and talking about others?

While it may be challenging dealing with people, they are

the reason I am here. Should I take a step back and recognize

what the journey is all about and be reminded that each

person I deal with also has a right to the seat they have, I will

understand that they are witnesses to my seat. Each person,

like you and I, tells a part of the story, my story, and ultimately

the story that limits my doubts and unleashes the power of

the gift. What lies at the journey’s end, in the midst of all the

doubts and the witnesses needed to deal with the doubts, is a

promise that allows me to close my eyes come nightfall.

65

A PROMISE TO K EEP

Why the pain, the tears, the laughs, the joy, and the struggles

I have known in my life? If this is all about going to a heaven or

reaching some kind of a nirvana, then this is the most useless

waste of time ever known in the history of man. After all the

amazing wonders and powers at work through providence,

surely we could have started out in eternity and not have to

be part of a play none of us has an opportunity of stepping

out alive.

As I look at the beauty of nature, the raw majesty of the seas,

the beauty of the Sahel, the skies, the many rivers that keep

the beauty of the world around me, and all the wonderful

work done by the hands of man, I cannot but know that I am

in the midst of a script for a play. The fact is I have been given

a stage, one perfectly set up for me to do my best work yet.

With the seat I hold and the measure of the gift of faith as my

brush in hand, this stage is mine. That is a promise to keep.

“The Words” is one of the best movies I have ever watched

that captures the essence of the gift. And like everything

else bestowed on a person, the gift comes with an implied

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A Promise to Keep

promise. In the “Words”, a man steals a lost script, publishes

it and makes it his own only to realize that he must also live

out the tragedies that the original script owner had been

destined for. In my life here and now, there is one thing I am

promised; a fate. I will have my fate, you will have your fate,

and each person will have his or her fate. Indeed what that

movie illustrates best is the fact that I make choices in life,

choices at the end of which rest my fate. The choices are often

easy to make in the midst of my impatience and stubbornness

since the temptation to think just of self is often too great to

resist. Unfortunately, I have to live with those choices and

were I to lose the gift; those choices will fail to take me to the

fate for which I was given the gift. When that happens, life’s

promises are not kept for a wasted seat.

I know life promises me a fate, but providence has endowed

me with a measure of faith for this journey. With that, how

do I make the choices that lead me to my promised fate? I

laugh, I eat, I play, I dance, and I cry sometimes. All these

are life’s promises that keep me on the stage. On this stage,

I know I am promised miracles should I keep faith and that

alone keeps me in spite of the harsh childhood memories that

never go away.

The night hurricane Sandy roared through the neighborhoods

of New York was a night that reminded me of my own story.

The winds that swept two children out of a mother’s hands

to their death, kept me awake all night, a blunt reminder of

the day I almost drowned. That same night the winds came,

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Goodbye

To You

~Michelle Branch~

Of all the things I've

believed in I just want to get it over

with, Tears form behind

my eyes, But I do not cry

Counting the days that pass

me by, I've been searching deep down in my soul

Words that I'm hearing are

starting to get old Feels like I'm starting it all

over again

The last three years were just pretend, And I said,

Goodbye to you

I still get lost in your eyes

And it seems that I can't

live a day without you Closing my eyes and you

chase my thoughts away To a place where I am

blinded by the light

But it's not right

And it hurts to want

everything, And nothing at the same time, I want

what's yours and I want

what's mine. I want you, But I'm not giving in this

time

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to everything I

thought I knew You were the one I loved

The one thing that I tried to

hold on to

And when the stars fall

I will lie awake You're my shooting star

A Promise to Keep

a mother in Chicago had stabbed

her two children because of her

spite for her husband, while hot oil

was poured on a little girl for saying

hello to a man in a village in

Pakistan. The eeriness of that night

was as if providence had descended

to carry these children on its wings

so as to spare them the pain of life.

For there is no blessing to a falling

leaf than the winds to lift it up

again. These children who are yet

to realize the dreams of the seats

they hold cause me the greatest

doubt and pain. Emerging out of

one’s childhood just to have a

chance at full life is no less

dangerous than the baby turtle that

emerges from the ground and has

to make it to the water’s emerge

before falling prey to the crow. It is

equally as dangerous as the chick

who steps out of a hen’s shadow only

to be trampled to death by the

mother whose womb bore it. How

does a child keep the gift in the face

of such misfortunes littered on the

steps to the stage? How do I close

my eyes to wake again?

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A Promise to Keep

I do remember. It hurt so bad I screamed and cried out all

day. The pain would stop for a moment for my mother to

give me shower and, immediately after, I would take a cup

of codeine so I could sleep. At first, my parents thought I

had gotten a stomach infection, jaundice, appendicitis or

something of the sort that kept me screaming, holding my

abdomen all night. I was diagnosed with having contracted

bilharzia probably from walking barefooted in an infested

river. Weeks of treatment had left me emaciated, and yet I

always looked forward to running outside with all the other

kids. I always wondered what my parents had been feeling

when it finally emerged that I also had a hernia that required

surgery. At the age of about 9, I found myself in an operating

room. My parents held my hands before I was wheeled into

the operating room. “We will be right outside” were the last

words I heard before I fell asleep under the heavy smell of

anesthesia. I remember the dream I had; a lonely walk on a

desert with fine white sand blowing all around me and a huge

spool of thread, the end of which was tightly knotted around

my waist. The farther I walked, the more the thread around

the spool came unwound. Then somewhere along the path I

stopped and the thread began to tighten, bringing me ever

closer to the spool, at which point I awoke to find my parents

next to my bed in the recovery room. That is the promise of

childhood and I cannot but thank my parents for protecting

the seat life has given me. There was, however, something

else that gave me more than a reason to make it through.

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A Promise to Keep

There is a sense of stillness that I seemed to have chanced

upon as a child, a sense of stillness that seems to be the root

of a child-like confidence through difficult times like these.

Dunkwah, a small town my parents had moved to after my

early years, is where I began walking as a child, but also

literally the place where I loved to walk to school. Every

morning I would walk about three miles to primary school,

cutting through back-yards, wooded areas, till I usually

emerged at the bottom of the steps that led to the town

marketplace. I would then walk about another twenty

minutes up a hill, usually arriving at school all sweaty but yet

happy to be there. One afternoon after school, I decided to

walk home with a couple of my class mates. We took a path

home I had never taken before. The path took us through a

wooded path where we discovered these stables with a

number of horses. There was a man there who seemed

pleased to see a bunch of kids so ecstatic about seeing horses.

I had never seen a horse before, so I did return the next day by

myself. The other kids never seemed interested in going back

as I did. There was one black horse with a white stripe on

the face that I was particularly curious about. The man was

kind enough to let me feed and water that horse each time I

made it there after school.

Then one day, it happened. The man allowed me to ride the

horse. I was not afraid to sit on it, but I was afraid it would

not allow me to ride it. “Be still, don’t be afraid, it will let you

ride it”, those were the words I needed to hear.

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A Promise to Keep

How could a beast with such incredible power have so much

of its strength under my control? As the man promised, the

horse let me ride it because I was still. That is one memory

that shaped my understanding of promise.

A promise not kept is a memory kept, but a promise kept is my

strength to be here. That is a fact of life. There are explicit and

unspoken promises, for example, in our relationships in this

life. Some will be kept, while there will be disappointments.

But the memories of how these promises resolve will forever

be with us. The fact though is my trust and subsequent faith

in the promise keeper strengthens the more promises are

kept. There is one promise though that is common to you and

me, and that is the promise of tomorrow and what lies at the

end of the journey when we ultimately step off the train. That

is the one promise we never get a chance to be disappointed

on, but rather we do get a whole lot of chances to be grateful

and be reminded to fulfill. You and I have to really be grateful

each day we live because there are a whole lot of promises

kept by providence.

Providence’s promise means there is a tomorrow. However, to

make it to tomorrow means you have to close your eyes each

night and hope to wake up to face tomorrow. This nightly

ritual draws on our faith, that ultimate gift, a testament to

that fundamental promise providence has made to you and

me. Now, do I need to believe in God, Allah or a higher power

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A Promise to Keep

for life’s promise to be kept? The answer is ‘No’ because your

belief or lack thereof does not change the fact that you are

promised tomorrow. It is about you and me, and what we do

with the seat in life. In a very revealing way, it is about what

you and I do with the reason for our being. This I understood

about life’s promise to me that I needed to act for it to be kept.

My head injury left me with years of persistent headaches

and muscle spasms that often would lead me to sleep for

hours. There were times I quietly feared my head was going

to explode. Acoustic music, specifically strings, became the

one thing that seemed to calm my nerves. So, it was not long

before I developed a passion for string instruments and

decided to learn to play the guitar. During one of my many

summer vacations, my father got me a guitar. Unfortunately,

an African village is not a place where you find an abundance

of music teachers. So, I self-taught myself how to read music

and play the guitar, an instrument that kept me focused on

going beyond the daily struggles. I would visit my father’s

village most of the time with my guitar and practice tirelessly.

Funny enough, the village was called “Nyame Bekyere”, which

translated to “God will show the way”. Many a quiet time

spent in solitude with the strings is what gave me a passion for

academics, the drive to succeed and ultimately the emotional

fortitude to heal. Years later I would visit after my father’s

passing only to find it desolate and with little life.

Everything ages and everything grows whether we want

it to or not, and because of that, that which grows has to

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A Promise to Keep

be fed to grow else it ceases to be. Even though the village

seemed desolate without the vibrant presence of years past,

nothing seemed to have changed. To borrow the words of

Mandela “There is nothing like returning to a place that

remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have

altered”. I had changed because the seeds sown in that village

had given rise to dreams that have exceeded what I could

ever have imagined. The faith that has made all possible is

a living core of my being and as such it needs to continually

rise to my life’s challenges as I grow. Hence it needs to be fed,

not with physical food but with that which inspires it and

strengthens it.

As I have pointed out before, tomorrow’s promise kept is the

first nutrient that feeds my faith. When sadness turns to joy,

when tears turn to laughter and when memories prove the

steps forward, then I know the testing of my gift also feeds my

faith. For some reason, the testing comes at points in my life

where I always find myself at crossroads where my life needs

to change. I may often not know it, but there is always a fork in

the road and there is always a promise that lies at the end of

each path should I take it. Same challenges will visit me again

and again, in an ever increasing depth of muddiness, should I

refuse to take the road the gift beckons me to take. However,

should I rise to the occasion, the very growth in my spirit and

focus in life will outweigh that which is promised. That is why

the testing of my faith always produces a satisfaction that is

worth more than the promise itself. So, whether I attain the

promise or not, I am always satisfied to have gone through the

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A Promise to Keep

challenge. Satisfaction in the work will make it my best work

yet. But in the midst of my satisfaction, I can only continue my

best, if I have a framework that reminds me of what it is all

about. The necessity of a framework - a view of providence,

God, Allah, or whatever you prefer to refer to providence -

becomes helpful, not for providence’s sake but for our benefit.

Without that framework to navigate the journey, it becomes

pretty hard to keep faith.

This I have observed; promises are made when there is a

reward to the one who keeps the promise, but with faith,

the gift is already given. Faith, I have come to realize that

even though it takes me to a place I will ordinarily not go,

it does take me to a place where a promise can be fulfilled

or kept. A place where I can see miracles, the impossible

becoming possible. It is fair to say faith exists because

of a promise. However, my faith is not possible without a

possibility of attaining that which is promised. As Aristotle

puts it; “that which is possible is only possible because it

has happened before and the impossibility is that which has

never happened before”. That intuitively means that which

is possible will always be possible and the only hurdle that

stands in the way is the “hiddenness” or insufficiency of

my core that I put at risk. That insufficiency is my lack of

faith upon which that which is possible does not happen.

If I could rise above my insufficiency then the possible will

always be possible, and I may just have a chance to see many

that are impossible become possible, miracles indeed. I am

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A Promise to Keep

here because you are here for the promise of these miracles.

These are the miracles that you and I need because we have

a promise to keep - our fate.

75

OF DESIR E AND THE WILL

Each year I have lived, I have persevered because I have

always known there is a promise to keep. For some of life’s

promises, I know I have received what was promised because

I have loved, I have laughed, I have cried and I have been.

I have loved because a young girl, about my age, gave me a

memory at age fourteen that was enough to justify my seat

had I stepped off the train at that young age. Josephine was

an angel. Her father was a police sergeant and she lived with

her parents on an English style bungalow reminiscent of the

colonial times. For whatever reason the parents had put her

and her older sister up in the boys quarters in the back of

the house. I had gotten to know the younger sister and had

become enormously infatuated with her. I have never met a

girl so full of life and laughter. She was truly an angel.

I got wind of the fact that her father would be coming home

late, so I told my childhood best friend, who we had nick-

named “Moon Tiger” for his tenacity to always come up with

the most ridiculous ideas for whatever exploits lay ahead of

us. He had an idea. If the moon is up, you knew he was up

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Of Desire and the Will

to some mischief and was going to get you entangled in it.

His idea was that we could chant and call on some saints to

make the girl like me. But that could only work if we could

get a strand of her hair and sand from the bottom of her

slippers. Looking back, that was the most ridiculous story I

ever believed as a child, but that was exactly what we did. We

followed this poor girl for days until we were able to scoop up

sand from what we believed were her footsteps in front of her

house. We then went into a room where we drew a circle with

a Star of David in the middle, lit up a whole bunch of candles

and kept reciting psalms after psalms from the Bible. For

days we did this and never once, did this angelic girl ever pay

attention to us. “Moon Tiger” then came up with a supposedly

brilliant idea to just go to the house when the father was away.

Forget about getting arrested by the sergeant, I needed to see

this beautiful girl and nothing was going to stop me. It was

all worth the risk the night we snuck into the boys’ quarters.

That was the night I had the first kiss I have ever had in my

life. I sat down on the edge of her bed and held her hand. She

then touched my face and kissed me. Her lips were soft, very

smooth and perfectly hugged my lips. There was a taste to

it all that has stayed with me ever since. The tranquility of

that passion was suddenly broken by Moon Tiger screaming

“suspend, suspend”, which sent both of us running out of the

boys quarters into the nearby woods. Not even sure how

we finally made it home, but we did, lucky to have not been

caught by the father who had come back home unexpectedly.

Before I left, she told me how happy she was to see me and

promised she would see me the following weekend because

77

One More

Day

~Diamond Rio~

Last night I had a crazy dream, A wish was granted

just for me.

It could be for anything I didn't ask for money

Or a mansion in Malibu

I simply wished, for one

more day with you.

One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied

But then again

I know what it would do Leave me wishing still, for

one more day with you.

One more day.

First thing I'd do, is pray

for time to crawl I'd unplug the telephone

And keep the tv off

I'd hold you every second

Say a million I love you's

That's what I'd do, with one more day with you.

One more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied

But then again

I know what it would do Leave me wishing still, for

one more day with you.

One more day One more sunset, maybe

I'd be satisfied But then again

I know what it would do

Leave me wishing still, for one more day with you.

Leave me wishing still for

one more day Leave me wishing still for

one more day

Of Desire and the Will

she had to travel to see her mother

the next day. That is one date I am

still waiting to have.

In a horrible car accident the

following day, on her way to see her

mother, she lost her life. Jennifer

was meant to be here. She had a will

to live and it shone as bright as the

stars in the sky the night I last

looked into her eyes. She allowed

me to love at the one moment I

needed to.

There is so much more that is

possible as long as I am here. I am

made to live the full potential of

my natural abilities and to realize

outcomes for which I have been

endowed with faith. I count myself

blessed to have had a life at chance

and you also should count yourself

blessed as well to have been given a

seat.

As incredible as life’s many

promises, equally amazing is the

incredible danger inherent in the

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Of Desire and the Will

journey and the propensity to failure that is pervasive in the

human story. For me to understand this, I cannot but

compare it to the tree branch that grows towards the pot of

water nearby or the branch that grows towards the crack in

the roof through which the sun streams into the room. The

thirst for that which feeds my aspirations is like that which

guides the tree branch to the water and to the sunlight. It is

that same thirst that also gives substance to my faith and it

is called desire. If I put a pot of plant in my room or if I plant

a tree in my garden, I usually have an idea how I want it to

be placed for it to look beautiful to me. My desire to see the

tree spring up in a way

I see as most decorative and beautiful, does not mean what I

plant will survive. The beauty of the tree is made possible by

its access to sufficient water, sunlight, and the freedom for its

branches to grow unencumbered. My desires and what I think

will fulfill me in this life, unfortunately is not what will give

meaning to my life. However, my desires form the beginnings

of a foundation upon which my will for life rests. Nothing can

be achieved in this life without a desire for it. That implies the

gift of faith that has carried me thus far because I have desired

to be here, I have desired the fulfillment of life’s promises, and

I have desired to see the journey through. For 30 years out of

the 50 years they have been together, I have seen my father

and mother work out their lives with such willingness for a

beauty of a life together. That could not have been possible if

they did not desire it.

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Of Desire and the Will

Desire, however, is like a wild vine, not easily controlled by

the natural tendencies of man. If my parents had not desired

a journey together, the home would have been broken and my

dreams shattered. A single fight, an irreparable broken trust,

or a misplaced desire resulting in infidelity is all it would

have taken to lay waste all of our lives. From them, I learned

that desire can lead me uncontrollably into all that the flesh

is capable of and even more. Fed by impulses from within,

my desire is like a seed planted in me by providence not

meant to exist in vacuum. Since childhood, life’s experiences

have been a singular tutor that has given me something else

called a “will”. That something else is the whip with which

I have tamed my desire. A will is not something I am born

with but it is a core I have acquired beginning with the first

steps I took as an infant. Should my will be broken or never

fully formed within me, I risk never being able to achieve

the outcomes of my faith. To understand the potential in our

desires to influence our destiny, we need to take a hard look

at the objects of our desire. Our desires are meant to fuel

our dreams and when set ablaze, become passions of the

heart. Like a wild horse born to run, if passions of the heart

are not tamed, the run of our lives will be one of a beast.

Tame the passions and a dreams of the heart emerge with

a ferociousness that is nothing but majestic. Taking away a

child’s passions is like beating a wild beast into submission.

The beast loses its majesty, not useful for anything except the

slaughter house. There are two types of untamed passions or

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Of Desire and the Will

insidious desires that I want to address here and both have

the potential to change our fate for the worse. As I said before,

passion is nothing but desire set ablaze and there is none that

so potently sets our desires on fire than the obsession with

the flesh. For any man or woman, untamed passions driven

by obsession with the flesh can only lead to a broken life. I

have had my share of such struggles that almost derailed my

dreams and almost caused me to lose my faith in life. These

are struggles often too difficult to recount but I am lucky to

have had because they gave me the stage to tame my desires.

Whether it is the heartbreak of trusted love plundered by

an older man, an indecision of a suffered love, or a shattered

love that took away more than what I could offer, I have had

an opportunity to build a strength of will that has saved me

from ever destroying my gift.

I have always believed in the wisdom of applying a young

man’s ways to the wisdom of an older man as long as the

young man is willing to listen. My own father is the first man

from whom I sought advice on desires of the heart and the

nature of a woman to look for. I knew someday a woman was

going to have a seat next to mine, a seat likely to influence my

fate on this train. My father’s simple words were to “find a

woman who worked with her hands”. I never understood till

I became friends with an older man called Arthur Grayson,

who was a chef in New York City. Arthur taught me a lot of

wise things about the ways of a man in the midst of women.

With guidance from him, I decided to focus on two women

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Of Desire and the Will

I had been attracted to. Lauren was calm, always smiling,

a wreck of emotions, but yet really loving and wise. Ruby,

on the other hand just seems ready, ready for what, I was

never sure except I had the feeling she would say “yes” if I

were ever to propose to her. I always gave Arthur updates on

my dates and he would advise me on what to learn and the

nature of discussions to have so I could decide on whom to

date seriously.

I had planned to visit my sister and her husband in Washington

DC, but had been so broke I decided to hitch a ride from a

friend. We stopped to pick up a friend of hers who lived in

Philadelphia. I do not even remember what transpired on

the leg of the trip from Philadelphia to Washington DC, but

I am very glad we did pick her up. Ruby was funny and fun

all through the journey. It was not long before we became

the best of friends. She either understood me or must have

extended me a lot of grace, because there were many a time

she seemed years ahead of me in her thoughts. Even when I

gave her a set of Samsonite travel bags for a birthday, she was

kind enough to consider them a very practical gesture. I had

no idea girls loved f lowers more than travel bags.

On a Christmas Eve, months after we had started dating, we

drove up throughout the night to visit her family in Syracuse.

It was a trip with defining memories and defining lessons.

During my time with the family, I found myself on the side

of her sister in what proved to be a simmering family feud

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Of Desire and the Will

that she felt I had no business taking sides in. I got to know

how much family meant to her and specifically how much

Syracuse as a home provided an anchor for her life. In spite

of the breadth of memories we had shared together, I found

myself at a total loss when she asked me what I liked about

the engagement ring I had given her a night before. Ruby

was not a woman who worked with her hands and Arthur

understood that. Always in between jobs, there was much to

be uncertain about.

We met at a coffee house the day after to have coffee. I picked

her up and as we walked to the coffee house, a part of me

could imagine how it would be like to have her as my wife. I

held her hand as we walked, but there was something missing,

no memories to fall on, no dreams to visualize in my mind’s

eye, nothing. We ordered coffee and took a seat in a lonely

corner that did nothing but underscore how I was feeling

that Saturday morning. Did I make a mistake? Did I engage

the wrong woman? I could not find the words when she put

her left hand in mine, showed me the ring and asked me what

I liked about the ring I had gotten for her. I drew blank and

before I could make up something or offer an excuse, she

looked in my eyes and said “I guess words cannot describe

your thoughts”. I felt sad because I had nothing to give at

that moment to the woman I had engaged the night before,

but somehow I wanted to wish for something that was not

yet there. My fears were confirmed when we began going to

marriage counseling several weeks before the date we had set

to get married.

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Flock of

Words

~Trey Anastasio~

A change in your voice

was all that I heard

A quavering breath a pause

in a word. A shadow that

suddenly covered my eyes

A ripple of water quite

smooth otherwise

You try to go back and

pave over the hole Where an intake of breath

had punctured my soul

Let me know let me know

I need to know

A moment of silence it

now seems absurd

That I learned so much from a pause in a word

Every bird on the wing leads the others along

Inside your flock of words

something went wrong

I don't think that I was

expecting a lie I just saw them pass me

and one couldn't fly

Let me go I need to go

Of Desire and the Will

During one of those sessions, the counseling couple asked

me if I could see myself moving

outside the US to live in the country

where I was born. When Ruby was

asked if she was willing to move

with me should work or whatever

reason caused me to move outside

the US? Her response was “No”,

because she felt I could always

change jobs if it came to that. She

went on to suggest that we could

always move to Syracuse where

she called home. There is nothing

wrong with a couple deciding

together where to live and the

woman having an input into that

decision as equally as the man,

but this showed her vulnerability

when it came to building a future

with a spouse. Was it all about what

she desired? Maybe I had desired

what was not meant for my seat.

Eight full days before our wedding, I

broke off the engagement. We both

cried, but decided we did not really love each other enough

to get married. We met back at the coffee shop where we

always met and there she gave back the diamond ring. We

84

For The First

Time

~Kenny Loggins~

For The First Time

Are those your eyes, is that your smile

I've been lookin at you

forever, But I never saw you before

Are these your hands holdin' mine

Now I wonder how I could

of been so blind

Can this be real, can this be

true. Am I the person I was this morning

And are you the same you

It's all so strange how can it be

All along this love was right in front of me

For the first time I'm seein

who you are

Such a long time ago

I had given up on findin' this emotion..ever again

But you live with me now

Yes I've found you some how, And I'VE never been

so sure

And for the first time I am

looking in your eyes

For the first time I'm seein'

who you are

Can't believe how much I

see, When you're lookin back at me. Now I

understand why love is.......

Love is.....for the first

time.....

Of Desire and the Will

said our goodbyes and as I left her, I

knew I had become wiser and knew

much better what I desired. For the

days and months on end, I carried

the ring in my pocket. Then on one

beautiful afternoon, I took the ring

out of my pocket, looked at it one

more time and then walked across a

street to a little girl, probably about

15 years old. I looked at her and

asked her what her name was. Grace,

she said. I took her hand, looked at

her, then gave her the ring and told

her to always remember that she is

blessed. Then I walked off knowing

I had finally understood what my

heart desired.

It all made sense, as I stood in

front of her and gently put the ring

on her finger. All the memories built

over the years through my

experiences, my doubts, and lessons

from the women I have known,

made sense that very moment. It

was as if it all had been molded into

a reality of this one girl right before

my eyes. No, it was neither a vision,

nor an apparition. It was what by

85

Human

~Christina Perri~

I can hold my breath I can bite my tongue

I could stay awake for days

if that's what you want be your number one

I can fake a smile I can force a laugh

I can dance and play the

part if that's what you ask

give you all I am

I can do it

I can turn it on

be a good machine

I can hold the weight of worlds if that's what you

need

be your everything I'll get through it

But I'm only human And I bleed when I fall

down

I'm only human and I crash and I break down

your words in my head

knives in my heart you build me up and then I

fall apart ‘cause I'm only

human

I can take so much

till I've had enough

Cause I'm only human

I'm only human and I crash and I break down

your words in my head

knives in my heart you build me up and then I

fall apart ‘cause I'm only

human

Of Desire and the Will

faith I had chased after with my

dreams. And that reality underscored

for me what it meant for providence to

have showered with his grace. Indeed,

it is good to have loved this girl to

whom years later I would say I do.

I have been told that I am a man of

strong will. That strength of a will is

what has made it possible for me to

tame my desires so as not to lose the

reason for being here. A strong will

has taken hold in me, utterly free of

compulsion, as I have grown. I have

been lucky for the love of parents and

family, but many have not been so

fortunate in their seats. Unfortunately,

the most dangerous part of our will is

the inherent tendency and propensity

to want to dominate others and deny

them the free exercise of their own

will. You and I risk our faith in our

own journey being destroyed if we

lose our sense of self. Denying anyone

the right to their free will is what

abuse is.

I am made not to be abused, you are

made not to be abused, but when men

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Of Desire and the Will

and women are insecure about their own seats in life, then

they seek to validate their identity by imposing their will on

others. Hence, why abuse happens and why it is so

destructive to the healthy development of the abused’s will.

What was and is so evil about the slave trade, the holocaust,

and apartheid is not so much the physical cruelty exerted on

others but rather the systematic effort to rob others of their

free will. That is the purest of evil because it sought to deny

a people a seat in life and destroy the one thing that could

unleash the possibilities of their faith - their will.

The beginning of losing faith is the losing of that will, and

losing of the will preceded by losing of desire. When desire is

gone from us, then what is left, like cindering ashes, can never

be set ablaze. So, from slave masters to all the dictators the

world has known, we see men who sought to rob others of their

passion to justify their seat, causing many to lose their very

faith and will to live. This challenge continues to play out in

human tragedies each day as we interact with others around

us. From homes through schools to the work place, abusive

language and actions rob many of a healthy development of

will. I will never forget a man who I worked with at a company

in Stamford, Connecticut, who would always make comments

about how well I was paid. Comments turned into questions,

then into complaining and later unwarranted behavior that

questioned my very right to the work of my hands. Years

before that, I had a similar experience where a co-worker

old enough to be my father asked me about how I had paid

my way through university. The fact that I, a citizen from

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Of Desire and the Will

another country, could have gotten a scholarship to attend

an American university did not sit well with him. Next thing

I knew, a grown man was in the company bathroom hurling

things around and cursing at immigrants. Envy is a very

insidious form of abuse at the root of which is an abuse of will

that even led the likes of King David to forcefully desecrate

the wife of another man.

Unfortunately, this form of abuse is a challenge we will always

have but can manage if we understand one basic fact - you

and I are meant to be here. You and I will be tested by the evil

men do, by the hardships we face and by the difficulties we

get ourselves into. However, that testing is the one thing that

matures us so we can accomplish what we are given a seat to

accomplish.

A defining lesson I have learnt about faith is that when tested,

it always takes me to a place that, on my own, I would not

voluntarily go. However, my heart has to hold the desire and

possess the will to bend that desire to respond. I can neither

allow passions to flare up to distract my faith, nor allow my

will to be abused such that I shrink back from my gift. The

outcome of the testing leaves me strengthened or weakened

depending what I do in response. The servant who hid his

masters gold and failed to produce a profit was equally tested

like the rest, but his response indicated that he saw neither

a way nor a possibility for a return. He had no desire and no

will and as the good book says “where there is a will, you find

a way”. So, he never found a away.

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Of Desire and the Will The man fundamentally lost his will. Without a heart’s desire

and a will, I will equally shun the call and promise of faith

each time. Unfortunately, the more I end up shunning the

calls, the more I lose the will to live, the more I give up on

life, and the more I lose the desire, the more the gift of faith

becomes unproductive for my lot in life. In the end, will I be

able to even close my eyes when the lights go out?

Desire is human, deeply embedded in my being, driven by my

aspirations and is often what inspires me. Because I desire to

see my dreams and aspirations come true, I hope for a chance

tomorrow so I can have another chance. The hope that arises

out of my desire, unfortunately, remains just that - hope - until

there is a will to act. That is what makes the difference. That

is what gives substance to my faith. Everything is possible

indeed, but what seems impossible will even be more so

where I lack a desire and a will to act.

89

NOT WITHOUT POSSIBILIT Y

A s I prepared for my final exams in my last year in

undergraduate school, I fell very ill. It began with breaking

into painful hives each time I went from a cold outside into

a heated room. I had developed a serious case of Cholinergic

Urticaria. It had become so severe that I would go into each

exam with a can of soda and would empty the contents all

over my hands and chest to help me through the pain. The

pain usually lasted for about 15 minutes and soda seemed

to be the only thing able to cool me down so I can finish each

exam. This went on for a whole year till it got complicated

with profuse night sweats. That is when I decided to go for a

comprehensive check-up. I had an extensive set of tests that

included blood tests, x-rays and magnetic resonance imaging

scans.

In the middle of the room, stood a chair and as I began to walk

towards it, it seemed like the longest walk in my life. A walk

that seemed even longer than the three miles or so I used to

walk to school in Dunkwah, a little town on the Offin river

in Ghana. I was there to find out and I desired to know. I had

the will to take the seat, but what was or was not possible did

90

I Turn To You

~Christina Aguiler~

When I'm lost in the rain, In your eyes I know I'll

find the light

To light my way. And when I'm scared,

And losing ground,

When my world is going crazy,

You can turn it all around.

And when I'm down you're there pushing me to the top

You're always there,

giving me all you've got.

For a shield from the storm,

For a friend, for a love

to keep me safe and warm I turn to you.

For the strength to be

strong, For the will to carry on

For everything you do,

for everything that's true

I turn to you.

When I lose the will to win,

I just reach for you and

I can reach the sky again. I can do anything

And when I need a friend, You're always on my side

Giving me faith

taking me through the night

For the arms to be my

shelter through all the rain, For truth that will never

change,

For someone to lean on, For a heart I can rely on

through anything,

I turn to you

Not Without Possibility

not matter to me. It was this

realization that gave me comfort

that I could indeed draw on my faith,

the depth of which I had never

known before. Days before, the

doctors at MIT’s campus clinic had

broken the news to me that I had an

enlarged heart.

When I was told about my heart

condition, I quietly left the doctor’s

office, went back to my dormitory

and wept like I had never before. In

the quietness of my room, I knelt

beside a fish tank that held a

collection of species I had become

fond of and I wondered why each

species had such a unique design. It

quickly dawned on me that it was

so, because each of them completed

life. This is a lesson I really should

never had forgotten. The first time I

remember ever staring this close at

any species is when, at the age of 10,

my father came home one day with

this adorable four-legged creature.

My mother screamed at the sight of

it because it was a baby leopard cub

that the man had bought because he

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Not Without Possibility

thought I loved animals. My fascination with animals

actually began a couple of years before this cub showed up. I

always felt I could talk to these species or hear them. My

first attempt at this was not so happy an experience when I

found a set of new baby mice and hid them in my mother’s

jewelry box. I got such a spanking the day my parents found

out I had been keeping and feeding these mice. As a

compromise, I was allowed to buy pigeons which I went on

to breed. The pigeons would always fly away but return

when I whistled for them. There were many times that these

birds kept me company and completed me. And as I stare

into the fish tank, once again I am being comforted by

creatures I have kept.

I completed life and what I had just found out was the

beginnings of a story that is needed to complete life. With

that in mind, I placed my forehead against the cold glass and

had a conversation with providence, the details of which I

have never told anyone about. So, as I sat in front of the doctor,

I was not there for answers but for the next paragraph of

the story. After all the extensive testing I had undergone at

Harvard Medical, it was revealed to me that I had a hole in my

heart and that blood had been detected f lowing from the left

to the right ventricle.

In the room of our lives, there is always a chair that stands

in the middle. There will be many opportunities for you and

me to walk over and take a seat. The question is what will

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Not Without Possibility

be the next paragraph in the story for you and me? It is very

difficult to have a conviction that everything is possible

within the realm of human experience, unless we are at the

end of your rope and have ran out of options. Ironically, that

is indeed the time to count ourselves lucky for providence

to have presented us an opportunity for a next chapter of a

story. That is the only way our faith will ever go beyond the

boundaries of our imagination.

What would you do with it if providence gave you all that

your heart desired? What would you do with it, if you had

all the faith you needed? Whatever the answer, I am afraid

the lives we are currently living tell the story of exactly what

we will do with it, because we have already been given what

our desire and will are able to hold. There is something,

however, about the path to faith that no holy writings can

teach because it is already innate to our very being. Nobody

tells the baby turtle hatching out of the egg, deeply buried

in the sand, to head to the ocean, but it does. To get to the

water, it has to take the steps and risk being picked off by

the eagle hovering in the sky. The steps, without which there

is no tomorrow, must be taken. Again, no set of scriptures

can teach me about how to sit on the chair in the middle of

the room, but they can inspire me to see the opportunity for

the possible that the chair represents. The steps taken or

the sitting on the chair is what proves that I am drawing on

the gift of faith to make that which is possible a reality. That

which is innate in me, however, comes in different measures

and strengthens with maturity. It achieves its end only in

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Not Without Possibility

so far as that which is to be attained is within the realm of

possibility. The good book asserts that a person cannot be

tempted beyond what they can bear. And I believe that to be

true. Similarly, I believe that a person’s faith can never take

them to a place where they cannot live up to. I will never have

an opportunity to have a testing that my faith can never take

me through. As wonderful as you and I may be or as great as

we may think we are, the faith we are capable of is borne out

only by talents and gifts nature has blessed us with. I have

been given enough to shoulder all that comes my way and

hence all that comes my way will be possible if I work with

what I have been given.

I had to learn how to swim at a much later age and did so

only because I could never have graduated from university

without it. MIT required that as a condition to award all

degrees. It was terrifying jumping into a 16ft pool for the

first time, especially as an adult. There are few facts that

brought to forefront the fear of what might happen next if I

were to take a plunge. What I had on my mind were the facts

around failure and the impossible, such as knowing heavy

objects do not just float. That that scared me. As I began to

learn what to do from the swimming coach, I also began to

have confidence and hope that someday I was going to be able

to swim like a fish. That learning process and confidence in

the outcome only came because I diligently imitated what I

saw my instructor do. When faith struggles, there is no better

medicine than imitation. Imitation is at the heart of life and

at the very heart of how I live and grow. As you and I know,

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Not Without Possibility

a child born today only learns because he sees and imitates

what others are doing around it. Imitation is powerful, but

devoid of good reason, would lead to shattered faith. My

father took me hunting in the forests around Dunkwah on

several occasions. He taught me how to shoot and how to

thoroughly clean his rifles. I knew where he kept his guns

and the bullets. I would play with the guns when he was

away, but never once did it ever cross my mind to point it at

another human being. I never saw my father point it at

anyone and I never heard him even speak ill of another

person while holding the gun. I was also never exposed to the

violence of video games and never seemed to have time for

television, because there was so much arts and crafts work

to do. So all that I had to imitate, I did knowing the nature of

parents I had been blessed with. Imitation is how my faith has

taken its steps and I have to thank my parents for the home

that made it always possible.

In this my life, whether successful or unsuccessful as I

have judged, I have never lived tomorrow. However, some

of us are lucky for the homes we have found ourselves in.

Unfortunately, others have not been so lucky or have never

had a chance to see what is possible in homes where no vision

seemed possible. Because of the worth of the gift given me,

I cannot and I could not turn away from homes where I

witness brokenness. The reality of faith is that our dreams

can be possible in spite of the home being broken. That was

certainly the case for a young man I mentored when I lived

in New Jersey. Mannell was a good kid, but found himself in

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Not Without Possibility

a home that he sought to always get away from so he could

have a bit of peace of mind. I would get with him after work

and spend time with him, advising him on how to get back

into school. Something happened in the home and he did not

want to go back there unless I came with him. He needed for

me to explain to his parents why he wanted to go to school,

so I went. I had never been in the low-income projects,

government housing in the ghettos of Newark, but I did go.

Dark hallways with very little light and elevators that smelled

of urine were surprises I never anticipated in any American

city. It was a hard place to be. His mother invited me in and as

I sat down, she totally ignored me and continued watching her

TV program. Shortly after I sat down, a man came out of the

living room and Mannell introduced him as his father. He was

very pleasant and sat down to talk about a lot of stuff on his

mind. Mannell excused himself to go get something to drink.

Five minutes had not even passed, till we heard the sound of

glass shattering on a floor. His father excused himself to go

check what had happened. All of a sudden I heard the sound of

a woman screaming at the top her lungs for help. Mannell and

his father had gotten into a fight. I rushed over from the living

room to find two adults with knives in their hands going at

each other. For whatever reason, providence had determined

it was not my day to step off the train because, without

thinking, I shoved Mannell out of the apartment. I then lunged

at the father and got hold of the knife, which ended up putting

a cut along my forearm. With all the strength I could muster,

I held him in a head lock till the police showed up. The father

apparently had been in and out of jail, and that afternoon, he

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Not Without Possibility

got locked up again. What was heat-breaking was the passion

with which the mother defended the father while his son

pleaded with her to tell the truth. However, one thing is for

sure, if I had not acted, a young man would have lost his life,

and I would never had forgiven myself. For me, this young

man may have a chance at an imitation of a worthy life, what

happened gave him a bit for certainty in life the midst of

tomorrow’s uncertainty. I was there because he was there.

You see, one thing I have come to have a strong conviction

about is this - life is all about people. As the saying goes no

man is an island. I am here because there are others here.

Others have come before me and others are going to come

after me. People, other people, are as critical to my faith as

my own desire and will to live by faith. People around me will

always be my guide to tomorrow and will offer the validity

and proof of life I need at the end of life’s journey.

Interestingly enough, while people are the witnesses to our

faith, they also can become the impediments to our faith.

It all depends on the memories we build and cherish with

them. When the so-called Christians showed up at the gates

of heaven claiming they had faith and needed to be let in, they

pleaded to Jesus “we cast out demons”. They were denied entry

and as Jesus put it “I do not know you because what you did not

do for others, you did not do for me”.

The people we interact with each day are the only witnesses

to our lives and the outcomes of our interactions, the only

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Not Without Possibility

validation of our purpose. People are essential in my life,

people are essential in your life. I may think I am superman

and can fly, or I may think I do not need people, but if there is

one unquestionable kindness providence has shown then it is

none other than the laws of physics upon which our humanity

rest. What those laws of physics do is reveal the limits of each

of us and give others opportunity to make a difference.

To every human limitation revealed, man has imagined and

been able to find a path beyond that limitation, through

discovery after discovery. Science has revealed the secrets

of the heavens such that diseases have been cured. Travel

to space is possible and communication by wireless waves

possible. These are possibilities that providence has

unleashed through the curiosity of man. However, one thing

that makes it all possible is always the faith of one man in the

limitless world of possibilities. I have sorrow for the many

who peddle stories of faith as they carry out crusade after

crusade, promising to heal people of their sicknesses. These

faith peddlers often fail to see the other side of the miracles

providence has unleashed on mankind. Do I believe these

wheel chair healing crusades? If it were all about curing

people of their physical disabilities, Jesus would probably

have set up an orthopedic hospital. I do not. However, it

illustrates a real fundamental misunderstanding of faith that

has become pervasive in religions today. That is the idea that

my faith is all about me and your faith is all about you. That

idea is erroneous. I have faith for the benefit of others and you

are given faith for the benefit of others.

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There is no other story that illustrates this better than the

bible story of the crippled man who was made well because

his friends went through great lengths to bring him to

Jesus. This story captures the core of why we have faith

more than any other in the bible. The man was made well

because of the faith of those who carried him, not his faith.

The impossible become possible when the object of my faith

is people. Abraham had faith because he moved to make a

dream possible for many as was promised to him. Rahab had

faith because she risked her life for her others to be saved.

When faith’s purpose is for others to make the journey, life is

not without possibility. What happens with the people I get

the opportunities with each day, becomes the return on the

investment of my faith. These opportunities are the places my

faith completes itself in deed and in actions. Should I shrink

from these opportunities, my faith will dwindle. Life will

become defined by the impossible because my talents will fail

to give my life a meaning. To borrow the words of Machiavelli

to capture this wisdom in life; “With men like Moses, fortune

provides the opportunity, but they give it substance. Without

opportunity, prowess gets extinguished, and without prowess

opportunity comes in vain”. As long as there are people, there

are opportunities for us to find meaning on this train. This

is the only place where miracles happen; not when we get off

the train. I am here, you are here.

99

BLESSED BE THE BLIND

A s people have become more and more important in my

life, destiny has taken me to relationships and places that

continue to give meaning to my life. For the fourth time in my

life, fate was to take me again to one such place where I had

given a little girl a diamond ring for a gift.

The f light to Takoradi was not long at all, lasting for only about

forty-five minutes. There was such freshness and vibrancy to

everyone I met as I made my way out of the small city airport.

People smiling, greeting each other and the wind from the sea

brought a cool breeze over the road to the house. We arrived

at the place, a spacious house that seemed comfortably laid

out with enough windows open to let the breeze continue

to f low through as much as it blew outside. As I entered, he

smiled. I had chosen him next to my seat because he allowed

me into his home. Alfred looked well rested and as if we were

just continuing a discussion from yesterday, he remarked

“this is what’s happened”.

He seemed well-rested and had gained some of his weight

back. It was beautiful to see all his siblings and his wife right

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Thank You

~ Tori Amos~

If the sun refused to shine,

I would still be loving you.

Mountains crumble to the

sea. There would still be

you an' me. Kind woman I give you my

all. Kind woman nothing

more.

Little drops of rain whisper

on the plains. Tears of loves lost in the

days gone by.

And if our love is strong

here, there is no wrong.

Together we shall go until we die, oh my my.

Inspiration is what you are

to me.

Inspiration, love to see.

If the sun refused to shine,

oh, I would still be loving you.

Mountains crumble to the sea. There would still be

you,You and... me.

Thank you

Blessed be the Blind

around him. We talked about how he

was feeling and how his situation had

brought together and reconciled the

family. He kept thanking me and asked

me to thank his daughters, his eyes so

filled with gratitude, as I remember.

The sudden stillness that filled the

room, for a moment, filled my eyes with

tears, arousing my own last memory of

my father. My father also had said

“thank you”. Will I also have an

opportunity to say “thank you”, I

wondered.

On that fateful night the lights went

out as had become common in the

country. The wife took him outside to

the porch to enjoy the evening breeze.

Moments after being there he told the

wife someone had just thrown sand in

his eyes so he wants to be taken inside.

She took him inside and tucked him in

bed. Shortly after, he fell into coma.

This was his night, the train had arrived and he was ready

to get off. Alfred Dadzie was here and he was like my father.

As Niccolo Machiavelli observed; “The gulf between how one

should live and how one does live is so wide that the man who

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neglects what is actually done for what should be done moves

towards self-destruction rather than self-preservation”. As

Alfred was closing his eyes, the constant refrain he had for

each person around him was “thank you”. He lived to benefit

others. What he did defined him because he was a man

who, like my father, focused on how one does live. The man

embodied Machiavelli’s words in its simplest terms; what I do

is what defines me, holding a set of beliefs about a way of life

does not define me.

You and I cannot lose sight of the fact that the faith given to

us is a double-edged sword. It can be the basis of our hope for

tomorrow or it can lead to a delusion of grandeur that benefits

no one, not even us. For what’s the wisdom in thinking I will

someday reach nirvana or heaven in forever bliss, when I

cannot even love the person next to me on the train of life,

here and now? Or if I cannot even focus on how I live each day

to be of benefit to life itself ? As I have always said, if you do

not like someone or you hate someone, the odds of one of you

being disappointed in the after-life are pretty high.

It will be an unfortunate tragedy for me to come to the end

of the journey only to recognize that no one can bear witness

to my life. If I have been given faith, what I cannot allow to

happen is to let the promise of faith lead to a life not rooted in

reality, a life that neglects the basic responsibility and obligation

for which I have my seat in life. What I cannot also allow to

capture my imagination are the mirages along the journey that

give a false perception of what my life is all about. Reality is a

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powerful disinfectant to these mirages and cleanser for our false

perceptions about our journey. However, there are two things

about our lives that make it difficult for reality to be of benefit to

us; one, what the heart hears and, two, what the eyes see.

It is easy for me to profess faith in the absence of an act of

faith. Faith without life’s deeds is fraud and proof that the one

who proclaims it does not understand. That person is like the

man who hides his talent for his heart does not hear. What I

do and how I live reveal my heart and validate my faith.

One of the most pervasive misunderstandings about faith is

how it relates to “belief” and “trust”. Faith is neither belief nor

trust. It is not a religious concept. It is a human characteristic

that has driven men and women since creation to take risks

they will not ordinarily take based on the odds for success.

While it may begin with a belief in a subset of plausible, basic

facts about that which requires me to act, it is only proven by

steps taken which would ordinarily not be taken. Of course,

without believing the basic facts, faith is impossible and any

subsequent risk taken proves only one’s foolishness. While

belief is the seed that has to be sown before faith is possible,

it is trust that ultimately makes faith possible. Without trust,

faith will not overwhelm doubts.

Faith is conceived by belief and given birth to by trust. The

trust is the deposit of goodwill or grace that I make in the

object of my faith. That goodwill or grace is what allows

me to overlook my doubts beyond the plausible and to act

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in spite of my fallibility. I have to understand that nothing

happens in this world without people. Whatever trust I may

have in a higher power or creator is useless unless I also trust

people. Every human being exists only because of the favor

and actions of other human beings. Therefore the trust in the

absolute decency of man is essential if faith is to be proven.

As the good book says, “the heart is deceitful beyond doubt

and who can understand it”. While my good intentions may

cause me to believe that I have faith because I believe that

unfortunately is not evidence of faith. I do not know if my

faith avails me anything unless my daily actions support it.

What happens in my life is a direct result of the steps I took

yesterday and the goodness of the people in my life. It is an

error in thought to believe that events or life’s outcomes are

determined by either fortune or by providence, and that the

prudence of man cannot influence those outcomes. Fortune

and prudence only provide me opportunities. However,

opportunity is an opportunity for me only because I choose

to opt for the possible. Those who think they are deserving

of an invisible act of God because they have a belief in God,

are bound to leave the outcomes of their lives to chance. Such

people are deceived about faith and are more likely to have

unproductive lives that are of no use to their neighbor. No

one knows how I have lived my life, but everyone sees how

I have lived my life. So, for example, if I claim to love people

because of my faith, then I cannot have memories of specific

individuals who I do not talk to or have affinity for. In the end,

like you, I am going to have to make my case at the end of the

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journey. For any of us to make a case we are not certain of,

will be the biggest tragedy of our lives. My faith will not be

encumbered if my heart gets it, and the proof that my heart

is not deceived comes from what I do.

The second thing that prevents reality from being a benefit to

my faith is what my eye sees. “Men judge by their eyes rather

than by their hands; because everyone is in a position to watch,

but few are in a position to touch” said Aristotle. Unfortunately,

our eyes have the potential to cause us ruin and what we

judge by sight, potential to destroy our faith. How many times

have we judged another person erroneously because of what

we see of them? The problem is not the eyes but what’s in our

core. As Mark Twain said “You cannot depend on your eyes

when your imagination is out of focus”. This indeed is better

illustrated with the story of the rich man who saw a man,

Lazarus, in tattered clothing outside his door each day, but

then failed to take advantage of the opportunity to help him.

In the afterlife, when the rich man begged for the poor man

to give him water to quench his thirst, he was told he had his

chance in life.

My eye is the light to my body, but if I allow my beliefs and

values to be corrupted, my imagination will be out of focus

and what the eye sees, seriously blurred. The rich man could

not recognize that he was there because Lazarus was there.

What he saw of the poor man became the stumbling block

to his faith. On the train of life, there is no bigger stumbling

block to our faith than what we see of others. One particularly

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unique stumbling block is race, the color of a man’s skin and

the uniqueness of his makeup.

Racism and tribalism are two of the most potent evils that

corrupt the hearts of men and reduce most men to levels

below mere animals. Am I a racist? Are you a racist? Before

we say No, which is the most likely answer to come to mind,

we need to examine how we see others who are not like us

and consider the facts in our lives when it comes to race.

Just imagine the period of mistreatment, the segregation, and

the behaviors that had persisted for years. Any individual

who inadvertently or directly contributed to its persistence,

failed in the seat they were given. What is even sad is to let

today’s lack of blindness to differences in race drive your

values and your life because of the camaraderie you keep.

The fact is no one is created like me or you, but everyone is

created just like you and me. Incredibly like you and I, none of

them had a choice in the selection of their race or the relative

proportionality in their features. Therefore what is wrong

is to assign a worth to a man or treat him in a certain way

because of his features when they previously had no choice in

the matter. The rich man who constantly ignored Lazarus did

so because he could not recognize that Lazarus was the very

mirror of providence and of his own story. Unfortunately,

the error in sight that society breeds into us means we do

not see things as they are, we see things as we are. However,

our prejudices prevent us from seeing things as they are. The

rich man had prejudices that made him miss the whole point

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about life. What makes our prejudices persist and destroy

our faith is the constant stream of excuses we make to reason

ourselves out of such burdens of life. We ought to take stock

of the inventory of friends, the relationships you keep, and

those your life have benefited. If the stock around you is of

one shade, but yet those you interact with on daily basis are

of multi-shade, then there might be blind spots in your life

that harbor prejudices.

It was the summer of 1985, when a young black man asked

me if we could go on a double date with two young ladies in

a church I used to attend in New York City. On the day of the

date, one of the ladies was nowhere to be found. Later that

night she called this young man to let him know she did not

want to go on a date with him. The next day at church I found

out the young lady had a problem dating black men. Asked

why, her response was that “it is just her preference” in men.

Basically she had made a judgment in men based on the color of

their skin, something God had determined for that man. Your

preferences come out of your heart and define who you really

are. You may think you are not racist but a preference that

defines how you interact with people based on race is racism.

You can reason out justifications all day long. However, if I

seek justifications for my actions or make excuses for myself

that avoids me dealing with my prejudices, I am more likely to

find myself in the shoes of either the rich man or the wicked

servant who was found to have hidden his talent.

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I definitely was determined not to find myself in such

predicament during my years in New York. I would never

forget a homeless man I used to come across every evening

walking back to my dormitory, a young man in his early

twenties. He would beg for money as people strolled by. I

used to walk past him and not respond to his begging. I would

make excuses to myself against giving to him, often claiming

he would only use the money for alcohol or drugs. Those were

justifications only to ease my conscience, but that was wrong.

I was judging the man and had missed the point that he could

be the one witness I needed for my life to count. So, after

a period of time, I began inviting him to have dinner with

me. His favorite was toasted raisin bagel with chicken salad.

We would order take away and walk in the park and talk

about life, about everything. The day Jamel invited me to his

wedding was one of the amazing days of my life. For what a

student can I afford, I separated my clothing and gave him

half of it as a gift, but he wanted something more specific,

which I gladly gave; an old worn out leather pocket bible I

had always carried each time we had walked in the park. I

am here because Jamel is here.

I am grateful for what my eyes can see, for my eyes are there

to help me correct my prejudices that I may have a chance

with my faith. At times though I wonder if it is more a blessing

to be born blind than to have seen what the eye sees. If I think

about what my eyes have seen and memories that come with

it, how do I satisfy myself that those memories are real? In fact

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they could very well have been dreams I had because they are

about as tangible as recollecting dreams from the past. The

only thing that convinces me that these are truly experiences

from my past is the fact that there were witnesses - others

who share those memories and were eyewitnesses to the

facts. People like Jamel, as a witness to the outcome of my

life, also gives meaning to my faith for my tomorrow. When

the journey gets tough and the outcome for tomorrow looks

cloudy, we all often could use angels or the invisible hand to

guide us. The reality is that the only angels you and I are going

to find are the faces we see every day. Whether they look like

angels or not, depends on how you and I see with our eyes.

One of the most thought-provoking proverbs in the bible

states that “a man’s life is like an arrow shot through the air. It

leaves a trail as it passes through air. But when it’s gone, no one

even knows it came through”. I am not the only one to have had

a chance to live. You are not the only one given the gift of faith

to take you through this journey. Billions of people have been

given that chance and billions more will be given that gift. It is

what you and I do with that gift that will bring the fulfillment

at the end of the journey. For me to live, focused only on myself

and acquisition of material things, would be a waste of that

gift. Unless my faith is invested in others, allowed to be tested

and grow, my life will be inconsequential and non-eventful

even for those who know me. I have to believe in the common

goodness of people, I have to trust that my life matters on this

journey because there are others also on this journey, and I

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Smile

~Nat King Cole~

Smile

Though your heart is aching

Smile

Even though it's breaking When there are clouds

In the sky

You'll get by If you smile

Through your fear and

sorrow Smile

And maybe tomorrow

You'll see the sun Come shining through

For you

You must keep on trying

Smile

What's the use of crying? You'll find that life

Is still worth-while

If you just smile

Smile

Light up your face with gladness

Hide every trace of sadness

Although a tear May be ever so near

That's the time

You must keep on trying Smile

What's the use of crying?

You'll find that life Is still worth-while

If you just smile

Keep on smiling

Blessed be the Blind

have to take the steps of faith

because that’s the only way to

fulfill my purpose on this journey.

The train will finally pull into the

station for each of us and we will

have to taste death. However, as

easy as it is for you and me to close

our eyes each night, it may not be

equally as easy to close one’s eyes

when the train stops. How I have

lived my life, the outcome of my life

that justifies my seat, the memories

and the witnesses I have to my life

is the proof of life that will

ultimately close my eyes. There is

no story that inspires me so much

as that of Abraham Lincoln. When

he was killed, his eyes were

closed, not by mere death but by

his history, what he had fought for,

how he had made his seat worthy of

his life and time here. He had left it

all on the field of life and fought for

his fellow man irrespective of what

he saw of them.

That could also be said of many like Ghandi, but it need not

be few and far between if you and I can understand that we

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Blessed be the Blind need to be here. This is not God’s work; it is how you and I

are made. Much like anyone on a journey, when the time

comes to step off the train, I will take another look at my

seating area. This time, it will not be to see if I had left

something behind, but rather to recall the memories and say

thank you for the journey. The memories of the good times

will be there, so will the memories of the hard-times. Some

of us will be filled with anger for all the pain and suffering,

some will be glad it is over, and yet others satisfied that

they had been on this journey. There will be the last

questions; did I do my best on this journey? Have I done all I

came to do? What have I left undone? After the questions

have been asked, all will be left to providence as the night

falls.

So, as I stood on the platform, waiting for the train, my eyes

again filled with tears as I put on my headset to listen to

“Nessun Dorma” by Andrea Bocelli. I began to meditate on

some of the words; “None shall sleep! Even you, watch the stars,

that tremble with love and with hope. But my secret is hidden

within me, my name no one shall know. No! On your mouth I will

tell it when the light shines. And my kiss will dissolve the silence

that makes you mine! ..and we must, alas, die. Vanish, o night!

Set, stars! At dawn, I will win! I will win!” The doctor tells me

the five year survival rate is about sixty percent, but there

is hope because after the surgery they may have a better

prognosis. I am here and I know the train I have been on.

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Nessun Dorma

~Puccini Turandot~

None shall sleep! None

shall sleep! You too, princess,

In your cold room You watch the stars

Trembling of love and

hope...

But the mistery of me is locked inside of me

No one will know my

name!

No, no, I will say it on

your mouth,

When the light will shine!

And my kiss will melt the silence that makes you

mine.

No one will know my

name...

And we will,

unfortunately, have to die, die!

Leave, oh night! Set, stars! Set, stars!

At sunrise I will win! I will win! I will win!

Blessed be the Blind

When the train stops, with the

memories left behind, the only question

that will remain on my mind and your

mind is this; am I afraid to close my

eyes now that the night has come?

With the angels as my witnesses, I pray

my life to close my eyes. This is my

seat, this is my faith, this is my stage,

and this is my life.

So as I stood in front of the mirror,

knowing that I am alive because I had

met my angel, tears flooded my eyes and

welled down my cheeks. The same eyes

that could be blind to why we are or be a

light to my faith are now filled with

tears. I prayed to find time to cry more

because I knew I had found my gift.

The tears meant I could see. I will live.

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Such Is Life The incredible story of the fate we share,

the gift within, and why you need to be here

A story to help each of us discover the gift within us, with the hope that we may

find the courage to make it about people we share time and space with every

moment. It takes our own lives’ stories and its witnesses to ultimately close our

eyes in sleep.

As a boy in Africa, he had dreams just like every child, but those dreams would

not have been if it were not for the goodness of the people he share time and

space with. He gives us insight into the struggles of a boy and the drive that took

him from what could have been a nonexistent life to one that charts the

aspirations of every child from humble beginnings.

Your gift will never be until the stories of your life are stories of people. The

risk to the gift is an obsession with the inanimate luxuries and ideas exclusive of

people. I found it because my angel chanced upon me when I was dying. He was

here because I am here. He was different, but differences have nothing to do

with one’s seat but rather providence’s purpose for us. Like him, I had no choice

in my life’s package. We had a lifetime’s opportunity to share time and space.

What we do with such opportunities ultimately reveals our gift and a

contentment that closes one’s eyes for eternity.

This is the story one little boy, who shares your fate, discovered. He is here

because you are here.