One day, I met with an atheist He challenged me He told me my ‘religion’ wasn’t real He said Jesus did not exist Well, not quite He said Christianity was a form of mental slavery He questioned the content of the Bible and went ahead to say those stories were fabricated.
He challenged my faith Step by step He provided me with reasons He said the exodus did not happen because scuba divers, after several attempts, had no evidence to it. He said Christmas was not real and so was Easter He laughed at me and admonished me to seek enlightenment He pleaded with me to not follow blindly.
I listened with rapt attention because this was not my first experience with one of this kind. I once fell into the ditch by allowing one to lead me. That one succeeded because I started to doubt God’s existence I decided to rely on me but instead of feeling empowered, wise and knowledgeable I felt distraught and empty I was confused. I felt lost. I had fallen.
I was locked in a cage. Nothing made sense and then I decided to do the U-turn I came back and pleaded for forgiveness. I sought the presence of the Holy Spirit and vowed never to let go of Him. The other side wasn’t meant for me What I needed was His presence, love, grace, goodness and mercy I found it and was overjoyed. I prefer to face battles with Him than none without Him. I have found peace and I won’t be convinced. Not this time, my friend. Not this time.
In 20, 30, 40 or 50 When your brains are tired And your bones frail And your bladder weak And darkness all you see When your epidermis sheds And memory not as sharp And your teeth begin to fall out And hair not as pretty When you can sniff death so close So close you can almost breathe it in your nostrils Will you be ready?
In 20, 30, 40 or 50 Will your eyes be prepared to shut? And your spirit to bid the world farewell? Will the call be received with fear or fulfillment? And your body be ready to rest in peace? Or rather in despair, full of regret and anguish? Frightful and afraid of the coldness of the grave And uncertain of the life you’ll meet.
What if you do not have 20, 30, 40 or 50? And your brains never get tired Your bones still as hard Your bladder not as weak. And your sight still perfect. What if your epidermis is intact And your memory as sharp as ever. And your teeth so strong to break the bones And your hair ever so lustrous Will you still be ready to exit?
If you had 1, 2, 3 or 4 For your spirit to desert this body But your brains and bones and bladder and sight and skin and memory and teeth and hair unblemished Will you look down and back and smile? Will the clock stop ticking and the bells stop chiming and the birds stop chirping? Will it be noticed that a beautiful soul is lost?
It may not be in 20, 30, 40 or 50 It could be in 1, 2, 3 or 4 Will you be ready to bid this earth farewell? Not in sorrow But in joy, you’d love to see how the world mourns at your passing. Will you be ready?