The Message. 


1 2 3 4_this was how her body swayed as she walked pass us, 5 6 7 8_this was the number of eyes dangling with her every sway slowly increasing and as she walked every eye couldn’t help but trail her every step and every head just had to turn almost 180 degrees. Why the sudden shift in our attention you asked, well, I really can’t say. Was it because of the way her hair danced so freely in the wind or was it her red long gown having two long slits by the sides that revealed her fair flawless thighs ? I really can’t say or maybe it was the way she swayed from side to side even in her tight gown that revealed not only her shape but the type of clothes she wore underneath too, maybe that was what caused our eyes to move back and forth, left and right, dancing to the rhythm of her every step… What was it that made us turn you ask, I really do not know but here is one thing I know that if you had taken a peep into the eyes of everyone that stared;  mine, the young man by the side stretching his hands in the wrong direction to pay for the corn he just bought and the bike rider who almost fell into the gutter because he was distracted, everyone, you would see that in each soul was a question, a thought, an idea, a deadly desire, a story gentle unfolding in the wrong direction. If only she knew that she had just sent a message, she probably would have sent a better one. 

________________________________________

He hated the thought of giving out his hard earned money, not even to the poor beggars on the street. Everyone should work for themselves, no one should be meant to suffer for anyone’s misfortune, he thought. To him, it was not his fault that the crippled  beggar lost his legs at an early age in life, so why should he have to pay with his hard earn money, why? If only he had seen the look in his daughter’s eyes when he screamed at that little beggar girl who ran after them with her rickety legs, round belly, scruny arms and unkempt hair, if only he had read the mind of his little princess as she stared into the eyes of that beggar girl and saw the emptiness in her soul, if only he knew the message he sent when he said to her that he didn’t have any money even when she knew that they had just gotten some excess change from the woman who sold biscuit to her a few minutes ago. If only he knew the message he sent into the mind of his twelve year old daughter, he probably would have spent more time composing a better one. 

________________________________________

She loved her husband and loved God too but once in a while, she gulps down a bottle of beer or two. This beer which turns her into a wild bear, making her act, feel and behave like she owns the world, shouting and cursing her husband, threatening him with a knife in her hands while her kids hide behind the closet with tears in their eyes. And even though her neighbor hear  the noise too, no one could dare to interfere, they knew her too well. Her kids say a prayer or two still with the tears flowing from their eyes, hoping that God would hear and save daddy from the wrath of mum and if he has time to spare, save mommy too from herself. 

If only, if only she knew that her life was a message, maybe, just maybe she would have sent a better one. 


________________________________________

It was 2:55 in the afternoon and he was already bored, he picked up his phone and logs into facebook hoping to find something interesting, something fun, anything to cure this disease called boredom. He scrolls up and down, left and right but still there was no cure, he had only one notification and even though there were over a hundred persons online, it seems like no one had time for him. He was desperate for attention. He thinks of a way to increase the likes on his timeline, he thought of making a post with a message, some morals but then again, he had been doing that for a while now and where has that gotten him? Nowhere, post like that don’t pay anymore, he thought. The light bulb in his head comes on, he had an idea, he knows what to write, ‘s*x, money, b*t*h, sh*t, sh*t’ was what followed and soon the likes doubled, he had gotten what he wanted, his wall soon got the attention of a market place and the cry of boredom was drowned out by the loud and busy noise of vanity and so was the voice of sanity and humanity. He had got what he wanted but was that really what he needed? If only he knew, if only he knew that his life was a message, he probably would have spent enough time writing the right words. 
# So in whatever you do, please know that even though our life is a gift from God, it is also a message being sent out. Every single thing we do forms the ink used in writing the script of this movie called life. The way we talk, walk and act even when it seems like no one is watching is a message sent to our neighbors, children, family and even our future. The real question is what type of message are you writing?? 
#remember, every message is meant to be read and every story is meant to be heard. So tell me, with the kind of life you are living, what story do you want to tell?  Think about this….Selah. 
#His_Storyteller #Stay Inspired.

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