When The Light Dims

CHAPTER 1: SOPURU

"Jesus said, Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

- Matthew 19:14

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to you."

As the singing voices seemed to be getting closer and more audible, I twisted and turned to see my pajamas-clad parents as I met their warm smiles which extended to their eyes that held small bags underneath.

"Happy birthday, our darling," echoed my parents.

My face lit up with joy at the sound of birthday. I squealed. Mum bent over to give me a kiss on the cheek and the both of them climbed onto my bed to give me a bear-smoldering hug.

"My baby, the apple of my eyes, omalicha nwa, the daughter of her father, Sopuru, daddy loves you," dad said with a sudden softness in his tone.
"Obi m, she is not only your daughter o. I hope you remember I carried her for nine months in my womb. See how she takes after me," mum retorted, gesturing towards her large belly to make her point vivid.

I giggled at her jealous tone. Leave mum to find a way to bicker about small issues.

"Yes ma, she only took your genes." Dad surrendered before it turned into one of their many squabbles. "But today is all about our daughter and she's a big girl now."

Mum advised that we pray first. She thanked God for my life from conception till that very day. She prayed for God to bless me with a befitting birthday gift for this year including a good husband. I struggled to keep my chuckle silent. If she could ask for the moon and stars, I was sure she would have added them to the list. 

Dad gestured to the door. "Let's go down."

I remembered the topmost thing in my daily routine that couldn't be substituted for anything.

"I will join you later. please let me have a quiet time with God first", I quickly responded to him.

They glanced at each other, then back at me and I saw the look of comprehension in their eyes whenever they heard me say something related to God. They tried to keep their cool and acted normal but they gave it away by the glint in their eyes and their awkward smiles. Yet, they recovered in time and excused me.

I knelt down by my bed side looking up to the ceiling, picturing the face of God in my mind, just right above me.

I whispered to Him, "Dear God, thank you for adding another year to my life." I inhaled heavily "Although, I am scared. I can't do this on my own. I need you. I'm only nine. How do you want me to do this?"

I shivered at the thought of going to Hope hospital to pray for the sick children.

"What difference would I make? This is beyond me. What if they hate me? What If I don't have the courage to talk to them? What if..."

The more what 'ifs' spilled out of me, the more my palms became sweaty and my fingers bunched the sheets together. I finally resulted to my pink bible underneath my pillow. I sat on my bed and rapidly flipped the pages, wondering where to start from.

Suddenly I heard a crystal-clear voice that had always given me a feeling of comfort and certainty each time I heard it. I have accustomed it to be the voice of God.

"2Timothy 1:7", the voice whispered to me.

I immediately flipped the pages till I reached the Bible verse that read: "For he has not given me the spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind".

I smiled with gumption as I took in His words. The rapid beating of my heart decreased. My hazel eyes glowed in the mirror opposite my bed as the sun rays reflected in them. I didn't see the shy nine-year-old from a few minutes ago. I saw a Christian with faith ready to take on this challenge like a warrior ready for a battle with undaunted confidence.

                      

At the age of nine, I knew I was not like most children. I have always seen myself as both different and special; not because my parents had often told me so. It was something that God told me specifically by Himself when I gave my life to Christ.

On the first Sunday in June last year at our family church in Ajao, I was tired of always staying in the children section, so I decided to seat with my parents and other adults. Since the kids there behaved too childish, I chose to be around adults. I didn't know my life would change that moment Pastor Abidemi mounted the podium. The elderly servant of God took his time on the altar, eyeing the congregation as if he was taking inventory of the church. He spoke with fondness and clarity about a man who forsook his life so that the human race would have everlasting life. He continued talking about the length that man went and suffered for us with so much ferocity to the extent of being nailed to the cross, I began to wamble. Neither my parents nor my teachers had ever explained it this way to me as I wondered why one would go through all these for mere human beings in the first place.

"Jesus is His name and He did it because He loves you." The pastor's voice boomed.

The congregation burst into applause, echoing the name, Jesus. I didn't acknowledge the tears rolling down my cheeks until Dad wiped them with his handkerchief.

"Why are you crying, darling?"

"I want to know Jesus." My heart was filled with longing. "You will, soon," dad assured me as he rubbed my shoulder.

When the pastor made the altar call I squirmed in my seat. To go in front of all those people was not something I could do.

"Go, my child!"

I looked at my parents and spun around to see who might have said that but no one seemed to be paying attention to me. Yet the voice kept saying "Go" with assurance. I knew that was my opportunity to know Him the more and I didn't want to miss it. I stood up to discover that I was the only one standing and I began the walk to the alter as though I was walking down the aisle like a bride walking with tears in my eyes to meet my groom.

The air was stiff. People stared  at me with bewilderment. I felt as if the ground would open to swallow me up. Then I caught the smiles plastered on the face of my parents urging me to go on. I continued with  a smile on my face till I got to the pastor. The pastor smiled and told me to repeat after him:

"Lord, Jesus I know that I am a sinner. I surrender my life to you. Forgive me. Come into my life. I accept you as my Lord and my personal Savior."

I repeated with my whole heart and by the time I was done, I could hear the whole congregation applauding and cheering me on. In the midst of the applause, there was something else my hazel eyes caught on the altar as a radiant beam of light surrounded it. I saw men and women in white gowns. Their hair glowing like gold and their skins as bright as the sun. They blew their trumpets and danced as though celebrating the return of a lost child.

Initially, I thought it was a just a figment of my imagination until I heard the same voice that encouraged me to give my life saying to me, "You are the light of the world. A city that is placed on a hill cannot be hidden."

At that moment I knew it was God that had opened my eyes to see His angels.