You are standing in front of your room after a long day, you can’t wait to get in and feel the soft cushion of your bed against your back. That, for now is bae and the only obstruction between you and bae is this key that appears to be hooked inside the key hole, making it difficult to move talkless of open the door. This can’t be happening, like which kind yawa be this.
Anyway you know it would open, if you keep trying. So you give it a second try still a bit enthusiastic, imagining how good a cold shower would feel against your skin after getting rid of this thick suit that was definitely not appropriate for the weather, but yes you had to look “on point” for the presentation that turned out horrible with the witty and very arrogant questions that seemed to slap you in the face from left, right, centre. “Mtcheew, all the people in that office eh, only God knows what they have against me” you mutter whilst opening your eyes to the fact that the door is still not opening. “ah, okay, this is the third time, it better open or else…” (okay, or else what?), just open abeg let me get inside already.
Still not bulging. 4th attempt, 5th attempt, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th… Abeg Oga/Madam how long before you finally scream in frustration and snap at everything in your way like it is their fault the damn door ain’t opening. How long before you finally storm off to get a carpenter to come and break the door. How long before you even lose interest in this piece you are reading because well you don’t see the point…”yet”. Patience my dear, im getting some where.
I want to share a story with you. A story you have heard countless times in different forms and context, i’m almost certain by now it has been over-clichelised (permit me). But yes, i read it a while back and for some reason, something about it just made me go wild in amazement.
It is about the woman who had an incurable health issue for 12 years and spent her life searching for a solution until finally she was healed after believing that touching the hem… you get.
Let’s delve into small maths. With all things being equal, assuming she visited 1 healer per week, 52 weeks make one year, therefore 52 healers in 1 year and 624 healers in 12 years before finally meeting Jesus.
Once again, let’s assume she visited 1 healer per month, 12 months make one year =12 healers per year and therefore 144 healers in 12 years before finally meeting the real one.
Finally, let’s just say she visited 1 healer per year, that is 12 healers in 12 years before finally meeting the one that was able to heal her.
How did she manage to remain so hopeful and enthusiastic after so many failed attempts. I mean how does one still believe “strongly” that this one would work out after meeting 624 people who dissapointed. Don’t judge me but i mean after the 10th attempt i probably would have come to accept that this is the end, there is no way any more, but really, she kept believing.
I’ll end here by asking you amazing person still reading… how long before “I’m done”?.
Thanks for sticking through, don’t forget to share if this blessed you.