MIRROR MIRROR OF THE WORD

There Mike stood… staring at the dusty Bible he had just pulled out from the abandoned book shelf… He

had no idea who owned the Bible but had an inkling of how it had gotten into the bookshelf…

He grew up to know a studious preacher dad and an assiduous mum who spent 12 hours at work & 3 hours in the kitchen every week day – and her weekends where spent in community services. He never had anyone show him the ropes about anything from age 14. 

“Everything you need to learn about life is in the Bible” his dad would drum into his ears… the same words that drove him away from church… from the bible and from everything that was attached to Jesus. It was a rebellion against the factors that took away his parents’ love. 

 He got a call that his parents had an accident earlier that day while driving to a village in Osun State for missions. He didn’t feel pity or sadness when he heard the news; the only emotion that crossed his mind was an inexplicable calm. On his 19th birthday he had finally gathered the balls to walk away from home and not look back… and his relationship with his parents had grown worse from that day. 

“How could Christian parents be this mean?” Mike would tell anyone who cared to listen. 

He had arrived his parents abode late in the evening to avoid anyone in the estate seeing him. The ‘50s mini-duplex was deserted. 

As Mike considered the Bible, he observed that the edges were glowing. A phenomenon he hadn’t heard of before. He reached out and opened it carefully, ready to take to his heels if anything popped out of it. As the cover opened a bright light pierced through the semi darkness and Mike had to shield his eyes from the penetrating light. 

He stayed that way for about twenty seconds until he felt his eyes had adjusted to the brightness. He finally opened them and saw a glowing mirror suspended mid-air over the spot where the Bible had lain. He saw what looked like a human form in the mirror… but the image was shrivelled and looked infected with all sorts of skin irritations… it looked dead 

On close observation he realized that image had the same features he had… the mole on his nose was there and the eye-colour was the same. In fright he quickly observed his arm to see if he had any infections on it… his research showed different… so why did he look like a corpse on the mirror in front of him? 

He stepped closer to the mirror and observed faint letterings in the foreground… he mouthed the words “…as we continue to behold as in a mirror the glory of God, we are constantly being transfigured into His very own image in an ever increasing splendour…” 

As he mouthed these words… he saw part of the shrivelled face in the mirror peel off. And the skin under that part looked like a visual effects from a Sci-fi flick – it glowed. In confusion Mike mouthed the words again… yet again another portion of the shrivelled face peeled off revealing more glory on the image… and he could see the shrivelled skin float away into oblivion 

So Mike kept repeating the verse until the entire image was alive with glory… then the mirror collapsed like a folding pamphlet… once again it was the old dusty Bible… but Mike couldn’t stop mouthing the words, because he felt lighter every time he said them and he felt all the hate he felt for his parents fade away into oblivion…

SPANKING HOT

His wrist-watch ticked away… and all Gomez could do was wish that someone somewhere would somehow think of wandering into the abandoned warehouse in time to find him lying in the clotting wax of blood. His breaths were now coming in short gasps.

 Though brown skinned, Gomez knew he was paling because his lips caked and his throat felt desiccated – he didn’t need an MD to alert him that he was seconds away from dying of haemorrhage. To top it all off, he couldn’t move any limb. 

This wasn’t how Gomez thought today would turn out. He had woken up, had his devotion, cleaned up and reported to his office on Marina. He was a security guard at the Bank and was loved by the staff members and regular customers. He had won Most Friendly Staff Member four consecutive times since his resumption four months ago. 

He was busy welcoming and checking customers outside the banking hall when he heard gunshots inside. He quickly dispatched a distress call to the district’s Police Division just down Marina and rushed inside the banking hall amidst warnings from his colleague. 

The succeeding events were quite fuzzy. He entered the Banking Hall… saw a masked man point a double barrelled shotgun at a pregnant woman who was raining obscenities at the robbers… knew what would happen next… and dived in front of the woman… He blanked out.

When he came to, he was lying in this abandoned factory, his gaze quite a blur. He felt as if he was slipping between heaven and earth. He heard voices but couldn’t discern if they were angels or demons… He tried to ask who they were but he couldn’t even move his lips. This was definitely not the end… this couldn’t be it… what happened to the call that he had received? 

He thought about the songs he was about to record… He had spent over five years working menial jobs and saving money to wax an afrobeat gospel album. In those five years, he had seen God move mightily everywhere he ministered. He couldn’t die just yet… His purpose had not yet been fulfilled. 

The verse that he had been meditating on all morning surfaced in his thoughts… Psalm 103:20 - Bless the Lord, you His angels, you mighty ones who do His commandments, hearkening to the Voice of His words. The verse came so strong that he thought he saw the verse float into his visual range… Lying there, struggling with what little oxygen was left in his brain, he tried to figure out what this meant. 

Then He remembered Psalm 91 saying that God has given His angels charge over us and Gomez knew there were angels around waiting for him to give the command. The voices he heard were angels that had been given charge over him… waiting for him to proclaim God’s word concerning the situation. 

The only verse he could think of that was relevant to his weakened body was By His stripes we are healed… he continued thinking about the verse till he felt energy surge from his feet to his lips… finally, the words floated out… first it was a whisper… then he heard himself… subsequently he screamed it …By Christ’s stripes I am healed. Then everything went white… 

When his vision cleared, he was still lying on his back but saw giant surgery lights… and giant surgeons that had halos around their bodies… they donned masks but he could see their eyes - they felt like orbs of love… forceps, scalpels, gauzes, scissors, sutures and more surgical appliances were passed over his frame but he felt no pain… then he passed out

He woke once again… the blood on the floor had caked and it was dark by now but he didn’t feel drained like the last time. His vision adjusted to his surroundings and he realized that he was still at the abandoned factory. He felt alive and full of energy like he’d just guzzled two cans of energy drink plus a cup of coffee… no, better… this felt like he had an elixir running in him that could not be described with human words. 

The first question that came to his thoughts was why did I even get shot in the first place…? He was a hot Christian that prayed at least three hours daily and meditated on the word in season and out of season… 

Gomez stood up and checked himself… there was a hole in his left breast pocket and the shirt was caked with dried blood… he ripped open the shirt but found no injury on his chest… he rubbed his body all over and found no injury… this was inexplicable… unbelievable couldn’t describe what he was feeling… no word could… 

Gomez suddenly realized what had happened and why… the pregnant woman in the banking hall was not a Christian… but her baby was a great apostle sent to his generation… and Gomez was a security guard at that particular branch of that particular bank for a particular day as this…

And you say God doesn’t conduct an orchestra?