ACTIVATION TIME

The golden sword swayed back and forth… its tip stuck in the rock… on the summit of Mt. Morr… No

one could retrieve it except the Chosen One… the winds bore whispers that the hordes were gathering … the dark winds would soon be on the Valleys of Morr… This was the last of the Morran Empire to be taken by the dark hordes…

For centuries the dark hordes had raided the first six Empires of Morr and pillaged it. Many Morrans had been taken captive and were now slaves for the hordes… building fortresses and strengthening the awe of the hordes. 

The Hordes had laid siege against Morr for over a decade and there was no telling what would become of earth once the Hordes took over Morr… maybe a cataclysm… maybe Armageddon… maybe the skies would turn red and the sun would bleed… No one knew for certain… but there was a prophecy that a messiah would be born… and he would defeat the hordes 

The prophecy was supposed to be fulfilled exactly 29 years, 11 months and 28 days ago… but there was no sign that a special baby had been born neither was there any gossip about a hero in distant lands. Earth hath lost hope and the valiant men of Morr had gathered at the foot of the Mountain ready for battle… they had resigned their fate to fight to their death… with or without a Messiah 

Kimka, the crown Prince of Morr, had peaked Mt. Morr several times in his quest to find the Messiah… at some point he felt he was the messiah. On several occasions he had attempted to retrieve the sword but failed every time. Legend had it that once the Messiah touched the sword’s hilt, the wings of the golden eagle on the sword’s handle would envelope his hand like gloves… it would remain that way until the last of the hordes was slain… 

Kimka saw the approaching dark clouds and his rage soared… He attempted to retrieve the sword again but ended up screaming in frustration… 

“Why are you screaming?” a familiar voice asked calmly… Kimka wheeled around, his sword out of its scabbard in a flash… eyes raging… blood racing… no one ventured up this mountain… at least not Morrans… Morrans revered it because of the golden sword that was stuck on the summit… 

Kimka was surprised to see the wood-worker’s son… 

“How did you get up here?” Kimka puzzled… looking round to see if there were others… The wood-worker’s son was not a warrior and as far as everyone knew he was a wood-worker too… he didn’t look like the type to go mountain climbing… especially not Mt. Morr… His name was Yeshua, right? Yeah it was… 

“The same way you did?” Yeshua responded as he walked towards the rock with the golden sword.

“What are you doing up here?” Kimka stood in Yehsua’s way

“I’ve come to take what is mine… you?” Yeshua sidestepped Kimka 

“And what is yours?” Kimka followed Yeshua 

Yeshua hopped on the rock and held the hilt of the sword… suddenly, the wings of the eagle, wrapped themselves around his hand and he pulled the sword out of the rock with ease… immediately the sword slid out, the skies opened and a colossal band of light struck Yeshua from above… 

Right before Kimka, Yehsua’s appearance was transmuted from drab to glorious… the wood-worker’s robe gave way to golden armour and his appearance was like that of a god… unknown to Kimka the messiah was God… 

Kimka’s feet couldn’t carry him anymore… all this time… he had walked past the messiah, looked down on him, scorned him and even bullied him once in a while without realizing who he was… no one had respect for the wood-worker’s son… Kimka fell on his knees in awe… muttering - “all this time…all this time” 

“There is a time for everything” Yeshua replied “a time to be born… a time to die… a time to prepare for a battle… and a time to fight the battle”

Kimka raised his face and stared at the glorious being standing in front of him… 

“No matter what your mission on earth is… if you are not ready… you will not be activated… I’ve spent the last 30 years getting ready for this day” Yeshua continued “Come… It’s time”

ORIENTATION OF A KING V

“Dad” Eti whispered again, but the wheezing sound in Kunle Smith’s ear wouldn’t let the sound register. It

was the fierce desert wind. A storm was nigh. Even though Kunle couldn’t see the storm, the tell-tale signs were enough to write a sonnet about its monstrosity.

 “This is going to be bad” Kunle screamed over the wheezing wind as he looked down to see Eti’s lips moving. He picked up his boy, wrapped a shawl over his face and went against the wind, picking his steps gingerly in order to avoid sinking. He was hoping to find a boulder that could shield them from the winds but even he knew that hope at this point was a couch on an ocean. 

After trudging for about ten minutes, Kunle knelt down at the crest of the dune he had climbed, set Eti down, and removed the shawl from his face.

Kunle had taught Eti that God was always on time to meet our needs… never early, never late and the boy had requested that they go to the desert without any supplies and test the proposition. Despite Kunle’s explanations that God’s assurance for provision was no reason to tempt him, the boy wouldn’t let up.

Kunle was skeptical about the whole thing until he had a vision and God assured Him… this was a lesson the boy needed to learn experientially. 

So three days ago, after flying all the way to Maiduguri from Ikeja, they boarded a taxi from the airport to the Nigerian-Chad border – driving for over 8 hours to the Monguno end.The bearded taxi driver couldn’t understand why a man and his son would get down at the middle of nowhere and walk off into the midday heat of a sweltering desert. Was this a modern version of the Abraham-Isaac fairy-tale?

In the last three days they had wandered from the outskirts of the desert (featuring occasional trees & boulders) to bare strips of sand (blistering in the day and frosty at night). There had been no oases, no fruit or vegetable tree in sight and no animal even. They had not eaten or drunk anything in over 48 hours – they had their last on the taxi. Eti had ceased talking yesterday and Kunle had considered returning. 

Yet, when he asked Eti if it was time to return, the boy shook his head in the negative 

This was a huge mistake… Kunle thought to himself… was he sure God had really spoken to him? Why did he even agree to this sort of madness? He considered how far they had come without experiencing any life form other than sand. This was one lesson too aggravated… he decided then that this would be the last practical lesson Eti would be given.

He took out his satellite phone and Eti’s weak eyes bulged.

“What are you doing dad?” Kunle made out the whispered words as he observed the caked lips of his only son. 

“Saving your life son” Kunle responded. As he dialled the private helicopter service he had chattered for a week (anticipating current situations), Eti tugged weakly at his sleeve and he looked down at the boy. 

“Son, I’m sorry, but we shouldn’t tempt God” Kunle rubbed his son’s head as Eti pointed at something behind his father.

Kunle turned to see what it was… a hamlet… how? That wasn’t there moments ago… hold on, that’s where the dusty wind had blown from… Kunle’s shock and disappointment knew no bounds… His son’s faith beat his!

“God is always on time daddy” Eti whispered again, his face too strained for a smile…

***

This is for dreamers like Abraham... I have no idea how far out you have gone… but if God has sent you forth to a land that you do not know… and circumstances are telling you it’s time to pack up and go back home… Please don’t … God is always on time… He’s not asleep!

ASSASSIN'S CREED

The timing was perfect… Whisker stood perfectly still as he observed The Job. His black spandex garbs

embraced the darkness that the crowded wardrobe offered. He was in the suits section and knew he wouldn’t have any problems executing this… yet, there was this edgy air in the atmosphere.

The Job approached the wardrobe to hang his suit and Whisker retrieved his jagged Bowie knife from the scabbard… the order had read “GUTTURAL AND BLOODY… and bring evidence”… Whisker intended to do just that even though he preferred not having contact with jobs… The Agency paid well, so sniping would have to wait for the next job… 

The Job pulled out a hanger… Whisker eased forward… his grip on the Bowie taut

“Hi” The Job said, throwing Whisker off balance “How long have you been here?”

Whisker wasn’t sure if The Job was talking to him or communicating with someone else… but there was no one else in the room, and The Job wasn’t wearing any communicating device…

 “Whisker, right? That’s what The Agency calls you” The Job said as he hung the blazer and walked towards his dressing mirror… leaving Whisker in a mind mud.

 In all his years of executing jobs, Whisker had never seen or heard about anyone act so calmly in the face of death… and Whisker had been an executioner for approximately 22 years… He started out as a government executioner… and as the case always is, time came for him to be silenced but he dropped out of the radar completely. 

Four years later he resurfaced as a freelance assassin listed on The Agency’s yellow pages… most ruthless and particularly keen on jobs that had corrupt government officials as targets. When he received this assignment he had been told that The Job was a preacher with a 9, 000-seater auditorium. The preacher’s messages were thwarting the passage of an “evil” bill in the senate and the committee needed him out of the way.

“I heard the assassin’s creed allowed for a retirement plan… what’s yours?” The Job (Preacher) continued as he pulled off his wrist watch and dumped it on the mirror desk. The Preacher sank on the bed and beckoned Whisker to come out. Whisker had no idea what pulled him out but he found himself stepping out of the wardrobe into the poorly lit room – the only source of illumination was the bedside lamp.

“The Committee sent you, right?” The Preacher patted his bed and Whisker sat down… Whisker could not fathom where the tears came from, but they flowed freely… he struggled to maintain his composure but bawled instead… his heart gave him away… somehow he knew there was a force that had overwhelmed him, yet knew not what force it was…

He nodded in response to The Preacher’s question 

“Too bad” The Preacher shook his head in pity “they picked the wrong preacher… son, it’s time for you to come home… Jesus is knocking at the door of your heart… the emotions you are experiencing are your sins struggling to gain elbow room” 

Finally, Whisker stuttered amidst sobs “what do I do?”

“Repeat after me” The Preacher replied “Dear Father…” 

***

It doesn’t matter what you have done or where you have been, Jesus has been to the worst place ever for you… and His arms are wide open to welcome you home… Come home, wherever you are!

ORIENTATION OF A KING IV

Finally… they arrived on the crest of the hill. The skull-shaped hill teemed with inveterate sinners

raining obscenities at four men; the innocent man wrongly accused… the troubled father asked to help the innocent man… and two hardened thieves – one repentant, the other repugnant.

 Kunle Smith knew the scene was about to get more gory and hugged Eti tight. Down at the barracks they had witnessed the height of man’s despicable nature. Eti’s cheeks were still wet… his body still shook from the fright… and he could feel the boy’s soul shiver through his skin. If this were a movie Eti would have had to wait five more years before witnessing this ordained gore…

 The innocent man Jesus had been torn by the licking tongues of the barbed whip… bits of his skin hung about his exposed bones and the crown of thorns comfortably dug into his scalp like fitting gloves. The swelling on his left eye and the torn lip created a caricature of the menacing Jesus Eti had heard about. No movie had this much horror

 They couldn’t see far ahead of them because the crowd was hard pressed about the Roman soldiers and the “criminals”. Kunle Smith heard a voice that he couldn’t recognize but reminded him of everything beautiful… “Let them through” it said

 Of its own accord the crowd parted and an aisle ran down to the centre of the hill where the three condemned men stood… actually, one was kneeling… the innocent man Jesus. Kunle walked his boy down the aisle and felt trepidation run through Eti’s hand. Kunle himself couldn’t shake off the plethora of emotions that he felt now… but this was a lesson that Eti needed NOW! 

 Unknown to him a lone tear was meandering down his left cheek. 

By the time they arrived at the end of the aisle, the innocent man Jesus had been laid on the cross that he had belaboured up the steep hill. His left ribcage was exposed with jagged edges. The blood on the cartilage covering the ribcage glistened in the midmorning sun… light found blood… innocent blood trickling from the weight of darkness… Spirit cleansing blood! 

 Jesus’ left arm was stretched, while the right arm was held down over the hole on that end of the cross… the sacrificial lamb brought to the party… Kunle could hear his son whimper. This was no sight for a thirteen year old… but the devil doesn’t consider age when he floods the internet with mental traps… Eti had to witness this… 

Eti saw the grotesque Roman soldier place a thick nail over Jesus’ open palm. As the hammer came down, Eti dug his face into his father’s side and screamed. The scream was muffled but loud enough to attract angry stares from the possessed onlookers near them. Kunle apologised with his gestures without muttering a word because his throat was choked with emotions. 

He had promised himself not to cry but when he heard metal meet metal… metal crush bone… bones pierce skin and the innocent man Jesus scream raggedly… his throat charred from thirst… Kunle let out bawls and dropped to his knees… he didn’t care what the onlookers thought. He hugged his son tightly and they bawled together. How could this be? How could another man bear such torture and pain for another man’s wrong? 

Then he remembered… this was no ordinary man at all… this was God in flesh… only God could love like this. While on his knees, he heard the saviour scream over and over… and the hammer kiss irreverently… and the crowd cheer to every clang… and his son let it all out on his shoulders… and his heart rent in many places…

Then Kunle remembered the lesson… he pulled himself away from his son… composed himself a bit and looked Eti in the eyes… but the boy wouldn’t look at him

“Eti” Kunle said amidst sobs “Remember this day whenever you feel the urge to sin… keep it safe in close memory… for Jesus Christ did all of these for you… that’s how much he loves you… and he would do it again without thinking twice… but once was enough for the world”