Going through the process: A lesson from Mr. Job of Uz

I always look forward to Sunday service, it’s a time to be refilled with The Word and enjoy God’s presence. This Sunday service was a blessing to me and it would be selfish of me not to share it with you, so sit back, relax and read on.

The devotional was taken from the book of Job 1:1-12.

A man called Job lived in a country called Uz. This man was good and honest. Job respected God. And Job refused to do evil deeds. He had

·         7 sons and 3 daughters

·         7000 sheep

·         3000 camels

·         500 pairs of oxen

·         500 donkeys and many servants

Job was the greatest man in the east, his sons used to hold birthday parties in their houses. They would eat and drink together, with their three sisters. Afterwards, Job prayed for them. At dawn, he took one animal for each child. He killed the animals. Then, he burned the animals as a gift to God. Job did this because he was worried about his children. He said, ‘Perhaps my children did something evil. Perhaps they insulted God.’ So, Job did these things often.

One fateful day, the angels came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan, the accuser also came with them (I assume this is a kind of Monday meeting), God was so boastful of Job that He rubbed it in on Satan, and Satan accused Job.

Satan was of the opinion that Job stayed faithful to God because of his wealth and comfort, and then it was decided to put him on trial by stripping him off of all his wealth, but there was an exception! V12 reads, but on the man himself do not lay a finger.

As always, my amiable Pastor Ayoola-Abolade defined his terms.

Process is defined as a series of acting directed towards a specific aim or series of circumstances ALLOWED by God to produce change or development in a person.

On this earthly sojourn, God did not promise us a smooth cruise all the way, however, He assured us that He will be with us through the rivers of difficulty  and fire of oppression. Is 43:2.

We will all experience our moment of waiting and delay; this period of wilderness varies from one individual to another. Some last for few days, and some for as long as they live, the most important thing to note during this period is that we must hold on tight to God. He will set a limit to how far the devil can push you, like he did to Job! During the delay,

·         There is a focus/concentration on such a person to the extent that such a person cries to God for help

·         God deliberately removes the hedge around such a person

·         God gives permission to the devil

·         He sets limits to the devil on how far he can push you

·         At the end, your latter will be greater than your former ….if you hold on

The puzzling question is if Job was blameless and pure, why did God put him through the process?

When the Bible says that Job was blameless, it does not mean that he was absolutely sinless. It means that he was a God-fearing man who sought to do what was right before the Lord. Job's awareness of his own sins is acknowledged by the fact that he sacrificed animals to the Lord as atonement for his sins as recorded in chapter 1.

Going through the next chapters, we leant that Job experienced fear and spoke too much, when you are experiencing adversity, don’t talk too much or blame one of your ancestors for your misfortune, as we all do Job 3

God allows such troubles so that we learn to trust God more (1 Peter 1:7). Even when we suffer, we love God deeply. And God gives joy to us (1 Peter 1:8).

For each test of Job, God wants to make you a better person and He indeed proves this by making your latter better than the former, He refines us during this process to take away those habits He does not want in our life.

This is the part I love most, check out Mr. Job’s asset after he recovered from his financial downturn

·         14 000 sheep

·         6000 camels

·         1000 pairs of oxen

·         1000 donkeys

·         7 sons

·         3 daughters who were the most beautiful women in the entire country

Pastor closed by praying that God takes each of us through ‘the process’, do you think anyone echoed an Amen????

Till next Sunday, stay blessed!

Kidnap: the new "kid" on the block

Only in 9ja, that’s the saying that goes with the absurdities and general madness of the people of this once-a-great-nation Nigeria.
Strange things happens daily, stranger things by the second. It is only natural to conclude that once you can survive in 9ja, you can survive anywhere.
The last ten years in Nigeria has birthed vices ranging from election rigging, financial crimes, cultism, assassination, terrorism, and most recently, the new ‘kid’ on block, kidnap.
You will agree with me that there was an era in Nigeria when parents were so over-protective of their wards that they hardly let them out of their sight for the fear of kidnap. However, kidnap at that time was a child’s play compared with this absurd madness and man’s injustice to man.
Once upon a time, kidnap began by abducting expatriates and ‘colored people’ with a ransom attached to it, many of us were unperturbed because the victims were relatively unknown to us and who cares, the oil companies pay for it. So we reclined our chairs and practically welcomed this madness into our lives.
Fast-forward to 2010-11, people are kidnapped in their homes for political and monetary basis, and now our kids are at the mercy of our domestic helps. Alas, we are awake and this nightmare has snatched sleep away from us all.
It crept in slowly and we are all shouting and ranting, it was Sharon Omolayo, a pupil of Avicenna school, Lagos that was kidnapped in December 2010. We are grateful to God that she was found and the awareness raised by thousands of Nigerians was mind blowing.
This time, it is Enioluwa Ogbenaike’s turn; a ten months old baby that was taken away from his parents’ home in Magodo, Lagos by his nanny on Sunday, February 13 and was never seen again. The nanny is believed to be working with some unknown persons.
The last I heard on this is that these evil people have been contacting the parents of the child with about 20 different numbers within 6 days from Cameroun and other locations. Some say that a sum of 6 millon naira has been wired to them but they are still asking for thirty million naira.
What could have led the nanny to do this? Love of money?
All said and done, Baby Enioluwa is still missing and the parents are at the mercy of this evil persons. What can you do to help return this precious angel?
• If you have any information about Enioluwa or the nanny no matter how trivial, please call 07085534788, or the nearest police station. Enioluwa’s mother (Foluso) can be reached on this number, 08022228422.
• Keep praying for her return.
• Circulate the nanny’s picture and Baby Enioluwas to your contacts.
Finally, let us be watchful and security conscious especially with our domestic and company staffs.
Stop this madness called kidnapping!

Dear dad 2

Dear dad,



When I was at your bedside, I wept

When the news got to me, I wailed

When reality set in, I whispered

“You will be sorely missed”



Memories of my childhood floods my thought

Snippets of my teen hood flashes to my heart

I smile at the thoughts

“Great dad, great Moses”



How will life be without your jokes?

How do I write my story without you?

I smile at the unending thoughts

“I will keep you in my heart”



Dad, when the angels deliver this mail

I want you to know just this:

The day you left, tears filled the earth but

“Your spirit lives on “



I will carry on your good works

I will tell my generations about you

I will keep you in my heart”

“My one and only Obeki”



Until we meet at Jesus’ feet,

Until we meet to part no more

Until goodnight becomes goodday

Baba Sho, “I will keep you in my heart

Yours truly,



Atolly Konko, 123, Law……

Dear Dad

In memory of my great friend…
When I heard the news, I broke down in tears, “When?, I still saw him yesterday, I believed he’ll get through this…he always does”
Those were my thoughts when I heard that the great Obeki had passed away.
He was a survivor, a great orator, a renowned sociologist, a role model, dedicated politician, most of all, a loving dad!
Where do I start…from the days when you taught me to drive, days when you usually conjure “Short bread and TUC biscuits”, the only day you spanked me in my entire life, our academic chitchat and your numerous letters to me. How can I forget the numerous visits to my school and the day we disagreed.
You taught me my first big words… (genius, conjure, etc) and imbibed in me the culture of giving and helping, I have lost count of hundreds of students that you ensured gained admission to all level of academic institutions…..that is the great man that I had the privilege of growing with, that is the Sarumi of Egba land.
I miss you dearly and you will remain forever in my memory, I will carry on with your positive works and will tell my kids and grandkids about the charismatic man that shaped my world oyster.
Words fail me, I have so much to say yet the words are lost in my reverie, I reminisce on our past year…the good, bad and ugly but most of all the days you will dance for us and made us laugh till we cry.
My loving father lives on, death cannot be glad, knowing that it failed to wipe away those years we shared.
I know you are in heaven smiling at us, I love you daddy and this is telling the whole world what a great man you were.
Rest in peace, till we meet at Jesus’ feet.
Emi l’omo Sarumi olowe a serubote!
Atolly konko
Atolly Law
Atolly 123.

my five inches friend

Once upon a time when I was young, I watched in amazement how my mother carried herself in various types of high heeled shoes and sandals. I remember that I would wear her shoes and take a walk in the front of the mirror like a model, most times I fall and stumble and other times, I just got it right.

My mother will come in and laugh heartily, sometimes urging me on and then she tells me “you will get there soon, and thereafter, you will get tired of them”. I wondered how soon this time will come and if I will truly ever get tired of this “five inches wonder”.

As soon as I fell in love with dresses, my love for shoes began and it grew hot like fire, I would always insist on high heels whenever my mother shopped for us. It was high heels or nothing!

She will sometimes refuse my proposal and lecture me on the beauty of flats as well but I turned deaf anytime she tried to lecture me, and I could not wait to get into the University to shop for myself without having to listen to inaugural speeches before acquiring my database.

So, as soon as I was able to shop for myself I began to buy these inches in variant, so long as it comes with inches, I would shop. That was my journey to being a shoeholic.

I bought like today will not come, and I just loved the carriage and poise these inches gave me. I have a petite figure, and if you know what I mean heels are my best friends. I was glad I could walk and talk a shoulder above others; I was a queen in my world.

Who would blame me? When we were asked to make a line in the school assembly, yours truly was always part of the top five, so I would not blow a chance at being labeled or described as tall.

I cannot remember an inch so high that I could not walk in, even with the bad roads in school; I will walk like a pro in my high heels. My mother will look at my shoe collection and I am sure she blamed herself for encouraging me to walk a mile in her shoes as a child.
Then I got married and while expecting, I loathed to wear pumps, I still wore my heels till I was in my second trimester, but I always got disapproving glances from passer bys especially the older generations.

Some will walk up to me and give me series of lectures on the hazards of heels while pregnant while some will look at me with so much disgust that I will check myself if I was having a bad hair day. So, I just stopped wearing them.

It was already getting hard to walk in them anyway. I was always looking forward to my EDD partly because I could not wait to see this cute baby growing inside of me and also because I will be free to walk in my heels.

The nine month course came to an end, and I was so relieved.
But, did I jump right in my heels?

I wish I did, after an exhausting day of caring for the newborn and catching up with the rest of my life, those heels did not just matter anymore.

While in my second and third trimester, I had acquired a mass of gladiator sandals, flip flops, sports shoes, ballerina flats, trainers, and its company. I could not believe that miss-heel-or-nothing will be in these shoes.

And my mother, she did not fail to remind me that she was an octopus having predicted that such a time will come. My spouse will always laugh out to my chagrin and I always tell him that it was just for a while.

Post-natal came and I went back to my good old habit, however, this time I only shopped for the sake of my shoe rack. I would buy my heels quite alright, but I will not wear it for more than five times. The few times I wore them, I always changed to my flats.

Wearing these heels though it still felt good but the pain it caused was a nightmare. I wondered why I was subjecting my feet to such a horror, and I was quick to shop for lesser and comfortable inches. I am done with stilettos, or “Broom stick” as my mother referred to them.

Now I embrace pumps, wedges and platform like never before and I have grown to shop less and save more. Needless to say that I missed a step in those heels after post natal and so nobody had to lecture me, I was my own counselor. Beauty can be pain indeed.

I find myself casting those same disapproving looks when I go into the cinemas, malls or places where you see lots of teenagers. This summer, I was tempted to call a pretty girl in a hot stiletto to give her my share of lecture when I remembered the words of my mother.

I rather wait, smile and grin like an Octopus when her time will come.
But I still remain a shoeholic with a sense of saving!

Pardon me for any typographical errors or unusual acronyms, I usually fast type when I am overly excited, don't blame it on my hormones or sugar level,it is the Lords"s doing and it is undeniably beautiful in my sight.

I started 2010 with a molue load of high expectations, and without a thought to the fallen angel "lucifer" who comes to steal and destroy. Neither did I remember that life is full of thorns and speed breakers, I was just thinking positive.

Life has been so good to me no doubt, but not void of mid-life crisis and series of unplanned dramas .

The challenges has surfaced in various forms, sometimes I realize that I am a speed breaker to myself!
I stumble and refuse to dust myself up and try again for many reasons; fear of failure, disappiontment and mortification.

I am human after all, I sometimes allow those challenges to weigh me down. I get upset, ask a 1ot of "why"s" that will not get a reply and cry, yes I cry. The best part of the cry session is that I feel a lot better when I let out my emotions.

My muse is not about focusing on me, or my fears but rather I choose to use this medium to reach out to others.

I read somewhere that the law of constant movement is important to all creation,including man. A bird that attains a certain height and wishes to remain there can only do so if it continues to flap its wings.

This also applies to us, so we should always remember to flap our wings and stir ourselves to further heights if not, there will be a fall, a great fall like Humpty Dumpty!

So no matter the odds against you or the present circumstance, remember that there is no permanent condition.

Keep the faith, defy the odds, raise the stakes, take calculated risk(s) and above all STAY POSITIVE.

And back to myself,why is ADETOLA overly excited, I need to focus and embrace new oppurtunities.

God help me!

OF MOTHERS AND SONS

To say that I look forward to coming home is an understatement.
After a hectic day at work coupled with the traffic, I am always eager to get to the comfort of my house, and this Friday was no an exception.
Its not like I do not enjoy my work, the job is getting monotonous and quite predictable, hence my excitement at home coming.
My house is never short of activities, from my seven months old cute baby boy who is learning and exploring his world and new found skills to my six years old “big brother’ who is ever inquisitive, it is a guaranteed circus.
This fateful Friday I came in with the hope of catching a nice movie on cable with a cold can of Coke, how wrong was I.
I met my older son wearing my bra and pacifying his little brother while playing mummy with an empty bottle, the scene was so droll yet sweet. .
“what is going on here? I queried asking nobody in particular. My baby giggled with so much excitement when he heard my voice, he was waving his little hands at me suggesting that I should carry him.
‘Mummy, I was feeding *dazzle*, he was crying and *maa-ma* was in the bathroom, so I took care of him, aren’t you proud of me? He said excitedly. “Proud of you” I wondered silently, am I?
“Of course I am so proud of you; you have proved to be very resourceful, independent and caring”, I replied as I took his brother from him.
I was still playing catch up with him when I realized that my older son was pulling at my dress, “I said, what is the meaning of resourceful”.
I answered him hastily to avoid further interrogations, “mummy, am I really independent like Nigeria” he further asked.
You are more independent than “baby naija”, I muttered under my breath.
“Baby naija”, mummy why do you say naija is a baby, naija is old, naija is 50 now”
“Questions over dear, please can I have a glass of water”
I was relieved to see him run to get the water, at least it’s a guarantee that the questions will stop, but for how long I cannot say.
We continued our series of questions and answers till lights out, yours truly forgetting her tiredness and thirst for a cold Coke.
Kids…will always be kids, my kids, an antidote for boredom and lethargy.


*dazzle: nickname for my little baby
*maa-ma: nickname for their nanny