emmanuelonimisi

Inside Out 2 turns us Outside In

I recently got to watch Inside Out 2, the sequel to Pixar’s 2015 major ‘emotion’ picture (a tag line that the marketing team should get a raise for) which took the world by storm. I must say, this story moved me in ways beyond words. In this article I would be spoiling some details

Pixar: House of Feelings

Pixar has always excelled at making compelling stories out of the most unexpected characters, giving them arcs that are relatable to us in diverse ways. With each story and character arc, Pixar has succeeded in connecting with the hearts of viewers of all ages. With Inside Out, they took it up a notch. After giving toys feelings (Toy Story), giving vehicles feelings (Cars), giving rats feelings (Ratatouille), giving fishes feelings (Finding Nemo) and even giving monsters feelings (Monsters Inc.), Pixar actually gave feelings feelings! Inside Out is the story of a young girl names Riley Anderson, and of how her feelings played a role in the transitions of her growth through a life changing experience. With characters such as Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust and Anger residing within her mind, Inside Out took us through the rollercoaster of emotions she went through and taught a valid lesson for all: sadness is an important indicator that we need support, and it should not be shut down.

With Inside Out 2, Riley is becoming a teenager, and her feelings are about to get even weirder. Growing up to be a kind and exceptional young lady, her sense of self has been based on her core goodness, which is echoed in her words, “I am a good person.” But with puberty, new emotions develop that challenge her sense of self. Anxiety, Envy, Embarrassment and Ennui (with little cameos by Nostalgia) take up Riley’s headspace, as she tries to become like others she admires. The original five emotions (Joy and the gang) are literally bottled up and are set on an adventure to recover the Riley they know and love.

What got to Me

At the climax of the movie, Anxiety has made a mess of Riley’s life. At this stage Riley has lost her sense of self and her primary motivation is to get other people to like her. I could identify with this so much because, even beyond my teenage years, the desire to be affirmed and accepted has been a primary motivator for me and many of us for a long time. With Anxiety at her wits end, Riley realizes that, truly, she is not good enough. This pushes her into a panic attack.

When we realize that our attempts to align with the world’s perspectives and opinions will never truly succeed, if our goal has been to meet their standards, we would feel less than you ought to be. Many young people have found themselves here.

But this is where the emotions surprised me. Anxiety finally admits to Joy, “We don’t get to decide who Riley is.” And Joy realizes it too. All this time she had been trying to return Riley to her usual self by discarding any bad or painful memories, but now she allows Riley to learn from her mistakes those memories. Riley then gains something that is a valuable factor for everyone’s growth: self-awareness. Yes, she hasn’t been a good friend. Yes, she has messed up. Yes, she is not good enough. Yes, she wants to be at her best, but never measures up. But in that moment, Joy hugs her (it’s hard to describe this if you have not seen the movie), and the other emotions join in.

Awareness of our strengths and weaknesses primes us to be in the best position to receive the help we need and, best of all, to show grace to ourselves.

The makers of this movie did a really good job of illustrating the value of self-awareness in our growth, whether we be adolescents or adults.

My first key takeaway was that our emotions are only ‘indicators’ of how we feel. They should not be ‘directors’ of our actions, or determinants of our identities. Our feelings are not permanent. Know what is true and stick to it, no matter how your feelings go.

Also, awareness of our strengths and weaknesses primes us to be in the best position to receive the help we need and, best of all, to show grace to ourselves. The earlier we learn this, the better we would be. This is underlined at the end when Riley is asked if she made it into a team (something she had always desired), but while she wants to be on the team she is more open to the possibility of trying again if she fails. This time, she sees herself as more than her achievements or failures, and she can master them for her growth.

One of the biggest contradictions many believers face is reconciling our acclaimed righteousness with the failures and weaknesses we find in ourselves occasionally. Sometimes it feels hard to acknowledge them, and sometimes we may even feel they disqualify us before God and the people in our lives. But our weaknesses are reminders that we need the Savior, and He is always ready to help us.

Our worth is not in other’s perception of ourselves, but in our Creator’s. He sees us at our best and at our worst, and He loves us still.

And so also should we.

You are not your failures or your successes. You are you. It is the true you that can grow.

Thank you for reading. Have you ever experienced an event that made you more self aware? Please share with us. It might encourage someone.

My Questions in the Light of You

I’ve got so many Questions
many things I can’t deduce
Everyone thinks they’ve got the answers
And it makes me think, “What’s the use?
Must I believe everything they say,
Accepting what they say is true?
What if they’re wrong?
What do You think I should do?”

Maybe someday I’ll get the answers
to the questions that fill my mind
May not be now, or even tomorrow
Or after ten more years are left behind

Maybe I’ll get to ask You these questions
on the Day We finally meet
Maybe by then, my quest for understanding
will finally be complete.

Or maybe…

Maybe…

Maybe by then I would be overtaken
By your Awesomeness and Beauty
the Questions may just fade away
into mere inconsequentiality
Compared to You, my questions are nothing
just a chasing after the wind
‘Cause all I’ll need to know, You’ll tell me
So I can be all You made me to be.

You know what?
I think I’ll just start gazing at You right now.

(Originally written Jan 21, 2014)

Teach me, Lord Jesus

Some people are reading
their Bibles each day.
They’re learning how God works
And what He would say.
They’re growing and feeding
On Heavenly Food.
Lord, teach me to study
That I may think like You would.

Some people are praying
And seeking His face.
They’re gaining direction
And strengthening in Grace.
He’s sharpening and pruning them
Enlightening their gaze.
Lord, teach me to pray
that I may follow your ways.

Some people are serving
The Lord with their all.
They’re giving their best
‘Cause they’ve answered His call.
They’re spreading the Gospel
And doing what He pleases.
Lord, teach me to serve
As you want me to, Jesus

May I be Your sacrifice, given to You, living to please You in all that I do.
That I may be Your gift to all; to Gentile and Jew, ’cause You’re all that matters, Jesus. It’s true.

Amen.

Amen.

The Faces of Christmas is Here!

In 2017 I had an idea to create profiles of the characters in the Christmas story. It was meant to be a prompt to get me to combine two of my favorite subjects: Bible history and art.

And that was the birth of The Faces of the Christmas Story, a series I ran on this blog.

Years later, Householder Publishing reached out with a proposition: what if we created stories around these characters in the Christmas story? It would be an interesting take and the potential was too great to pass up.

So, of course, I said YES!

And that is the genesis of what has become my latest book, friends: The Faces of Christmas.

The Journey

From mid-2021 through 2022, I worked with Toluwanimi Babarinde, principal at Householder Publishing, in placing these characters in believable stories. There were periods when I was blank, I’ll be honest, and when I was scampering for ideas on what to write.

It was easier to write stories on characters the Bible did not go in-depth on, because that gave me some artistic license. But, believe it or not, it was Joseph and Mary’s stories that were the most challenging for me. How do I give readers a new experience in a story they are all-too-familiar with already?

They were the last two of the stories I got to write. I hope you like it when you read it.

Bound in hardcover and beautifully illustrated by Gideon Akor, the book is one I’m really proud of and that I think you’d love it too.

My Hopes

From the very beginning, this concept was birthed from an appreciation of the ordinary stories of the people that make up the Christmas story. It amazed me how God brought them into the wonderful story that He was telling. It mirrored, to me, what He can do in our seemingly ordinary lives too.

I hope that readers get to see that too. It is my hope that when you read this book, you come to appreciate much better what Christmas is really about, for you.

And Now it’s Out!

It’s been amazing, over the past few weeks, watching the book pop up in online stores across the world, some in languages I do not even understand yet, and it’s so exciting! I hope that everyone reading them gets to be blessed by them too. Jesus came for everyone!

For information on where to get The Faces of Christmas, check out the book page.

I’ll be sharing more about the whole story behind this book, with the setbacks and lessons I learnt along the way, real soon. Through it all, God has been with us.

And that’s the lesson of Christmas, the Gift of Immanuel.

The Story behind ‘Along the Way’

On September 21, I released a memoir called Along the Way. In many ways, it felt like it was where my life had been headed for a very long time.

I grew up reading books with deep adult subjects, and I especially loved those that had illustrations. I used to flip the pages to just see the next illustration, but gradually as I grew, I also began to read the content of the text. I loved how the drawings drew me in, and I looked forward to putting out books like that. Books that cover subjects that are relatable to both adults and children.

As my 30^th birthday approached, I wanted to put out something into the world to encourage someone out there who, just like me, may have been trying to make their way through the uncertainties and decisions of their 20s. I certainly don’t consider myself an arbiter of all knowledge, and I’m still learning, but there were a number of things I had learnt along the way (see what I did there?) that I figured could help others too.

One of the major things I am learning, and which formed the major framework for Along the Way, is the fact that the ordinary is not mundane. Because God made our times and seasons, He has treasures and glorious wonder deposited in every person and every moment. All of Creation is a testament to His wisdom and glory, but we would only see it if our hearts and mindsets are trained to see this way. It’s why Paul wrote about the ‘renewing of the mind’ that is necessary in knowing God better (Romans 12:2). Life is finite, but there is so much wonder in the moments we get to experience. I want to live like that, appreciating the little things and able to bring forth God’s wonders through them. To see no one as ordinary, but to value them the way He does.

That is the core concept of Along the Way, and what I wanted to put out into the world.

And do you know one of the most awesome parts? The content of this book was made up of articles I had written over the past decade, at various points in time. I gathered them together, revised and modified much of them, and eventually the book to shape. It was almost as if, in those moments without my realizing it, God had been prompting my heart with just what I’d need to put this book together long before I even knew there would be a book. That blows my mind in no small way.

It encourages me for the road ahead, that my best bet is to trust in His process and keep on following Him. I do not know the future, but He does. And one thing I hope to keep doing is to trust Him and take each step in faith and trust, as I follow Him along the way.

I pray the same for you too.

Along the Way is available in paperback at Householder Books (US only), as a digital download on Amazon and Selar, and to read on OkadaBooks and Bambooks.

The Faces of Christmas comes out this Christmas! I’ll be writing about that in a moment.

‘Along the Way’ is Coming!

Hi there! I’ve got a new book coming, and I’m really excited to share it with you.

Along the Way is a compilation of some creative pieces and lessons I’ve learnt in my walk with God over the years. I’ve learnt to see life as one big treasure hunt that God has placed before us, with new mercies every morning and treasures every day. With eyes open wide in wonder and hearts impressionable to His Word, there is so much He’ll show us along the way.

My dear friends at Householder Publishing are providing opportunities to pre-order the book in paperback form, so head on over to pre-order a copy. A book like this should definitely be in your library, I can assure you of that.

The digital copy/ebook is also available for pre-order over at Selar, so head on over to Selar to order a copy.

For more details, check out the book page right at this link.

Thank you so much!

Pablo

A story about one dog’s journey home.

Three young dogs were milling about at the rubbish dump one morning, but it was the dump that was the main attraction to the Labrador that was watching from afar.

They called him Bones, and he was the toughest canine in the neighborhood. Whenever there was a fight for territory, once he came on the scene, the fight was over. His howl was the loudest at night, and other dogs could only hope to match his domineering influence. He especially loved rubbing it in their faces. And so, with a smirk on his face, he hurried over to the three and climbed up the dump.

“Now, now,” he said whimsically, “Argue all you want, dawgs, but you know who the real king of this hill is.”

Garr, a cross between an Alsatian and a Terrier, stared up at him. “Hiya, Bones,” he said dryly.

“Now, y’all be nice to me,” Bones continued. “And I’d even let you grab a bite or two from this here dump. I can imagine it must be tantalizing to your eyes right about now, eh?” He licked his lips, but they did not seem amused in the slightest.

“Um… thanks Bones,” Ruff the pug said. “But if Nada here is right, we might not need to come to this dump ever again.”

Bones was taken aback. “Huh?”

Nada was a Doberman, and she was the youngest of the pack. She nodded with glee. “Yeah! There’s this human you’ve gotta meet. He’s really nice and I think he likes me.”

Bones arched a brow. “You’ve got a human? But … but we’re strays. It’s who we are.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nada said, her tail wagging faster as she spoke. “But this guy treats me like I’m a … friend. Anytime he sees me, he pats me on the head and pets me.”

“I’ve never been petted before,” Garr said with a pout.

“Me neither,” Ruff added.

“And he sets out food for me too,” Nada said. “Like I’m his ‘person’. One day he even gave me a bath!”

“A what?!”

“No way! What’s that like?”

Bones watched in disbelief as Nada shared more stories about this human that had caught her fancy. It sounded too good to be true, and Bones knew that human-attachment was a road to heartbreak.

“I’m suspicious,” he said as he approached them. “He your former owner or something?”

“Nope,” Nada said. “I was born on the streets, Bones. I’ve never had an owner before.”

“What do you think, Bones?” Ruff asked.

“I think this is a load of hogwash,” Bones said. “We can never trust the humans. They think we’re pests.”

“This guy doesn’t,” Nada said.

“So what you gonna do?” Bones said, staring her down as he stood in her face. “Take us all over to your human friend so we can be begging for scraps?”

But Nada was not intimidated. “He gives me more than scraps. I think he’s—“

“I mean, look around, dawgs,” he said. “See the assortment of grub we’ve got in this dump. Food from yesterday, some from last week, some from last month – a variety of all kinds just waiting for you to take. And the search, oh, searching through the other garbage and stuff is the real adventure. Getting to taste and spit out the stuff that don’t taste good to your liking, and trying out new stuff. What could be better than that?”

“But it’s not good for you,” Nada said. “Some of it is spoilt. Some of it can kill you.”

“Why?” Bones snapped. “Cause your human’s gon’ give you something better?”

“Actually, yes. And I think he can give us all something better.”

“What if he stops? What if one day he don’t like you no more?”

Bones felt more and more humiliated as Nada extolled the virtues of her friend.

“What’s your damage, Bones?” Garr asked. “Why are you so against this human?”

Bones shook his head. “Trusting humans is dangerous,” he said. “You don’t want to go that route. Once you’re emotionally-invested…” As he spoke, he realized his eyes were getting misted as memories flooded his mind. “No. It’s a can of worms. Just trust me on this. You can’t trust them two-leggers.”

Ruff placed a paw on the ground. “Well I wanna see what Nada be talking about.”

“Me too,” Garr intoned.

“Then come along with me!” Nada said. “He usually has food ready around this time.”

“You’ll come back here!” Bones called after them as they hurried away. “You’ll all come back here. Just you wait and see. Y’all gon’ be back here, with your tails between your legs, begging me to let you come to this dump! You can count on it!”

But as they ran off, their tails wagging in hope, Bones felt defeated. He had had his own experience with a human, and he had seen the slippery slope of trusting a human being. But after the conversation they had just had, the dump was no longer appealing to him. Curiosity got the better of Bones, and he hurried after them, if only to watch from afar.

Nada, Garr and Ruff crossed into the backyard of a quaint house on the edge of the street. Bones hid behind a tree and watched as Nada called.

“Hey!!!” she called. “It’s me, your friend, Nada!”

Bones had to stifle a chuckle. Nada probably forgot that the human would only hear her barking, and not actually hear her words.

But sure enough, a human opened the door. Bones had not seen that coming.

“Ah, Nada!” he came down to his haunches, petting her, her tail wagging like it had a sense of its own. “You came back!” He looked at the other dogs, who were already stepping backwards already. “And you brought friends too!”

He beckoned to them and they sauntered cautiously as he pet them on the head. Sure enough, those tails began to wag like Nada’s. Bones felt sick of it.

The Human held a hand up. “Wait for me, alright. I’ve got food ready.” He hurried into the house and returned with a bag of treats which he poured into bowls for them. “You must be hungry. I’ve got enough to go around.”

Bones had not tasted doggie treats in a very long time. The sight turned his stomach and tugged on his heart. But it was at that moment that he realized that this scene was all too familiar. It dawned on him even more when the human looked his way.

The Human’s eyes widened as he took in Bones from afar. There was a scar on across his left eye.

Oh no… It can’t be.

Bones’ mouth felt dry as he realized that he had known this Human, and the Human knew him. Shame and regret clouded his heart as he took a step back.

Nada looked up and noticed the Human staring, only to turn and see—

“Bones?!” she said.

Bones gasped. I’m not supposed to be here!

He scampered off, blinking away the tears from his eyes. He only stopped to catch a breath behind a wall. Nada’s Human was the same Human he had known all those years ago. He couldn’t believe it. The memory brought nothing but pain.

“Bones?” He turned to see Nada peeking from behind the wall. She came over to him. “Are you okay?”

He wiped a paw across his eyes. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Were you crying?”

“Me, cry?” he chuckled. “Don’t be silly. Go on, back to your friends.”

But Nada would not be so easily shrugged off. “You knew him, didn’t you?”

Bones shrugged. “Maybe. I-it doesn’t matter. Just forget about it.”

“Bones, it’s okay. I won’t think of you less.” She sat beside him. “You were once his pet, weren’t you?”

He wanted to deny it once more, but he just couldn’t. He nodded silently.

“What happened?”

There was no pretending with Nada. “You see those scars on his left eye? That…” He lowered his head. “That was me.”

“What?”

He took a deep breath. “It was a different life, a very long time ago. I was his friend too. We played and went everywhere together. He used to call me Pablo, if you can believe it.”

She chuckled. “Pablo,” she whispered, trying it out.

“But one day I saw this dump. I saw all this grub with many scents that I’d never tried before and I knew I just had to get a taste. But he didn’t let me. He kept pulling me away, saying, ‘No, no, don’t go there!’ Until one day I snapped at him and…”

He shut his eyes as he wiped his paw in the air, re-enacting the moment he struck his Human’s face.

“I was stunned, seeing him bleeding that day. He was shocked too, crying on the ground. I didn’t know what to do. I had broken our bond and his trust. I’d drawn his blood. I couldn’t go back again. I had to run away and make a life of my own, far away from him.”

They sat in silence for a moment, staring into the horizon.

“And you’ve been a stray ever since,” she said.

He nodded.

“It wasn’t him that messed up,” Bones said. “It was me. There’s no way he can forgive me for that. He’s Human. They don’t forget stuff. I can never forget that day, myself. It’s why I can’t allow myself to trust a Human again, because I could break that trust one day.”

Nada stared up at him in stunned silence. She didn’t know what to say to that, too.

But in that moment, the Human came from behind the wall. “Pablo?” he called.

Bones gristled, becoming defensive in that moment. He took a step backwards.

“Hey,” the Human said, stretching a hand towards him. “It’s me. Your friend.”

Bones bared his fangs, growling in warning. “Stay away from me,” he said. “I may bite you again!” Of course he knew the Human wouldn’t hear his words, but the growl would pass it across.

“Bones, what’re you doing?” Nada asked.

“Stay out of this,” Bones snarled.

The Human was undeterred. “All these years I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “Thank God you’re still alive. My, what has happened to you, Pablo?”

“Stay back!” Bones warned, barking. “I’m warning you.”

But the Human still approached him cautiously. “I’ve wanted to protect you from the dangers around,” he said. “I want you to be my friend again, Pablo. I want to feed you to good health and take care of you. I don’t want you to be harmed ever again.”

“I’m doing fine all by myself!” Bones snapped. “I don’t need you!”

But the Human would not get the message. He still came closer, reaching out with his arms. “It’s okay, Pablo. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.”

Bones kept trying to retreat, growling, but as the Human’s hand touched his head something changed. Sensations he had not felt in a very long time coursed through his body. His resistance withered away as healing flooded his heart.

The Human embraced Bones, and Bones sank into his embrace. All the shame, pain, fear, pride and regret he’d carried all these years were dissolved in the pool of love and acceptance that he plunged into in that moment. His tail began to sway on its own accord.

Is this what it feels like to be loved? Bones mused.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, licking the Human’s facial wound. “I’m so very sorry for all I did.”

“I forgive you,” the Human said, tears in his eyes as well. “I forgave you, Pablo.”

They remained there for a while, as they made up for years of distance and estrangement in that hug. Bones was a baby once again, in the arms of the Human.

Garr and Ruff came around to Nada, shocked at the scene before their eyes.

“I don’t believe it.” Garr said in shock.

“Is that our Bones?” Ruff intoned.

“I’ve never seen his tail wag before.”

“Never knew it even had the capacity to do that.”

“Alright, guys,” Nada said with a smirk. “Let him have his moment.”

The Human looked up at them with joy in his eyes. “Can you believe it? Pablo has returned!”

“Pablo?” Ruff asked.

Nada sighed. “It’s a long story.”

Bones turned to them. “Don’t you tell anyone about this or else—“

“Go tell your friends,” the Human said, oblivious to what he had just said. “Bring them over. We’re gonna have a dog party to celebrate. Pablo has come home.”

Bones sighed. He was going to have to get used to this.

He was loving every second of it. He didn’t know what the future held, but all he knew was that the Human – his Human – loved him and forgave him.

And that was enough for Pablo.

THE END

Likewise, I say to you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.
Jesus (Luke 15:10)

Did this bless you? What parts did you like? What’s on your mind? Kindly sound off in the comments.

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You can Laugh!

Dayo and Akin learn that a merry heart is good medicine, especially in trying times.

It was another one of those days.

Dayo Jegede was stuck at his friend’s house on a Friday evening, and there was no electric power to do anything. He had been staying with Akin ever since the academia at the university had gone on strike for over five months already. Like millions of Nigerian students, he had tried to invest his attention in online courses and eventually in remote freelance graphic design jobs. Yet, any progress he could have made was affected by the erratic power supply in their area. He was two days late on a flyer design he was meant to send to a client in Norway, his laptop battery was down, his phone battery was teetering on 1%, and Akin’s nonchalant singing in the other room was beginning to get irritating.

Dayo slammed his laptop shut and stomped over to Akin’s room. “Guy, this thing dey tire me,” he said. “I just dey tire.”

Akin smiled. “How e no go ‘Tyre’ you? Oya, come ‘Sidon’ for my side. Make we talk.”

Dayo hissed. “I dey yarn you correct thing, you dey use me crack joke. I swear, I suppose knock you for head.”

“Alright, alright. Sorry. You never eat since, na why you dey frustrated.”

“Abeg, leave that side. I need to get this thing. You get fuel for gen?”

Akin winced. “I suppose buy, but the price don go up. So I no—”

“But them still go sell, shei?” He turned his flashlight to the clock, confirming that the time was a few minutes to 9pm.

“Well … but e go cost o.”

Dayo clapped. “Oya, do fast. Make we go buy fuel. Please, I go add money on top.”

He was well aware that his account was deep in the red, but now he was desperate.

Akin winked. “What if they don close?”

Dayo really did not have the time for banter, so he clenched his fists to ease the pressure that was building up in his arms. “Akin … please…”

Akin did not need further convincing. Within minutes, they were already walking down their street to get to the filling station along the main road. From the houses around them, they could hear the racket of other residential generators, providing electric power for their domiciles. It dawned on him that it had been a long time since they had experienced a truly silent night in their neighborhood.

Another result of this problematic country, he mused, hissing under his breath.

“Have you noticed that the sky is brighter tonight,” Akin asked.

Dayo turned to him. “Hmm?”

“The sky? It’s supposed to be dark, but because of the full moon, it seems a lot brighter.”

Dayo never ceased to be amazed at how Akin always seemed to keep an upbeat disposition despite all they were going through. It bordered on annoying most times, so Akin never dwelt on it.

They met a long queue of cars at the station, and a couple of people with their kegs ready to purchase fuel. Dayo wanted to curse someone, to let off some of the pent-up anger that had been building up within him. It did not help that the other folks in line were discussing the state of insecurity in the country, and the seeming futility of the forthcoming elections.

“All of them are liars,” a pudgy man said. “They only want to fill their own pockets.”

“Abi o,” another added. “None of these politicians can even tell us their plan. The money they used to buy their form, where did they get it, sef?”

“It’s not all of them that have no plan o,” yet another added, and he proceeded to explain why his candidate was the best of all the presidential aspirants. That led to another person praising his own candidate, extolling his effectiveness in potentially changing things.

On and on, the conversation continued while Dayo just shut his eyes and tried to keep his breathing even. He could hear Akin humming somewhere behind him. Neither of them enjoyed engaging in political arguments, especially in these times. They all hoped for better days, but ‘the sufferings of these times’ were so not comparable to ‘the glory’ they hoped would follow. It felt very hard to even hope, sometimes.

It took them close to 30 minutes before they could buy fuel, and they were soon on their way home. Dayo was hungry now, but what was primary on his mind was completing the design job on time. Akin was still humming.

Dayo could not hold it in any longer. “This country is the weapon fashioned against me,” he said. “I hate it here. I just hate it here.”

Akin placed a hand on his shoulder. “Guy…”

“And don’t try to make it sound better,” Dayo snapped.

Akin nodded. “You’re right. It feels hopeless. Many things aren’t working. It can be annoying and frustrating, and so discouraging.” They walked on in silence for a moment. “But do you know what I do, Dayo?”

Dayo arched a brow. “How you dey do am, sef?”

Akin pursed his lips. “I try to keep my mind on what God has done and what God is doing. And I’m thankful…”

Dayo hissed. “Guy, I know that stuff. But in the real world—“

“Real? What’s real? If I complain and mope, what does that give me? Even if issues change or I leave the country, there would always be one problem or the other. But God never changes. He is more real than the problems around us.”

Dayo was not ready to engage on that topic. “You make it sound as if it’s easy.”

“Trust me, man, it’s not always easy. It’s why I sing or listen to songs that keep my heart in that place. ‘A broken spirit dries up the bones, but a merry heart is good medicine’.”

Dayo smirked. “I think you just twisted that verse?”

“Did I? Oh I think I did…”

“But, Akin, this thing hard, true true.”

“Shebi you’re a child of God? And the fruit of God’s Spirit in us is Joy. It doesn’t matter what happens around us, He can help us to be joyful. Joy is a gift. The joy of the Lord is your…”

They were already approaching their apartment, so Dayo ignored him. He hurried towards the generator to fill it with fuel.

“Your strength,” Akin finished. “Come on, man, you left me hanging there.”

“Let us get light first,” Dayo said. “We can continue Sunday School after that.”

Akin helped as they poured in the fuel from the keg into the generator. Dayo could not wait to get back to work. So even though when he pulled on the generator cord it did not come on, he knew that it was just a minor issue. He pulled on the cord again…

…

…and this time, it cut.

For a moment the friends stared in utter shock as what they had thought would be their hope of electricity for the evening was snuffed out before their very eyes. They would have to wait till morning before they could get an engineer to fix this. Dayo stared at the broken cord in his hands, with no plan or course of action coming to mind.

With nothing left to do, he turned to Akin, whose hands were on his head. In the silence that followed, the inevitability of it all dawned on them, and they burst into laughter.

For Dayo, it was a nervous laughter of exhaustion, as the realization that there was nothing more he could do about his problems. Yet the more he laughed, the harder it became to stop laughing. The laughter made him feel lighter, like there was nothing more he could do. He was out of control as he sank to his knees and pounded the ground with his fist, choking on hysterics.

“Why you dey beat the ground?” Akin said between guffaws. “Wetin the floor do you, na?”

Dayo managed to make out the words, “Why are we laughing? We dey mad?”

“Don’t you see, Dayo? God is with us! Everything don mess up, but we can still laugh! We still have Joy. Isn’t that something to be grateful for?”

Dayo did not feel the confidence Akin professed, but at that moment, he wished he did. God had given them reasons to smile and laugh and, even now when things seemed bleak, he could still laugh.

Electric power was not restored that night, and Dayo had to turn in the design the next day. However, even though nothing changed, Dayo’s burdened heart was a little lighter that evening.

And that, he realized, was something to be thankful for.

THE END

Hi there, dear reader. Many times we go through situations that impose the bleakness of the times on our consciousness. The news seems choked with bad news many times, and it many times looks as though things are just getting worse around us.

But God is still in control. He’s still got the whole world in His hands. His Spirit within you can keep you Joyful. Happiness is based on what ‘happens’, but Joy is irrespective of what happens. In His joy there is strength to keep on standing, strength to do what you need to do, and you are lightened to even hear and see the wisdom and direction He may be showing you out of the darkness.

I pray that you find reasons to laugh, my friend, and that you keep on laughing. Be strengthened.

Did this bless you?

Have you had a similar experience you would like to share?

Do you need someone to pray with you in what you’re going through?

Please share and let me know in the comments. You just might be a blessing to someone here. Trust me, we all need it.

The Step Down

For one president, the way up may be to step down.

The Mind Council Chamber sat at the lowest floor of the Presidential Villa, several stories below ground, inaccessible to all except the Federal Executive Council. We only held meetings there when very important decisions were to be made.

I was the first to be seated along with my Guest, as the Federal Commissioners walked in one by one. In their flowing regalia they all trooped in, each bearing one responsibility or the other. I smirked as I thought of the many arguments we had had over the past couple years, and how many times they had prevailed over my decisions with their many ideas birthed from their varied exposure and expertise. In many ways, I felt intimidated by them. There was an air of concern as they all took their seats, watching me eerily and casting glances at my Guest every occasionally.

When they were all seated, I stood.

“Distinguished ladies and gentlemen,” I began, “Thank you for honouring my invitation for this impromptu meeting. There’s precious little that would make me call you urgently from your domiciles at this time of the night.”

I could see the Commissioner of Sight nodding vigorously. He always appreciated his sleep and never appreciated disturbance. He had been known to doze off at meetings every now and then.

I cleared my throat. “The path to where we are as a nation has been one of ups and downs. We’ve made many decisions on policies regarding the nation, and our surrounding neighbors, in this very room. We have debated ideas, had our arguments, celebrated the victories of some of our decisions and also shared in the blame for some of the losses too.”

The Commissioner of Thought grunted. “That’s what you think,” she said. “I never lose.”

That elicited chuckles across the room.

I took a deep breath as I got to the core. “I take responsibility for every failure,” I said. “I have tried, God knows I’ve tried. I’ve tried out new paradigms and systems to satisfy our urges and needs, but while many of them persisted for a while, none has fully served their purpose. We have sought consultations from experts, held numerous training-and-upgrade seminars, and … yet, I can’t help but think that this country … this council is not serving its rightful purpose. I fear that we’re on a road to doom.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the Commissioner of Emotions interjected. “We always come with ideas from what we’ve seen and heard and felt, but you’re always the one second-guessing us.” There were murmurs in the affirmative all around. “Yes, because if anything, you’ve been our weakest link. You’re supposed to be President, but you never have the right ideas. With all due respect, you suck, Mr President!”

“I’m telling you!” the Commissioner of Speech added. “If it weren’t for our ideas, you could never make a good decision.”

“Yet some ideas are better than others,” the Commissioner of Action said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying. Actions speak better than words.”

And that is how the arguments began again, each trying to overshadow the other. But the Commissioner of Thought, ever the introspective one, had been watching me silently. “Why have you called us here, Mr President? And, if I may ask, who is your Friend?”

She was the first to acknowledge my Guest, even though I am sure most of them must have been wondering Who He was all along. I stared up at my colleagues. “We need new leadership. We need to realign to what the Creator made us for. I have … we have done a good job of messing things up. I think it’s time for a change. And that is why … I am stepping down as Commander-in-Chief of the Federal Republic of You.”

It was as though the air was sucked from the room in the silence that followed. They stared at me, waiting for the other foot to drop.

“While I remain as President, I am handing over authority over myself and this nation to this Man here,” I said, gesturing to my Guest. “His name is –“

“Jesus Christ?!” the Commissioner of Hearing interrupted. “I’ve heard a lot about this guy! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m sorry?”

“This Jesus turns people into weaklings!” the Commissioner continued. “I heard he turns people into mindless religious zombies. We don’t need this in our nation.”

“They say He stifles our free speech,” the Commissioner of Speech added, and he swore for good measure.

The arguments started rising once again, and I knew that getting them to calm down would be a herculean task. But Jesus placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let Me take it from here,” He said.

As He stood in the room, the arguments stilled as they sized up the new guest. I felt more confident with Him by my side.

“Before You were formed in your mother’s womb,” Jesus said. “I knew You. I made You for a purpose.”

“Excuse me,” the Commissioner of Thought interjected. “Are you claiming to have made this nation? How old are you? Who do you think you are?”

I did not see his face at the moment, but something about the way he stared at the Commissioner of Thought made her to recoil in silence.

“Sin and its corruption have made a mess of the order here,” he continued. “You, Federal Commissioners, have been compromised by the decadence of the age and are now imposing its pressures and suggestions on your president, at the expense of sound judgment. That something is lawful does not mean that it’s always right or hlpful

He turned to me. “Your president here has tried on his own to repair the damage, but he was never strong enough. He was never meant to debate with you about what is right and wrong. I am here to help him make the Federal Republic of You what God intended it to be. It would mean a renewal of this Mind Council, so that you all can know what you ought to do, and to do it too.”

For the first time in my life, I felt confident. There really was going to be hope for us. But my Commissioners did not share the same sentiments.

“So what?” the Commissioner of Thought said. “You’re going to be some kinda Dictator or something?”

Jesus folded his arms, standly regally. “I am a King, actually, and I am bringing my kingdom here. And in my kingdom it’s all about pleasing God, living at peace, and the joy that comes from God’s Spirit.”

“And are those supposed to mean something?”

He winked. “Trust me, you’re going to find out soon enough. I am going to help you think the right thoughts by teaching you in my Word.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

He gestured towards me. “Because your president has placed me in-charge here, and you are subject to the law he is subject to. Before, he found himself doing the things he did not want to do, and not doing things he knew he ought to do. You have known that conflict too, madam, haven’t you? But now I’m bringing him under a new law: the Law of the Spirit of Life in Me.”

She blinked, and when she spoke her words came out with less resistance. “It’s not been easy,” she said. “There’s so much information we get, and we have to act on it.”

“You never had to,” Jesus said. “But you weren’t strong enough to resist. I will help you. Madam, it may seem tough now but, believe me, everything I’m doing here is for your own good. There are boundless possibilities for the Commission of Thought that you’re not exploring because you’re limited to what you know. But I can help you get there.”

The Commissioner of Thought considered that for a moment, but at least she was silent now.

Jesus turned to the Commissioner of Speech. “And it would influence Speech too,” he said.

The Commissioner of Speech raised his hands. “Whoa, leave me out of this, mister. I’m fine the way I am.”

Jesus smirked. “Oh, that’s what you think. Your Speech will do so much more. You will bring healing to many, salvation to many more, encouragement to the broken and comfort to the mourning. I will train your tongue, to speak the right word in season to the weary. Can you imagine just what we can do when your words are life?”

He was genuinely amazed. “I never thought that could be possible. I thought you just wanted to, you know, keep me from saying whatever I want to. I may want to just catch cruise every once in a while, and I don’t need to be stuck up with a guilty conscience every single time.”

“But your words can get you in trouble,” Jesus said. “And can hurt others and yourself, much more than you know. I can help you refine your words.”

The Speech Commissioner grunted. “I uh … I guess I could do with a fixer-upper,” he said.

Jesus smiled as he turned to the Commissioners of Sight and Hearing.

“Oh no, no, no,” the Commissioner of Sight said. “You’re not coming here.”

“Yeah,” the Commissioner of Hearing said. “I don’t need your help.”

But Jesus wasn’t done. “You sure? Sight, some of the things you’re looking at are affecting Thought.”

The Commissioner of Thought nodded. “Exactly! The information we get comes from these guys.”

“Hey, you can decide what to think by yourself,” the Commissioner of Hearing retorted. “Don’t blame us for your lack of control.”

“But it’s true,” Jesus said. “Even for you, Hearing. The things you watch and listen to get into your thoughts one way or the other. You need to keep a watch over them.”

Sight folded his arms. “You just wanna suck the joy out of everything.”

Jesus chuckled. “All things are lawful for You, but not all things are expedient. All things are lawful for You, but you don’t have to become a slave to them*. If you absolutely can’t do without something, tell me, are you the master or the slave to it?”

They were clearly gearing up for a comeback, but they could not come up with anything in time. We all knew that we needed all the help we could get, and Jesus was the one to help us. It may not have felt nice, but it was worth it. It reminded me of the one time I heard that he had chased out some moneychangers from God’s Temple. This kinda felt like it too.

And one by one, Jesus kept on addressing each of the commissioners, analyzing their blueprints and the challenges they had faced, and explaining how He would make it new. I was so glad I brought Him onboard. I was learning as he taught us, gaining more confidence to guide each of these commissions with his wisdom and might. It would take a while to get into the new hanfg of things, but I knew I was now in good hands.

“It’s going to be a new day,” Jesus said. “The old is gone, the new has come.”

“Indeed,” I muttered under my breath, a smile on my face. “Amen.”

THE END

Pharisee

A devout 1st century Jew struggles with his own guilt and conscience, and how the contradictions in his heart affect his world.

Galilee. First century A.D.

“*Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu. Adonai Echad…”

Shimon sang to himself as he ran the smoothening blade across the plank on his workbench. It had become second nature to him to sing from scripture as he partook in his daily work, just like his father and grandfather before him used to do. What better investment, he thought, could he give to his time than to keep his heart on the Scriptures?

Hur, his young apprentice, sauntered over. “Still working on that log, eh Master?”

Shimon smiled, still drawing the plane. “It’s the details, my friend. You can never be too thorough in attending to the details.”

Hur smirked. “I was afraid you’d turn that into a sermon too.”

“Oh, I’ve barely even started,” he replied, winking. “We can’t be too thorough, especially with our hearts. Because it’s the hidden details, the darkest corners of our hearts, that *haShem searches out.”

Hur nodded, amused but used to Shimon’s knack for finding lessons in everything. “He sees all.”

Shimon chuckled, patting him on the back. “He sure does.”

Hur gestured towards the figurine he had been working on in the far corner of the workshop. “Speaking of details, come see what I’ve been working on.”

Shimon had for a long time observed that Hur’s skills were more suited towards woodcarving than simply furniture making, and he had encouraged him in exploring it. Shimon had cordoned off a section of the work-shed for this particular figurine, a special and very expensive commission from King Herod’s contractor.

Hur had just started work on it the previous day, but what used to be a log of wood was already taking shape. In the midst of the dust and fillings littering the floor, the profile of a wooden oak tree with lush foliage and roots spreading in every direction, was already apparent. Shimon had to admit, he initially thought this project was going to be a waste of time, converting a log from an oak tree into a figure of another oak tree. Nevertheless, if royalty was willing to pay for it, they might as well enjoy it. Besides, this was shaping up to be quite an excellent piece.

He folded his arms, “All this, you did today?”

Hur nodded. “It’s the curves that were the hardest bit. The leaves and branches, I’ll figure out later, but I should definitely get this done within the week. I’ll need to get some more polish too.”

Shimon nodded, contemplating the figure before him.

“So what do you think?”

Shimon could tell that he was excited about this work, but he could not commit himself to expressing just how amazing it really was. He had his reservations still, but he also did not want to crush the young man’s spirit.

“It’s shaping up beautifully!” his wife exclaimed from behind them.

They both turned to see Rivka standing behind them, a large bowl of figs in her hands. “And you should be proud about it, even if my husband is too afraid to say it.”

“Who said I was jealous?” Shimon retorted.

“Then just tell him you like it!”

“Of course I like it!”

“And why are you yelling?”

“I’m yelling because you’re making me yell! Of course, we both know Hur is talented and this … this is coming out very nicely. Even a blind man could tell. There, I’ve said it. Hur, your figure is good. You’re great. Everything is great! Happy now, Rivka?”

Now both Hur and Rivka were laughing.

Shimon threw his hands in the air dismissively, walking away. “Oi!” He paused. “Word of advice, young man; don’t get a wife with a brain. Thank me later.”

“Oh really?” Rivka said. “A woman without a brain would make for very boring company.”

“Is that what you think a man is looking for?”

She sauntered closer to him. “I don’t know, what do you think? Did you find what you were looking for?”

Shimon smiled. “And so much more, my lily.”

And they went in for the kiss, Hur cackling in the background. “You are both the weirdest old people I know.”

For all his blather, Shimon knew Rivka was one of the Lord’s greatest gifts to him.

Rivka turned to Hur. “And don’t you have somewhere else you need to be, young man?”

Shimon blinked. “You want to … here?! Now?!”

Rivka winced. “He wanted to get some wood polish? Remember?”

“Oh…”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, dearest!” She swatted at him with a rag. “Some Pharisee you are.”

Hur couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. “I’ll just be going.” His smile remained emblazoned on his face as he put on his cloak.

“And Hur,” Shimon called. “Like Bezalel of old, haShem has truly blessed you with talent, my friend.”

Hur’s eyes twinkled. “Thank you, master.”

“Take a break,” he said. “Be back within the hour.”

Hur nodded as he ducked out.

“You treat him like the son you wish you had,” Rivka whispered. Now they were alone and she could talk freely.

Shimon placed a hand around her shoulders. “Rivka…”

“You can’t pretend you don’t think about it sometimes.”

He caressed her shoulder. “In His time. All things in His time, my dear.” He gestured towards the oak figure before them. “His hands craft our days, moment by moment. He has His purpose in our times and seasons, carving out our destinies. Ours is to remain faithful to His every law.”

She chuckled. “Funny you should use Hur’s figure when you’re clearly ashamed of it.”

He stiffened at that. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Of course, hence why you stashed it away in the corner, out of sight from customers.”

“It’s not so simple, and you know it. I just don’t want to cause controversy by putting it out there.”

“And yet you let him explore his creative fantasies in here.”

Shimon had taken Hur under his wing ever since Hanan, Hur’s father and Shimon business-partner, had passed on. “The Lord gave Hur a gift. ‘Blessed be the Lord who gives you the power to make wealth.’ I’m helping him to harness it, guiding him from the baser inclinations and allure of working with ‘graven images.’”

Rivka set the bowl of figs down. “They’re wood carvings, dear, not ‘graven images’. And we’re hardly bowing down to worship them. Even the Tabernacle of old had wood carvings. We’re not breaking any laws.”

He sauntered away, examining the figure. “We may be the more liberal of the sects, but we Pharisees still preserve the sanctity of Torah with good reason.”

“By adding to it. Even you know that it’s getting excessive.”

He took a deep breath. “It’ll have to suffice. It has preserved our culture for generations, and it will for generations to come. One little step out of line and we’re courting with sacrilege. Before you know it, it’s ‘Hello, Sodom and Gomorrah.’”

“And yet,” Rivka motioned toward the figure. “Here we are. Carving in secret.”

Shimon shook his head. “It’s different. What good is preserving appearances if I leave my friend’s boy to potentially worse inclinations? I couldn’t live with myself, dearest. I will appease my conscience and do what’s right, and I’ll hope that God is pleased with my heart. Otherwise I might as well be a palace on the outside, but my heart could just be a dark sepulcher on the inside.”

Rivka offered him a fig. “When you get this sincere about heart matters, you remind me of someo…” She let it trail off, probably realizing she should have thought better of it.

He took the bait. “Who?”

She shrugged. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

But he was quick to spot the nuances when his wife wanted to say something. “Don’t tell me it’s the Nazarene.”

This Jesus from Nazareth was gradually becoming a thorn in the flesh of the Pharisees. The fantastical tales around him included stories of miracles and even the raising of the dead, but what was even more dangerous was his teaching. Some claimed he was Messiah or a prophet. He had attracted a following among the people thus far, and Shimon was careful about what liberties he could be taking in his doctrine which, as many said, was very simplistic.

Rivka groaned. “You can’t throw the baby with the bathwater.”

“You can’t be listening to the Nazarene, Rivka!”

“Why? What has he said or done that is wrong?”

“You should be very wary of who you listen to, Rivka. And of the company you keep.”

“How did this even become about Talia?”

“I didn’t bring her up, you justdid! I’ll bet she’s the one that made you go listen to the Nazarene. I hear all kinds of people like listening to him too. That man should be wary of the company he keeps if he really wants us to accept him.”

“She’s been my friend from childhood, Shimon. She was at our wedding—”

“She’s a harlot! What would people think if they saw you with her?”

Rivka folded her arms, consternation on her face. “Really, Shimon? What would people think? Is that how you want to live your life? No wonder your mind is plagued with so many contradictions.”

Shimon did not have a good comeback for that. “You … I … it doesn’t matter. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She shook her head. “I know you want to do what’s right. But your fear is clouding your judgment. That’s not good ground to build your life upon.”

“Was that another line from Jesus?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. What’s your problem with him?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve been told—“

“Listen to yourself, my dear. ‘You’ve been told?’ What if they were wrong?”

“The people that listen to him. Publicans, outcasts –“

“And you really think he cares what others think?”

“They say people think he may be Messiah. Do you realize just what damage a cult like that can do? What the Romans would do?”

She offered him another fig. “Then talk with him.”

“There is no way I’m going out into the mountains to listen to some vagabond—“

“You don’t have to go out there. Invite him over.”

He looked up at her. “I’m sorry?”

“Offer him the hand of fellowship. Invite him over for dinner, and discuss with him.”

He chuckled. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why is that? What are you afraid of?”

“Bah!” He turned away dismissively. “I don’t need this.”

“You’re a seeker of truth, my husband. You always have been. You’ve got a sincere heart so much so that you don’t want to displease God even in the minutiae of Torah. I know God sees that. But what if God was bringing an answer to all your questions, and your fear and pride kept you from listening?”

He stared up at Hur’s tree. Mankind had needed to make a decision at a tree once before. Even back then, it had been a man and a woman. It had cost them their place before God and had caused the dilemma they would forever live by; knowing what’s good but always having the predilection for evil. This was Shimon’s dilemma, every single day. It was why he did everything he could to stay away from sin.

If there was one question he would ask of God it would be if this was ever going to get easier. Would they always have to sort this out by their own meager ability? Was God ever going to give them the new spirit He promised to Ezekiel?

“Shimon?”

He turned to her, pulled out of his reverie.

“Get out of your head, my dear. Besides, I hear he used to be a carpenter in Nazareth. You would have so much in common. So much to discuss. Who knows, he might even become a new friend. With Nicodemus now in Judea, Lord knows you need new friends.”

“Like this family needs another scandalous friendship,” he muttered, shooting her a knowing gaze.

Now Rivka looked genuinely shocked, bordering on disgust. “You’re just … hopeless!” She snatched up her bowl of the remaining figs and stormed out.

“Rivka! My sweet lily, wait!”

But she was already gone. He exhaled.

Why am I so good at messing things up?

He knew he really needed help. He needed to settle this. Even if it would mean biting the bullet, he needed to. Dear God, did that mean inviting the Nazarene preacher over?

God, you see my heart.

He would do it. He would do anything to keep her happy. He hoped God would be pleased.

In times like these, he turned to the things he did know how to do well. He returned to his workbench and to the log he had been smoothening. Left to his soliloquy, all he could do was sing just under his breath, hoping to settle back into a sense of normalcy.

Sh’ma Yisrael…

———-

This is a fictional prequel to a story in the Bible. You can read Shimon’s story in Luke 7:36-50, when he hosted Jesus for dinner and, to his horror, Rivka’s friend popped in.

I wrote this story because, the more I read and studied about Pharisees, the less I saw them as the maniacal caricatures I had assumed they were. They were real people with jobs, families, emotions and desires. They were a religious sect, one of many, that had been instrumental in the preservation of Jewish culture during the years of exile. By the time of Jesus, much of Jewish religious scholarship was the staple of Pharisees. Behind all of their many laws was a true love for God and the scriptures, and a desire to please God and stay away from the very shadow of evil.

I saw their nosy approach to ensuring others keep the Law as an extension of their very personal struggles to know and keep God’s law. I’ve learnt that, many-a-time, judgmental people are processing their own guilt and projecting it on others. When judgmental people are in groups, the righteousness of their cause can overshadow every attempt for reason and truth to invade. It’s the classic case of ‘can’t see the forest for all of the trees.’ I know because I have been there many times.

The sad part of their story is that while God had brought the very answer to their questions before their very eyes, their hearts were too clouded by fear and their familiarity with how things ‘ought to be’ to realize what God was doing. Like them, all of humanity was stuck in that struggle of knowing and wanting to do what is good but always being stuck doing what is wrong, trying our best to do what is right. However, God brought a new and living way through Jesus for us all to be able to please God. It would be God living and active through us, helping us to desire and do His will. Compared to the struggle, this is truly a time of refreshing (Acts 3:19). Jesus brought this new life for us all, including Shimon and his fellow Pharisees.

Wherever you and I are in our journey, may we not miss the call and answers the Lord has brought before us. May the eyes of our heart be ever open to Jesus, and may our hearts be never hardened, always ready to receive the life and help that Christ has for us.

Invite Him to lunch in the house of your house.

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and eat with you. And you will eat with me. (Revelation 3:20. Easy-to-Read Version)

Amen.

NOTES

* Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu. Adonai Echad: This literally means, “Hear O Israel. The LORD is our God. The LORD is One. It’s the first line of the Sh’ma, a statement of faith for the Israelites that’s usually sung in liturgical ceremonies. It can be found in Deuteronomy 6:4.

* HaShem: This literally means, “The Name.” It’s the term used by Jews in conversation in referring to God, to hallow His Name and probably to avoid blasphemy in mispronouncing it or saying it in vain. In liturgical services, the word ‘Adonai’ (My Lord) was used instead.