On Sunday, August 2, 2020, I got the news of the demise of a childhood friend. I was shattered. On Tuesday, I attended her funeral. As we stood by her graveside, I listened to the minister who spoke about how few our days here on earth are.
As I left the funeral, I got another call about a father figure who passed on too and would be buried same day. I ended up attending two funerals same day—one in the morning and the other in the evening.
I’ve suffered the loss of a few friends. In 2019, I attended the funeral of a good friend whom heaven took in a manner we can’t quarrel with. I recall it was all so unreal as I stood by his grave side when he was lowered.
I had a lot of questions. When I got the news of his death, I had to break it slowly to my wife because she was so fond of him. During his funeral, I sat behind a group of his students who wept. Oh, how they loved him! But for me, the reality of my mortality became very real.
While I took a social media break sometime in 2019, I got a call one evening. My dear friend who introduced me to his uncle and gave me free accommodation for a whole year during my NYSC at Port Harcourt was gone. I’d not felt despondent like that in a long while.
You don’t have forever to live your dreams. Live today like everything will end tomorrow. Share on XI called his mobile line and it rang unanswered. I wanted him to pick up and tell me it was a hoax. Just a few months before, I had passed through his location and he took me inside his home where he shared personal things with me. I never knew it was a valedictory.
A few days later, on the morning of the 2019 presidential election, another piece of sad news hit me. A good friend who still called some days before to ask where she could get a particular book in Lagos, was gone. I still remember that last call on a Sunday as I drove home from church.
I still have the WhatsApp message she sent to me on January 1 that year when she got my book. Shock. Disbelief.
When the sad news of the demise of The People’s General, Prof. Pius Adesanmi, hit the air waves in March 2019, I had two friends who called me and wept like babies. Till date, many have not recovered from that shock.
A week after that unfortunate event, news broke about the demise of a General of the Church, Pastor Obed Uzor of Glory Tabernacle. When I read it online, I called out to my wife who was already in the room and told her Pastor Obed had gone home.
My wife came downstairs and sat beside me—gutted. Her early years were spent in GT as Glory Tabernacle is fondly called.
One of the stories I share was how when we were courting and we passed in front of GT one day, my wife (then fiancee) pointed at the place and told me how she carried blocks on her head while the church was being built.
She said then, and I still recall, “God, I carried blocks on my head for you. You will build a house for me.” She was formed through the vision of that great man, Pastor Obed.
On August 7, 2020, just three days before I wrote this piece, another General of the faith, Pastor Gomba Oyor, transited. Consider the people you know who have passed on this year alone.
Life is not measured by its length but by its depth. Make every day count. Share on XLife is truly short. No matter how long we live, life is short.
James 4:14 says, “For what is your life? It is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away.” Time is short. All you have is a little time. Death should put life in the right perspective.
The reality of your mortality should be your greatest motivation. Nothing motivates like death. Life is the motive but death is the motivation. Get on with your assignment NOW. Live your dreams. Cut off every baggage.
You don’t have eternity to live your dreams and you can’t get out of life alive. Pack a full punch into life. Live today like everything will end tomorrow. It is definitely not about how long you live but how well.