Fear and compassion are gradually becoming a lost art, eroding, distinct, and like the fictional extinction of dinosaurs, disappearing, being replaced with self and haste. We ought to pause and reflect, x-raying our actions and asking ourselves: Where did my fear go? How did I get here? Why wasn’t my heart troubled? Why is there no deep heaviness in my soul when I went against the laws set by God.
But instead we smile, we brush it off and tell ourselves,
“Am I not just a man after all?”
“Abeg, make everybody go sit down, we never dey perfect.”
Our heart is not grave like David’s, fearful enough to weep at the great iniquity done against the Creator, the One who owns life. We chart our course without remorse, without batting an eyelid. We never think of why we are here.
Fear is many things to many people. To me it is to be afraid, to respect, to hold sacred and even fear can be to love in some instances. Fear is that which honours authority.
I have seen fear when nature was revealed: a deep heaviness in my chest, holding me in a chokehold. Fear can be good or bad. Fear can come in the form of holding on to dear life, not letting things go. Fear can be for the unknown.
I can’t totally unravel what fear is because I don't know it. But I know there’s good fear, a reverence, and by my upbringing it was instilled in me. My change of location is gradually tampering with it, and with all fear in me, I pray that my fear will not go away.
Compassion
A dying phenomenon. Compassion is eroding; hearts are more wicked, hearts are more selfish. It’s Me, Myself and I.
Just me, only me, all about me. It doesn’t matter what I do to get whatever. No compassion towards the younger generation, no compassion for the lost, every man to his own tent.
Are hearts grieving to pray? To cry to the Lord? Are we compassionate enough to stand in the gap like our patriarchs of faith even if unseen? Sighs. Not forgetting the compassion which Jesus had for us enough to die for us, it is supposed to be worked in us too.
Haste has ruined compassion. Accidents on the streets now seem like a hindrance to where we are going: hissing and scoffing, shouting, “What rubbish is this?” we say with zero remorse. And all that fills one’s mind is how to get to work on time. No single prayer is said for the victims.
A beggar approaches you and the default is to say, “I don’t have,” without looking, without thinking twice.
We are gradually forgetting the things that matter, and I pray God teaches us fear and compassion, tender hearts and hearts quick to dance to God’s rhythm.
Music recommendation🌚
Things that matter- Josiah Queen
Ps:After several months, a draft has been published again. I hope to see you soon and If you are new here, welcome.
Till my next letter.
Love you!
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