ARE YOU A PASTORS CHILD?

 

ARE YOU A PASTORS CHILD?

Written By Isaiah Ilo Jnr.

  Yes, I am!! 

I pushed up my pants to the waist, dabbled my belt around like an ivory of necklace, clanked in the epicentre of my gonads, like a warrior sheathing his vigilance. I wasn’t up for a real battle, facing battalions of fine soldiers, (I would prefer the Roman warlords), but I had one. My dad was a figure of a fine soldier, and at that moment he led me to the arena of Scandinavia Vikings.

    He wailed, sending nipples of wave like tornado into my ears. ``Go to church now!!" He cried out with frustration, and love. This wasn’t the first time he enlarged his tone to send me off to church. I felt pushed to the wall this time, then I did what a teenage filial would do, by saying ``Do I have to go to church early?". ``Yes you have to, one day you would be a pastor, and pastors go early to church!!" Came the word's of retaliation. 

`` Then I don`t want to be a pastor, I won’t be one!!" I cried out. My repudiation was strong, and he sensed my refusal as an acknowledgment of what part I wish to trod on. 

I have heard, seen, experienced the reality that a pastor’s child seldom acquires the gene of a parishioner. We grow up in a family that drives us to a space of God`s world, but we elope from that custody, taking our spaceship of exuberance, scaling to heights of self independent inclined ideology that is a rampant philosophy in our generation. The prodigal isn’t an example of such preface. We have exemplified ourselves as a frame that spells; ``let me be alone mum, dad". I once adopted that illusion, and my heart race faster knowing that majority now do.

    Most of you all fame yourself as being descendants of an obscene character derived from Actors, Musicians, scientific geek`s, and  philosophers standing on the platform that Aristotle once stood. But our parents who derived an anecdote of consummating a union with God, reproduced us in that truce, but we now back out from that oath of loyalty sworn still the very end.

   It shouldn’t be so, come to your senses, clean the cobwebs that clouds your sanity, feed your dignity with the word, and contend for the faith Christ wrought. Don`t let this world rip you of the strata`s of gospel truth laid by your parent`s with tears. Trust me when I tell you, they do cry for us. Hiding the shame they feel they caused, consolidating their fear before God. I won`t stand for that, and we shouldn’t mould our future with our eyes focused on this world. 

Indeed, I am now persuaded. My dad was a fine soldier, a commander, and I am now determined to be his comrade. A warlord for the war ahead. I hope we all would salute, and stand at attention for them. Indeed, Christ was a pastor, and if we call ourselves his children, then I say we are pastor’s children living to the expectation of our coming King. 

Are you a pastor’s child?

Yes, I am!!                                                                                 Isaiah Ilo Jnr.