The Epistles

Writer

Sam-Kingsley Ashong Jnr.

“Pentecost Junction”—one of the first indicators that I’m almost home. Here, I always feel a sense of calm and anticipation. Recently, I helped an old university friend and roommate prepare for his graduation ceremony. It was a heartwarming experience; as we got to catch up, have wholesome conversations, and reminisce about the “good old days.” Being in the heart of the city also gave me an opportunity to tick off a few errands on my to-do list.

As day turned to evening, we parted ways. The weather had taken a dramatic turn, and what started as very slight rainfall quickly became a rainstorm. Midway through my journey home, I made a stop to get into another vehicle. Even though this took less than twenty seconds, by the time I was seated, I was drenched. I finally made it to Pentecost Junction, where I usually have three options: take a taxi, hop on an okada (motorcycle), or board a trotro (public mini bus).

Even though I love the rain, it has a funny way of making life difficult. At this point, it was drizzling, which made waiting in a queue for a taxi unpleasant. After a while, I decided to take a trotro instead since the queue there seemed to be moving faster. Maybe it was my impatience because now, the trotro queue seemed to be delaying. I decided to call the okada riders.

For the next 10 minutes or so, I felt invisible. Every okada rider seemed uninterested in picking me. They either didn’t see me or had already been called by someone else. With my increasing frustration, I asked God for help and stayed close to the parking area for the okada riders. I was still invisible to them. In an attempt to walk back to the trotro queue, I decided midway to just walk. Walk towards home until I find any vehicle, so I walked and walked. I would see a motorcycle and stop to call them, once again, they seemed not to hear or see me. The ones that did were not interested in taking me home, it was as though I had on Harry Potter’s cloak of invisibility.

After a while, I noticed a young man walking ahead of me. He seemed to be walking towards my
destination. Now mind you, the distance from Pentecost Junction to my house is 4.9km. In hindsight, the decision to walk was very silly, but my pride wouldn’t make me go back. So I decided to follow this young man. Because it had rained, the roads were very muddy. On a normal day, these roads are deplorable, so coupled with the rain, the situation was made much worse. I was getting tired, but in following this young man, I realized I wasn’t thinking too much about my problem anymore. I was just focused on keeping pace with him and following his steps. Due to my followership, there were many muddy situations I avoided.

As the reality of walking all the way home began to hit me, I realized the Lord had answered my prayer in His own way, of course, as He always does. He sent me someone to guide me home. As I lingered over this thought, Psalm 23 began to play in my head, making me more convinced that this was the Lord’s answer to my prayer. This guy in front of me was indeed my shepherd, and I “did not want” for direction. As he navigated through the muddy road, he made my walk so much easier. I began calling him my guardian angel in my head and started contemplating how to tell him the impact he had on my journey when we eventually parted ways.

In many ways, our relationship with God is like that. He makes a way because He literally walks it, and in our obedience and following, the way becomes evident to us. He does the hard work of figuring it out so we don’t have to. At this point in the journey, I was very calm and was even enjoying the breeze and light rain. It was a beautiful evening, but my worries prevented me from noticing it.

In another way as well, there is something we can learn about leadership from this experience. The
gentleman in front of me was super focused and didn’t look back once. He didn’t have to, because he had no idea I was behind him. He was leading himself, walking his own journey. In my opinion, there’s nothing more inspiring than seeing someone lead themselves confidently in their own journey. How can one lead others when they cannot lead themselves? How many people have given up on a pursuit because someone ahead of them gave up too? We never know who is being inspired by our journey, so giving up is a truly selfish thing to do when we think about it. What would the state of the world be if Christ gave up? Pause. Think about it. What would the state of the world be if Christ gave up? Even though Christ is our ultimate example, there are several others in the faith by whose perseverance our lives are what they are today. And then there’s God, the Master Orchestrator, using both the successes and failures of these men for His divine purpose.

Back to the story. After walking for what seemed like forever, the man in front of me seemed to be headed in a different direction. I was maybe 10 minutes away from home at this point, and so I wasn’t so sad about it. Right before he could disappear, I called him. It took maybe three tries to get his attention. He had Air Pods on, so I can’t blame him. There’s also the possibility that he thought I was going to ask him for money, because I’m very sure he turned ever so slightly to look at me and keep walking. Eventually, he stops, and I’m able to tell him how he has inspired me. As I said thank you and initiated a fist bump, he came at ease and let out a very beautiful smile (no Diddy). I could tell he did not see my comment coming and was genuinely happy with what I told him. As men do, we parted ways without taking names; “Boss” and “bro” sufficed.

There’s another lesson to learn here. Kind words and genuine appreciation can break down walls.
Leaders oftentimes may not know the impact they have in our lives until we tell them. This isn’t restricted to leaders. As people, we can do a better job of lifting one another with our words. Kind words are like honey—sweet to the soul and healthy for the body. Pause. Think about that.

Here I am now, alone to finish my journey. With no one to lead me, I found myself stressing. Figuring out my steps so I don’t slip, anxious to get home and rest. With no one to guide me, I stepped right into a pool of mud. For a moment, I really panicked because I thought I was going to slowly sink inside. My shoes were drenched in mud, with some of it finding its way into the sneakers. I couldn’t help but think that’s how our lives are without God’s direction; muddy sneakers, really muddy sneakers. The rest of my journey sucked, but I eventually made it home. 4.9 kilometers later, I was grateful for how God chose to answer my prayer. And even though He has a very interesting sense of humor, I still felt sorry for my muddy sneakers, my really muddy sneakers.