What killed my Dad

What killed my Dad I hope doesn't hunt us too. No, not the obsolete word "killed" . I mean the death of living behind a closed door of poverty.

Source

We grew up in an apartment holding one room with two windows open in the heat, burnished to silver gray by the winds and fogs of the minor sea. This describes a house owe by a wealthy man, not really wealthy but so in the view of the kind of people we grew up among. It was raised on a wooden box, two beds shoved against opposite walls with a chair, cupboard and a table. A family of 7 with just a chair and a table, only those with authority could sit. Me being the last born dare not sit on the chair, the floor was my comforter. Then a few baskets, one with tin pails, the fireplace was equipped with an iron truss and a pot.the house was long and narrow, perhaps only twelve feet wide at the front. The stair led down into a tail.ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path. It was a house that just didn't know where to stop ,not a remarkable house by any means ,it was about thirty years old. this tells a brief knowledge to my parental home.

To the owner whom fortunately, or maybe unfortunately was my dad. Just like any other, he had inspired, dreamt,calculated and probably told people he was going to be rich. He maybe would have but something, more deadly than poisoning killed him. Not the literal killed but a constrain to why he isn't the man he wished he was.

My dad is a pastor, who practiced faith by doing nothing. He believed God was sovereign to make him Rich as long as He wants him to be. This was his number one killer. We retreated ourselves in prayers more than enough time for work.

"All through this week, we shall engage in prayer and fasting" my dad we say, and this continued for a long time.

Dreams were of high esteem to him. He cared less what prompt his dreams. He only believed dreams were messages from God and so need be regarded. This was his number two killer. We(the children) hated the fact that he relied strongly on dreams but who dare talks to him about that except his beloved wife who also had same trust for dreams. Am not wholly against dreams but I believe in works and soberness. Dreams relating riches was like a cacophonous music to him , to me it was like a chiranery but he preferred seeing it his own way.

The Bible passage "Don't worry about tomorrow" might have been his favourite verse because he spend without planning neither saving for tomorrow. This was his number three killer. Money must have beguile him that he became bushel to it. There was no counterpoise between money and saving in his system. So money became a fugitive to where he was. To every advice he had a defense, hitherto we don't bid him with advice.

The last of his killer almost got hold on me. To some extent I think I have been espouse to it. "Trying to prove to people" . As simple as the words sound, it carried greater implications. This was his number four killer. He could go to every length to prove to people who and what he is not leaving himself to bear it consequences. How terrible that the principles of his life are his enemies yet knowing not.

The world revolves around laws and principles so does success and whatever it maybe. But he had refused to be extrovertive . It's strange that other testifies on how gracious and miraculously his words or prophecy over their lives has been true but the opposite is in his life. being spiritually sober is good but keeping a balance is better.

Nothing good happens without God involved-God does not make it happen without a human effort involved-human efforts comes from not fainting despite the obstacles

this is where the balance comes in.