Turning Point

By Rokobua Naiyaqa

SHE was one of those people who didn’t believe in God. To her, going to church was a waste of time and people who believed in God were nothing but first-class hypocrites.

How could you believe in something that you couldn’t see? All these things about the birth of Christ, his mighty works of healing the sick, his crucifixion were a lot of fairy tales to her. And the Bible was a big book which put all these fairy tales in some readable order.

All the same she loved going to lis ten to these fairy tales being retold so she made a special effort to attend sermons by evangelists who fre quently came to her college. She and her friends, who were mostly boys, loved fooling around with these people.

Evangelists tried to convince the students that there was very little time left and that Christ would re turn soon and this was the time to repent, to take Christ as their saviour.

If not, it would be too late and their chances of being saved would be gone. She was used to this kind of trick and she had heard the same thing year after year since she was old enough to understand what the preachers talked about. And here they were still saying the same thing for how many more years before their Christ really came down to meet her. These people were nothing but dreamers, she thought.

That evening when coming to the campus dining hall for dinner she saw an advertisement on one of the

walls saying that a group of evan gelists would be coming that evening.

This particular group always at tracted a lot of attention amongst the students as their religion included music played by a hired band and even though students didn’t feel like listening to the sermons, the music played had an attraction. Most of it was like jazz music, the students’ favourites.

She thought amusingly to herself.

Tonight would be another fun night for her and her friends. But she would have to look for them fast.

Time was flying and if she didn’t find them she would have to sit alone and wouldn’t that be boring; she thought she wouldn’t enjoy it of course.

After dinner, she found she had very little time left so she dashed down to the campus hall and got herself a seat. A lot of people were there already and the seats were get ting filled up rapidly. She was forced to sit in the midst of students she didn’t even know but she couldn’t help that. At least she had a seat, she thought. She looked around and. saw all her friends sitting together in the front but there were no spare seats there. She really missed sitting with them. Then again she thought what a good experience it would be to sit away from them for once.

THE evangelists soon came in.

They set up their instruments and started tuning their guitars. The organist fiddled around, trying to get

used to his keys while the drummer tapped slowly and rhythmically on his drums, maybe just to pass away his time.

She observed them closely. There were about nine of them, all men, but about the same age as her boy friends. All looked young, maybe in their early twenties. The way they were dressed impressed her. Mute coloured, long-sleeved shirts, neck ties, dark coats. They all looked so lively, happy, neat and contented, so different from her friends who didn’t even bother to look tidy or dress up. The evangelists really cap tured her attention from the start.

At 8 o’clock the programme began with the band playing a hymn and all the boys in the group singing.

The sound of it penetrated her ear drums capturing its living melody.

The expression of belief on their faces showed their real feelings for the God they were worshipping. It pierced her right through the heart.

“I don’t know why—Jesus loves, me, I don’t know why he cares . . .” they sang. She watched deep in thought as the words drove through her heart.

For the first time she thought may be there really was a God, a some body called Jesus Christ. These people couldn’t be liars. They all looked so sincere. They aren’t paid to do such a job, she thought, so why are they doing it? There must be something behind all thfs. In it pos sible? Could there really be a living God, their so-called Christ?

The music stopped just then as if anticipating some action from her.

She wanted more music, she wanted to ease her mind and heart. She had to find out somehow what was true.

Is it possible—oh! she didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want herself to be taken in by such actions. She must stick to her own principles.

There was no God and there was no other creation.

Just then one of the boys stood up and gave a testimony, firstly by explaining how he ‘came to know Christ. Before he took Christ he said his life had been empty. He looked for comfort in nightclubs, liquor and even drugs but he couldn’t find satisfaction until he took Jesus Christ as his saviour. Since then Christ had been an inspiration for him and he praised his name and would worship Him forever.

When he stopped, the band started up again playing a tune so slow and remote that it took her mind far, far away. Oh! what’s hap pening she wondered. Her inside was feeling funny and mixed up and she couldn’t think straight.

One after another the boys, made their confession of how they were before they acquired this life with Christ. Now they’d found what life and happiness really was and what it meant to walk hand in hand with God. After every confession there was more music that took her further away from her friends, from the people in that large hall.

SHE concentrated only on the faces of the singers, so sincere, so sure of their feelings and so proud to show them off to the others. She felt confused, and lost between two worlds—that of her friends and this new one these people were trying to show her. She had no one to confide in just then. All those sitting beside her were unknown to her. The de cision was her own. She was alone.

She didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly she pulled herself to gether when the group’s leader in vited the audience to bow their heads in prayer. She bowed willingly and closed her eyes. Maybe through these

prayers she would be able to make up her mind.

That was just it—the words of prayers hit the nail on the head, pierced her whole body, shaking it with emotion and realisation came to her about her aim in life. She had no pilot, no hope. She was really going on like a lost sheep, something she remembered mentioned in one of those fairy tales in the Bible.

She felt weak. She heard the man say “Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest”. Is it true? Should she believe it? What will her friends say? They would really have a good laugh. She heard the man saying “Now is the time to give yourself up. God will guide you, make you satisfied and happy. Come to him.

I’m inviting you. If you need help stand up and come forward”.

Immediately she stood up and slowly went down the steps. Her eyes blurred with tears. Heads turned up and took sidelong glances at her.

She didn’t care. Where was she going? She didn’t know. The longing there was all she knew. The longing to keep on going down the steps.

Something was leading her on, she didn’t know, an unknown person. She went on steadily. The music and the silence of the room made her long ing more conspicuous. She knew that all she had to do was to reach the stage and the people there.

She passed her friends who whis pered, “Come back, don’t be funny, you’ll be a laughing stock”. But all these seemed so far away. What dominated her was the music alive in her and the words “Come to me”.

At last she reached the main stage.

A few people were there. Her fellow comrades she thought, but she didn’t know any of them. One of the men came forward, took her hand and started praying for her. Just then, all her emotions boiled over. Tears rushed down her cheeks, her shoul ders shook uncontrollably, her knees felt weak and nearly gave way but incredibly she felt relieved; she felt happy, she didn’t feel funny and silly as she thought she would.

THE man stopped praying, got her seated and started counselling and talking to her. He congratulated her for being brave and encouraged her to carry on that way.

All at once her mind seemed to be put to rest. She couldn’t have cared less about what her friends would say about her. Even if they deserted her, she felt safe, as if she had something, a stronger friend who would help her fight her battles and keep her company.

Her counsellor gave her some

Rokobua Naiyaqa

pamphlets and small books about Christ and His works and she felt more confident.

The show ended, the audience stood up and left but she waited in side with her counsellor. When the hall was empty, the counsellor put both his hands on her shoulders and prayed for her for the last time.

Again she cried, this time with joy. Something was speaking to her.

She heard it but didn’t know where from. She felt confident and strong.

She knew she could stand up and defend herself in the eyes of her friends who were very much against Christianity let alone people who believed in it.

She got up from her prayers, the counsellor shook hands with her, patted her back and let go of her with the assurance that she would now find peace.

She walked out of the hall deep in thought. In less than three hours her beliefs had changed. What’s hap pened to her? Is it true, she thought.

Did she really give herself up to that fairy tale king? But something in her told her that the fairy tale king was alive and that He was the one who led her down those steps despite the sarcastic looks of the audience. She thanked her king right there and then and promised herself that she was going to stand up and protect him always, no matter what!

The following week she was back to thinking it was all fairy tales and she was wishing that the evangelists would return and reconvert her with their convincing words and music.

For the rest of her life it would always be like that and she would never understand why. Only that it was her.