I didn't know who she was or where she came from. All I know was that I could trust her, my gut was right on this one. This is it, I thought, this is what I've been asking for. I cleared my throat, "They say sometimes it takes one decision to completely turn your life around. Well, my decision, or in this case indecision, advanced my career, but ended my life," I began as I took out from the back pages of my journal, a photo of a teenage girl I murdered ten years ago...
The day quickly slipped by. It was almost eight when the taxi arrived. I helped her with her luggage as she gave me her contact details, which of her colleagues to call in case I couldn't reach her. All the while I was staring at this beautiful creation, marvelling at her grace, confidence and overall goodness. I was sad to see her leave and simultaneously anticipating her return eagerly. She then hugged me, promised she'd be back and whispered "I love you". I wanted to stop her, hold her, tell her not to leave me because she was my world. I was about to tell her all of this, but I stopped. I couldn't say those words. I wouldn't.
You should know and be sure that debates which are designed for the purpose of overcoming and silencing an opponent as well as for displaying one's excellence and honour, bragging before men, boasting and being contradictory, or for the sake of winning popular favour, are the source of all traits blameworthy before God and praiseworthy before His enemy, the devil.
You're probably wondering why the heck you'd want to read an article based on the aforementioned title. Well, my job is to give you, dear reader, a perspective on things that you may seem irrelevant or unrelated in your life. Debate is like a very sharp sword. Handled properly, one will be able to slay the enemy that is usually in the form of falsehood, uncertainty, confusion, ignorance and so forth. However, handled carelessly, you'll soon know what life is like without an arm or a foot.
Just imagine, the first time in quite a while you go back to praying in congregation, my dang shoes get stolen. A tragic comedy if you ask me. As soon as I get home, I throw myself on my bed, dejected, staring stony-faced at nothing while contemplating on which curse I should place on the heartless bastard that stole my shoes! (Pardon the strong language, I'm merely expressing my emotional state at that time).
One of my great uncles once remarked to an overweight woman that God didn't like fat people. Needless to say she was reduced to tears. Then she lamented, “But how can that be? He's the one that made me this way!”. He defended his comment by pointing out that overweight people were generally lazy in worship.
Wouldn't it be boring if we had just one colour? Like, if all humans were white or black or brown, would it be really beautiful?