We are the same.?

The sight of blood used to make her queasy, And then yesterday, there was a picture on Facebook of dead, mangled bodies, blood splattered everywhere, insides all out like an animal to be cleaned.

And she lingered, and looked and examined the picture, from all angles, and she didn’t feel queasy, or sick, or irritated.

She felt satisfaction.

They were Boko-haram.
They kill hundreds, and thousands of people and enjoy it and feel satisfaction.

So, is she really different from them?

Or is that the point?
Do they essentially just want to turn us all into insane blood-craving vampires? If that’s the case, then someone should tell them its done, we’re there now. We crave their blood, heads and gory insides like we crave food.
We want to dance all over their mangled, broken bodies. And we know we’ll feel no remorse.

But that isn’t right, right?

漏Adeola Matemilola 2017

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Thoughts… Sunday

Growing up, I was surrounded by music, really great music… My dad has always been a great lover of music and books and to this day, he still buys my best books for me.
He certainly created in me and my siblings a great love for country music… Dolly Parton, Jim Reeves, Kenny Rogers, Willie Nelson etc are people we grew up listening to and then adding a long list of younger country artists to the mix as we grew up. A lot of my friends actually cannot stand my music, but I absolutely love country music because I feel like it has substance and I can relate to them on a deep level.
For this gift, I thank my dad 馃榾

Anyway, I digress… In those days, there was a CD my dad used to play in the car all the time, the first song on it was one that spoke about a man who got to heaven and all the people he had ever helped while on earth started to come to him one after the other to thank him and all, and I was always amazed at that song because it was obvious that the man didn’t even know that he had affected so many lives and in such little ways.
It made me realize just how much the little things that we do means to someone, how we affect people without even knowing it.
It had me imagining what it would be like for something like that to happen to me, how would I feel?

So I have decided to share the lines to the song here in the hope that it will speak to you the way it always does to me.
And I thank Ray Boltz for this amazing song;

I dreamed I went to heaven
And you were there with me;
We walked upon the streets of gold
Beside the crystal sea.
We heard the angels singing
Then someone called your name.
We turned and saw a young man running
And he was smiling as he came.

And he said, “Friend you may not know me now.”
And then he said, “But wait,
You used to teach my Sunday School
When I was only eight.
And every week you would say a prayer
Before the class would start.
And one day when you said that prayer,
I asked Jesus in my heart.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

Then another man stood before you
And said, “Remember the time
A missionary came to your church
And his pictures made you cry.
You didn’t have much money,
But you gave it anyway.
Jesus took the gift you gave
And that’s why I’m here today.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.

One by one they came
Far as the eye could see.
Each life somehow touched
By your generosity.
Little things that you had done,
Sacrifices made,
Unnoticed on the earth
In heaven, now proclaimed.

And I know up in heaven
You’re not supposed to cry
But I am almost sure
There were tears in your eyes.
As Jesus took your hand
And you stood before the Lord.
He said, “My child, look around you.
Great is your reward.”

Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you for giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you gave.