‘I love this family of God, so closely knitted into oooone they have taken me into their arms and I’m so glad to be a part of this great family.’
I love this song so much. Every time it is sung in church at the end of service, I always feel like I belong to a family that isn’t going to let me go.
It was not always that way. But something changed. Let me tell you my story.
One Thursday in January, tragedy struck in my family.
I was sitting outside our apartment when I saw two of my dad’s friends walking towards me. My dad had left the house that morning to visit one of his friends who had lost his wife in an accident.
He had promised to get some food ingredients for us on his way back so we could have something to eat during the week.
So why were his friends coming instead of him?
As they walked towards me, something told me the worst had happened. They had a strange look on their face. Something wasn’t right, but somewhere in my heart, I hoped for the best.
My mum had died during child birth and my dad was all I had, without him, my life was pointless.
My dad’s friends finally got to me and the first thing they did was unusual. They sat next to me. If you know Baba Moji (one of my dad’s friends) you will know that something must be awfully wrong for him to sit with a small child like me. He would have started shouting my name, several streets before he got to my house.
Anyway back to my story.
After asking me series of random questions, daddy’s friends started telling me of how he had left the house of the bereaved and was returning home when a careless truck driver hit him and took off.
He died on the spot and was taken to the mortuary.
Just like that?
I couldn’t believe my ears.
How does a person die on a condolence visit, did they share death at the house of the bereaved? Why did God allow something like that? I was bitter and angry with God.
I cried for days and I locked myself up. I should have gone with my father. There was nothing left for me, I was hopeless.
I remember how one of my aunties forcefully stayed in the house with me so I wouldn’t do something stupid.
There were so many dreams. I had promised to make him proud and now God allowed something so wicked.
Church was the last thing on my mind, there was no point. Who did I know even know in church?
I wasn’t a worker so nobody would notice. I just sat at home. Later that day there was a knock on the door and as my aunty opened I could hear the voices from a distance. I went to the parlour only to see that aunty from church that used to stand at the door, she was one of the protocol members, I also saw my beloved Sunday school teacher.
They didn’t know what had happened but they had come to look for me because I had been absent from church. I was surprised. So somebody noticed!
When my aunty told them the sad news, they were shocked but they hugged me tight, listened to me and even prayed for me. It wasn’t so much but it felt nice to know that some people still cared.
Aunty Clara said something that touched me. She said although my daddy was gone, I still had people around. She sounded so sure, she reminded me of the widow in the Bible whom God took care of when her husband’s debtors were on her neck. If God could do that for the widow then my case was settled.
As they spoke to me my soul was lifted, I felt a flood of joy all round and my heart leaped with joy.
Now this was the part that touched me the most.
I had thought that all my dreams had died with my father; I just wrote my SSCE exams and was hoping to go to the university. But now that daddy was gone who would help me? I was getting used to settling to look for any job to at least survive, but the church proved me wrong.
Aunty Clara had spoken to the pastor about my situation, even before I told him anything.
A few days later, the pastor came to my house with some ministers, they came to not only pray for me but offer to pay for my university fees.
Really? ‘But I can’t pay you back sir’
My Pastor laughed. He asked that I paid them back by excelling in school. He said that since my dad’s relatives couldn’t help me, the church would not leave me alone.
I am in my third year in school and true to his words, I have not known lack. People see me in school and don’t know my story except I tell.
The church was my pillar of support, my abode of comfort. I come from a very poor family but God truly brought wealth and promotion my way because of His church. My dreams would have ended with my father but the church brought it to back to life.
Truly there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother and to me that brother is the church.
Can you now see why I can’t stop singing ‘I love this family of God? Every word of it is true. The church is truly my family and your family too.
Don’t keep your problems to yourself. That’s why you belong to this church.
I love this song so much. Every time it is sung in church at the end of service, I always feel like I belong to a family that isn’t going to let me go.
It was not always that way. But something changed. Let me tell you my story.
One Thursday in January, tragedy struck in my family.
I was sitting outside our apartment when I saw two of my dad’s friends walking towards me. My dad had left the house that morning to visit one of his friends who had lost his wife in an accident.
He had promised to get some food ingredients for us on his way back so we could have something to eat during the week.
So why were his friends coming instead of him?
As they walked towards me, something told me the worst had happened. They had a strange look on their face. Something wasn’t right, but somewhere in my heart, I hoped for the best.
My mum had died during child birth and my dad was all I had, without him, my life was pointless.
My dad’s friends finally got to me and the first thing they did was unusual. They sat next to me. If you know Baba Moji (one of my dad’s friends) you will know that something must be awfully wrong for him to sit with a small child like me. He would have started shouting my name, several streets before he got to my house.
Anyway back to my story.
After asking me series of random questions, daddy’s friends started telling me of how he had left the house of the bereaved and was returning home when a careless truck driver hit him and took off.
He died on the spot and was taken to the mortuary.
Just like that?
I couldn’t believe my ears.
How does a person die on a condolence visit, did they share death at the house of the bereaved? Why did God allow something like that? I was bitter and angry with God.
I cried for days and I locked myself up. I should have gone with my father. There was nothing left for me, I was hopeless.
I remember how one of my aunties forcefully stayed in the house with me so I wouldn’t do something stupid.
There were so many dreams. I had promised to make him proud and now God allowed something so wicked.
Church was the last thing on my mind, there was no point. Who did I know even know in church?
I wasn’t a worker so nobody would notice. I just sat at home. Later that day there was a knock on the door and as my aunty opened I could hear the voices from a distance. I went to the parlour only to see that aunty from church that used to stand at the door, she was one of the protocol members, I also saw my beloved Sunday school teacher.
They didn’t know what had happened but they had come to look for me because I had been absent from church. I was surprised. So somebody noticed!
When my aunty told them the sad news, they were shocked but they hugged me tight, listened to me and even prayed for me. It wasn’t so much but it felt nice to know that some people still cared.
Aunty Clara said something that touched me. She said although my daddy was gone, I still had people around. She sounded so sure, she reminded me of the widow in the Bible whom God took care of when her husband’s debtors were on her neck. If God could do that for the widow then my case was settled.
As they spoke to me my soul was lifted, I felt a flood of joy all round and my heart leaped with joy.
Now this was the part that touched me the most.
I had thought that all my dreams had died with my father; I just wrote my SSCE exams and was hoping to go to the university. But now that daddy was gone who would help me? I was getting used to settling to look for any job to at least survive, but the church proved me wrong.
Aunty Clara had spoken to the pastor about my situation, even before I told him anything.
A few days later, the pastor came to my house with some ministers, they came to not only pray for me but offer to pay for my university fees.
Really? ‘But I can’t pay you back sir’
My Pastor laughed. He asked that I paid them back by excelling in school. He said that since my dad’s relatives couldn’t help me, the church would not leave me alone.
I am in my third year in school and true to his words, I have not known lack. People see me in school and don’t know my story except I tell.
The church was my pillar of support, my abode of comfort. I come from a very poor family but God truly brought wealth and promotion my way because of His church. My dreams would have ended with my father but the church brought it to back to life.
Truly there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother and to me that brother is the church.
Can you now see why I can’t stop singing ‘I love this family of God? Every word of it is true. The church is truly my family and your family too.
Don’t keep your problems to yourself. That’s why you belong to this church.
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