As a child, I heard so much about Jesus. We sang about Him in the kindergarten classes. I was taught about the Saviour born in the manger, who walked the length and breadth of Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria doing good, healing the sick, cleansing the leper, delivering those that were possessed of demons, feeding thousands of people. I was told that when you come unto Him with your sorrows and tears, He would just wipe them away. No one ever came to Him and left the same. Everybody benefited in one way or the other from the Ministry and Life of the Saviour Jesus Christ. He even loves little children and would normally carry them on His lap and bless them. All these I heard at children’s Sunday school and devotions. I then became anxious to see this Jesus face to face. I wanted Him to touch me. All the people I met, no one resembled the affectionate Jesus I had been told of; not one, in the whole vicinity. None cared as much as Jesus.
Then came that fateful day, when on the street of Aba in Abia State, Nigeria, near the rail, came I, a little boy, at the age of 6, hawking some bananas as instructed by my Aunty. “Banana, banana” I chanted along the way. Suddenly like a flood, a bus driver knocked me down and my bananas were crushed and mashed. How much I wept when I remembered the whipping that awaited me at home. Yet none around cared, none bothered to ask. They busied themselves with their businesses and even complained that I was disturbing their peace. I remembered the Jesus of my kindergarten and desperately wished He were there to console me and throw His arms around me. I sat there wailing.
Oh, how glad I was when a man walked straight to me and asked about the matter. I showed him my crushed bananas and the punishment that awaited me at home. The man bent down, placed his hand on my shoulder, and asked how much it all cost? I told him. He pulled out from his pocket, five hundred Naira (approx. $4.00) and bade me go in peace. Joy filled my heart. Oh, at last I had met Jesus! Who else could be so good? I joyfully asked the man: “Sir, are you Jesus; the Jesus of my kindergarten class? He simply smiled and said ‘No’ but I am his ambassador, I’m a child of God. I thanked him profusely for letting me see Jesus through his life, in that singular demonstration of the love of Christ.
Now, I am an adult. Today, 4th August 2003, along Sani Abacha Road in G.R.A, Port Harcourt, Rivers State Nigeria, an opportunity was presented unto me to reveal Jesus to a little child whom I met crying over a missing sum of money from her petty trading. I looked at her, thinking of how to manifest the love of Christ to her. Unfortunately, the traffic moved on so quickly and I hurried off. ‘Oh la-la’, I regret my inability to help the child meet a type-of-Jesus. I wanted to act like Christ for that weeping child. Another excuse and many excuses we always give.
What many of such opportunities we’ve been missing to ‘showcase’ the Lord Jesus to a needy neighbour, colleague, relation, brother, sister, et al. Do we realize that you and I are ‘the Jesus’ the world can see today? To make Him real is BEYOND what we say in our Fellowships and Churches, but is SEEN in what we DO in His stead (in His place) for one another and the love we show to those in need. We can, like Jesus, heal, help, feed, lift off a burden and wipe somebody’s tears away TODAY; that’s really the way to reveal Christ. Christ and love (Agape) go together. The song: ‘Let the beauty of Jesus be seen (on) in me, of His wondrous compassion and purity …’ should be more of our prayer than song. The Lord Jesus said: “Come to Me, all you that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest (Matt. 11:28). May the Lord help us to return to the old Apostolic love-way. Amen.
“…You are the Epistle of Christ …written not with ink, but with the Spirit of God” 2nd Cor. 3:3
Sis. Oluchi Nwankwo, an Evangelist, Teacher and Preacher of the Word of God, writes from Port Harcourt, Rivers State Nigeria. She is an Associate Training Secretary of NIFES, on part time among Nigerian Christian students in tertiary institutions. E-mail: [email protected]