Letters To Lovelyn (Vol. 1): A Beautiful Vat of Potential



My Dear Lovelyn,

The deft fingers of God produce such splendiferous creatures exuding fragrant beauty, distinctive grace, and enthralling charm in illimitable proportions; and in such a verifiable and refined class of individuals, you may take your reserved seat at its apogee.

The psalmist agrees and asseverates: “I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.”[1]

I am in a state of efflorescent excitement and exuberant felicity as I plop myself into a gambit of what would crank the shaft for some deep thoughts to skip out of my brain into yours. In fact, such has been the convulsion of ideas in the grey matter of my brain; and I am pleasantly impatient to allow its beautiful lava to crystallise through this medium of letter writing—an old-fashioned but much-loved practice boasting practical value and valuable effect.

White Crows Flying Low


It has been said time in and time out that there is no such thing as a white crow; and any such must be albinic. Should we agree with this view? Should we give up our search for such rare finds—that are not defective—and join the band serenading their non-existence? Nonetheless, I believe without a fleck of chimerical whimsicality that there are such rare creatures; I do believe there are: there must be many such.

Now, before you start searching for such, I have even more intriguing news for you: there is a certain creature I have searched through seven billion likes only to discover there is but only one that exists. My acquired consternation made me scowl in perpetuity and on occasion snarled, as I expected to find more than just one. In a state of unbearable lassitude I gave up the search and resigned myself to the truth that there is only one. Trust me, I did not want to believe that there is just that one; after all, I had clasped a titanic hope and sturdy expectation that there perhaps had to be one more—I genuinely believed there must be; and yet to my interminable chagrin, I found none other.

You may be wondering what at all I seem to be travelling in a circuitous, sinuous, and serpentine manner trying to describe. My deliberate desultory and discursive manner is a result of a frantic search that yielded no fruits. I must try to convey how much of a roundabout manner I have travelled seeking for this priceless hoard which has only proven a solitary jewel in such a vast universe.

You see, I know you may be inclined to go searching, but if you will permit me to save you some time and effort: you need not go searching! You may still struggle with the inclination to search, but you must put such a desire to bed. Like a flicker that can cause a conflagration, you need to extinguish it anon! Why? It would be a fruitless search and a wanton dissipation of resources; and this scarce time and effort once spent is irreplaceable. So don’t go searching.

Are you getting a trifle confused why I am writing in such a manner? Are your eager-beaver tints poring through your sense of composure? Are you losing your stockpiles of sangfroid? Should I not just say what I seem to be going on about? But how much frolicsome value and rollicking joy can you get from a rollercoaster, if it only travels like the London tubes?

Now, back to my analogy of the white crow. There are creatures rarer than this, but not sure what they truly are. Trust me on this: these creatures are flying so low they can be seen, touched and felt. Perhaps, you are scoping through the same telescope as I am. You have figured out what I must be referring to. I know you are a smart girl—yes, you are, and I have known it since our paths first tantalisingly crossed as an act of divine providence.

My Dear Lovelyn, you see, as a person, you are so rare; there is no other person like you. Yes, there is only one Lovelyn and that is you! Don’t be quick to tell me there are other people called Lovelyn. Shouldn’t I know this? Forget those people and believe me when I say there is only one Lovelyn and that Lovelyn is you. If the other people wearing a blinding tag or having a covering of gossamers with Lovelyn written over it will be up in searing arms; let them go on a demonstration—who cares? I am adamantine in my entrenched position that there is still one Lovelyn and that is you. Other people can also belt out their own stentorian tunes, but that will not change this truth that there is one Lovelyn and that is you—a spotlessly pure white crow living at present in England, but vigorously and passionately pluming her wings for a huge plunge, exquisite flight, and artistic display in the vastitude of a horizon called world stage. And the clocks will soon strike six for you. 

Identity, Complexity, and Individuality


A squeezing pack of confused souls are sauntering the surface of the earth. In fact, there will be several other flaccid packs embarking on such infinitesimal processions as the world moves through this timeless proscenium called time. But, why such a situation? Identity problems!

I postulate with emphatic conviction and resolute confidence that the number one problem that we have is not even sin—it is identity. In fact, sin is a product of a misplaced, misunderstood, misconstrued identity! Pause and think about that for a moment. Such is the acute nature of the issue that it has snowballed and suppurated with expansive degeneracy and ubiquitous disrepair into a fully-fledged identity crisis of epic proportions. A careful reading of the text in Genesis reveals that Eve was the first person to suffer from this problem, and as “she was the mother of all living”[2] she has passed this undesirable trait to all her offspring.

It is fitting to shed more light on the claims I am making above. And for that, I shall reproduce the account in the Garden of Eden below from Genesis 3:1-7 [note my emphasis (v. 5)]:

1 Now the serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden? 2 And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden: 3 But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die. 4 And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: 5 For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. 6 And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her; and he did eat. 7 And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons.

This is a fascinating account that has been rehearsed in the ears of every believer ad infinitum; but I need to still repeat it to support my argumentation. Some people will erroneously conclude that by eating the fruit of the tree and their eyes being opened for them to see that they were naked, there must be nothing amiss with this. But that is a grave error such people will make, if they adopt such a position. Some may even go as far as suggesting that for them to know good and evil as suggested by the serpent meant that they did not already know evil from good. But that argument cannot stand the test of critical scrutiny. It falls flat on the face when one remembers who is talking—the devil, the father of lies (John 8:44)—and also that God had given man a clear command not to violate, with stated consequences (Genesis 2:17). Was the man so asinine and nescient he could not discern a “do” from a “don’t”? You see, there are more issues that we can argue about here, but so as not to digress from our objective, let’s return to the identity issue.

Adam and Eve had been made in the image of God: “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.”[3]

If God created Adam and Eve in His image, then they were fundamentally endowed with the nature of gods. Psalm 82:6 supports this view, saying, “I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High.” To suggest—by the devil—that they were not gods was in itself deceptive as was his proposition that they would know evil and good. As part of Eve falling for this ruse was that she saw the tree as one “to be desired to make one wise.” This in itself is an issue of confusion. Is she suggesting that God had made her unwise, if we are to temper our critique with a suspicion of empathy?

Why would a person pay a huge price to become what he or she already is? Today, in this workaday world of ours, there are many who have not yet discovered their real identity and like Eve are taking steps with stinging repercussions awaiting. Men, women, boys, girls, the whole gamut of people one is likely to come across are struggling with identity issues. In sum, they do not know who they are neither what they are here for.

Such identity crisis shows itself in the level of complexity that we see in our world today. Just think of the length that people would go to become what they are not or trying to become. Life for many such people is as complex as a tangled skein and knotty rope that refuses to be straightened or untied. You see, Lovelyn, until a person solves their identity problems, they can only attract complexity in their lives even when they want to assert their individuality. It is a difficult issue to raise but one very true when carefully considered.

We as believers should not find ourselves in such a situation, although there are many who have set up camp there. You see, we were lost without hope and God sent Christ to restore our true identity. Based upon His work, we can boldly believe that in spite of where we have been, who we have been, and what we have done; when we come to Christ, we have our identity restored. And once we fully embrace this (and what He generously offers), we jump out of the cauldron of baffling confusion and complexity that many find themselves in. Paul encourages, us saying, “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”[4]

Pristine Personality In Soiled Nature 

 

In truth, the puzzling situation we find ourselves in is that we have a new man living in an old body. That by design will result in nothing but conflict. It is like mixing the cleanest and freshest oil with the dirtiest and filthiest oil; yes, they are both oils but one is in its best state and the other, in a deteriorated state; and mixing them will definitely spring up a few issues.

While we are saved, we still live in bodies which on several grounds, are flawed in every sense of the word. Likewise, there is almost infinite potential in you, but you live in a finite body. Paul writes, reminding us of such truth when he observes: “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.”[5]

The above Scripture should shine the truth on the situation that we cannot amount to much without God. Lovelyn, remember that the excellency of the power will be of God and not of you.

You see, many believers attempt to go solo in their quest to develop their talents without realising that they cannot do it outside of God. “But some do,” someone may quip! My riposte: Where do such people usually end up?

So never forget that while your strengths are limited, the dreams that God has currently given you and will continue to give will be nothing short of infinite in look, feel, and appearance.

Fit For A Divine Purpose


Seven billion souls are out there, and yet you are fit for the purpose for which God created you. Indeed, I have charted your course from being barely out of your teens to blossoming into a nubile person. Yes, I have seen the first fine caress of flushing love coursing through your veins. Moreover, I have espied you establishing yourself as a virtuous wife of a good man. Your progress in my view has been nothing but impressive. And from where I am descrying the events of your life, you are growing in leaps and bounds with great things ahead of you.

You ooze refreshing confidence, not the one that makes people turn up their noses. Your kind of confidence is good and needed. There are other attributes that we both are aware you have which you need for the road—they are necessary additions in the toolbox of life. That said, you have something that trumps the others all day: your willingness to believe God and your hunger for more of Him. These last two will send you very far in life. With prescient exactitude and resounding assurance, I can vaticinate you will rise to aerie pedestals, dizzy heights, and coveted pinnacles of life.

Wake up every morning, my dear, with bustling confidence and indomitable determination and look in the mirror and say to yourself:

The Lord is on my side,
I shall excel in life!

Never forget Romans 8:31: “What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?”

Discover & Document Your Assignment


As an essential task, kindly go on a total discovery of your full assignment. Here are five questions you should ask yourself. Please endeavour to write a minimum of one page each for each question below:

1. Who am I? - Identity & Personality
2. Where am I from? - Origin & Heritage
3. Why am I here? - Purpose & Assignment
4. What can I do? - Potential & Gifting
5. Where am I going? - Hope & Destiny

Please do yourself a favour by writing out your answers. It would prove beneficial to you in every respect. Resist the temptation of only thinking in your head without transcribing your discoveries. You must believe, cherish, and document your discoveries.

If you are struggling with any of the answers above, please do well to ask God for help. He is only a prayer away. Know that some of the answers to the questions above may not be straightforward; yet you must answer them.

Define Your Assignment


Question Three above is of substratal importance and imperative thrust and as such it is worth elucidating. Once you have discovered your purpose and assignment, you need to define it in workable and sizeable terms. Yes, you need to break it down into minuscule parts you can relate to.

For example, I will tell you mine, when we get the chance to speak. I have broken mine down into three words. These are the three most important words in my world.  No other words move me more than these three—that is my life in three words!

The culmination of your definition is for you to narrow down your assignment to the point you can summarise it in one statement. You should be able to tell me your life in just one sentence—that is the vertex of intense discovery!

You see, for laughs, if I could mention a word like:
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

This is listed as the longest word in most dictionaries, longer than “floccinaucinihilipilification” which is the Oxford Dictionary’s longest word; this sesquipedalian and hilarious word is a combination of words which give the meaning as “a lung disease caused by the inhalation of silica dust.”

Now to more serious matters, what I am driving at is that you should acquaint yourself so much with what your assignment is that you can even reduce it to a couple of words.

Spend requisite time and define your assignment to its finest details—it is a valuable exercise you must undertake.

Develop Yourself


It has been said that when all is said and done, more is said than done. Haven’t most people become talking shops prating on and on with nothing meaningful to show? You must not be caught in such a useless swirl or boondoggle maelstrom.

Ultimately, you must work and develop your assignment; but I cannot stress how important it is for you to develop yourself. I am a puissant exponent in asking people to develop themselves. Mediocrity is my best enemy: I covet practical perfection. Someday, I’ll let you know why I say practical perfection and not just perfection. But please invest significant effort in developing yourself. You must commit to such a peregrination with all the powers you can marshal. Fix yourself on a self-development bent.

Guess what, I am cheering you on to be the best you could ever be. I am already taken in by the progress you have made. I can’t wait for what the next phase has in store for you. But please devote your entire effort and last strength to a life of improving yourself so you can ascend vital ladders to arrive at the acmatic position a certain voice calls you to come up to. That voice is in your ears.

I hope you will enjoy this letter as much as I have, digging into a certain internal brook lying deep down within my soul and churning forth the words above. I pray you will find them a real blessing.

God offers you the support you need to get through life; however, do not refrain from giving me a shout out, if I can be of assistance to you in any way. I am at your service as God's servant.

Lovelyn, remember there is a beautiful vat of potential situated within you; it is yours, it is right within you and you owe yourself and the God who placed such in you to take full ownership, prime yourself, and aim your best efforts to achieve something of significant effect and substantial renown. I know you will!

Love always,
Dr. F. R. Silverson

Notes – All Scriptures are from the King James Version


[1] Psalm 139:14
[2] Genesis 3:20
[3] Genesis 1:26-27
[4] 2 Corinthians 5:17
[5] 2 Corinthians 4:7
You can email me at frsilverson@yahoo.com or read my blog at http://franksilverson.blogspot.co.uk/

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A Tribute To Komla Dumor: When The Peals Fail

Cataract of Emotions
Having been sucked into a vortex of sadness since Saturday, I am gravid with pain and perhaps by inditing this piece, I may yet lessen the preponderant funereal and lugubrious grip of such emotions holding sway.
Death is not only cruel, it is much more.
It cuts and thwarts; yes, it triturates roseate dreams into much less than noisome rubbles. It is that which slices through even the most hardened heart and subjugates it with hoops of steel without recourse to feelings of consolation.
When such a beautiful flower blossoming into something of splendiferous beauty, value, and service is severed from its branch posthaste and without notice, it must surely be decried and lamented.
Komla Dumor, although not known personally by as many as knew him, seems to have had a relationship with all. Yes, it seems like all those who either listened to him or watched him, had a connection of sorts with him. He was simply supreme at what he did—and yes, to the best of his God-endowed ability—with admirable assiduity, meticulous zest, and infectious finesse. The coveted accolades he was feted with; matched by the affectionate outpouring of tributes like a waterfall on different media is conclusive evidence.
Afternoon Moon
What gets me cerebrating on this issue rather than celebrating not long after the passing of Africa’s colossus numero uno, is why such a young man in his prime flickers off the screen of life and we espy his, as having been a rather scurried life. Yes, he seems to have scampered across our eyes and we could have spent a lot more time together either in proximity or from a distance. Indeed, the night seems to have fallen right at noontime. But why not after a few more hours?
And why did the moon temerariously step out of its majestic mansion at midday to plop the curtain on a ceremony which was surely on an acclivity? What bathos to see this lunar appearance prove so destructive and thrust us into mourning when we would rather marinate in mirth as we watch and hear from such a nonpareil compère?
Recurring Concept Which Baffles Reason
Surely death seems to prove quite heart-wrenching at several instances. It has not lost its capacity to bewilder. It flaps its interminable wings only to confer on us an unbearable frisson leaving us with moistened eyes and a sizable lump in our throats. Our involuntary riposte is not far from snorkelling as well as choking on our tears.
We hear people dying every day and yes, they continue to die. In a sense, it is nothing new; and yet, we are still not comfortable with such a phenomenon—but how could we? How we very much will—if we could—wrestle and wrench its power, lop off its irritable tail, and curtail its dreaded tentacles. But for now, it continues to elude and baffle us in disproportionate measure.
On this side of eternity, our collective wisdom is yet to rectify this malady. On the other side though, not only will we understand the true reasons—why it happens when it does—rather than settle for plausible, ostensible, or perhaps even spurious and specious reasons. We can be confidently sure that this undesirable enemy who manages to invade the belfry and deny the bells their ability to cheer would be destroyed. And when that day comes, we can expect that not only would the peals never fail—they will cheer us for eternity.
But for now, we mourn and rightly so. And in so doing, we warmly remember close family members of Komla Dumor, particularly his wife (Kwansema) and children (Elinam Makafui, Elorm Efadzinam, and Emefa Araba). May the good Lord benignly provide them with clean, trim, fresh tissues to desiccate the rivers of tears that are facilely flowing down their crimson-coloured cheeks at such a difficult time. God’s broad shoulders are the only stable shoulders during such a parlous period in this transient peregrination called life. And may the Lord be with us all at such a trying time.
We all need comfort in divers ways.
Fare thee well, Komla.
Dr. F. R. Silverson
E: frsilverson@yahoo.com                      

Great Speech By President Obama at Mandela's Memorial Service

I found this speech pleasantly poignant.
I hope you enjoy reading it. Here is the full transcript:

President Obama addressed the memorial for former South African president Nelson Mandela; this is a transcript of his remarks as delivered.

Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. To Graça Machel and the Mandela family; to President Zuma and members of the government; to heads of states and government, past and present; distinguished guests -- it is a singular honor to be with you today, to celebrate a life like no other. To the people of South Africa -- people of every race and walk of life -- the world thanks you for sharing Nelson Mandela with us. His struggle was your struggle. His triumph was your triumph. Your dignity and your hope found expression in his life. And your freedom, your democracy is his cherished legacy.
It is hard to eulogize any man -- to capture in words not just the facts and the dates that make a life, but the essential truth of a person -- their private joys and sorrows; the quiet moments and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul. How much harder to do so for a giant of history, who moved a nation toward justice, and in the process moved billions around the world.
Born during World War I, far from the corridors of power, a boy raised herding cattle and tutored by the elders of his Thembu tribe, Madiba would emerge as the last great liberator of the 20th century. Like Gandhi, he would lead a resistance movement -- a movement that at its start had little prospect for success. Like Dr. King, he would give potent voice to the claims of the oppressed and the moral necessity of racial justice. He would endure a brutal imprisonment that began in the time of Kennedy and Khrushchev, and reached the final days of the Cold War. Emerging from prison, without the force of arms, he would -- like Abraham Lincoln -- hold his country together when it threatened to break apart. And like America’s Founding Fathers, he would erect a constitutional order to preserve freedom for future generations -- a commitment to democracy and rule of law ratified not only by his election, but by his willingness to step down from power after only one term.
Given the sweep of his life, the scope of his accomplishments, the adoration that he so rightly earned, it’s tempting I think to remember Nelson Mandela as an icon, smiling and serene, detached from the tawdry affairs of lesser men. But Madiba himself strongly resisted such a lifeless portrait. Instead, Madiba insisted on sharing with us his doubts and his fears; his miscalculations along with his victories. “I am not a saint,” he said, “unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.”
It was precisely because he could admit to imperfection -- because he could be so full of good humor, even mischief, despite the heavy burdens he carried -- that we loved him so. He was not a bust made of marble; he was a man of flesh and blood -- a son and a husband, a father and a friend. And that’s why we learned so much from him, and that’s why we can learn from him still. For nothing he achieved was inevitable. In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned his place in history through struggle and shrewdness, and persistence and faith. He tells us what is possible not just in the pages of history books, but in our own lives as well.
Mandela showed us the power of action; of taking risks on behalf of our ideals. Perhaps Madiba was right that he inherited, “a proud rebelliousness, a stubborn sense of fairness” from his father. And we know he shared with millions of black and colored South Africans the anger born of, “a thousand slights, a thousand indignities, a thousand unremembered moments…a desire to fight the system that imprisoned my people,” he said.
But like other early giants of the ANC -- the Sisulus and Tambos -- Madiba disciplined his anger and channeled his desire to fight into organization, and platforms, and strategies for action, so men and women could stand up for their God-given dignity. Moreover, he accepted the consequences of his actions, knowing that standing up to powerful interests and injustice carries a price. “I have fought against white domination and I have fought against black domination. I’ve cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and [with] equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”
Mandela taught us the power of action, but he also taught us the power of ideas; the importance of reason and arguments; the need to study not only those who you agree with, but also those who you don’t agree with. He understood that ideas cannot be contained by prison walls, or extinguished by a sniper’s bullet. He turned his trial into an indictment of apartheid because of his eloquence and his passion, but also because of his training as an advocate. He used decades in prison to sharpen his arguments, but also to spread his thirst for knowledge to others in the movement. And he learned the language and the customs of his oppressor so that one day he might better convey to them how their own freedom depend upon his.
Mandela demonstrated that action and ideas are not enough. No matter how right, they must be chiseled into law and institutions. He was practical, testing his beliefs against the hard surface of circumstance and history. On core principles he was unyielding, which is why he could rebuff offers of unconditional release, reminding the Apartheid regime that “prisoners cannot enter into contracts.”
But as he showed in painstaking negotiations to transfer power and draft new laws, he was not afraid to compromise for the sake of a larger goal. And because he was not only a leader of a movement but a skillful politician, the Constitution that emerged was worthy of this multiracial democracy, true to his vision of laws that protect minority as well as majority rights, and the precious freedoms of every South African.
And finally, Mandela understood the ties that bind the human spirit. There is a word in South Africa -- Ubuntu -- a word that captures Mandela’s greatest gift: his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that are invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and caring for those around us.
We can never know how much of this sense was innate in him, or how much was shaped in a dark and solitary cell. But we remember the gestures, large and small -- introducing his jailers as honored guests at his inauguration; taking a pitch in a Springbok uniform; turning his family’s heartbreak into a call to confront HIV/AIDS -- that revealed the depth of his empathy and his understanding. He not only embodied Ubuntu, he taught millions to find that truth within themselves.
It took a man like Madiba to free not just the prisoner, but the jailer as well to show that you must trust others so that they may trust you; to teach that reconciliation is not a matter of ignoring a cruel past, but a means of confronting it with inclusion and generosity and truth. He changed laws, but he also changed hearts.
For the people of South Africa, for those he inspired around the globe, Madiba’s passing is rightly a time of mourning, and a time to celebrate a heroic life. But I believe it should also prompt in each of us a time for self-reflection. With honesty, regardless of our station or our circumstance, we must ask: How well have I applied his lessons in my own life? It’s a question I ask myself, as a man and as a President.
We know that, like South Africa, the United States had to overcome centuries of racial subjugation. As was true here, it took sacrifice -- the sacrifice of countless people, known and unknown, to see the dawn of a new day. Michelle and I are beneficiaries of that struggle. But in America, and in South Africa, and in countries all around the globe, we cannot allow our progress to cloud the fact that our work is not yet done.
The struggles that follow the victory of formal equality or universal franchise may not be as filled with drama and moral clarity as those that came before, but they are no less important. For around the world today, we still see children suffering from hunger and disease. We still see run-down schools. We still see young people without prospects for the future. Around the world today, men and women are still imprisoned for their political beliefs, and are still persecuted for what they look like, and how they worship, and who they love. That is happening today.
And so we, too, must act on behalf of justice. We, too, must act on behalf of peace. There are too many people who happily embrace Madiba’s legacy of racial reconciliation, but passionately resist even modest reforms that would challenge chronic poverty and growing inequality. There are too many leaders who claim solidarity with Madiba’s struggle for freedom, but do not tolerate dissent from their own people. And there are too many of us on the sidelines, comfortable in complacency or cynicism when our voices must be heard.
The questions we face today -- how to promote equality and justice; how to uphold freedom and human rights; how to end conflict and sectarian war -- these things do not have easy answers. But there were no easy answers in front of that child born in World War I. Nelson Mandela reminds us that it always seems impossible until it is done. South Africa shows that is true. South Africa shows we can change, that we can choose a world defined not by our differences, but by our common hopes. We can choose a world defined not by conflict, but by peace and justice and opportunity.
We will never see the likes of Nelson Mandela again. But let me say to the young people of Africa and the young people around the world -- you, too, can make his life’s work your own. Over 30 years ago, while still a student, I learned of Nelson Mandela and the struggles taking place in this beautiful land, and it stirred something in me. It woke me up to my responsibilities to others and to myself, and it set me on an improbable journey that finds me here today. And while I will always fall short of Madiba’s example, he makes me want to be a better man. He speaks to what’s best inside us.
After this great liberator is laid to rest, and when we have returned to our cities and villages and rejoined our daily routines, let us search for his strength. Let us search for his largeness of spirit somewhere inside of ourselves. And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on our hearts, when our best-laid plans seem beyond our reach, let us think of Madiba and the words that brought him comfort within the four walls of his cell: “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”
What a magnificent soul it was. We will miss him deeply. May God bless the memory of Nelson Mandela. May God bless the people of South Africa.
Source: http://www.washingtonpost.com