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Salbyg and Mercy Meet Saul
by Daniel Owino Ogweno
9/25/2008 / Christian Living
It was towards the end of my turn at the gate of Gloryland. I was ushering in new arrivals, people who have won against the myriad diabolic sabotages by the arch enemy of man.
A group of new arrivals was approaching. I would finish my stint at the gate after receiving them.
Their beaming faces was a joy to watch. Their excitement was extremely contagious. Each group had its very special kind of, as we call them in Gloryland, "sodo-sodo" dance.
A couple at the back of the group seemed to extract unique emotion out of me. I ushered them in and followed behind. They kept on turning to look at me. I realised the affinity was mutual. I increased my pace in order to catch up with them.
"Hallo, my name is Saul", I introduced myself.
"Pleasure to meet you, Saul! I am Salbyg Kende and my wife, or should I say my companion? We're told we don't remain married here, is Mercy Owara", the man responded and then probed, "Where in the world did you live and in what generation?"
"I am not quite sure about that. I actually never lived on earth", I answered.
Puzzled, Mercy repeated, "Never lived on earth! Are you an angel?"
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper on which I wrote a lamentation poem about my abortive life on earth. I handed it to them.
Foetus Unvoiced Appeal Against Abortion
It was a dark day,
A decision had been reached;
An innocent life to slay,
Their priorities not to be breached.
I cried out,
Please let me live,
But how could they hear me shout;
Against my will, I had to leave.
If only I had a voice,
I could have debated my right;
But they made a choice,
Without considering my plight.
If I had hands I could have held firm,
On the walls of the womb;
But my hands were yet to form,
Therefore the womb became my tomb.
My own parents colluded against me,
I had nowhere to turn;
In their life, I wasn't welcome;
Nowhere to turn! O yes, to my Maker I will return.
They read the poem, looked at one another then looked at me, blankly. I could tell that they would have cried but no pain was allowed in Gloryland.
They stared at me with a tell-us-more-about-this look.
God made for me a body but my parents destroyed it few months after conception. The Lord called my soul back to Gloryland and named me Saul.
After a moment, Mercy found courage to ask, "The tone of the poem is chilling, were you bitter for having been denied a chance to live on earth?"
"Bitterness is irrelevant in this place", I answered and added, "Life here is so beautiful that I don't think I missed earth."
I explained that I would have loved to carry out the assignment for which God had wanted me to live on the earth. After I was called back, I was asked to write the poem so that it could be sent back to earth through dreams to some selected parents who in turn were expected to pass it along.
The couple looked at one another once again and looked at me.
Just then, a Seraph appeared and asked us to a company him. He took us to a room and asked us to watch a DVD entitled: "The Life of Saul on Earth".
"But I never lived on earth! Or is it about another Saul?" I asked.
"If you were not aborted, what unfolds in the film is what your life could have been", he answered and left.
At the end of the first segment, a message appeared on the screen: Remain seated for the last segment, coming shortly.
As we waited, Salbyg couldn't help commenting. "I can't believe you could have solved this problem plaguing the world!"
If guilt was allowed in Gloryland, he could have been overwhelmed by guilt as he said this.
"That could have been a wonderful life! Your parents could have been proud", Mercy added.
Like the husband, if guilt was allowed in Gloryland, she could have also been overwhelmed by guilt.
What appeared on the screen next was stunning. It was a 30-seconds flash of: "And now, please meet Saul's parents". With that Salbyg and Mercy appeared on the screen.
No wonder we had a mutual affinity at the first sight. Salbyg and Mercy were my parents.
No wonder they looked at one another when they read the poem I gave them. My was-to-be mother was one of the women whom the poem was sent to through dream. They repented, realising that abortion was a terrible sin against innocent blood.
When the film stopped we all simultaneously fell into triangular hugs in what could have been an outpouring of emotional pain. Nevertheless, pain is irrelevant in Gloryland. When we thought we were crying pain, what manifested was proclamation of praise.
We will never know who and what the lives of these aborted children could have been.
Abortion, to call it what it is, is the modern version of Child Sacrifice masquerading with a euphemism: Pro-Choice. We can only claim to have this choice if our life didn't itself begin in someone else' body. Let us all offer our voice in prayer for the voiceless unborn child; let us speak, with love, against the vice whenever we get the opportunity.
2007 by Daniel Owino Ogweno.
Ogweno is the author of THE SECRET WEAPON AGAINST TERRORISM, VIRTUE THAT COUNTS and A LIFE OF AN ENTHUSIASTIC WORSHIP, among others. http://danielogweno.blogspot.com
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