IT CAME AS A BULL… SO I TOOK IT BY ITS HORNS

Let me start by saying this: One of your best tools as a Christian is to recognize a battle, not pat the devil on the head, and instead, FIGHT… 

I’m glad I did. 

Violence is really the only language the devil speaks

Well, so, you remember I told you about Isaac and I and how I was able to resist temptation that came through him on Valentine ’s Day? 

OK, yeah, this is a follow up story. 

Before I continue, just so you’d know, Isaac has not said a word to me in over a month. He’s mad as hell at me. And even though, a part of me is greatly concerned, the whole of me is happy that I did the right thing.

First, a recap… Remember, I told you he came to my house on Valentine’s day, and tried to get me to make out with him, and that I sent him out of my house, and we agreed, on the next day, never to meet in private places again. 

Okay… 

Anyway, about a week after, on Wednesday, Isaac showed up in my house again when I was alone.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered as I went in to get the key to open the door for him. “What part of do not come to my house when I’m alone does the boy not understand? Ehn? Satan is really using this boy and he’s letting Satan.”

I got the key from my room, and walked to the anteroom; paused for about five seconds, but went on to open the door for him really slooowly. I was hoping he’d disappear from my driveway before I get around to opening the burglary protector for him.

“This boy does not understand the meaning of ‘taking- it-slow’ ni?” I hissed again.

I finally opened the door, and welcomed him in. 

Unlike Val’s day, no hugs today.  Today, the flesh was weak, and the spirit willing. Alleluia!!!

Not long after, Isaac started his moves on me again. I made good and successful efforts to deter him and push him away. He stayed away when I waved him off, but kept on trying. 

“Boy, is Satan stubborn!” Phew!

After a while, when he wouldn’t stop, I tried to reason with him. I told him it made me feel uncomfortable, and guilty. He replied and said I had better get used to it. 

“What? What did I just hear?” 

Pssh, reason with the devil, and he gives you many more counter-reasons, including those of why he was rightfully thrown out of heaven. 

Rubbish!

One week after throwing him out of my house on Valentine’s, it was easier to repeat same without much guilt. I opened the door, walked on towards the burglary protector, and said “Isaac, it’s time to leave my house”.

“Tumini, really? So you’re sending me out of your house for the second time in a week?”

“Well, that’s not how I see it; but I really think you should leave now.”

He left. That was Wednesday.

On Thursday, he came to my workplace, and told me of how he thinks we should take things slowly.

“Haha, duh, isn’t that what I’ve been trying to say all this while?” I thought.

“Okay” was all I could give as my reply. I was being sarcastic. He didn’t notice.

“Ahan, Tumini, is that all you have to say?”

“Okay, Isaac, I’ve heard you.”

He wasn’t satisfied, but he let it slide.

If only he knew what was going on in my mind. [You’ll soon see why all I said was “okay”].

On Friday, Isaac, still not satisfied with my response to his previous day’s request (or should I say, ‘previous day’s babblings’), decided that he was going to come to my house to see me after I got back from work. I had a church meeting that night, and I knew I couldn’t stay home for long, but still asked him to come anyway. My brother was back from school then, and I thought, “You know, the house is safe”… 

Again, how wrong!

When I got home on that Friday, I quickly checked my email, and unfortunately received two emails from two different sources with two different bad news both related to my career. I was devastated. 

I was in the bedroom and when Isaac came, he came to the bedroom to see me, cos my brother told him I was there. I was crying and so he hugged me. It was alright, no evil intended, I believed. 

I left the bedroom for a couple of minutes and then went back. Isaac was still there.

I met him with his arms open, and I just went right in. This time the hug came with a squeeze. I tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let go. And what else did I notice?

Isaac was actually getting you-know?-uhun-that’s-right. His arms were stronger, his grip tighter, and he tried to kiss me. It was then I finally succeeded in pushing him away.

Of course, he knew he had to leave, and leave he did. 

I got ready for my church meeting, and on the way had a conversation with God and myself. I had spent weeks deciding between Isaac’s feelings and my holy undefiled relationship with God; and so far, I somehow chose the former. I lied about my feelings to him to try to protect him. And for that, I am sorry.

[Okay, don’t get me wrong. I actually did feel something strong for him; but I knew for certain that it was superficial. I knew that in time, it’d fade off. I just kinda hoped it’ll become real in no time. I really did hope. Isaac didn’t help.

You see, sin never makes anything right. It never makes anything last. It just doesn’t. Sin steals trust, it kills hope and it destroys destinies. Anything built on sin will crumble.]

Today, it is over. I choose God. I choose life. I choose holiness. I choose freedom. 

I just now needed a way, a place, a good time to tell Isaac to back off in a different way. Definitely, not in the pat-the-devil-on-the-head kinda way I’d been doing. 

This is war. In war, you fight. 

It finally happened in church just before the service started. 

Isaac insisted he wanted us to sit together, and after much persuasion, I agreed. It was a really really big Christian gathering, so I could talk easily, even raise my voice a little without other people paying attention. 

I won’t go into details, but I told him what I had to say. I tried to be polite, and I tried to be reasonable, but I didn’t try to mince words, and I didn’t try to keep my voice down. 

Isaac got mad. Raving mad. I didn’t know how angry he was until two days after. 

Until two days after, he didn’t say anything to me. But after those two days, Isaac kept on calling me to yell at me and call me names. He did his last when I hung up on him twice on a particular day. 

I was sad. Really sad. Our closeness began because of our individual hunger for the knowledge of the Word of God. It, ending this way, wasn’t cool at all. 

Despite the sadness, I was super duper glad. I saw the devil face-to-face, grabbed him by his horns, pushed him to the ground, and then took his evil fork and stabbed him in the belly with it. He didn’t die. It’s not time yet. But next time, he will know that Tumini of yesteryears is gone.

This one (through Jesus) recognizes war, fights, and wins!