I am a strong believer in the phrase “God uses people in his time and will”. God does use each one of us, if only, and if only we allow ourselves to be used, if only and if only we listen to a voice deep within it. Most of us are used to dismissing that little voice once too often without even realizing it, until we really realize that it is not just any voice, but its the voice of the Spirit, its the voice of your inner being, its the voice of God. And for some of us if we do start actually listening to that voice, it becomes louder and clearer, and eventually your own voice becomes little in front of that one.
My “voice of God” over the years has grown louder and clearer. After many a faltering I have made peace with the fact the best in me and sometimes those around me too, lies in listening to that voice.
On one such occasion just a few days back, in the sweltering heat of Dar es Salaam I parked my car in town and downloaded my little one from it and decided to walk down for some further work. I really could have just picked up the car again and drove down that little distance, because that is what I generally do if its too hot, but today there was the “voice” telling me to walk down.
“Mama its too hot, why don’t you drive” cribbed V looking up through her trendy sunglasses. I just looked at her through mine, and smiled at her. She’s just like me, I thought.
Just a few steps away from my destination shop, we saw a frail young woman sitting on the roadside. She had a bundle huddled tightly across her chest, and she clung to it as if her whole quiddity belonged in that bundle. I couldn’t help but notice how absolutely dead her eyes were…vacuous, looking towards the sky. My eyes were stuck at her, and her pain kind of magnetically pulled me closer towards her. The magnanimity of her sorrow was so much that she didn’t strain to even sit by the shade of a nearby tree. Her woes probably were worse that the scorching sun!! Oh how painful it must be… I thought
As I inched closer the bundle began to move and below the piece of cloth I saw a tiny leg struggling out. Oh my God….it was a baby. The struggle of the infant were in vain and not worthy enough for the woman to turn her gaze from the sky towards the child. It was as if she was waiting for someone to answer the questions, or better still, her needs to fall out from heaven.
Something pulled at my gut and I thought that maybe she was hungry and the child was too, and I could buy some food and milk from the nearby grocer. Meanwhile, V started pounding me with innocent questions. She is still to learn the nuances of poverty and pain….I thought in my heart.
After my purchase of Milk and Bread I quickly reached the woman and said…”dada, tafhadali kula ee”….she pulled herself out from the heavenly stupor and when she saw the food, a river started flowing from her eyes. It seemed like her heavenly gaze had been favorably returned. Her pain streamed from her eyes, and effortlessly from mine too. “Asante Dada, tafhadali meme na taka pesa”. She needed money. My heart wrenched at the adversity in her voice, and without a thought I took out some cash and quietly put into her hands……thank fullness gushed forth from her eyes in abundance and numbness struck my own soul. Theres so much pain in the world…. I mused as I walked forward.
“Mama why is that Dada crying”…I had no answer. “Is the little baby hungry?” …”Yes Baby, I think it is” I said wiping my eyes.. “Doesnt his mummy have a purse?” ….I couldn’t help but smile at the inculpable functioning of a 4 year old mind , which comprehended that having a purse was enough to buy your hearts desires !!!
As I drove home, I felt used, used by God…… V was unusually quiet during that ride, I am wondering if her little heart was touched by someones tears that day!! I hope so…..