Skip to main content

Push Someone

Image
By
Yeah, the title sounds weird. But yeah, push someone. Good morning beautiful people. Hope your night was splendid because mine was superb. So yesterday, I went to church for Night of Worship and something remarkable happened just as I stepped out of the church compound. The addictive me was pressing her phone, chatting obviously. I was bumping into people but I kept saying 'Sorry' each time that happened. I was, in a way subconscious of the little 'drains/ditches' up ahead. I was fixated on my phone, like there was something I would get out of the chat. Just when I thought I had had it all for the night, a lady pushed me. It was not like she bumped into me from the side or anything. She pushed me with her open palm. I was not angry at first because I thought she was 'one of those people' you meet on the street. I looked up ahead and there was a hole in the ground which I would have fallen into had she not pushed me. I looked at her and said, 'Thank you'. Of course I didn't feel stupid because i did not insult her when she pushed me, neither did I make faces at her. It all happened in a flash. Had she not pushed me, I would have fallen into that hole and I would be the laughing stock of everybody.
What am I saying? There is someone around you who needs a little push from you. Some words of encouragement could take someone to heights he or she might never have ever imagined. Push has been 'defined' as
Pray
Until
Something
Happens

I'll put it as  Pray until something happens to someone. Your journey in life is not complete until you affect someone, positively.
I don't know who that Lady is, wish I did. But my heart will forever bless and be grateful to her.
Push Someone, you're helping yourself indirectly.
Have a blessed day ahead!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Friend,

By
On this day last year, I wrote about the buildup of events that led to my dad’s passing. I also said that day started the most chaotic year of my life. I didn’t lie. Today, on the second anniversary of his death, I thought to write to you about grief and how I have dealt with it because, in truth, grief does not leave you; it just gets better. Over the past year, across my social media platforms, I talked a lot about how his death triggered emotions in me that I didn't know existed—new descents into the deep, new levels of highs—anything to get into my emotions or consciously get out of the physically overwhelming feeling that was like a weighted blanket most days. Because I lived quite far from home—up north, to be exact—my guardians broke the news to me at the crack of dawn that Tuesday, and I was broken, as anyone who hears bad news is. I was stumped mostly, but yeah, I was broken. The first person I called was my mom, and on answering the phone, she started to say my oriki , w...
2 comments
Read more

'It has pleased God to call your Dad home'

By
                                                              Photo by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash 'It has pleased God to call your Dad home'. I went cold. My arms and feet. January 22nd, 2021 I was on my way home from work when my brother called. He asked for our family -read government- hospital card number. It was a very odd question because my dad had retired -as a civil worker- and we no longer used the card for consultation. In fact, we had been told on several occasions that they had taken his card 'off the shelf'. Besides my brother had his own card at the same hospital, being a government staff. So the question was very weird on all fronts.  I told him I could not remember the exact number but gave him two or three numbers that came to my head at that time. I asked what the problem was and he s...
Post a Comment
Read more

2018- So Much For A New Year

By
December 31st, 2017. The time is 10:15. My Mum, brother and I are waiting for a couple of minutes to pass by before going to the church just beside my house for the annual cross over service into 2018. My Mum’s phone rings. I pick it up and see that it’s my Aunty. ‘Oh she has even called several times. How didn’t we hear?’ I muttered to myself in Yoruba, my native language. I hurriedly make my way to my Mum’s room to give the phone to her. ‘Mummy’, I say softly a couple of times before giving her the phone. ‘Mummy Branco n pe yin ’ Mummy Branco is calling you. Mummy Branco is what we call my Aunty by. Most people know her as my second Mummy, which is very correct.  I watch as my Mum answers the call, definitely still sleepy. Her voice and eyes would clear in seconds when I hear her say ‘Ehn!’ in a high pitch. I definitely knew something was wrong. She hurriedly hangs up and shouts that my Aunty’s husband is in the hospital and on life support and we had to leave immediately. I...
Post a Comment
Read more