God’s Loudest Scream Came in a Silent Dream

I dreamt of Hajara. She wasn’t pregnant, even in my dream, and she made sure I saw her new engagement ring. She was getting married to another man.

I also saw mangoes; the last thing I remembered before waking up was trying to pluck them, succeeding only when I used a plastic bottle with a hole in the side.

Hajara loved mangoes, but it was only after she left me that I started paying attention to the things she wanted—the unspoken things, the times she wanted a child, and mangoes.

But it’s too late now.

My wife of three unhappy years divorced me and is marrying another man.

We never had children because I couldn’t give her one.

Things happened to me as a youth. I was from a believing home but struggled to live up to my family’s high standards. I fell away soon after getting admission into the university.

I never partied, smoked, or took hard drugs. On the contrary, I was cool-headed, still went to church, was an executive in my fellowship, lifted holy hands, and served the Lord. But it was all a façade. I would tell people to live a holy life, but I doubted that very life myself.

How could one do all these things on the outside but be nothing but a sepulchre of dry bones inside?

Deep down, I had departed from the faith.

I had one careless night with a lady from fellowship. I never knew she had STDs and transmitted them to me.

Trust me, I was fine, and it happened only once. Nothing changed, and I continued my life.

Years later, I met and married Hajara, still in my confused state about who Christ was. There, the truth emerged. The disease, untreated, had eaten deep into my system. I was declared sterile, and then I thought of Susan from school.

Hajara only stayed with me for as long as she could bear. She walked out as soon as she found a good opportunity.

Dreams meant nothing to me, but this one broke me.

I had lost everything.

I even had nothing in the first place.

Still on my bed, wallowing in self-pity, my mom’s favourite scripture came to me: “His Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are God’s beloved children – Rom 8:16.”

I’d never had any witness in my spirit. Never heard from God and never felt anything.

“Did you allow yourself to be loved and then God turned you away?“

I heard inside me.

I started yelling, ignoring the tears that rushed to my eyes and the hot sensation in my chest that was almost choking me.

“How do I allow myself to be loved? Of course, I’ve been here, I’ve always been here on earth. He should have reached out to me if He loved me enough. He was there when I lost my wife, He was there when I was pronounced sterile and—” I stopped.

God never leaves us. He is always there and very much around.

He was there when I slept with Susan when I gave myself to the pleasure of sin and then took back its wages. I imagined Him screaming to stop me, “Hey son, she’s got STDs!“

But would I have listened? Could I even hear Him?

The tears streamed down my face now.

“You never surrendered to God to be loved. You never surrendered to the ultimate power of His Spirit. You never tasted the life of Christ which He released when He resurrected.“

I heard again.

I thought about the many times we woke up at home for devotion, the many times I spent in Sunday school and youth fellowship, and the many times I participated in student fellowship and outreaches. I knew I was deceiving myself. I never really surrendered.

That didn’t keep God away still. He was hot on my heels to see that I got it right with Him first.

“Lord, I don’t know what it means to be given to you, but help me, please help me. I’ve never known any man who asked you for help and you abandoned such a life. Please help me.”

And so it took a dream to make me do a quick rundown of my life in minutes. I saw God clearly for the first time in my life, and what a beautiful sight it was to behold!

Love will never be silent. Love will always scream out, even if it means coming through any subtle manner it knows. Love can never be kept hidden; it would seep out to that very soul that needs it. Love is God.

READ ALSO: How a Teacher’s Faith Helped a Disabled Student Walk

About Author

Maryann Ijeoma Nwokoye

Maryann Ijeoma Nwokoye is a creative writer, storyteller and development communicator. She is particular about using her skill in communication to see that this world becomes a better place and for men to turn their spears into ploughshares.

Beyond writing and storytelling, she is enthusiastic about human development. She has also managed programs for Non-governmental organizations that are focused on human development through technology and entrepreneurship.

She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Mass Communication and a Master’s degree in Applied Communication (In View) with a core interest in technology and development communication.

ALSO READ  The Art and Science of Technical Writing

See author's posts