The happiest days of my life was when I was a little boy in Nigeria, sneaking out of the house to find a good soccer game in the slums closest to the secure and gated community I resided in. Completely oblivious to the dangers that loomed all around me, I sometimes skipped clumsily and dangerously close to busy streets blessed with temperamental drivers. I was a forward thinker those days, as my whole being ached forward for nothing more than the thrill of a good soccer game with the slum kids. Oh what pure ecstasy I felt, when I succeeded in cursing, kicking, begging or conniving my way into a pick up game.
On the way back home, I was tired, hungry, thirsty, bloodied, dirty, (insert unpleasant adjective here), but HAPPY. You couldn’t pay me enough money to wipe the smile off my face or heart. The feeling was well worth the impending spanking to be delivered at home by the greatest spank team of all time…my parents.
I miss those days of carefreeness and blissful ignorance! I’ve seen and experienced too much in life to come close to that state of childlike being anymore. The irony of it all is that then, I couldn’t wait to grow up. Maybe that’s why unless we are like children, we cannot see the kingdom of God.
Just random thoughts on my flight to Madison WI.