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Ken is a member of the local Baptist Church. He grew up an ardent member, following laid down creeds to the latter. His decision not to give himself up for blood donation during his grade six stemmed from this belief. After four years in this part of town, Ken's family leaves on transfer to a different region. Here, he meets new friends and encounters new realities, one of which is the weather. It didn't feel as warm as the area they'd move out of and this leaves him downcast. It is a Sunday morning, and the household gets up as early as 5:30 as is a norm for the family. Once Mercy realizes Ken's absence all morning, she calls out. ‘Mom, I can't see Ken. He hasn't been up all morning'. His mom, who hasn't notice her son's absence, takes the initiative and rushes down to his room. As Ken leaves the door ajar, she gains entrance without resistance. ‘Ken darling, it's morning, and God's waiting for us in church'. She calls out and waits for a response. Ken didn't respond. She thinks he had a busy night and thus slept late, so she calls out again, and moves closer to his bed. He didn't move a limb. ‘Ken! Ken!!' She bends over to his bed, shakes him with haste, and waits. Now Ken, who remains unresponsive all the while, drops a limb and thereafter, stretches his body as though he had a terrible dream where chains held his body to submission. His mom touches his neck and withdraws her hand. ‘Young man, you're burning up. Your temperature is high'. She reaches for his forehead and her reaction is like the first time; almost like his forehead was hotter than his neck. ‘Haven't you been taking your drugs?' She queries. ‘Oh, mom... I hate drugs and you know it. I tell you one thing, I'll heal without drugs.' Ken says, albeit unconsciously blowing his cover. ‘So what happened to all the drugs I got you?'. Ken keeps mute. His mom waits, and when he didn't say a word, her temperament goes sour. ‘I've told you taking drugs does not make you weak. It's one medium God uses to perfect His healing in our lives. Drugs don't carry out all the healing process but our faith in God to heal us through drugs does.' She says, sensing what she always thought Ken knew. She moves over to the side of the bed connecting the fan to the wall and turns it off. The window overlooking his bed too is open, so she reaches for it. Then, her hand knocks something down and she turns to see what she touched. “Ken! Do you mean to tell me you've not been taking your drugs? Why are tablets littered here?” She draws the curtain up and to her amazement, she sees dozens of pills spread across the floor by the bedside. ‘Mom, I'm sorry but I hate drugs.' Ken, now wearing a conspicuous look, says with little trouble. His mother helps him up and made him sit on a chair. She approaches the bed, carries the foam up so she could see what lay beneath the bed. Tablets and capsules of many colors laid wasted here and with this realization, she angrily drops the foam, storms out of the room, and calls out to her husband on her way. ‘You can't imagine how many tablets of drugs we've ever bought I just discovered under Ken's bed. This boy wants to die and leave me without a son.' She laments and as he is about to respond, Ken walks in with remorseful tears covering his face. He goes straight down on his knees and prays that his parents pardon his ignorance. ‘Ken, I can't understand why you did what you did but in all seriousness, not swallowing your prescribed pills is wrong. Let us in on why you chose the floor instead of your belly as the resting place for over thirty-eight tablets of drugs?' His dad queries, not minding the threat the event poses to their being in church on time. ‘Some people sought to open my eyes to how Jesus Christ healed people without drugs. They alluded such healings to faith. I thought they made a point, so I reasoned I might as well not need drugs to heal. Each time I fell ill, and you and mom got me drugs, I'd say to myself, Ken, you sure don't need these things. Your faith is enough.' Ken says, while his parents listen with a rapt audience. ‘Son, believe me when I tell you it's not wrong for a Christian to want to exercise their faith. It's the greatest feeling of being a Christian, but then, the Scripture tells us that faith without work is useless. If you'd faithfully taken these drugs and also understand that it is God that uses any medium to heal His children, then you'd have felt better a long time ago.' His dad dishes out corrections from which Ken's face grows woeful. He becomes conscious of his failure since his presumptive faith didn't help him get better. ‘I promise to do the right things and at the right time too, dad. I've messed up, but I quit being ignorant from today henceforth. Mom, Dad, please forgive me.' As he sits on the floor still, his dad lays his hands on him and prays for him. ‘Mercy, get some food for your brother and while coming, also get me the drugs bag from my room.' His mom instructs Mercy.
So yet another one! This time there is nothing certain in my mind. So this post can be a bit disconnected and I may switch contexts arbitrarily at times. Pardon me for that! Everything is ordinary this time of the year. College has started, everybody is busy with practicals, tutorials, professor projects, and what not. But I am a bit different(or at least I feel it). A question has been troubling me since I have gained maturity in life. But before getting to that question let me just show you the two opinions that exist in today's world. First one is a popular one. Pursue the field you are passionate about. Hmm, let me think what if someone doesn't know what he is passionate about? Then keep looking for it, right? My father is in great opposition to that theory, which brings me to the second kind of ideology that world has. There is nothing like passion in this world. If you work hard in any field and get a bit of success there you start liking it and that becomes your passion. Ah, a contradiction!! So, which one of these is right then? Actually that is the question I have been pondering for a while now(see I told you I am a bit different). Now a 19 year old thinking on a question like that, maybe is thought insane or probably going in the wrong direction. But here I am all puzzled. Searching on web you would get more positive views on the first argument that there is something like passion in this world. But my father isn't wrong as well. As he has lived his life the other way and I adore him for the person he is. After a lot of thinking I finally arrived at a conclusion that actually these things aren't contradictory. All depends on the mindset of the person. If you think you don't have a passion, it's just something you work upon and you become good at it.. so be it. And if you think that there is a special something for everyone then you are gonna get it sometime in your life out of nowhere. You just strongly have to believe it. Well what kind are you? It's something you have to figure out. But make sure to pick one and BELIEVE !!