THE KING AND HIS PRIME MINISTER
“I am not a person of Faith so I do not understand the relationship between God and the devil. Yet, I totally grasp your analogy of the King and his Prime Minister. I get that very well” Pippa remarked
“I am glad you do and even if that is the only thing you can hold onto, hold it.” I encouraged
“I guess it makes more sense the way she explains it because no one has ever answered that question for me” Greta responded
“Yes, I can accept that. Although it does not take my pain away, it helps ease the confusion and anger” Pippa again
The trio of us sat on rounded stones in the chilly autumn evening. To our right were towering mountains with countless sheep scattered like tiny dots grazing around them. The aquamarine waters of the Cardigan Bay stretched out in front of us as we sat there enthralled at its peaceful calm.
Wales had been fun so far and today had been a particularly tasking day spent outdoors. The arduous nature of the activities led the organisers to cut short the day and send us back to the hotel. Everyone was advised to find their rhythm and unwind before dinner was served.
Somehow, the three of us decided to take a walk towards the Bay. Then as we sat and got to know ourselves better, the conversation eventually turned to cancer – which was our common ground.
Unlike me, both of them had experienced cancer at closer levels – it ran through both their families and had left body counts. I was still astounded at how much of an illiterate I was as regards cancer. I was like that shielded child who leaves home for the first time to find they have no clue how the world works.
“I have lost so many family members to cancer so I have no idea when it would be my turn” one said
“For me, If I have to live in pain then I would rather die and go” the other responded
While the Nigerian in me found the talks of death disconcerting, the believer in me found it defeatist. I also could not follow their reasoning. I had come out here to enjoy Nature not talk morbidity.
“why are you talking of death, it is an illness and I believe that God has healed me. This process here – I lifted my elbow pointing at the PICC line in my arm – is simply a process. My healing is already happened.
“I do envy your assuredness” Pippa looked at me with sad eyes. I noticed her sad eyes from the first Day. However, I do not have faith and cannot relate to your beliefs. All I feel is anger at how a God who created the world can sit back and allow the devil kill people.
“me too. Confused as to how he does nothing about it” Greta piped in
Their vulnerability and outspokenness about death and God was one of the new things I was learning in this Kingdom I had recently relocated to. As a Nigeria Christian from an overtly religious culture, we have been conditioned to not be accepting of death nor question God. Few rebels like myself who did buck the trend were always cut down with annoying rebukes like ‘we dare not question God’.
Yet, I liked the rawness of this conversation. The toga of grown women had been discarded and these were now hurting little girls confused as to why daddy was not living up to his role.
“so help me God” I breathed inwardly. “Holy spirit give me words”
Thereafter I began the analogy of the King and the Prime Minister: One was a sovereign monarch recognised globally as Head of State but the power of running State affairs sat with the Executive -Prime minister. Even the reigning sovereign recognises the office of the Prime Minister and allows him run his office with minimal intervention. No matter how disagreeable a decision sits with him, he would not counter the PM publicly. The king would have regular check-ins with the PM where he would voice his opinions and there could even be instances where he will use his veto power to rescind a decision already made.
I explained that to my knowledge, God remains supreme and sovereign, however he did not remove the devil’s power from him when he cast him down to rule in the world. So this world is the devil’s terrain even though the Almighty still rules in the affairs of men.
“It is 6:45pm and 15 minutes to dinner” Pippa pointed out
Then in a silence that was louder than the crescendo of the waves, we briskly walked back to the hotel.