The Greatest Love Of All

I watched as the metal door swung loudly to the right and the man in a black suit emerged. He was dressed in a finer suit. Maybe even more expensive. Not like the ones I had seen on the other pastors, or even on him. He was holding his big Bible. The Amplified Version. Looking closely, I realized many details I hadn’t noticed before.

Maybe it’s ’cause I’m getting executed this week. Everything seems important right now.

“Looks like you still want to try your luck this afternoon. I’ll tell you though, you are only wasting your time, pastor. You should spend it on a more valuable soul. Who knows? That one might actually be willing to repent. Not me though, you are only wasting your time here.”

I watched the pastor take off his jacket and adjust his waist coat. The useless ceiling fan continued to spread hot air across the room. It had rained all morning but it was also a useless rain that didn’t carry any wind. Everything felt useless to me. There was no point to it all anyway. I was going to get killed in a few days.

“Ifunaya, how are you today?”

“You know, you are a very funny man. You always ask me how I’m doing whenever you come around as if you are visiting a spa or something. I’m a death row inmate, Pastor Paul. How do you expect me to feel please?”

They always asked the dumbest questions. The worst are those newbies that are just visiting for the first time. They always end up stuttering and acting all awkward and stupid. Asking me questions like “how’s the weather over here?”

Yes, I get to go out on leisurely walks and watch the pretty butterflies perch from one flower to the other.

I didn’t even know why they bothered to come. They only made me feel worse with their awkward stares and stiff body language.

And they always reminded me of everything that was taken away from me; my freedom, my future, and soon enough, my life.

At the very least, I preferred Pastor Paul. He didn’t ask me stupid questions or act awkward around me. He must have had a lot of experience with prison evangelism.

Pastor Paul cleared his throat. He looked like he was ready to give me a response to my earlier lashing.

“Being a death row inmate doesn’t change the fact that there are days you’ll be healthy, and days you’ll be sick. There might also be days you’ll be happy and days you’ll be sad. That is why I ask how you are doing.”

“Days I’ll be happy? Are you kidding me, pastor? You really think I can experience happiness in this hell?!”

He laughed. He actually laughed. This supposed man of God in front of me just laughed at my predicament.

“No offense but this is no hell compared to the real deal, dear. And to your other question, yes. Yes, you can experience happiness in a place like this. Happiness is a choice. You choose it.”

I couldn’t believe it. There he was in his fancy suit, with his butterfly bow tie and lapel, telling me about how happiness was a choice. In the next sixty minutes, he was going to leave me here for his beautiful family, and watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S with his wife in his air conditioned living room.

He had no right! None at all!

“You know what? I’m done. I’m not going to sit through another second of this shit!”

I banged my table twice so the guard outside would know that I was ready to leave and open the door. I heard the key click in and turn. It was time to leave.

I walked past the pastor, but I felt a warm hand hold me back.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was thoughtless of me. Please, sit. Let’s start over.”

Eyeing his grey waistcoat from the corner of my eye, I decided to give him a second chance.

After all, what do I stand to lose? I’m going back into solitary confinement, which means this might be my last real conversation before I die. I might as well make it count.

“I came to talk to you today about a very interesting topic. Are you a fan of love stories?”

He stared at me with hopeful eyes. He must have been saying desperate prayers to his God so that I would respond in the affirmative. I wanted to pity him too. He had tried really hard to get to his current point. Other preachers gave up on me after the third visit, and I couldn’t blame them.

I wouldn’t preach to me even if I was getting paid.

“When I still felt like I had my whole life ahead of me? Yeah. I had enough time to worry about the love life of two fictional characters. Why? How does that relate to your preaching?”

“In every way, my dear. The story between you and Jesus is a captivating love story. It is the story about the greatest love of all.”

“Me? In a love story? With a dead man? Well, this sounds very interesting indeed. Tell me more.”

Pastor Paul coughed and shifted in his iron chair. It must have hurt to sit there when he probably had the softest couch in his house waiting for him. One had to wonder what was motivating the man to do all that he was doing.

“Your love story is more popularly known as The Beautiful Exchange, but I like to call it The Greatest Love Of All.

It is a three day love journey that started with Jesus’s trial and ended with Jesus’s resurrection. It is the story about Jesus’s undying love for you. One in which He battled demons and fought with death himself. All for you, Ifunaya.

So, listen because I am about to reveal someone’s love story to you.”

The greatest love of all? The fuck is that? My first and greatest love was one bone head named Toluwani and it wasn’t even that special. I just had a crush on him for twelve years. Yet, this man is here trying to tell me that some dead man fought death for me?!

“The greatest love of all, uhn? Well this ought to be good. I’m listening, pastor.”

“I’m not going to bore you with the story of how he was betrayed by one of His own, or how Peter shit the bed by denying Him thrice in public, or how the same people He healed and raised from the dead chose to release a notorious armed robber to have Him killed. Nah, I’ll go straight into the main gist.”

“The main gist? And what would that be?”

He suddenly had a knowing smile. It was a smile that said a lot of things. It was obvious that whatever he was going to say next was something birthed from a wealth of experience. I pricked my ears at attention but kept a disinterested face on. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to miss a word of it.

“The unconditionality of the love of Jesus.”

He waited to watch my reaction as his words seeped into my subconscious. It felt like he wanted every single word to settle in before he continued.

“Jesus’s love was without sense or reason. I mean, why would anyone put on a crown of thorns, have metal eat deep into their flesh then gouged out, or carry a cross that weighs around 136 kilograms for 600 metres? I’m talking about 2000 feet of distance here. All for a generation of liars, murderers and backstabbers…”

“…It makes no sense!”

Another smile.

“Exactly my point. Jesus’s love for humanity is the most reckless kind I’ve ever seen, and do you know the most amazing part about the whole thing?”

I eyed him suspiciously. He was good. He had somehow gotten me hooked in his preaching. Although it felt more like a gist than a sermon.

If only other preachers were this fun and engaging, they would have gotten more members in their churches and probably won more souls in this prison.

I wonder what could be more amazing than everything he just said though. I used to hear the Sisters talk about Jesus a lot, but I never knew He was this awesome. If only I didn’t ditch Mass so often.

“His love is from everlasting to everlasting. His one act of love can and is serving thousands of generations. He might have died over two thousand years ago but even two thousand years from now, if He tarries, humanity will still experience the love of Jesus.”

I found myself thinking deeply. All my life I had always felt like I was a loveless child. I was a love child that knew no love. I heard from the sisters in the orphanage my parents abandoned me that they had been a young couple.

They were too in love to abort me, but when I eventually came, they didn’t have the resources to care for me. They said they caught them dropping me in front of the door step with tears in their eyes. Mother had stood behind the curtains watching and hearing everything silently. After they left, she took me in.

“You know, I’ve lived my entire life believing that I could never be loved. My parents abandoned me as an infant. Everyday, I would watch kids my age walking down the road with their parents after school. They would stop by the front of our orphanage to buy them snacks in a bid to donate to the less privileged children like me so we could survive. It always irked me.”

“I can only imagine. Growing up must have been so tough.”

“You are right about that. My parents didn’t even name me. It was our Mother that named me Ifunaya. I still wonder why she did it. She must have found the irony very amusing at the time, because why would she call me Love?!”

“I don’t know why she did it but I doubt she considered you a joke. A child is never a joke.”

“Well, I grew up feeling cheated out of all the good things in life. It’s why I swore to steal it all back. Before I knew it, I was hanging out with hoodlums. We started as pick pockets but we eventually became full blown thieves. It was on one of our expeditions that I mistakenly hit a woman on the head while she was resisting. I didn’t think she would die from the hit. I got arrested and was placed on death row after the court proceedings.”

I watched as Pastor Paul drank in all my information with rapt attention. No one had ever taken me that seriously in my entire life.

What is it about this man of God? Why is he so interested in me? I am nothing. A nobody. Yet, here he is telling me how specially loved I am, listening to my woeful tales of abandonment as if I actually mattered.

“Why are you doing this, sir? Why are you so interested in me?

He chuckled softly.

“Sir? Well that’s definitely a change. I’m interested in you because Jesus is interested in you, dear. He always has, and He always will be. He sent me here to get you and I can’t ignore the errand my Love has given me.”

“He sent you to get me? Get me where? He’s interested in me? He’s your Love too?”

I was so confused.

“Too? I see you are starting to personalize Him. I’m so happy to hear that. Yes, He sent me to get you to come back home to Him. We miss you in the family of God. Heaven has mourned your loss for too long, they want you home again. And yes, Jesus is your Love as much as He is mine. He died for us all.”

Too many questions were conjuring in my mind. It was as if every question he answered birthed a new question. I wanted to know it all. I needed to.

“Are you willing to give your life to Christ, Ifunaya? The family of Light is ever ready to welcome you home again. In fact, they are planning a huge party right now in heaven just for you. Sadly, we can’t attend with them yet.”

I laughed. It was my first laugh in years. I didn’t even recognize the sound of it at first.

It took me a few seconds to recognize my own laughter and before I knew it, I started crying. Pastor Paul handed me his handkerchief and started the salvation prayer.

Next thing I knew, I was on the floor and my head went blank. I was still fading into my subconscious when I heard the metal gate fling open. The guard was rushing in to check on me and I could see the shock on Pastor Paul’s face before he suddenly started smiling.

I heard the words, “leave her alone. She’s fine. God is working on something in her right now. Jesus is…”

“Jesus? Why is he mentioning Jesus? What happened to my Love?…”

********

The smell of smoke and burning sulphur was the first sensation I experienced after I came to. It was hot. Very hot. I heard hushed groans and quiet whimpers. It wasn’t loud, but I could feel the torture in the air. I could smell it and I could taste it.

Suddenly, there was a very bright light walking towards me. I was immediately drawn to the light. In this space where all I could feel was despair and anguish, that light seemed to carry hope and help.

I pushed forward in a bid to meet the light, but I suddenly became more aware of my surroundings.

Something was holding me back and it was heavy. Metallic heavy. I pulled harder but I only found myself tasting smoked sand. I didn’t know how smoked sand tasted until that moment, but it was the only explanation my brain could give me at the time.

I noticed the metal bars that were standing tall like a goliath barricade and my heart sank.

There was no escape for me.

I continued to watch as the Light walked forward with grace and power. He seemed to have the authority of the whole world in his fingertips.

Blackened wings flapped in various directions as they tried to approach the Light and withdrew almost immediately.

It looked like they were trying to attack the Light but they couldn’t get close enough to even do anything.

The Light continued to move unperturbed. I had never seen such graceful steps. Watching it alone was enough to calm all my heightened senses and I basked in the glory of its coming. The closer it got, the more I was able to define features. There were no words to describe what I was seeing.

However, when He got to my cell, He simply stretched out His hands and said one word.

The word carried so much power and authority that it felt like He had just spoken to the entire universe, and at the same time, it was as serene as the sound of many waters.

I saw the large gate snap wide open and my soul drifted towards him gently. He was smiling and His smile was as bright as a million suns, but somehow I wasn’t blinded.

There was no explanation for all the things I was experiencing. None of it made logical sense. Scientists could try to prove them all but they would just go insane from frustration.

He held me close to His bosom and whispered ever so slightly.

“My love, I finally have you in My arms again. Nothing will ever be able to separate you from My love again. I promise you that. You are Mine for eternity.”

Immediately, the rags on my body turned into a shiny, transparent robe. My dead skin that was decaying away became golden and shone ever so brightly. In fact, the skin was gone. I… I can’t explain it.

He kissed my forehead and whispered for the last time. Only this time, His words caused tears to rain down my face, but as they fell they started disappearing almost immediately.

“It is finished. I await your return, my love. We’ll be reunited for all eternity. Now, now, don’t cry. Don’t worry, very soon, I shall wipe away all your tears. You cannot be in My embrace and shed a tear. I love you too much to bear it. I couldn’t. Weep not, my love. You are free.”

**************

I was back in the prison cell with Pastor Paul. The dim bulb paled even more in my eyes after the enormous brightness I had just experienced. Pastor Paul was still sitting on his chair but he had his head in his hands and he looked like he was praying.

“I saw him. Jesus. I had a love encounter with Him. He was so much better than you described him, sir.”

Pastor Paul rushed to my side and cradled me like a newborn. Tears burst from his eyes. He must have been worried that I fainted or something.

“Did I die? I heard people sometimes die and go to hell, then come back to tell the world to repent. Was that what I just experienced? Cos mine was a lot more different than what those people described.”

Finally, Pastor Paul stopped crying and started laughing. Well, more like he was doing both.

“No dear, you were still breathing. You looked more like you were in a state of coma. Looks like you fell into a trance of some sort. You said you encountered Jesus? I’m so glad to hear that. If you don’t mind, you can tell me all about it on my next visit. Right now, you need to rest. We’ve had a long day.”

**************

Unfortunately, our next visit never came because I got executed two days later. It was Easter Sunday, ironically. The family of the deceased had insisted that I be executed before their mother’s birthday and it was supposed to be a day after Easter. They were able to win their case in court and my date was pushed forward.

The funny thing was, I never imagined that I would ever look forward to my own execution. All the fear and hatred I felt before had left me after my encounter that day. I was genuinely looking forward to my execution so I could be reunited with my Love. It was unbelievable.

I wore a very lovely dress Pastor Paul had brought for me and given to my warden the day after his visit. He had given the warden the dress to have me wear it on my last day on earth.

I cried when I saw it because it must have cost him tens of thousands. I never knew I was worth that much until that visit.

I wore my dress and combed my hair into a neat ponytail. It was my last day on earth after all, I might as well go out in a bang. The thought of my blood staining the beautiful dress haunted me briefly but I waved it off. Nothing was going to take away my happiness.

I said a short prayer of thanks and looked up to Jesus.

“Unto You, I commit my spirit…”

*All images used in this story were sourced from unsplash.com