This morning I stumbled on comments under a song I have had on repeat for close to a week. S’fico Ncwane’s “Hallelujah” song has held me spellbound for days. I keep repeating this song. I hardly understand a quarter of the words but there is just something about the song.
It almost sounds like what I think heaven will sound like.
Then I looked at the comments and saw the messages. S’fico had died in 2016. I am listening to his song in 2018 and feeling this deep yearning for something more. I start to ask questions.
“What would be my legacy?”
Would it matter that I lived? S’fico was just 37. A few days ago, I remembered Jesus was just 33. This same questions came to my heart, “would it matter?”
Right now my heart is burdened because I do not understand why our lives are shortened. Who decides when our mission is done?
I read a lot of things about S’fico. He has a trail of scandals; family, health and obviously he had not had a smooth one going with love. He was just as human as I am.
This troubles me more. That such a broken vessel could still draw on inspiration so deep and pure. It almost sounds to me like he heard a fraction of heaven’s voices. How possible is this?
Would he meet God? Is it enough that he did his best while he lived? Do we all share in this undeserved righteousness? Or do we have to argue our case at the gates of death; entrance to eternity?
The only thing I can figure is that as weak as I am, I have no excuse not to live a life that counts.
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