It is often said that it takes a village to raise a child. This statement speaks to the collective efforts of many to make a positive impact. Mentorship offers strategic opportunities to guide and support the personal and professional development of a young person. Its true impact can be multifaceted. In observance of Father’s Day, we have the privilege of sharing the following reflective ‘thank-you’ letter which was penned to Bishop Dr. Murtland Massiah from one of his former mentees.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..….
Dear Bishop Dr. Massiah,
It was 1995, Shaggy’s ‘Bombastic’ was bombarding the airwaves, ‘Windows 95’ was the tech rave and everywhere in Georgetown, excited Guyanese were offering man-in-the-street commentary on the Australia Vs. West Indies series.
But I, reticent and lost in every sense, walked through the plexiglass doors of the church that would become my home. I was a teenager in search of an encounter, thirsty for the sense of belonging that had escaped me since the implosion of my parents’ marriage.
You were the first to recognise that beneath the layers of shyness and timidity, was a young lady full of untapped potential and gifts. You spoke it immediately and likewise, I dismissed it summarily. You saw in me possibilities that I truly never knew were there. For a long time, I simply could not see what you saw but you continually spoke greatness over me. You spoke to my feelings of inadequacy and taught me to dream, to aspire and that in its proper perspective, God would accomplish anything my mind could conceive, and my heart could desire.
Gradually, I began to believe you and began to dream of a life outside of my socio-economic limitations. I began to step confidently in the direction of my imaginings. When I half-heartedly attended Critchlow Labour College and managed to pass with credit, you were not surprised. You waved your finger at me and noted “I do not back losers, you are no loser”. Those words still echo in my ear. When I decided to attend The University of Guyana, (a herculean feat in itself), you patiently guided me through the process while you dug into your personal resources to secure my academic tenure. A jaunty university journey, fraught with countless missteps ensued but your patience remained steadfast as I found my way.
Much like Paul at the feet of Gamaliel, it is your spiritual tutelage that is most indelible on my life and for which I am most grateful. I sat at your feet eager to learn as you taught us Scripture, expounding on, and explaining the Word of God with clarity and relevance. Through your careful exegesis, I grew to not only love the Scriptures but most importantly, the God of the Scriptures. You taught me to love prayer and to seek the heart of God over the hand of God.
My mentor, this surrogate father of mine, you taught me the premium God places on the family construct. You often shared with us that after every overseas assignment, you insisted on being on the first flight home, that you loved home and cherished your family. I saw and noted the alacrity with which you ran home. At seventeen, it was a novel concept; the synonymy of ‘home’ and ‘peace’. I learned that home, like a garden when tended and watered produces a canopy of tranquility and reprieve. You taught us that home should not be where the fight happens, but where weary fighters retreat for sanctuary and refreshing. I tucked away those precious nuggets like a patient miner hiding his priceless stones until the market is optimal.
Naturally, when the time came to choose a husband (because ultimately, it is the woman who considers and decides), my approach was meticulous. Spirituality accounted for, I wanted someone with a deep affinity for family and with whom I could peaceably enjoy the grace of God. Because of your example, I was intentional with my choice and The Lord has been faithful.
On the less spiritual side, I equally soaked up every anecdote and stored away each wisdomed pearl. Though Ruth and I giggled at your sometimes imperfect grammar, your vocabulary was extensive, and I constantly borrowed from its repertoire.
Our relationship was never contentious and always without foibles because I was always so very grateful that you cared enough to encourage me. Yet, there were several times during the early years when I did not get life right. I wasted much of your time and ignored much of your sage counsel, but your empathy was remarkable. You never wearied (never showed it anyway). You pardoned my failings and youthful folly like a good parent, and without missing a beat encouraged me again like a good coach.
It has been twenty-seven years since I walked through those church doors and into your life. I owe much of who I am and what I have accomplished to your mentorship. You have walked with me and have embraced me through the most challenging season of my life. Celebrating always, the milestones you were certain I would attain.
I am confident that without your mentorship, an aimless life of drifting and shifting priorities would have been my portion. It is your firm, yet balanced guidance that led to the unearthing of my potential and the exploring of my dreams. Despite the passage of time and the divide of distance, you will always remain (and rightly so) an invaluable pillar in my life. There is no Minister Adeola Pinder today without a nervous Adeola Jackson being mentored by your fatherly heart. I am better, I am wiser and I am stronger because you have helped to make it so.
Sincerely,
Adeola.
