By Ikechukwu Onyekwelu
One of my favourite lines from the Credo – that solemn declaration of faith Catholics recite with all the seriousness of a banker auditing your account – is in French:
“Je crois en Dieu qui chante et qui fait chanter la vie.” It means: “I believe in God who sings, and who makes life sing.”
Now, for non-Catholics, let me explain: the Credo is essentially a spiritual résumé of what you believe – your professional summary for Heaven’s HR department.
But here’s the twist: mine doesn’t just say God creates, saves, and judges. It says He sings. And when He sings, life itself finds a melody.
Growing up in Gboko, some of my most cherished memories are tied to songs. I suspect yours are too.
And Sundays, ah, Sundays were my favourite. Not because of solemn church hymns alone, but because it was the one day every member of the family was together.
We ate rice and stew, and if times were good, a hen or two found its way to the pot. Tradition dictated that the head of the chicken was mine. Don’t ask me why I loved that strange prize. I just did.
Later, when I came of age, the honour (or horror) of slaughtering the fowl became mine.
These days, I confess: I can hardly do it. Thankfully, entrepreneurial poultry sellers now spare us the drama for a small processing fee. Capitalism with compassion!
As an adult, Sundays still hold their magic – but now, they are for reflection. For pondering life’s mysteries.
And I have come to see mystery as volatility. Like the stock market on a caffeine rush, mystery defies prediction.
You can’t pin it down. Yet, when you anticipate it, embrace it, and even welcome it, volatility becomes less of a monster and more of a friend.
Take Lagos traffic, for instance. If you expect it to be smooth every Monday morning, you’ll curse your stars. But if you accept volatility as your co-passenger, you’ll pack an audiobook, sip your water calmly, and watch the chaos like a free Nollywood show.
So here’s my reflection today:
God is in the details, yes. But He’s also in the volatility. In the unplanned detour. In the mystery you can’t wrap your head around.
And just like a song, life’s rhythm is not made of one long note – it needs highs and lows, silence and sound.
So, as you pray today, don’t resist the mystery.
Don’t fight the volatility.
Open yourself to it.
Welcome it. Because the God who sings is still composing, and when you let Him, even your chaos will find its harmony.
And maybe, just maybe, He’ll make life sing through you, too.
