The Hedgehog And The Fox

Hello there!

I’ve been so busy over the past couple of weeks, and as such, I’ve not been able to post as frequently as I would have loved. Anyways, I was able to squeeze out some time today to churn out something for your reading pleasure. (N.B: I might sound a lil’ bit ‘rusty’. Please bear with me)

Okay, so I stumbled on an interesting story last year. It was about The Hedgehog and The Fox. A lot of you might even be familiar with the story. I hope you’d get a few deep insights from the short story I’m about to tell:

The fox is a very, very cunning creature. Very powerful. Sleek. And extremely fast-paced.

The hedgehog, on the other hand, is a very weak animal. It’s slow and sluggish. It seems to be content with foraging shrubs in search of sweet plants and maybe small insects.

Now, it must be noted that the fox is carnivorus (i.e, it feeds on other animals, e.g, hedgehogs!).

From the look of things, it seems that the fox has everything going for it.

So, the fox finds the gentle hedgehog searching for food. The hedgehog is totally oblivous to the danger posed by the fox. The fox carries out all its feasibility studies and raw data analysis and feels confident that THIS TIME, it would catch it’s prize.

The fox makes for the prey.

And again, as usual, the hedgehog senses the imminent danger. It shakes its head, wondering why the fox would never learn it’s lesson!

Nonchalantly, the hedgehog activates its defensive mechanism and curls itself into a ball of pins, just as the fox is about to pounce on it.

Needless to say, the fox is flabbergasted, to say the least. It shakes its head, licks its wounds and trots away to its den to restrategize!


The fox is good in so many things, yet it does not get its desired goal. The hedgehog on the other hand is only good in ONE THING. And that ‘one thing’ continually saves its life from the jaws of death.

You might be wondering how this applies to you.

The truth is that it concerns you, even more than you think.

It bores down to ONE word: PURPOSE!

How many foxes do you know? You don’t even have to look so far, because they are all around. They seem to have all the connections in the corridors of power. They might even have loads of money. But that extra ‘something’ is absent in their lives. They feel that they are nearly attaining what they want, but like the fox, they land on a ball of pins!

The hedgehog’s life is simple and uncomplicated. It is an expert in one thing: Forming balls of pins! People with a vision and a sense of purpose are like that too. They might not have connections or affluence, but they are fulfilled.

The question now is: Which would you rather be?


What He Did For You: A Physiologist’s Viewpoint

I felt the need to take some time out just to try and summarize the PHYSICAL implications of what Christ did for you and I over two millenia ago. This goal of this piece isn’t to undermine, but to make you all the more appreciate the spiritual significance of Christ’s death and resurrection.

At the Garden of Gethsemane, Christ’s sweats were as droplets of blood. This is medically referred to as HEMATIDROSIS. It occurs in instances of great emotional distresses, as a result of ruptures of the capillaries of the sweat glands. The condition usually makes the skin very tender, meaning that the physical assaults that Christ would later receive were going to be really painful for Him.

After Christ was arrested for a sham trial, He was smitten on behalf of the High Priest, by an officer. Though, we can’t determine the exact force of the blow, it’s easy to estimate that these early beatings were sufficient to induce MULTIPLE CONTUSION, especially because Christ had earlier gone through a phase of HEMATIDROSIS.

Between the Lord’s Supper and the end of the Roman trial, Christ endured great emotional stress compounded by His disciples absconding and a beating after the Jewish trial. He was forced to walk for almost 3 miles to the various trial sites. Besides, Christ must have slept little (if at all) and all these factors were going to make Him particularly vulnerable to the severe scourging He’d later receive.

The whips used by the Roman soldiers had thongs, to which small iron balls or sheep bones were tied at intervals. Though, Jewish law commanded that the highest strokes a man could receive was 39, the Romans had no limits. So, it’s save to say that Christ’s flogging could have been much worse.

Christ was whipped by two Roman soldiers referred to as LICTORS. He was whipped on His Chest, Back, Gluteus and Legs. The beatings tore His Skin and underlying subcutaneous tissues. Then the underlying muscles were tattered by the whippings. The ribs could have been fractured by repeated blows, leading to laceration of superficial blood vessels. At a point of the fierce whippings, blood would have spurted out of His deep wounds with each beat.

Blows to Christ’s back would have been excrutiatingly painful. Perforation of the back muscles by the whippings would send impulses that exceeded the pain threshold. The spinous processes of His vertebrae would have been cracked as a result of the beatings.

By the time the lictors were done, Christ had lost so much blood that He had a reduced blood pressure and blood flow. This would have led to a state of shock which would in turn lead to irreversible cell and organ damage.

A crown of thorns (which was most likely to be a helmet of thorns, rather than a carefully plaited crown) was placed on Christ’s head. With the crown on His head, He was also receiving blows to that same head. This would have driven the thorns deeper into the highly vascularized scalp and forehead. At this point, the pain could be best described as indescribable, because of the perforation of nerves, arteries and veins on His head.

Roman soldiers got Christ a royal robe which they consistently wore and took of Him. Each time this happened, the clotted blood on His wounds would reopen, bleed and cause more pain.

Weakened from His scourging, Christ was made to carry His Cross. He fell from the weight of the Cross. This could have led to a blunt chest trauma and a contused heart.

Christ was dehydrated and hypovolemic by the time He reached Golgotha. Nails of about 5 to 7 inches in length were driven into His hands and feet. The nails caused injuries to His median, peroneal and plantar nerves. Insects burrowed into open wounds and orifices in His battered body.

On the cross, Christ had difficulty in breathing. Maximum inhalation was only possible when His body weight was supported by His outstretched arms. But exhalation was impossible in this position, besides, the pain would be too much for His perforated arms to bear, so He had to shift His weight back to His lower extremeties. Christ had to alternate between the two positions just to keep breathing, yet He also had to be careful so as not to reopen clotted wounds. Eventually, fatigue would build up in His muscles and so, He was forced to support His weight on His lower extremeties. Not being able to breathe properly, Christ’s chest and respiratory muscles became paralyzed with increased strain and pain. The inevitable was only moments away…

To ascertain Christ’s clinical death, a random Roman soldier pierced Christ’s side at an angle that reached the base of His heart. The serous pericardial fluid, as well as blood from the heart, gushed out of Christ’s side.

Christ was buried and on the third day, He was resurrected and now is on the right side of power.

But what I continually see, is Christ, with His outstretched arms on the Cross, saying:

“I love you this much. I’d rather die, than live without you”

What would your response be ?!!

State Of The Mind: A Poem

Graves, white-washed graves; sickly beauty;
Full without…
Of loud mouthfuls of knowledge to passersby who care,
Full within…
Of decaying putrid flesh; skeletons no one wants to talk about

Hypochondria, an almost welcome relief, is let out of the backdoor,
While melancholia ‘reins’ with bits.

At the expense of real inspiration,
Self, condemned to daily denial,
Is motivated to maintain the perfect IMAGE…

IDOLATRY! Idolatry it is,
Poor substitute for Godly piety, unabashedly denying
The very Power that could have been its Backer.

The accolades and laurels pushing for significance,
Are rewards for the good performance given…
And all are taken,
Except the unfancied plaque labelled ‘HEED!’

“It’s under control!
it’s under control!!”, they say,
Till when the last grip on the truth
Quickly slips out of the brakeless vehicle
Speeding down the steep gradient

As Blindness sadly smites Realization across the face,
Whatever high shoulders left are shrunk
And locked up under custody of roaring rodents,
That only moments ago had no semblance of a chance

Targeting A Goal: A Poem By Alonge Adeyinka Joseph

Close to the pole of life, i set my ball
Aiming to get a goal.
But getting a goal
isn’t as easy as it seems

Through storms,
Through struggles

My life keeps abiding to those roles
I have to play
My mind keeps following the rhythm of success

My aim is to get a goal
My attention refuses to be diverted
along the slippery paths of life
’cause all I’m targeting is the goal.

Though I’m on the pitch,
pains will come
Through the fatigue that the game puts on me

But all I’m targeting is the pole,
And keep dancing to the to the tune of the game,
to get the goal and win the match

By perseverance, I bear the stress
’cause I say to myself
“Winners never quit,
Quitters never win”

The fear of failure makes
my heart to skip some beats
And at times, I get some sleepless nights

All these do to me
is just to keep me on my toes to get my goal

I’m so close to getting this goal,
I’m not done trying

Because, finally, in the end,
the stress would be worthwhile,
the trials would end,
and victory will be achieved!

P.S: Joe gave me this piece on the 5th day of February, 2013. So, this particular poem is almost a year old!
Well, Alonge Joseph Adeyinka can be reached via email on:

Happy Sunday