STRENGTH TO LIVE IN A SEASON OF DEATHS
It is spring in the Northern Hemisphere. Although spring may not claim the coveted place often reserved for summer in the hierarchy of seasons, it remains a sweet and meaningful season nonetheless.
Spring signifies a powerful period of renewal, growth, and rebirth. It marks nature’s transition from the cold dormancy of winter to vibrant life. It represents new beginnings, balance, and optimism, as longer days and warmer weather foster increased energy, mental clarity, and the shedding of old habits. It is, in every sense, a season of rejuvenation.
This year, March 20 marked the beginning of spring. Yet, the ongoing war between the United States and Israel on one side, and Iran on the other, having begun earlier, has hindered the world’s ability to experience a meaningful transition from the deadness of winter into the renewal of spring.
Although Iran and the Gulf States lie within the Northern Hemisphere, there is, in a figurative sense, no spring in the Persian Gulf. This absence reflects the grim reality of war. The 2026 Iran war began on February 28, 2026, when the United States and Israel launched coordinated surprise airstrikes against multiple sites across Iran, targeting nuclear, military, and critical infrastructure assets. The conflict has since escalated, with Iran retaliating through missile and drone strikes against Israel and U.S. bases and assets in the Gulf region.
In Iran, Israel, and across the Gulf States, thousands have lost their lives, and many more have been injured, with both military personnel and civilians caught in the crossfire. Even American forces have not been spared, with no fewer than 13 to 15 fatalities reported.
Missiles, once evocative of fireworks heralding celebration, have become agents of death and devastation across Iran, Israel, and the Gulf States. Merriment has grown scarce. Rubble now replaces familiar neighbourhood landmarks and monuments. Mourning has overtaken mirth. Minstrels are fading from the scene, while mourners multiply. Death and destruction roam freely.
Some commentators describe this as a “senseless war,” driven by human ego, militarism, political miscalculations, and narrow economic interests. Others argue that it is existential in nature—an unavoidable conflict waged in pursuit of peace and the preservation of freedom, particularly in the Persian Gulf. Still, others hold differing perspectives.
Yet, even in this season of war, death, and destruction, there lies a rare opportunity for hope, rebirth, and renewal. This is the paradox of spring. This is also the season of Easter.
Easter offers a new fabric of hope in exchange for the threadbare and fading despair of war. It brings a fresh breath of hope to a world increasingly threatened by economic instability, exacerbated by rising oil prices linked to disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz, through which no less than 20 per cent of the global oil supply passes.
At its core, Easter commemorates the self-sacrificial death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, offering spiritual rebirth, transformation, and renewal to all who believe.
Great generals understand that when war is declared, lives are inevitably lost. War is not a tea party; the theatre of war is not a coffee shop. It entertains no one. It is not akin to watching a film, attending a comedy show, or playing video games. War is tragedy in its rawest form, a brutal reality that dispenses death, destruction, and delusion, both on a massive scale and in individual lives.
Napoleon Bonaparte, the first Emperor of France and widely regarded as one of history’s greatest military leaders, once reflected on the enduring power of Christ:
“Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne, and I have founded empires. But on what did we rest the creations of our genius? Upon force. Jesus Christ alone founded His empire upon love, and at this hour millions of men would die for Him.”
For those who have encountered Christ, these immortal words remain profoundly reassuring: “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21, KJV)
Interesting reflection. I found myself earlier this evening pondering that same contrast—between empires built on force and the kind of kingdom founded on love, and whether that approach can truly stand in a world driven by speed, scale, and heavy funding.
Then this was shared with me at the exact moment those thoughts were on my mind. That timing felt intentional.
The empires Napoleon mentioned commanded attention, but only as long as force sustained them. What Christ built is different—something people freely choose, remain committed to, and even give their lives for.
It’s a reminder that while force may accelerate growth, it’s love that gives it staying power.
Happy Easter in advance. sir
Hi Idowu. There is a lot to learn from your thoughts on this.
“The empires Napoleon mentioned commanded attention, but only as long as force sustained them. What Christ built is different—something people freely choose, remain committed to, and even give their lives for.
It’s a reminder that while force may accelerate growth, it’s love that gives it staying power.”
Your compelling comment above is highly instructive. Thanks.
Very good read 👏🏼 👏🏼
Most grateful for your comment, Dolapo.
You’ve written something that will stay with me. The contrast between nature’s renewal and humanity’s destruction is heartbreaking — but your turn toward Easter is exactly where strength lives. Not escape. Just resurrection hope in the middle of the rubble. Thank you for this light.
Thanks, Seun. I appreciate your analysis of the hope of Easter in the face of the war-induced human tragedy. It’s good to know where to turn when human experience becomes complicated.
My deduction from your thought sir, force and love when effectively synched, produce great and lasting effect. Reading through this article, I was almost tempted to give it an elongated caption: “The Force of Love.” (lol). Both have great impact on man’s existence, for without force, sometimes to obtain compliance or get through to achieving the impossible in human setting, nothing gets achieved, same goes for love. A person to whom life has been so unkind, would recalibrate and live positively when love is freely expressed to him. Jesus used both and the rest now is history. If Napoleon Bonaparte and his Empire founding colleagues had taken the time to learn from the Master (Jesus), their empire may not have become the unsavory history the world is reading today.
Hopeful, this submission isn’t a mischievous interpretation of your ever informed thought. Cheers