Bittersweet beautiful.


It’s Christmas Day.If you woke up with the bittersweet feeling that, although you should be happy(”tis after all the season to be jolly) but you have to fight the urge to break out into tears, this post is for you. Because it’s for me too.
It isn’t that you aren’t grateful for all he has done for you. It isn’t that you don’t have any reasons to be jolly. It isn’t that you don’t know he has kept you, preserved you, provided for you, comforted you.
But if you’ve experienced any sort of betrayal, rejection or redundancy this year, you know what I’m talking about.
If you have had to question yourself this year, if you have had to wonder if you are really as bad as someone has made you out to be, you know what I am saying.
But. And this is the most important but you will hear.

But someone, the God who created the heavens and the earth, the God who is the Elyon, most high, entered through the fabric of time today. 

He came as a little babe, whose purpose was to die.
And he did this because, he wanted to let you know that, although you may be heartbroken, may have been rejected, although you have broken sobs coming through today, he came.
He came to establish the fact that other people’s rejection of you is nothing compared to his complete, total acceptance of you. Flaws and all.

He will never reject you. He came to be like you to understand your every feeling, every pain, every emotion, every betrayal.
So that when he is covering your shame, your pain and your nakedness, he knows exactly where and how to cover. He knows what places to feel, what wounds to apply salve to. 

And he is the best person for the job, because he knows you by name.
Don’t forget that today. 

Don’t ever forget that.
Merry Christmas.

Became.


The year 2016 started on a very high note for her. She had gotten engaged to her(then) boyfriend eight days prior, in a beautiful, surprising little ceremony that took her breath away. The love of her life. The one that God sent to her, to love forever. Her life seemed to be moving in the direction she thought it should. Hope was flying around, infectious, available for the taking, and she grabbed it greedily. Didn’t God say he would always finish what he’d started? All the technicalities of being married and moving out finally were not finalized, but there was a ring! He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her(or so the ring promised)! Nothing could touch her! Nothing could touch them. 

She could plan. She could decorate her home(in her head). All those experiments she always wanted to try in the kitchen, she could finally do them!She could finally talk about her wedding dress, her wedding colors, she could look forward to being a queen on her special day. She could finally have legal sex. 
It’s December 2016 and she can tell you that on a scale of 1-10, this year ranks 259,000 as the most difficult year in the entirety of her short(or not-so-short) life. 

Every dream held dear to her for this year got shattered. Every fear she ever had came to pass this year. 

Failed professional exams(twice)?✔️

Being so broke at some point that even 10naira could not surface?✔️

Crying such bucketfuls this year from a heart that has been so riddled with pain and fear that it’s hard to remember if there was a time she didn’t cry all the time?✔️✔️

Justin Timberlake knew what he was saying when He sang ‘Cry Me A River’. She knew now that it was possible.

Nightmares that woke her up and made her bolt up like someone on a leash?✔️

Woken up crying many many many times, evidenced by tears on the face?✔️

Questioned her sanity more times this year than in the entirety of her life?✔️✔️✔️

An object of ridicule and pity? ✔️✔️ ✔️✔️✔️

Tried?✔️Afflicted?✔️Wounded?✔️ Bruised?✔️Battered?✔️✔️
Many things were said. She is strong, they said. She is hard, they said. She is unyielding, they said.
When it became the only choice, when it got to the point where I should have been chosen, I wasn’t chosen.

When it got too hot, I was dropped.

Heartbreak, long lost enemy she thought she had lost forever was back.You can’t get rid of me, he seemed to whisper gleefully in her ears.

Twenty-Sweet-Sixteen? Sweet? What was that, exactly?

Oh, but you see, many other things happened this year.

For one, more than anything else, She appreciates the precious gift of God as a sure friend in her life this year. She is nobody in the grand scheme of things. Really. Smaller than a dot, a speck. 
But she is chosen. Nothing was clearer this year than this. 

Chosen by God to BE LOVED and to LOVE.

BELOVED. Every tear She cried he cried right with her. Not one of her tears are wasted. Even the ones she is crying now, blurring her vision as she types this.
Her hope is anchored on a surety that will NEVER expire, never finish, never become invalid. She cannot sell this surety for any amount because nothing can buy it. All the riches of this world cannot pay for it. All.

This therefore means that her hope can NEVER end.
Friendships, covenant friendships were formed this year, the blood of Jesus Christ being the seal..and that is a blood that is more powerful than any other force in the world. Bonds that cannot be broken even by death.
You see, pain provides the sharp contrast against pleasure. Love provides the sharp contrast against fear. If you haven’t felt pain, pleasure isn’t as intense, as important. If you haven’t felt fear, Love is not as appreciated, as treasured.
Ah, but Pain redeems. Ask Jesus. His pain, his blood on the cross redeemed the whole of Humanity. So her pain redeems. There is beauty on the other side.

The love of God is real. It is Sure. It’s firm.

It’s surer than gravity.

Better than life.

Does not change or alter, like shifting shadows.

It is scandalous, consistent, incomprehensible.

It’s humbling. 

She does not understand it, can’t ever fully comprehend it in the limited scope of this present human frame and sensibilities, ah but it is a cushion, a safe place, a warm place. A place where impossibilities become possible. 
For a while there, her name was Mara. But He reminded her that she is a fruitful vine. A beautiful land.

Hephzibah.

Beulah.

Her land flows with Milk and Honey.

There is purpose in her existence. 

So she will stay here. In Jesus.

Here is the place of thanksgiving, of thanks-living, of thank-FULL-ness, of hope, of peace, of total dependence.
And all of her little girl dreams will be rebuilt, restored, slowly maybe.(or not. Who is to determine?)But surely. 

All. Not one missing, not one broken, not one lost.
He will STILL do what He has said He will do. He is God. And she trusts Him.

You are mine. I cherish you, He says.

That’s all.

 

23:30.


I want to go home.Where my heart is safe.

Where my feelings are valid.

Where my voice is treasured.
Where my thoughts are thought in peace.

Where my solitude is valued.

Where touches are sweet..intimate

..kisses not stolen, hugs big and warm.

Where tears are not overlooked, never overlooked.

Surely it’s home when kindness is law

And love is king?

Where trust is preserved…

Isn’t it home where no topic is taboo?

Where conflict produces resolution?

Where silence is enjoyed, not used as a tool for abuse?

Where love is requited, appropriately?
Home.

Where the music made is beautiful.

Or beautiful chaos.

Where everyone is enough.

Where it is all enough. 

That’s home.
I need you, home.

I do.

Out there. Here.


You ever get there? You ever figure?Where your tired is tired?

Is this what it is?

Is this how it plays out?

Gnashing my teeth unconsciously I only notice when I have a headache.

Chest so tight I hear a wheeze.

Not the asthma wheeze. It’s the heart-fractured-in-so-many-places pain is oozing out from every crack-kind-of-wheeze.

Neither Band-aid nor POP can fix this.

Silent screams wishing somehow to be heard..

How do I sort through this pain? settled in my chest like a king.

Where do I start to mend from?

Pain so diverse, yet so familiar I don’t even know where to ligate.

To stop the bleeding that has become.
But You are great, O God. There can be no other. You are true. All else is a lie. You are Great. Beautiful for all situations. I can’t concern myself with anything else. I won’t concern myself with anything else. You slay me. I praise you. 
One day. That day. The day. She comes forth. It comes forth.

That day that her experience lines up with her position.

That day that the tears are of joy not sorrow.

Great day when her heart takes flight.
You are beautiful, You are lovely. You are kind, you are wise, you are IMPORTANT.

He will remind you how lovely, how honorable, how beautiful, how valuable, how important you are.

Your light shines brighter and brighter. Nothing barren is roundabout or inside of you. You are woman, phenomenally you, blessedly priceless. 
It won’t be long now. Blessings upon blessings. Mountains being removed. It won’t be long now. 
The day comes, it breaks forth, when you don’t have to struggle to wonder if you are special to the man that God has kept for you. Where you don’t have to doubt if it’s you or it’s everyone else. Till then, thank the Lord that to Him, you are always special, always different, always loved, always cherished. 

Thank you Jesus for your unfailing love. 

This thing called Love.


Two nights ago I tried to imagine what heaven looked like on the day of the crucifixion.

A little background-God was on earth, living as a man, ‘limited’ by all the frailties and the constrictions of this human body. 
I’m sure there were discourses and talks in heaven on this topic. ‘The Benefits of being man’ or ‘The man-God’. Lol. The Angels must have wondered why anyone who could be in a million different places at once would want to be in one place, walking around in the dust and the harsh weather,talking to people whose hearts were so hardened by sin,pain and everything in between, that they probably wouldn’t have listened.

You know why I’m certain they would have talked about it? Because the bible says that angels long to look into the things of salvation. They long to understand it. But they don’t. That is a sole preserve of God and humans.
Think about that for a while, will you?
So,come crucifixion afternoon,Jesus died. 
God died. 
The hosts of heavenly armies must have looked on in horror. I know that they were loyal to God entirely, and they trusted that He knew what He was doing-after all, He has NEVER failed. But I often wonder if maybe a few of them thought that maybe God had taken it too far?
 Probably my humanity talking….lol.
Anyway, my musing continued.I imagined that as they looked on, they kept thinking in their minds, he will send us out to end this madness right now. I’m sure they were more than ready to save Jesus from this terrible,shameful death in a micro second. They must have wondered what on earth(pun intended) was going on. With the flick of their fingers they could have ended the crucifixion and restored Jesus’ body.
Yet God told them to do nothing. To stay put.
Nothing.
How frustrating,I imagine.
Heaven must have been silent. 
God died. 
Oh,but resurrection morning came. Resurrection morning. The morning that altered everything forever.
Everything changed from there. Even our regular calendar is dated Before Christ, and After Death. B.C And A.D.
He rose. He used death to destroy death itself so everyone knows they need not die or be subject to death anymore.
His death made a public show of the disgrace of Satan.
His resurrection made a public show of God’s superiority and Boss-hood. Lol.  Not that it needed to be shown. 
The heavens declare His power and Royalty.
Creation worships just by being. The sun worships by rising and setting every day since forever without fail. The cock crows the same time everyday, via an internal body clock. The earth has not fallen out of orbit since creation. Who else but God could have done that?
Pastor Philip Ransom Bello would always say that if the devil understood what God’s plan of salvation was,he would have done everything to make sure Jesus did not die.
Salvation was a brilliant,genius thing that could have only been brought about by a God whose ways are so superior,so unbelievably foolproof that it can only be the true God. It’s motivation is love. Pure,blinding,scandalous,unprecedented, unequivocal,unapologetic(please insert your own adjectives here)love. A love that the Angels cannot understand because the salvation plan was not even made known to them. 
A love that cut through my heart last night in a way that I cannot fully explain. A love that humbled me and left me unable to stand(literally)for the sheer force of it, just so I can hold my head up high the rest of the days of my life,knowing that I am loved in ways that I can’t fully comprehend until maybe this body is renewed.
I’m saved. I didn’t earn it. I could never pay for it. But it was given freely to me. Because I believed. Only.
He died. Then He rose. 
For me.
Overwhelmed. Forever in awe.

Musings on Sovereign.


I read Da Vinci’s code for the first time in 2005. I’d never heard of Dan Brown before that time, so I had no prior biases.

I enjoyed it. Immensely. It was such an interesting, well written, fast paced thriller. Of course the fact that it was a book speaking about so-called controversies in the catholic church(I was raised catholic and there was so much I didn’t understand. Not to say this book helped me understand any further..lol. But it helped solidify my already restless thoughts about God and Church and all that jazz. However that is talk for another time. I digress!)

At the end of it all, I came away with the ‘knowledge'(even though he already wrote a disclaimer that although his book was well researched, it was a work of fiction) that Jesus Christ had indeed married Mary Magdalene and had a child.

To be honest, I didn’t know how to take this information. I was not incensed nor was I completely disbelieving. I tried to reason it out like an intellectual. I wanted to be one of those of whom it could be said that could read anything and process the information without becoming unduly influenced. You see, it was important to me that I was not known as a religious bigot, neither did I want to be known as an intolerant person.

So after much ruminating, I came to the conclusion that it was okay if Jesus was married. He was man, wasn’t he? Marriage is a very important part of adult life, I told myself.

So long as my beliefs were not shaken, so long as him being married did not affect how I viewed Jesus, it was okay.

And I was fine.

Three days ago, (nine years and maybe a few months later), I stumbled upon the Da-vinci code on TV. It became a big motion picture, as you all know, and it was the subject of so much talk.

And in watching it, I realised I never really believed that Jesus was married.

Not because of any indoctrination either.

No, this revelation was wholly of the spirit of God. And I know this because I could not have thought it through in my own knowledge.

You see, Jesus was and is God. He came to earth to save us from what we could not save ourselves from. We could never have pleased God because we were never good enough from the start. Adam made sure of that.

He is one with God, and so He knows all things with God. He knows our end from our beginning. He knows every man’s thoughts before he even thinks it.

And because God is the biggest dramatist, the best cinematographer, screen writer, the biggest movie writer of all time, the biggest everything of everything good and beautiful, because God wrote the plan of salvation long before we even knew we needed saving, he also knew that the Da-vinci code would be written in this time. He knew that the topic of Jesus’ marriage-or lack thereof would come up.

He knew man’s propensity to fit God into a box, into his own mold. Into his own understanding.

He knew man would try to think through the issue of salvation in his own limited thoughts.

He knew that, if Jesus got married, had an earthly bloodline, had earthly children,someone would try to water down salvation and grace. That man would reduce the fact of Jesus’ death and resurrection to a matter of earthly bloodlines. That we would try to compress the fact that because we have access now to God wholly through Jesus Christ, that we have the righteousness of God through Christ and Christ alone, making us sons and co-heirs, someone would try to make us all unequal in grace because someone would say that the original earthly bloodline of Jesus was superior and that these superior ones who have his blood flowing through their veins may not have to confess with their mouths and believe with their hearts that Jesus is Lord.

Because that’s what humans do. We classify. We segregate. We separate into castes. Into colors.

But in God there are no favorites. In God we are ALL equal. We are all sons. All children of the Most High. Jesus’ blood saved me and redeemed me and gave me unlimited, unending access.

Me and everyone else who believes that Jesus is Lord.

And that is all that counts.

PS-I have ‘un-learned’ the ‘knowledge’ of Jesus’ marriage. Hehe.

Oh, and Happy new year guys 🙂 Better late than never.

The Pulse Of Holy


 

Hey guys 🙂 its been a long long hiatus hasn’t it ?:-)

So much has been going on and I have ignored this blog so long..but I met a complete stranger today who said he read my blog and asked why I’d stopped writing. I had no answer..but I am humbled and grateful for him because he encouraged me to write..again. In like five minutes..lol. Thank you, Jude Eneh:-)

 

So, I want to talk to you about something that has been on my mind for a little while now. Yep I am back!

 

Someone important was talking about holiness and sanctity of the church(the building and the institution) and how,amongst other things, Christians do not take the House of God seriously anymore and are often found gossiping, chewing gum and generally being ‘un-church-like’ in church. Lol. I am sure you guys understand what I am trying to say. Anyway, he got to a part in his talk and said that what was being done at their own Christian gathering was not ‘the same’ as what was done at any ‘ordinary’ prayer meeting outside(paraphrased). Ie it was superior.

 

For some reason my mind stayed stuck on that one sentence. Mulled it over. Dissected it. Worried it. Tore it apart. Contemplated it. Ruminated about it..lol..you sha get the point.

 

Is there such thing as an ‘ordinary’ prayer meeting? I mused.

 

Let’s break this down.

 

Prayer is the communication of the Spirit of man with the Spirit of God. Because, God is wholly Spirit(thank you TSP for this teaching) so the only way to communicate with Him is Spirit to Spirit, hence prayer.

 

So, there is a reason why Jesus said, where two or three gather, I am there.

He didn’t talk just because he liked the sound of his voice. He said it to show that the Spirit of God, which hovered over the waters way way before ‘the beginning’ as us humans know it, which was present at creation, which God breathed into man to give his body life…there is a reason why the Spirit of God is present when we pray. Its because when we pray our spirits are in communication with God, who is Spirit..and He comes to that place of prayer to inhabit the prayers and praises of His people.

 

 

Since God’s nature is Holy, His holiness is a constant! He. Is. Holy. It does not change. It does not increase or decrease. It does not go anywhere. It is a living, breathing, life-giving thing, with them that pray, in them, whether its two people or a million, and His holiness changes EVERYTHING!

 

 

Therefore, just because a song contains the name Jesus, or God, don’t make it holy, right? Its the Spirit behind a thing that makes it holy or unholy. Not everyone who goes to church is saved. And not everyone gets saved in church. I didn’t get saved in church. Does that make the experience less valid because I did not partake of a rite of passage at church?

 

No ritual, no rites, nothing makes a place holy. These things are a crutch that man needs to get on and live by, to feel like he is doing something. God does not need a ceremony to be in a place or in someone. All He needs is to be invited in.

 

God makes people holy. By association, that Spirit which inhabits people is what makes a place and/or a gathering holy. This is the reason why a Church building may be said to be holy, because God will most likely be invited in there. And its the same principle behind the fact that a club may be said to be unholy because people going to a club are not really thinking about God there(that is probably an understatement..lol)

 

 

This is why there is no such thing as an ordinary prayer meeting. Except you are trying to tell me that God is ordinary. Or that the Spirit of God is ordinary. Ha!

 

 

Christians need to learn to stop fighting and discriminating against each other. I keep telling my friends that when Jesus comes, He won’t come to take the Assemblies of God Church to heaven. Or the Anglican Church. He will take individuals, individual spirits, if you like, who have worshipped Him in truth and spirit. Whether they belonged to big churches or small churches or no churches.

 

No one genuinely Christian way of worship is better than another. Why Christians fight for superiority over each other is beyond me. That ain’t even Christian. Smh.

 

There is a name for people who think that everyone else who isn’t in their own little group, who don’t do things the way they do it or the way they think it should be done, is wrong. Its found in Galatians 5v19-21.

 

Let’s not get it twisted. The pulse of Holiness is found in man, because the Spirit of God lives in man. Not because one church institution is better than another.

 

Toh. I am out. Not for too long though. wink

 

Untitled.


She picked up her phone to call, heart racing, ears pounding. They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Pride made them unable to reach out for each other, even though they were hurting. So much water had passed under the bridge…

Will he even answer?She wondered. Anxious…gosh, what to say, even! Panicked, suddenly wondering why she was even calling..but,oops! Too late! She heard his voice..

‘Hey! Been really busy..What’s up now’? He asked. So casually. As if we spoke only yesterday. As if she was just an ordinary friend.

‘Im fine’ she shrilled. Voice too tiny, too tense. ‘Are you still very busy?’ she asked,suddenly at a loss. 

‘Yes I am’, he replied. Sounding a little terse. Cold.

‘Alright, just wanted to know how you were doing..take care! Bye!’ she chirps.

The line disconnected even before she was done talking. Thirty-one seconds on the timer.

She’d always hated that-how he always seems like in a hurry to get off the phone. Was he this way with  just me, she wondered? Or is he this way with every one else?

Oh God, why am I even agonizing about this?? Why did I even call? Sobbing,she lay on the bed. Tears filling her throat. Hurt filling her heart. This Oh-So-Familiar pain. Why, why, why???

 

 

He saw her. He knew she would hurt afterwards. He felt her pain even as she felt it. He felt her let down, he knew her deepest longings. And he knew that she would cry to Him-suffering brings you to the end of yourself, where you realize that God is ALL you have. He knew she would come with the pieces of her, shattered.

 

Why won’t you be patient, my child?He asks, after her heart’s bare,raw before Him. Why do you not trust me, my child?He asks, His voice full of sorrow. Am I not your friend? Have I not stood by you through those times? When you failed that exam, did I not comfort you? Did I not remind you that you are smart? Strengthen you to try again? When hatred threatened to consume you, because your uncle betrayed you, did I not call you to myself? Did I not soothe your aching heart with the balm of my love? When he treated you like a whore-when he used your body and beat down your mind, your will, was it not I who picked you up and lifted your head and made you beautiful again? Was it not I who restored your dignity, your self worth?

 

Why do you forget so quickly, my dear?

Why do you seek the love of the one who does not know how to love you? Who does not care even, to learn how to love you? Do you forget that I crafted how you need to be loved in my own heart? I LOVE YOU! Do you not see that?

 

My yoke is easy, child. My burden is light. Do you forget so quickly the peace you have when you are thinking of me? When your heart’s thinking of ways to please me? Do you forget the spring in your steps, darling, the love shining in your eyes, the joy trilling forth from your voice, when your heart is loving mine?

 

Why do you have such a penchant for worry, my love? My heart delights when your heart’s bursting with love! When there’s a smile in your every word. When its all you can do not to be happy!

 

Why, child?

 

Come, child. Its warm here. Rest. Sleep in the comfort of my arms. Rest in my embrace. Please, let me hold your hand. Let me kiss your nightmares away. Let me love you. Let me heal your aching heart. Let me dry your tears. And afterwards, let’s take a walk. Together.

 

Come. 

*Written on October 2nd, 2012. At a time when my life was falling apart.

But it fell apart to come together again, God’s way. Not mine.

I was reminded of it today, again.

Sometimes…there needs to be a falling apart for a coming together.

In whatever situation.*

 

 

 

 

Madness,maybe?


‘I believe in God, and I know He is God and can do all things. However, I also believe He has given us knowledge so that we can make informed decisions based on this knowledge. Let us not tempt God in our decisions. Some things cannot change. What can God do?’-excerpt,paraphrased.

Not tempt God?
What can God do?

I felt betrayed. It was like a sucker punch to my gut. It literally took the wind out of my sails.

After crying and yelling and railing, I went back to thinking. Decided to find out the meaning of tempt. Here’s what I got:

Tempt-To entice to do wrong by promise of pleasure or gain.
To induce to do something.
To risk provoking.

Going further, I checked the meaning of provoke.

Provoke-to incite to anger-both from the Merriam Websters Dictionary of the English language.

Now….what can God do?
Wow…hmmm….a question that a lot of us have asked(with our actions). How?
When we are impatient,having bought into the ‘now’ culture which has pervaded the secular world and now intruded and taken over our Churches,the need for instant gratification evident when we go ahead to venture into a business deal without His backing or endorsement,because it looks like it may yield immediate profit.

The craze that has become picking out a life partner by ourselves,without waiting for Him to bring who He has prepared for us.

The way we forget to pray when we get ill.

Looking to others-people like you and I,running this same race of life, for validation. And despising them when they cannot provide that which only God can.

In each way we turn to our selves first,our money,our friends, our families(first), what we are really doing is asking God what He can do.

I’d never heard the words put so succinctly before and they sounded so blasphemous to my ears,so I recoiled in horror because, hypocrite that I am( I am really no better because I had only subconsciously thought it amd not voiced it), I thought,for just a minute there,that I was better. And I asked the stupidest question ever. ‘How can you say such a thing?’
But the real question should have been ‘what CAN’T He do?’

And in that second,I realised why the statement ‘don’t tempt God’ had always grated.

Don’t tempt God? How,exactly? How can us,mere humans do that? Seduce Him?(I guffawed at the thought) By inducing Him to do something?
Me,incite God?

We make Him too small.

Is there anything that He doesn’t already know? Is there anything you want to ask that He didn’t lay in your heart? Is there anything you want to ask that hasn’t been asked? The desires and wishes of man haven’t changed from creation and the fall of man. God has been dealing with our kind since for ever.

Since when does faith provoke God to anger?

Since when is believing the very nature,the very essence of God wrong?

Because if believing the impossible is tempting God,I might as well resign to tempting Him my whole life. The idea of a man who died two thousand years ago being the salvation of the whole world is ludicrous,really,based on common knowledge.

But it isn’t knowledge that pleases God. Faith is.

So there.

omanma

There is contrast.


I’ve been reading the book of Ezra in the last few days.  Today I got to the part where there was a report about the Israelites getting married to pagan women(anyone who did not worship the God of Israel was referred to as pagan),and in most instances having children by them.

If you are familiar with some of biblical history, you will know that, in those days, God gave strict orders that the Israelites must not marry outside of Israel. This is because marriage is supposed to be an ‘integrater'(I don’t think that is a proper word but i’m using it anyway ;p).When you marry someone, you marry their hopes, dreams, likes , loves, belief systems. Essentially, you get stuck with everything-warts and all..hehehe.
And so marrying pagan women meant marrying their gods and ways. And their practices, which were said to be detestable to God.

Essentially, in God’s books, they were unfaithful to Him because they would have worshipped the gods of these pagans. And we know how God felt about idols. How He still feels about idols.

So, the anger of God burned against them. Fiercely. They were killed,robbed, captured.
When Ezra found out about this, he was devastated. Appalled. He sat in ashes in mourning. An assembly was called. The people confessed. And after confessing, as a sign of reconciliation, of godly repentance, an agreement was reached to divorce their pagan wives and send them away.

Hmm.

This was taking the moral high ground, for certain. The suffering and the injustice of it all..and why should the children have to pay for this? Divorce is NEVER a good thing. Never.  It seems too much a price to pay, really.

And yet, it was a strict decree from God..and his decrees take no prisoners.  Its either you do it or you don’t.  Either you fully obey, or you don’t.  All or nothing. His way or the highway. You get nowhere by sitting on the fence.

Faith is like that,you know. Taking the high road. Fixing your eyes on something only you can see. Faith literally eschews reality. Faith is NOT reality. Having faith is completely unrealistic. Anyone can and will believe in what they see. Faith…that is a completely different matter o. Because, like I said earlier, you get nowhere by sitting on the fence. You either have faith, or you don’t.

So, if we can profess to have faith;take the high road, fixing our eyes on what we say we believe and essentially ignoring everything else, not compromising until the evidence of things unseen is right there before us, then the flipside of the coin is, treating the decrees of God as such.
No compromise. No reasoning it out. No justifying. 
The decrees say, don’t steal. Don’t fornicate. Don’t lie about your neighbor.  Don’t gossip. Love.

Just fix your eyes on what you must do and don’t reason it out.

Afterall, when you are having faith and expecting God to respond, you don’t really expect him to reason it out. You honestly, really and truly expect Him to answer. If you are like me, you want Him to answer in the way you envisioned it in your head.

Sticking to and obeying the commands and wishes of God is its own form of faith. Its having to believe that,even though it seems okay to do these things, He had to have had a good reason for saying I shouldn’t.  And I’m choosing to focus on that reason even if I don’t completely understand it. #thinkaboutit.

And that is really and truly faith,friends. That’s the fear of God. That’s #nobullshit Christianity.

PS-very glad to be back and blogging. Very long hiatus- Your girl almost died. But that is a story for another day 🙂

It, then.


The time I am most at rest in my life is when I am reading something. It may be an eagerly anticipated book, an interesting article or an old, well worn but loved novel that I must’ve read over and over(some books just do that for me). No academic stuff though. .lol…but really, reading is what I do for rest. For leisure.  Reading is what I do when I am at peace with myself and with the world. Reading is what I do when I’m happy. Reading is what I do to get happy-being invited into the mind of someone else is utterly fascinating.

When im distressed, when I’m involved in an argument with someone I love(arguments upset me more than I can ever say), when I’m worried, and I pick up a book and find that I can’t concentrate, then I know for certain that whatever it is that’s happening has really and truly stolen away my peace.

I can’t tell you how many times that has happened. You probably know what im talking about.

Peace. Much coveted commodity in our hearts, in our homeS,and by extension, in our world-you only have to look at Maiduguri,or Syria, to know for certain that peace is an expensive, sought out commodity.

We all know what it is not to have peace. A difficult boss. An exam that has caused us not to get a promotion. Bills that remain unpaid for one reason or another.  A boyfriend who demands unreasonable things. Children who just won’t act right.(You can insert here what takes away your peace..lol)

On Sunday,pentecost,I thought of what it must have been like to be a disciple of Jesus in the period that he died. The Roman soldiers would’ve looked everywhere for them-to eliminate all traces of Jesus and this strange new cult that was threatening to emerge-nothing should be a threat to Caesar’s rule, and this Jesus preached some sort of Kingship. The Jewish leaders had their own motives-this Jesus brought  some sort of apostasy on a grand scale!
By default, this followership had to be squashed. I imagine there would’ve been some price money on each of the heads of the major players and all affiliated to them.

Huddled in that inner room upstairs, whispering and frightened for their lives, probably wondering if the last three years with Jesus was worth this trouble, remembering all his talk about going to Jerusalem and dying and wondering why the bloody man had to be so damn mysterious with all this His talk(I would’ve been exasperated with Jesus,to be honest)missing him so much and wondering if they would ever see him again, maybe at some point or the other, whispering a word or two of prayer, but mostly reminiscing about this man who had changed their lives on a scale that even they at the time could not fully comprehend….

…..and suddenly,a hush falls over the room.
There he is. Standing, probably with a slightly playful,slightly mysterious expression on his face.

Peace be with you, He says.
And their hearts are suddenly full and empty at the same time. Full! Bursting at the seams with joy, happiness and this PEACE they’ve been craving,the kind that only this man-God could give.
And empty…! Wonderfully empty of this..fear, this anxiety that they’ve been carrying about.
Because, you see,apart from this peace, he gave them the Holy Spirit. As a matter of fact, they went hand in hand. And once they embraced this Holy Spirit, their lives changed on a scale that,like the domino effect,has caused ripples upon ripples..to this very day. Those fearful, weak men became,seemingly overnight,powerful courageous men, who couldn’t keep silent about the wonderfulness of this man who they had been with.

Peace. And with peace, courage.

Courage may very well be the absence of fear,then, if what happened to the disciples is anything to go by. Because, these timid men who literally scattered in the wake of Jesus’ arrest became,only a few years later, men who bravely gave their lives for this Jesus.

I don’t see any fear there.

Courage. The absence of fear. Jesus came and breathed this peace. This peace that dispelled the fear. This Spirit that gave courage.
And so I say to you. Peace.  #theJesusway.#theonlyway.

April 20 Twale.


And so I’m returning from the female ward, after being called(unnecessarily) to review a patient whose blood sugar is high and is refusing to come down, whom I have already reviewed earlier today, mind, and written out instructions, informed the nurse, who didn’t inform the nurse who had called me, which therefore, invalidated the need for her to call me, and i’m making my way back to my apartment, after making sure all was done that was necessary, when AnE-the most dreaded unit to call you when you are on call, I might add, calls me to review a patient.

I do an about turn-and just as I am getting to the AnE, I see a woman, on the floor beside a cab, legs wide open, and…Oh Lord! I see a baby’s head! Her baby’s head! Her baby is about to be delivered right there on the floor!!

I grab a pair of gloves from the nurse, while he tries to fish for the scissors from the autoclave with which he will sever the umbilical cord, while the porters and attendants are scrambling to screen this lady off because she says that she is too tired to move to the appropriate place to deliver her baby. We move her back into the back-seat of the cab, ask her to hold on to the hand-rails of the car and PUUUUUSSSSSHHHH!! And with one final powerful effort, her beautiful, perfect, tiny little girl is born! Wailing at the top of her lungs, too! Oh, that beautiful sound of new life!

Cord severed, Placenta delivered, Baby fingers and toes all counted and Baby cleaned five minutes later, I take baby up to the baby unit,with her mommy being wheeled in right on my heels.

I go back downstairs, to AnE, and on reaching there,I find out that calling me was in error. I wasn’t really needed in AnE, it turns out.

Or was I?

What are the odds, people? What are the odds that I was going to be there, the exact moment, the exact hour? I had been delayed from going to the female ward when I had been called initially, so I went there about ten minutes later. If I had gone in at the time I was called, there would have been a delay in getting to the AnE because I would’ve already returned to my apartment, in which case, more distance would have had to be covered in order for me to return to AnE when the nurse called me(as opposed to the fact that I only had to do an about turn while returning to my apartment earlier). The AnE nurse was the only one there at the time, and he had his hands full dealing with another patient. The Obs and Gyne doctor had her hands full upstairs, too. I have only just finished my Obs and Gyne rotation, but i’m currently in Medicine. Yet I was called to review a patient who had already been reviewed by the casualty officer in AnE.

What cosmic force arranged this? Who is in charge of these tiny, little details, these events that are so small in the grand scheme of things but Oh-so-important??? What cosmic force would not let this precious, tiny little tot to be snatched away by death this afternoon, this wonderful little one who was also born on the birth-date of my precious mother?

The fool says in his heart, there is no God. And saying here, friends, does not necessarily mean the act of speaking by mouth. Its in actions. The things we do or don’t do.

Hmmm.

God, people. God. Chukwu. Osolobuwe. Allah. Kabiyesi. Oluwa. Olorun. Elohim. Elyon. Shen. Baha. Jehovah. Yahweh. Olodumare. Amba. Baya. Abasi. Duruma. Abrie. By whatever name you choose to call Him, in whatever language, GOD. Nothing escapes His notice. Nothing is beyond Him. Master-planner, Master dramatist(you have to admit this was pretty dramatic..lol), Master-everything. Even when things seem like they are spiraling out of control, He is a THERE force. That cosmic force, but so much more than just that. That tiny voice that whispers in your head and guides you in the way to go, but Oh, so much more than that.

Books cant contain Him, but he resides in my little heart.

And when He calls(and He will use any means necessary to call, like something as ordinary as using the AnE nurse’s phone), and you answer, it is ALWAYS worth it.

My man thinks that God, in His God-way, is trying to tell me something. Or some things. Hmm 🙂 I’ll just sit here, quietly, and hope that I can be still to KNOW. 🙂

God. He needs no introduction. My knees are on the ground. My heart, too. #AndThatIsAll.

*AnE-Accident and Emergency unit.

Obs and Gyne-Obstetrics and Gynecology, a branch of Medicine which deals with the care of pregnant women and overall care of the female reproductive system.

‘On call’-To be expressly available at anytime of the day or night, as a Doctor to review any patients in the unit you work, within the stipulated hours you will be at work,outside of the government stipulated work hours.*

…Selah…


….There is nothing wrong with wanting to be like God. Nothing blasphemous,or ambitious about that. We are made in His image and likeness-it is therefore,only a natural desire. It is why human beings are the only ‘creators’ in the whole world-Animals can create nothing. We are hard-wired to create because God who is our maker is The Creator. Its why technological, biochemical and biological creations will never cease to stun and surprise us.

Its the way we go about it that may be suspect, though. Eve ate the fruit of the tree of good and evil because she wanted to be like God. The problem with that though,was that she disobeyed God,to try to be like Him. Its like wanting to please your parents by passing your exams, but instead of studying to pass,you cheat on your tests. I’m assuming that your parents are reasonable people and want you to learn not only about the value of passing,but ultimately about the value of hard work ie- studying to pass. You would have passed that exam,but would have disobeyed your parents in the manner you passed.

Its the same principle at work here. God is the Creator. We can ONLY be like Him by His own rules. His own way. Not by anything we can fathom,or fashion.

Let’s Fight,Shall We?


Perhaps we should all just make a unanimous decision to start a civil war. I’m assuming we would be the first country to do that- Decide to go to war,before war makes the decision for us. Yes, let’s set up military posts, to register our men, 18 and above, to hurriedly train them in the art of war, to put weapons in their hands and give them free rein to their blood lusts. We have all the ingredients at hand-hatred, tribalism, ethnic violence, religious intolerance, jungle justice, unrest, and an abundance of ignorance, political ill will and greed. Did I neglect to mention shortage of food and water, shortage of light, lack of access to health and amenities, and most of all, a celebrated lack of patriotism that celebrates itself in blaming ‘the government’ for every single mishap, while absolving ourselves of our gross corruption-on every level? Yes, there’s that, too. Let’s bring it aaaaallllll together and concoct a wonderful war brew.

At least in this case, we would have mobile phones, cameras, ipads and mini’s-all kinds of media equipment made available to man. We have access to all the social media-facebook,twitter and the like would be set ablaze by the arguments and discourses for and against the war. We would have everything in pictures, videos and audio-nothing will be left to the imagination. This won’t be like the first civil war,where there were no records, no ‘official’ history of a war which has affected our country so deeply and has been left unspoken about, undocumented and un-taught in schools. A civil war whose various and varied accounts are, at best, full of emotions and hearsay,and mostly lacking in objectivity. A civil war which, when brought up, brings up incredible stores of vitriol and angst, because the right measures have not been put in place to address this issue properly, to cool the tempers of the aggrieved,and to help us, the children of the Nigeria after the civil war to understand,and avoid those same mistakes.
No, an elephant has lived in the room for as long as forever and the best everyone can do is ignore it. Those who have attempted to take up the herculean task of discussing it have been accused of varied crimes-attachment to the past, leaving those ‘sort of things’ as they are, and not wanting a unified Nigeria.

Really?

Perhaps, if we just agree, in one unified voice, to this, the Boko Haram insurgents, the suicide bombers, the looting and senseless killings,the violence and corruption and greed that seems so inherent in the nature of the ruling party and the populace, the general note of discordance that is so palpable in this so called ‘one Nigeria’ will end.

Let’s all agree to start a civil war, shall we? In unity and faith,for peace and progress, let’s come together,in one accord,to achieve something. Maybe at some point,hopefully not a point where we can’t return from, men will REALLY turn to God, and ACT, and not just sit down in Churches and/or Mosques and in their homes, pretending that they are advocates of one Nigeria while not really doing anything different(until,of course,the violence personally touches them or a member of their family) in their places of work or sphere of influence to stop corruption and injustice. Deceiving ourselves into thinking that if we don’t work in the government we can’t do anything in our own little area to cause Her to progress.

Let’s. Let’s blow up our military bases and riddle our houses and hospitals with bullets. Let’s raze down our settlements and blow up our government buildings. Let’s loot our markets and homes,and generally live in a lot more disorganised society than we already are. Let’s sacrifice whatever progress we’ve made as a democracy(whatever that represents in the Nigerian parlance) and go back to before square one. Let’s all live by the sword(guns,acid,bombs,machetes, whatever your sword is).

Let’s teach our children any and all forms of intolerance, and let’s educate them on how profitable prejudice is.

Maybe when this war comes,we will all heave collective sighs of relief.

A Letter for my Osolobuwe


For a while, Lord, perhaps all week, i’ve been filled with..vague disquiet. I’ve grappled with regret about a lot of things. Perhaps, for longer than that, maybe the whole year, in my hours of quiet-in the hours before dawn, before I have to be up and about, attending to the demands my world makes of me, i’ve wondered what my purpose here is. Maybe because i’m getting older? Maybe because the year is drawing to a close? I really do not know. I’ve examined my life as a person disconnected, dissociated from myself. I’ve struggled with being who you say I should be-often times failing, and with effort, rising back up to continue.

But perhaps, there lies the problem-struggling in my own strength?

As long as I’ve known, i’ve been taught to believe in you-the one true God. I’ve been taught to fear you. The one who created me, who formed me and knows me even more than i’ve known myself. The one who knows my thoughts before I think them, who knows exactly what i’m capable of. Who provides, who protects. The one I owe my very existence to-beginning from the very air that I cannot see,to water,whose formulation scientists cannot exactly recreate,no matter how hard they try.

I’ve had my doubts about You growing up though. What kind of God are you? Would You who has professed to be Love allow all the pain I see around me?Would You who professed to be love let an innocent baby die of AIDS, or let a ten year old be abused by her brother? You say you are concerned about the little intricate details of my life, yet you would let me ache with so much pain sometimes, I have thought I would die from it. You who say you love me, yet are silent more times than I care to count, in the face of my loneliness, worry and distress-when I need you the most.
You leave me with the uncertainty of not knowing the exact path my life would take.
Most of all,You who profess to love me has left me with this thing you call Free will-a thing i’ve often wondered whether I really need. You act as though your hands are tied by your principles-why give me free will, then? Since you know the heart of every man, you know who will rape who, and who will kill whom, why let it happen, Lord? We hurt each other when we cheat, when we lie, when we are greedy and selfish-and hurting ourselves hurts You-yet you stand there, seemingly helpless to stop the pain and the hurt. Does pain amuse you?
Why can’t you just let us know, Lord? Is it better for people to keep putting their faith and trust in fake pastors and prophets, in fortune tellers, clairvoyants and dibias, in astrology and palm reading? These people-and things who pretend to foretell the future-a future that only you know? These mediums who only gave a false semblance of hope?
You create us with a hunger, with the desire to control what goes on around us, then ask us to love you and trust you that we cannot see or touch?

I’m not sure if I was taught to love you. You are God. All mighty. All everything. What do you need my love for? You made me. I should do whatever you want or say-out of obligation. Love has nothing to do with obedience…not so?

But it is precisely because you are Love that you’ve left me with this, isn’t it? Free will. You, the Creator, me, the created, free,to love and adore my Creator-or not. To pay homage-or not.

Of all your creatures, i’m the one you chose to be allowed to choose if I want to be subject to my creator. I’m the one you chose to fill with your Spirit.
How can you be contained within me-flesh, full of lies and deceit-how can this be the jar you choose to fill up with your power?

I don’t understand you, God. I’ve often times thought that you were quite mad. Often times, i’ve looked in your word, and i’ve found you to be a big paradox. You are a God of justice, but you are also merciful. You are a good of war, but you love peace. You are all knowing, all seeing, all encompassing, all everything. Nothing escapes your watchful eye-not my silent tears, or the collective groaning of humanity under the weight of sin and evil. Not the little boy torn away from his parents in his youth because of wars, or famine, sometimes forced to take up arms in wars he has no business with. Nothing escapes you, Lord. You know and see everything. You OWN everything. Including me.

Yet you want my love-of all things! Your heart craves it!
How? How can anyone as imperfect as me render love unto a perfect God?What sort of God would want love from me??
And, as if that isn’t confusing enough, this one thing that you desire, you decide to give me free rein whether to give to you or not.
Loving You isn’t obligatory, then. I get to choose. Because,unlike everything else, You don’t own my love.

This is what baffles me.

You woo me for this love. Shamelessly. Like a heartsick woman, like a man in love. Even when I’ve scorned you, chasing my own desires and pleasures, you’ve refused to give up.. And like a girl doing shakara, hoard it from you I have. Even when you have shown me the extent of your love-at least shown me what my little mind can take, i’ve thrown it in your face in numerous ways. I’ve wanted to be loved only on my own terms-never mind that what and how I feel are not necessarily barometers of truth or common sense. You want my trust so that you can help run my life and make sure that everything good comes to me-because you know my end from my beginning-yet, even when I wrestle with you for it, you won’t demand it. You want my obedience-so that I can relax in your will and purpose-after all, who knows the purpose of something more than the one who created it? Yet you allow me to do whatsoever I please. You are content to pursue me,doggedly, determinedly, even when I busy my life with unnecessary things, even when I try to drown you out with the constant humdrum of life.

You let me break your heart so many times by my blatant unfaithfulness to you- when you can very easily take me out with a snap of your fingers. You chose to pour your love into me-traitorous, flimsy creature like me! Why, God? Are you so addicted to abuse that you let me do this over and over, and still accept me, used, battered and broken every single time I crawl back?

What kind of God are you, God?

And yet, when I turn to you, my strength is renewed. My hope is replenished. The light in my eyes return. The spring in my step..the joy in my heart…My heart expands and blossoms with so much love. You are there, ever present, to cry with me when I fall and blunder from not listening to you. When I choose to act like a goat or a mule- stubborn, proud, unyielding, you are still patient with me. You pick me up, when I get to the end of myself-when my pain and my suffering drives me right back to You, when I realize-often belatedly, that no one else can love me the way you can, can fill me up the way you do, can make me the person that I ought to be.

I’ve heard it said that in love, what you leave unattended to deteriorates. With you, even when I leave you and pursue other gods-the gods of knowledge and intellect and beauty, of power, pleasure and riches, these gods who satisfy the hunger I feel but only temporarily, who love me only on their own terms(which are, as long as I remain slave to them)whenever I crawl back to you, I find your love to be exactly as it was-perfect ,stable and undiminished by my stupidness and shortsightedness.

You give me so much more than any other gods can.

You prevail.

Precisely because you are God. You are this kind of God. The only kind of God-the one I can’t understand. My faithful lover.

You have taught me about trust-In the darkness of my life, you have whispered your love, you have erased my guilt, and my shame. you have given me your strength. You have brought me up and out of the place of bitterness,anger and rage that I have been in for so long. You have exchanged my fear for faith. Even in my pain, you have converted and used for my good. Even in the hours of doubt, you never leave. You surround me with your presence. Undeserving as I am. Through regret, suffering, and sorrow, you have humbled me,and brought me to my knees, repentant, hungry for your light, and for your love. In serving me, making me Your own, in cleaning up my mess, and taking up my shame, you teach me what it truly is to serve.

I don’t understand you, God. But I am learning to trust. To lean on you. To focus on your Who-ness, so that my Whys don’t hold as much importance. Because the victory isn’t in struggling in my own strength, is it? My struggle remains because I use my limited understanding of what I think you should be to measure who you are. As if I could limit you to my paltry understanding of You. Smh.
No, Its in resting in You-even when my world is falling to pieces. Because nowhere else is as safe as within your embrace. No other voice is as sweet, as soothing as yours. No other words spoken anywhere by any man or woman, can be as loving as the ones you speak in Your word. The one you whisper to my heart when it is so full of doubt-if I will but listen.

You placed the stars in the sky and You know them by name.
Is there anything I have that you have not given me? Beauty, brains, wit. All gifts. The act of learning to trust, to believe, is a gift. From you. All from you.
You know my name.

And that is enough.

Tuesday Morning


Two days ago, I killed someone. Or at least, I tried to.

No, it wasn’t Cupid(Laughing)I’m not writing this from jail..lol..as a matter of fact, Im freer now than I’ve been in a long while.
Okay, I’ll start at the beginning. As always, I’ll ask you to be patient-It will be worth it 😉

A friend needed a favor-she called me Friday last week and asked me to pick up a certificate at the National Hospital for her(She had lived and worked here but had relocated recently,and couldn’t travel back to Abuja just yet). There wasn’t much she required of me-she gave me all the information I needed, and I was to present these at the clinic come Tuesday, and then pick up the certificate.

I agonized all weekend. Would I get lost getting to National Hospital in my car?(Yes, I’m horrible. I had gotten lost once picking up my sister from Apo. In my defense though, it was night, and those roads are really confusing. Don’t ask)Would I get there early enough? Will I get it? I’ll probably spend the whole day there, knowing that this certificate was something that was supposed to be personally collected, I thought. So, I planned to take a book.

Would I be asked to come back the next day? Should I dress casually or..?

Suffice it to say that by the time Tuesday came, I was a mass of nerves. I had worked myself up to this point. So, while I looked calm and collected on the outside, I was as worn and fragile as an old papyrus sheet on the inside.

On getting to the hospital-without being kidnapped by aliens or my car turning into a character from The transformers, I proceeded to the clinic.
It took me less than an hour to get this document, signed, sealed and delivered.

In total-consciously and subconsciously, I had spent nothing less than twenty hours worrying about something that I got done in less than an hour.

Hello, fear.
You may think me a little extreme, but I assure you, its the pure and undiluted truth- Im a person who has made a large majority(in my opinion anyways) of decisions based on fear. As an aside, I was a preemie, and my mother told me that as a little baby, I used to ‘forget to breathe’. Lol. She used to have to spank my little bottom so I was jolted back into remembering to breathe to live. Hehe. Apparently, I’ve been running scared from life from the very beginning. Lol.
Its something I now know to be called ‘sleep apnea’ though, and is common among preemies.

I went to medical school because I was afraid to disappoint and incur the perceived wrath of The Parents. The Daddy,especially. (Uppercase letters, for emphasis.)Ironic isn’t it? People usually think studying medicine arises from courage and a desire to help others. I do want to help others, and I will(I’m a doctor now, thankfully). But I assure you that the primary reason was the fear of disappointing my parents.
This same fear kept me through-and It was rough, I must tell you. Sometimes I wondered what else I would’ve been if not a doctor-but the fear of being anything else completely kept me from even thinking those ‘evil, riotous’ thoughts through. I could’ve found some other things that I would’ve been good at, but I must’ve killed them all even before they took root-my fear was that absolute.

I’ve been in bad, hurtful relationships because I was afraid to be alone. And I’m sure that we can all relate to how fear destroys relationships-jealousy, suspicion, mistrust.

Even though I’d decided for a long time that I wanted to chop off my hair and start growing it from scratch, It took me a long time to actually get it done-partly because I wanted to do proper research on how to wear my natural hair, but partly also because I was scared what my father would think, what my boyfriend(at the time) would think, what everyone would think.
In the end, I chopped it off,they all thought whatever they wanted to think-mostly bad. Didn’t matter-I was happy, and free. Im sixteen months natural today, by the way. Woop Woop! It has NOT been easy, at ALL. But I’ve never regretted it. She is beautiful, she is healthy, she is nappy, and I love her absolutely :p Read here to find out how much.

As long as I remember, Fear has been a faithful companion. My first response to anything new is a ‘No’, or ‘I can’t’. Not because I don’t want to help, but because, I have succeeded in honing the art of being fearful into a sell-worthy skill. With amazing alacrity, I can, within seconds, convince myself of why I should not do something because I know, without a doubt, that I will fail. Successfully destroying its prospects in my head before I even commence. I’ve been afraid to compete at anything- because I have always convinced myself of the futility of trying if I wasn’t sure I would win(as if anyone knows for sure..lol) You may ask if I’ve been living under a rock-If I haven’t watched any movies about fear, or seen people best their demons in real life. But movies..are movies..or so I told myself.

Fear. He lived, breathed and existed in my thoughts, in my dreams, in whatever form that caught his fancy. He reminded me of his faithful presence-in the persistent thoughts of not being good enough, of never measuring up because I could never be good at anything, of always falling short of the mark-reminding me of my past errors and failures and re-iterating that, indeed, I’m really not that awesome. He constantly forced me into Inertia– the ‘what-if’s’ drown out logic and reason whenever I try to start something new,so I don’t bother . Besides, if I do start, would I be able to follow through?
He takes another form called Laziness-he reminds me that since I’m still going to fall short of the mark, there is no need to put in that much effort. He also comes in waves of Anger-I’ve found myself to be quick to anger in the past because things didn’t go the way I expected them to, and I was fearful of the outcome of that.
I’ve been known to be fearful of the outcome of almost everything-whether or not I was sufficiently prepared.
Sometimes, he is insidious- making sure I would concentrate on just how much I don’t do right, instead of remembering my finer points. Other times, he is a roar in my ears, in my head, making sure I hear nothing else and listen to no other voice but his. I became so used to him that I would just usually stand-or, kneel, helpless before his power-a power I fed by constantly yielding.
Indeed, his hold on me was that potent.

My friend does not know it, but on Tuesday, I had to fight the familiar feeling of inertia that Fear brings. I had to fight the little waves of panic in my heart thinking about what lay ahead of me(this was something I’d never done before, which is why fear wanted to convince me,as usual, that I would fail).

But I learnt something about fear.

He is nothing more than a feeling. And all feelings can and should be brought under subjection. We should control our feelings-not the other way around.
He is afraid of action.
He is afraid of calm and calculated thinking.
He is afraid of confidence.
He is afraid of cold, hard facts.
He literally slinks away, like the weasel he is, in the face of laughter, positivity, and hope.
And there is no room for him in the face of Love-I love(d) my friend too much to disappoint her.
I had come full circle, it seems.

Knowledge, they say, makes a man unfit to be a slave. And Love gives a person courage.
I had all these in my arsenal-after fighting the initial wave of inertia.
And when I was done, I realized, as people always do, that fear has got nothing on me. Zilch. Nada. I’ve been his slave too long.
As if I don’t serve a God who has conquered ALL things. Ha! In yo’ face! Msscchheeewwww.

He was subdued,Tuesday. Banished.
And as long as he rears his head, I’ll whip out my arsenal. And banish and destroy him again. And again and again. Whatever that means. By any means necessary.

*Little drops of bliss*

Move aside, fear.
Hello, Life.

#DoingTheGangnamStyle.

The Breaking Forth.


Little One 🙂

I know, I know, you aren’t little anymore 🙂 You are all adult, all woman, all you 🙂 But permit me, just this time..

I cannot begin to describe the myriad of feelings that overtook me when I discovered you were growing inside of me. I’m a doctor, and all, and I know the dynamics of implantation and fertilization of a human embryo…but in med school they don’t tell you anything about the other aspects. They don’t tell you how absolutely confusing..and as time goes on, how absolutely amazing and overwhelming these feelings become! They don’t tell you how protective you become of the little form taking shape inside of you. How absolutely awestruck you are when you see the first ultrasound-and the doctor shows you your baby’s little features. They don’t tell you how you think that every single cell, every tiny chromosome is perfect. 🙂 No, they keep out the best parts.

Of course, there was the acne! Christ I hated it! Seeing as i’ve struggled with it all my life, it shouldn’t have been a biggie..but Oh in pregnancy, it feels like every emotion is amplified..including my hatred for acne.
But you know what? I wouldn’t trade it for the world 🙂 My little girl was coming, and it was worth it 🙂
And my hair! Gosh, my hair became a huge mass of nappiness and curls! I couldn’t get enough of how thick and beautiful it was-and neither could your daddy:) You weren’t even born yet and you already brought us all this wonderful-ness 🙂 I had been the apple of your daddy’s eye, but when we were pregnant for you, he became even more loving, more kind, more considerate. He was and has always been my biggest fan. How much can I say? 🙂
The days turned into weeks…and then into months. We grew bigger and bigger. The first day you kicked was totally mind-blowing! It was a tiny push..I imagine your little fingers curled in fists, reminding me in case id forgotten,that you were real!! As if I could ever forget..lol..

And then you were born. I looked, lovestruck, at the perfection that was you…and all it brought was tears to my eyes. How can this little person belong to me, I thought? What could I have ever done to deserve you? Nothing could compare to the feeling that swelled in my heart when I looked at you. Every push, every painful contraction, every tear..it was all worth it. You looked so much like your daddy…but you looked just like me too. What kind of God made this creature, so beautifully crafted? Every little sound you made, every whisper of your sweet baby breath was precious to me. It was a wonder.

I watched you grow up..like a tiny sapling…you grew..you blossomed before my very eyes. I watched, privileged to be a part of your life, as you developed..with a uniqueness that was entirely yours. Your first day at school..your first scrape, your first pencil drawing..treasured memories, kept deep in my heart. How those beautiful brown eyes lit up when your daddy came back home, because you knew that he would always have a treat for his new favorite little girl(I had lost that position-you were such a charmer!) How you would slip your little hands into mine when we would walk down the aisle in church. How safe and loved that made me feel. How you would, after watching TV, come over to where I sat and make a little bed underneath my skirts and my legs. How hard you made me laugh when you snuck into my room one day, made yourself up, pretty as you please, the way you had seen your mommy do it countless times. Oh, my heart swelled with love. Every time I thought I couldn’t possible love any more, you showed me that my heart could take a little more love. The intensity of my feelings stunned even me and often left me breathless. You were my delight.

The times you got sick, my world seemed like it careened out of control. The time you swallowed a coin I was confused! What to do with you? Lord, that was a distressing time.
The light returned to my world only when your smile returned-that smile that could melt even the toughest of hearts-which always turned me into a puddle. You completely changed my life-in ways I never thought possible. I did not and could never deserve you.

At your tenth birthday, I couldn’t believe how the time had flown by. You had your first period that year. It dawned on me that my little girl was on her way to becoming a little lady. I watched, and partook, of your teenage years. You were struggling with these new developments-your body was changing, as were your emotions. Your gangly frame began to fill out in all the right places. Boys began to matter. Make-up began to become interesting. Oh, and the short skirts. I watched, partly apprehensive and partly in wonderment as you begun to establish yourself..how you began to have opinions, how you realized that indeed I was not perfect and that some of my own opinions were not law..that there was a world outside of me. It was a struggle. To give you up. To watch you grow, and realize that I was not in complete control anymore. I’ve had to watch, almost helplessly as you have made decisions that were guaranteed to bring you pain..but sometimes, this is the only way to learn-from personal experience. But I felt your pain,and cried your tears.

Today, Little One, you turn Eighteen. Legally adult. You are a stunning young lady, just on the threshold of all things great and beautiful. I’ve watched you grow and mature, from unsure, temperamental teen, to elegant, more self assured adult. And my heart is full of thankfulness for you and all you have given to me just by living.

And so, I decided to write you this. As you are at the dawn of the beginning of the rest of your life, I ask you, Little one, to take these along with you wherever you go..:) It is by no means comprehensive, but its what I have, and I have always given you everything.

Never cease to trust God. He is the source of all things good. Believe in Him, always. He will never ever abandon you-even in those times you feel like no one else understands you, He does. He is always there. He will never forsake you. Hold on to Him, and never let go.
Believe in yourself. You are a beautiful lady, inside and out, and you are smart, by any standards. Never let anyone run you down. Remember that you are fearfully and wonderfully made, and God(and your parents) take delight in you. Never sell yourself short. The world is full of people who feel they need to make others feel bad about themselves to feel good. You are so much more than that, my dear. Let the love of God compel you, in everything. Remember how Jesus washed the feet of His disciples? You should always be ready to give of your resources, of your talents,and your friendship. Because giving empowers you to give some more..and givers never lack.

Pick and choose your friends wisely. The company you keep can and will contribute to your character. Do not let yourself be influenced by unruly people….its okay not to go with the crowd. The majority vote isn’t always the right vote. Its okay to have an opinion-even better, a well thought out one..perhaps not on every subject though, as there’s always more to be learnt:)

Let your speech and your general manner always be gracious, my love. A good number of Nigerian girls are so rude and ungracious, and I don’t quite understand why. It is unbecoming of a lady, and you are of different stuff. People deserve to be extended graciousness. You never know how far that little smile you gave to that old lady,or that little bit of information you offered to that young man without him having to go through any humiliation at your hands, would go. Be merciful, always, and be forgiving. Understand the fact that, but for the grace of God, you are nothing, and this should always help you stay grounded. This can only be achieved if you are rooted in God, which goes back to the fact that you need to trust God. Let him be your anchor in this crazy world.

My darling, cultivate kindness in your garden. Never leave the house without the scent of it on you. The world is rife with so much unkindness, that people don’t even really understand the true meaning of the word. Be a beacon that shines in the darkness that pervades this world. Be kind. Even when its difficult, be kind. Be kind to your friends, be kind to your neighbors, be kind to people you don’t even know. And when you are married, be kind to your husband. Be tolerant of other people and their idiosyncrasies-not everyone will be like you, as I’m sure you have already experienced. Nigeria is a country of so many different cultures and peoples. Prejudice never did anyone any good. Tolerate the views of others, including everyone’s respective sexual preferences, but never ever compromise on what you have been brought up to believe is true, and right. Moslems and Christians, we strive to worship God, and to do His will. Tolerate your moslem neighbors as you would your christian. Do not judge-no one is perfect, and every sinner has a future, just as every saint has a past.

Never stop reading- Readers are Leaders. Improve on your knowledge base. Read books that add to you, and busy yourself with things that help improve you. Strive to be useful-to share knowledge, instead of just taking and taking. I didn’t say you should be an over-sabi o! Lol..that can be annoying. But be useful. Add value to those in your life, and those around you, and watch and see how people will seek you out.

Now, about boys, men and sex. You no doubt have a lot of questions, and thoughts on this issue. I’ll try my best to give it a shot. 🙂

Pre-marital sex is a big issue, and even though we have had the birds and bees discussion, I still feel like its important to add a few other things-I don’t want to be like the other mothers who treat the sex talk like its a taboo, when the issues which arise as a result of the failure to talk about it loom and threaten to drown us all.
If and when you get into the position of having to decide whether or not you want to do it, please take note of these little pointers.
Do you want to have sex? Or is it just because your boyfriend wants to?Is it the influence of the media? If everyone thinks its okay, what are their reasons? What’s all the fuss about it?
Sex is overrated. Especially out of marriage. How many people will you have sex with before you are married? Bear in mind that sex is a deeply intimate, deeply personal thing-not something to be taken lightly at all. The ‘after-feelings’-the way you may feel let down afterwards, the way it has of numbing your conscience to how sinful it is, will not be worth it.
Sex is wonderful. But only within the boundaries of marriage. I know this all sounds legalistic to you, but consider the fact that any decisions made based on mere feelings are bound to break down eventually-feelings are too flimsy and too traitorous to base permanent decisions on.
You are a young, beautiful, intelligent lady, who has all your life to have sex(with your husband). Bear in mind that your body and your life are your corporation,where you are CEO,and as such, you should not allow something as lightweight(yes, even though feelings can feel rather heavy..lol) as feelings-which come and go to determine the decisions you make concerning your very expensive, very productive corporation. You call the shots, you determine who stays and who goes. Therefore, anyone who wants to stay and own shares must be held accountable for their actions towards and within your corporation. When we are young, we think we are untouchable..but keep in mind that with every choice comes responsibility. I assure you, for example, that having a child out of wedlock is more difficult than you can ever imagine.

Remember, your love for God is more important than any man, and when you love someone, you don’t intentionally hurt them. You don’t say that, because you know they will forgive you, you push the boundaries of how far they can go, just to see how much they can take. Rather, you do what they ask of you because you love them and don’t want them to be sad. And fornication makes God sad.

Remember also, that there are STD’s to be had-even with the use of protection. If you and boyfriend are oh-so-fired up about having sex , I would advise that both of you take a HIV and Hepatitis B test. If you are both so serious-and yes, these are very serious issues, I want you to be aware of your responsibility towards yourselves, and accordingly, behave like adults. These are real and present dangers, and it wouldn’t do to get anything as permanent as an STD based on something as temporal as feelings. You are a phenomenal lady, and should carry yourself as such. Don’t let anyone bring you down. You are your Father’s daughter-and he holds you in such high regard. Let those standards be the same as the ones you command from the men in your life.

And, my darling one, if you ever fall short, as you will, for that is part of life, remember that God is always able to forgive, and restore you. Mommy will always be your friend and will never ever judge you, because you, my child came from these loins and are a part of me. I love you beyond anything I can ever describe or quantify, and I will never, ever let harm come to you by my actions. There is absolutely nothing you can not speak to me about. Nothing at all. Never forget that.

As you get your driver’s license, you must drive with integrity. Don’t beat the traffic lights-Naija red safety is horrible. Don’t drive on the pedestrian walkways- do not compromise the lives of anyone just because you feel you are in a hurry and need to get someplace. Respect everyone, and do your best to be polite to those you meet. It may seem unnecessary and often times you will meet obnoxious people, who are seemingly undeserving of your graciousness but you are cut of different cloth. Respect Authority,and always do your civic duty to vote,and obey the laws of the land. Preserve your conscience, and your integrity. When these are lost, they are often times very difficult to regain.

Be prudent. Spend wisely. Get into the culture of Saving. It always comes in handy. Take a little portion of your allowance and set it aside. It may seem like its little at first..but little drops make an ocean,right? Keep at it,even when its discouraging. Be consistent- I assure you,it always pays.

Be faithful in all you do. In your relationships, your friendships,and at work. Trust is something that is built over time, with sweat and sometimes tears, even at the work place, and when this is compromised, is often difficult to fix. It becomes like a cracked mirror-never able to be restored back to its original form.

If and when you get your heart broken, and when your expectations are not reached, do not fret, my child. Life is like that sometimes. Dust yourself off and keep moving. As long as there is life, there is hope. You have so much ahead of you, and I cant wait for it to all unfold. I only hope I will be given the chance to experience it all, as your mother, and as your friend. 🙂

But, nothing is impossible with God 🙂 Always maintain a hopeful, positive attitude. Fear God, and hate evil. It may seem like the wicked prosper, but don’t be in a hurry. Your efforts will be rewarded, someday, perhaps not in the way you expect, but it will 🙂 Experience builds our character, and it is my hope that your experiences, as they are wont to do, cause you to be refined, and as you age, become-as wine, more beautiful.

Oh Lord, is that really the time?! Have to run along now, and get ready for work, and make sure that everything’s in place for your little party tonight. Your father has a wonderful gift for you, too, and I can’t wait to watch your eyes light up when he gives it to you 🙂

Happy Birthday, my Beautiful One. I love you something fierce! Your best is yet to come!

Written on 7th November, 2033. 😉

Perjurer.


I HATE CUPID! HE IS A SPINELESS, COWARDLY MORON.

These were my exact thoughts a few days ago. And I’ve had these same thoughts repeated over and over again in my head, these thoughts, yelling and howling like a banshee, refusing to quiet down, almost driving me insane with fury.

Yes, Id literally gone ape-shit(pardon my french) and if you are a little patient with me, I’ll tell you why. But before I do that, I have to give you some background history about this annoying, life-endangering creature. Because if I ever find him, im going to kill him. I’m going to grab him by his feathers, twist them and throw them on the ground, stamp them brutally under my feet, and wreck total and complete havoc. And if I lay a hand on THAT BOW AND  THOSE ARROWS! Oh Lord!

Okay, calm down Ogor. *deep breaths*.

Now, back to the issue at hand. Cupid.

Cupid-In Roman mythologyCupid (Latin cupido, meaning “desire”) is the god of desire, affection and erotic love. He is often portrayed as the son of the goddess Venus, with a father rarely mentioned. His Greek counterpart is Eros. Cupid is also known in Latin as Amor(“Love”). The Amores (plural) or amorini in the later terminology of art history are the equivalent of the Greek Erotes.

Although Eros appears in Classical Greek art as a slender winged youth, during the Hellenistic period he was increasingly portrayed as a chubby boy. During this time, his iconography acquired the bow and arrow that remain a distinguishing attribute; a person, or even a deity, who is shot by Cupid’s arrow is filled with uncontrollable desire.

-Culled from Wikipedia.

Of course you noticed that the last seventeen words of this excerpt was highlighted. Well, you know why? THOSE WORDS ARE THE REASON I NEED TO KILL CUPID!

UNCONTROLLABLE DESIRE???REALLY?? REALLY?? WHO WANTS TO BE LIKE THAT?? WHO WANTS TO HAVE EMOTIONS RACING AND RAGING THROUGH THEM THEY LITERALLY CANT THINK STRAIGHT FOR DESIRE? WHO WANTS TO MAKE DECISIONS CLOUDED BY STUPID, FOOLISH HORMONES, ALL BECAUSE SOME LITTLE BOY FLYING AROUND  NAKED WITH A BOW AND A QUIVER FULL OF ARROWS DECIDES TO UNLEASH HIS POISON AND VENOM UPON YOU,(DID I ASK TO GET SHOT??) AND THEN (GET THIS PART), HE FLIES OFF AND LEAVES YOU ALL BY YOURSELF TO HANDLE THE CONSEQUENCES OF HIS OWN ACTIONS-ALL IN THE NAME OF CAUSING ME TO LOVE BLINDLY, UNCONTROLLABLY,AND STUPIDLY??? WHAT IS THIS STUPID DESIRE ANYWAY???

AND THE WORST OF IT ALL, WHY IS THIS STUPID DESIRE, WHICH CONSTANTLY LEAVES ONE WEAK AND BONE TIRED, BATTLE SCARRED AND WEARY, CONFUSED WITH THIS THING CALLED LOVE?? Desire isn’t love…or is it?

Is it?

*confused face*.

As you have probably guessed by now, I was in a bit of a tiff, to put it mildly, and I was not doing a really good job of handling it. Heck, I wasn’t handling it at all. So, here’s what happened. I went back to my manual, my Book of Books, my ever-reliant, faithful friend and companion. Yes, you got it right-My bible! And I went straight to my Love manual. 1Corinthians 13.

No, it isn’t because I havent read this chapter before. I have, so many times. But when God wants to open your mind…men, He brings in the works. Drum roll, blinding lights, everything. Illumination right there. He blew me away, and in such a simple way, too.

It was a mini-epiphany.

You see, I used to think and believe that love is pain,and vice versa. Every single one of us, in one way or another, has been conditioned to believe this. But on this fateful day, I was reading …and something whispered in my heart,and said,do you see anything about Love being pain here?

That made me sit up. Literally. And really read it again. Word for word. Verse for verse.
And there was NO pain there. No hint. in my love manual, it says nothing about uncontrolled desire. And this is where a lot of us get it wrong(myself inclusive). This is why a lot of us exist in a state I like to call ‘un-love’. A state i’ve been in for so long I didn’t realise it ’til only a little while ago.

Dont take my word for it. Find it for yourself and read it.

What we call Love, is just us masquerading to take,take and take some more.
Without sacrificing,and giving, as Love should be.

There is NO pain in Love.

When there is pain,someone isn’t loving right. Period.
Every time God cries in the bible,its because Israel wasn’t loving Him back.
Every time we hurt someone,its because we aren’t loving them proper.

Think about it for a minute or two. Every time you’ve cried out in pain, in the name of love, it was because you were scorned in the name of love. Every time you’ve felt your heart twist in your chest, every time you’ve felt that heaviness, the ache, the pain that’s so pathognomonic for heartbreak, its because Love wasn’t done right. It may have been your own expectations of love that hurt you-but if you examine those expectations, and they didn’t tally with what Love should be, then it would hurt.

Love is PERFECT. Any other rendition of it is counterfeit.
We are the imperfect ones. And we blame Love for our folly and mistakes.
Love takes many forms-all of them active. When we love-we do not demand. We are polite. We are considerate. We are patient. We protect. We forgive!

Love is NOT the passive reception of compliments, and gifts, without a move to giving back. its not the uncaring-ness of one person for another. Its not in the ignorance of the hurts and pains and needs of others. Its not in trampling people’s egos and self-esteem because we can’t be bothered. Love is not desire-desire seeks to slake its own thirst-it seeks to burn and scourge everything in its path-because it does not CARE how its needs are met and thirst slaked-it just KNOWS that its desires must be quenched. No matter the cost.

And,this isn’t just in boy-girl relationships.
It’s in real, lasting friendships.
It’s in how we are kind to people we don’t even know.
How we have a smile for people-even those who don’t smile back.

When you love someone who has nothing you want…that’s Love.
Did I call it a mini-epiphany? It was more than that.
It completely changed my view.

Love,like grace,is scandalous,unbelievable, undeserved. It is not conditional on anything and/or anyone. It should just BE. Tall order, but do-able order. ‘Worth-able’ order.

That, friends, is Love. Shikena.

Like I knew all along, Cupid is a big fat falsifier. Do not let yourself be deceived by his antics!

Love, Love, And #LoveSomeMore. It is a matter of life and death.

PS-Anyone who knows Cupid had better tell him-in case he has forgotten, that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. *straight face*. I will get him. and i will crush his bow and arrows and scatter them onto the sea. He had better run. If he knows what’s good for him he’d better attain The Fugitive status.

sOmEtHiNg GoD cAnNoT dO.


When I was reading the story of the Exodus, one line was repeated in as many chapters-how God hardened Pharaoh’s heart against the Israelites. It begun to feel like God was so selfish and ‘glory-seeking’ that he continually hardened Pharaoh’s heart just so He could be shown to be the biggest boss there is..lol(as if that’s up for contesting). I mean, if God makes you do something, you really don’t have a choice…right? If God hardens your heart..its hardened..right?

In musing, though, I sort of got to thinking that Pharaoh just might have put himself in this situation. Truth is, God has ultimately given each and every single one of us this strange thing called free will-in all of His mightiness and His ability to do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING, The big, glorious, fire-spitting warrior God is UNABLE to (yes, I said God’s unable to do something..lol..) force us to love Him. Or force us to do anything, for that matter. Yes, its true. He loves us too much to even try to force anything upon us. That’s a decision that we have to take entirely by ourselves.

So, I say that, if Pharaoh decided that his heart wouldn’t be hardened, even God wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. #I’mJustSaying, and I stand to be corrected.God may have had to find another way to show off his ‘Who-ness’..lol..point is, it was up to Pharaoh for it not to be at the expense of him, his country, his chariots and his horsemen. Because, even in this same story, every time that Pharaoh made a show of ‘relenting’ and letting the Israelites go, he asked Moses to pray for him to his God to forgive him, and every time Moses did, God pardoned him. Every time. So basically, this was just a game to Pharaoh. Since this God will always forgive me every time I ask, he thought, then I can harden and un-harden my heart every time I want.

Most of us know how that particular story ended…If you don’t, I’ll be glad to direct you to The story of the parting of the red sea in Exodus-even google can tell you all about it..lol..

There comes a time, when the choices made are final, even the ones made by not choosing.

In the end, the choice, then, really, is yours.

Waiting for The world To fall.


Today, I felt like dying.

Just so I can experience, in fullness, the Presence of God.

Earth..gives me everything as through a dusty mirror.

Dying reveals everything.

 

Today, I felt like dying.

In this moment, like no other, nothing here holds any allure.

My life..feels like it is full and empty.

Surely death will be more fulfilling?

 

Maybe today, I might die.

But maybe, hopefully maybe, it will be more than just the physical.

Maybe today, I realised how much I need to die to self.

For surely, in that dying, even more will be revealed.

 

I hope I can die, today.

Perspective.


I’ve often heard people talk about how misunderstood they are. How nobody ever really gets them. How people talk bad and say untrue things about them, because they dont really understand them. Heck, i’ve said these very same things myself, in situations where ive heard negative stuff being said about me, by people I thought knew me.(dont ask). I’ve been told, time and time again that ignoring these people and these things is usually the best way to move forward, but if youve ever been in these shoes, where you know that things which are obviously untrue are being said about you, my dear, you and I know that it stings. Even worse when you have an inkling that something you said to a supposed friend or ally was taken out of context, ergo all the bad talk. It stings. Some more than others-point is, it sha hurts..lol.. And we have all been in these shoes, at one point or another, so we know how much it hurts.
Sooooooo, being misunderstood is now a sort of status symbol. I mean, people will always misunderstand others, right? Because people dont always have enough information. Even when they do, you can not really ever predict what a person does with information-how they understand it and/or disseminate it. So, it seems that, in a weird, twisted way, because people will always misunderstand you, its cool to be misunderstood(hehe..im sure y’all are tired already of how many times ive used the word already :p. Patience, my people, patience. Im getting to my point-and its a really valid one. Trust me :))
Okay, but can we really say that, being misunderstood is entirely the fault of other people? Our actions will ALWAYS stand up for or against us, as will our words. Most people get to know us from the things we say, how we say them, and how we do things. I know that my sister is meticulous not because she is my sister, but because you can never meet an item of hers out of place. She is a neat freak. She didnt have to tell me that-I observed it from her actions.
Jesus was misunderstood. He was called a madman, a prophet, a man empowered by the prince of demons, even. People didnt get him. And I dont blame them- its easy for us present day Christians, who have had Christianity served up to us on a ‘relative’ platter, not to even think about eating someone’s flesh and drinking someone’s blood-which is what he told them to do! Think about it-would you willingly eat human flesh and drink human blood? How could he have talked so casually about destroying their temple-the symbol of their faith! A temple it took about 30 or so years to build? Yet this man talked about destroying the temple and restoring it in three days. THREE DAYS! What was he on about???
He healed the sick-then told them not to tell anyone. He spoke about God as His own personal father-to a people who, from their history, God was a consuming fire, a fearful presence, a person they SHOULD be afraid of, a person who struck someone dead because he reached out to help adjust the ark of the covenant when he thought it was falling. Imagine! Granted, he did other awesome things, like rescuing them from Egypt and all, but please! This was a fearful God! And this man came with his words about God being His father, and how He is the Son, and other such madness. Really?? Really?? Personally, ive come to believe that if I was in Jesus’ time, I would have been in the group who believed He was mad.
But He either had to have completely lost His marbles, or everything He said had to have been the absolute, undiluted truth. There was no middle ground for Jesus. You were either COMPLETELY for Him-Sold out in every possible way, or you were not. Period.
Which partly brings me to my point(haha!yes, I said partly! Patience…:;). The man could not be misunderstood to belong here. .He was misunderstood as everything else, but definitely Not Of This World. He was definitely something else, apart from ordinary. Because even being ‘mad’ isnt ordinary. Being a prophet isnt, either. And being a devil isnt. These three groups of people represent people with some sort of power(yes, try fighting with a mad man. You will be schooled). He was different. Period. Different from the prophets who walked in His day-and they were many. The man spoke with unshakeable authority. Charisma oozed out of Him. You could not listen to Him and remain the same. He left you feeling confused, angry, even, shaken to your very core. It all depended on what you did with these feelings. But you could not swat him away like a bothersome fly. You could not ignore Him-not for very long. Not in that time, and not in this, either.
Tomorrow, I’ll continue from here…(dodges shoe, slap and hot water) I just dont want to make y’all read for too long! Hehe..KIDDING!
Lol! 
Okay, continuing…
On Sunday, my perspective on the scripture where Jesus asked His disciples who people said He was forever altered-courtesy my priest(and the Holy Spirit).
Its a common enough scripture(Matthew 16v13-16,Mark 8v27-30, Luke 9v18-20,)-Jesus asked what the people were saying about Him. Most of us know that He wanted to know mostly what the disciples thought-and Simon Peter spoke up as inspired by the Holy Spirit on behalf of the other disciples, saying that He was(is) the Christ, the son of God. Bravo!
But do we also know, that He was asking for feedback? Yes. Feedback from the people He preached to. Yes. Feedback to know whether His words were causing any impact. Whether people were beginning to think differently. Feedback to know if He was passing across the message He came to bring-that He had come for the purpose of His Father, to liberate people from the bondage of sin, to bring the true way and truth and life, that He was a sacrifice for us.
Yes, he was asking for feedback because He CARED what people thought about Him. Yes! That word! Cared what people thought! Yes! He wanted to make sure that people KNEW who He was for. That He was shaking things up and not maintaining the status quo. Uh-huh.
Yes, He cared what people thought about Him. There, I said it.
And, yes, you should care what people think about you. There is the crux of my matter. You should care. And no, not because what they will say or think will always be good. But because, you want to know that the message you are preaching with your life is the right one. That you are being an ambassador for the right cause. And in case you dont know who an ambassador is, i’ll tell you.
Ambassador-The highest ranking diplomat who represents a State and is usually accredited to another sovereign state, or International organization.
Ambassadors are appointed.
And, let me tell you something, if you are Christian, you are appointed. To represent the State of Heaven, to the State of Earth.
And since they are two different states, that do not run on the same principles(as the state of Mali does not have the same principles as the state of Nigeria),your representation here on earth is all that people can and WILL see and work with. It is your representation that will give them a clue of what your Country(State) is about.
THIS is why you should care. This is why you should be concerned with what people think about you.
THIS is why you should care whether you are misunderstood.
People should not wonder if you are Christian. They should KNOW with absolute certainty.
And if they dont, you have work to do. We have work to do.
Who do people say YOU are?

Merciful-Which I am not.


I have been alternating between being upset and feeling down since yesterday. The reason is that, my dearest father, whom I love with aaaaaallllll my heart(Rolling My Eyes),Who, in the words of my sister, is the one man who is fundamentally able to affect me,even more than I can say, said things to me that he has no right to say.

So, I prayed to God for forgiveness. I prayed also, for God to help me forgive him. Prayed to let go, asked for the Holy Spirit to help me,and all that jazz.
And my mind was cast back to the story in the Bible of the charade that was Jesus’ unjust trial, death sentence and crucifixion.
Now,In all of the ‘proceedings’ of that dark thursday night slash wee hours of friday morning, we are told that, even though he had been unjustly accused, and  unfairly treated, He never even expressed anger. On the cross, at the height of probably one of the most excruciatingly painful deaths to die, the man was still forgiving people! He prayed that those who crucified Him should not be held responsible for their deeds because in His words, they ‘did not know what they were doing’. *straight face*. 
WHAT!!
He did nothing to these people! I’ve been foaming at the mouth because my father upset me, and people,’ let me understand you something'(caribbean for let me tell you something), my thoughts towards him at the time were not good o!  I am even partly  responsible for him insulting me. Yet, this Jesus, who had done nothing wrong, whose main crime lay in existing and telling the truth, got hurt so bad. And all He could was pray for them?? 
Sigh.I have a long way to go.
P.S- Anyone who dares think of Christianity as a bread and butter religion had better think again. Nothing about it is remotely simple. Try doing the things this man did. Forget Nigerians who seem to portray God as their own personal puppet(http://dailytimes.com.ng/opinion/how-worship-nigerian-god.) They are all jokers.

Sigh.