who am i?

"I write for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself." - CS Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms

Thursday, July 22, 2010

The Love Story

I’m not the girl who falls in love. I’m the girl who has major crushes and moves on. But this was love quite all right. It was the stark raving mad kind of love. Yeah, he was fine, yeah he was bloodily rich. People referred to him as a prince. His dad was one of those high chiefs/kings . So maybe all the perks helped a little, but oh my, dude was the sweetest most humble of them all. My feelings were definitely beyond his looks and pocket and overall perfection.
He’s the sort of guy everyone falls in love with, I couldn’t imagine what he saw in plain old me.

My life changed with him in it. We were in sync, I backed out of things he didn’t like me doing, cut off from friends he felt were bad influences, our PDA was almost too consuming, always whispering to him words only he understood. that man knew how to make a woman feel loved. Morning, afternoon and evening was something special and sweet written just for me, one-liners, whole pages, a story that always spoke directly to my heart. He was my first call everyday and every night he was the ears that listened to me talk myself to sleep. In the afternoons I sneaked calls to him to tell him how much I loved him.
Have you heard me sing before? Well you’d hate it, but this man, he loved it when I sang for him, he listened like I was the best singer in the world, some days I danced into the night with or for him. Those were days of perfection. I had so much peace with him, but I was becoming one of those girls…you know those that go crazy in love that they don’t fit into the world anymore? Those my friends and I gossiped, mocked and made jokes about, no more fun nights out, I was too busy with mi love. I was no more popular especially at the hot spots, no more at the events, the little social fire I had burning was slowly ebbing out. I was just ‘the girl he loved’ now. Thus I decided to take things slow, people were starting to talk, and you know how we hate it when people talk, don’t you?

And take things slow I did, more like try to shoo him off like I do with my crushes. It was too consuming for me, or so I thought. From whispering every moment to him to not even giving him a nod of acknowledgement, to blocking out his desperate but calm whispers of love, to dreading his letters, the once sweet words were now like chunks of bitter herbs to me. they only seemed to highlight how wrong I was even though they were the same old sweet words.
I cheated on him, betrayed his trust, and abused his love. Made his family and friends wonder why he still hung on to me.
I used him when I wanted, like days when I needed his money and his family connection, or days my leg hurt, and I needed him to rub my back the way only he knew how to, days I was sad, days the world seemed blue, I would come crying to him and he would rock me to sleep in his arms, that peaceful familiar arm of strength and I’d know everything would be okay. Of course that little fox that loves to ruin the garden of love would visit and in the morning I was back to being the mean lover i was. I cringe at what I put him through, the pain, the hurt, the shame. I pushed him to the limit any human would have cracked at, but there he was, his beautiful eyes lighting up for me when I bothered to visit. I knew he was hurt but I was past caring, I had hurt him too much to go back to that place we were at the beginning, o how I wanted to be there, but my shame wouldn’t even let me soften up to him, my shame took me farther away, my shame made me hurt him more, just waiting for him to reach his limit and dump me.

We had a routine I still kept up with. We went to his fathers the king/chiefs at oniru twice a week. On Tuesday evenings for dinner and Sunday mornings for breakfast. On these days I would grudgingly dress up in my best outfit not wanting to go, but feeling obliged to, the least I could do for him for defending me when his family asked him to leave me. I always ended up having the best of times, with the other family members and friends who were invited. Whenever I saw how much they loved my charming loving dude, I would get aggressively jealous, I would whisper and scream telling him how much I loved him, just for the show of it, just so they wouldn’t get to judge me or label me nasty or take him away from me(you see I’m that confused, I didn't want him but I wanted him). I would make sure I danced with him…..i didn’t want to loose his love to those who seemed to show more emotions than I did. I would hug him and kiss him and listen to him talk, as mesmerized with his words as the other guests ….we would laugh, and we would be the cute loving couple again. Till of course he drops me off, gives me the goodnight kiss, and with the morning light i'd be mean ol me again.

Oh that man really loved me….no one would or will have coped with my attitude for so long. Have you ever been so loved that you feel it in your spirit, soul and body? I messed up what i had because I was scared I’d be labeled as a weak weird girl, who fell in love and ruined her life. I preferred to be popular in town than be safe and pampered in his arms.

My miserable self wanted to free my spirit again, allow myself to accept Love, the purest pleasure of life without prejudice. I wanted those days back. I just had the worst day ever. the people I tried to impress by being tough on the best thing that ever happened to me were all a bunch of selfish fools, no good. Why did it take me so long realize this truth? We clubbed together, we drank together, we gossiped together, we did all those things together but we were no more than strangers. We didn’t love ourselves. They would gladly put a knife in my back and drag me to hades just to save themselves. i didn’t want to wake up in ten years alone, dying from some mistake I made with my ‘friends’. i wanted my love so bad.

Thus after this epiphany, I rushed over to his fathers, it was a friday, they'd be having some family dinner. i was going to fall at his feet, soak him up with my tears of sorrow, beg him to forgive me. I panicked, Not sure if he'd be nice to me, not like i deserved it. i said some nasty things to him a few hours earlier, was that the last straw that would break his love?

I rang the doorbell, feeling like an intruder in that house of love, I fidgeted, wanting to run back, but the door opened before I could, it wasn’t the butler, it was my love himself, how his eyes lit up, and the sight of it drowned the darkness of what i felt, and even before I could say a word, he pulled me to him and held me in his arms as I cried my shame away, all the words i wanted to say lost in my tears,but i didn't have to say anything, the way he held me told me he knew. He smiled and then he laughed,oh he laughed a sound so sweet ….
‘don’t cry, I’ll always love you, I’ll never leave you, even if you push me away, I’m close by, waiting for you to come back to me. my love is sufficient to drown your imperfection and mistakes,I don’t love you less than the first day I met you”

That man, my lover, my friend, my king. I’ll never leave him anymore, I’ll go crazy for him, I’ll gladly be called weird and be ignored cos I spend too much time with him and time talking about him on fb, twitter, bbm, I don’t mind being put in the dog house, as long as I’ve got him by my side, That man Jesus…he sure knows how to love, and I’m basking in his love. My love can never be measured to his, but I’ll try my best.

I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can’t, and life can’t. The angels can’t, and the demons can’t. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, and even the powers of hell can’t keep God’s love away. Whether we are high above the sky or in the deepest ocean, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)
its up to us to be willing to accept this special love, cos its just there waiting for us to acknowledge it.
1 Corinthians 13:1-13 . . . Love is patient and kind . . . Love does not demand its own way . . .
Love never gives up….thus he keeps knocking, the more you push the more persistent he is. Because that’s what he is, he’s Love and love is patient. His grace is more than we can ask for. given freely to those willing to accept it. thats why as imperfect as we are, as often as we nail him back to the cross and hurt him, he still welcomes us back when we turn back to him.

Sometimes it gets old and boring,if we don't constantly fuel the fire of love....by spending time together and praying etc. the excitement of the first few months and years are lost on us, thus we find ourselves sliding away, if we're not careful we end up being the mean lovers. Gods warning us about that, to keep watch, to guard our hearts so we don't loose out completely.
Look how far you have fallen from your first love! Turn back to me again and work as you did at first. If you don't, I will come and remove your lampstand from its place among the churches. revelation2:5

The bible is one of his precious gifts to us, cos its straight from his mouth to our ears. You find the kindest, truest most loving, and enlightening words in there, that directs, that comforts, that encourages, that teaches you everything, to love, to pray, to have faith,to recieve peace, to be happy, to be patient, to care…. its that love letter that speaks straight to my heart.

I am the girl that Jesus loves and I’m proud to be his.

i used oniru, not because of the royal family but cos my church city of David is located in oniru estate. we have sunday morning service 7.30am and 10.30am and midweek service on tuesdays by 6.30pm. come if you can to experience some real love:)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

emotional Idiot

I'm an Emotional Idiot
so get away from me.
I mean,

Wait, no,
that's too close,
give me some space
it's a big country,
there's plenty of room,
don't sit so close to me.

Hey, where are you?
I haven't seen you in days.
Whadya, having an affair?
Who is she?
Come on,
aren't I enough for you?

You're so cold.
I never know what you're thinking.
You're not very affectionate.

I mean,
you're clinging to me,
what am I, your &@$%*^ cat?
Don't rub me like that.

Don't you have anything better to do
than sit there fawning over me?

Don't you have any interests?
Sailing Fly fishing

There's an archeology expedition leaving tomorrow
why don't you go?
I'll loan you the money,
my money is your money.
my life is your life
my soul is yours
without you I'm nothing.

Move in with me
we'll get a studio apartment together, save on rent,
well, wait, I mean, a one bedroom,
so we don't get in each other's hair or anything
or, well,
maybe a two bedroom
I'll have my own bedroom,
it's nothing personal
I just need to be alone sometimes,
you do understand,
don't you?

Hey, why are you acting distant?

Where you goin',
was it something I said?
What did I do?

I'm an emotional idiot
so get away from me
I mean,
by Maggie Estep
oh women, what do we do with you?

Monday, July 12, 2010

P.O.W: Prisoner Of Words

photo credit:theinsanityreport.com
I am a big fan of def poetry jam. sometimes it gets too deep for me i find myself drowning in it, sometimes its so funny i spend my time laughing, other times there are tears as words so true are spilled out. i decided to share Alicia keys piece here because its something most if not all of us can relate too. Most times, we kill ourselves by choking on our unsaid words because its not expected of us, we don't know what people will think,thus we shut up even when it comes to the little things; i love you, Jesus loves you, i miss you, i want some more,i don't like it, NO, thank you, sod off:) it gets nastier, it gets nicer but we just never get to say them. Enjoy.

I'm a prisoner
Of words unsaid
Just lonely feelings
Locked away in my head
I trap myself further
Every time I stay quiet
I should start to speak
But I stop and stay silent
And now I've made
My own hard bed
Inside a prison of words unsaid
I am a P.O.W.
Not a prisoner of war
A prisoner of words
Like a soldier
I'm a fighter
Yet only a puppet
Mostly I only say
What you wanna hear
Could you take it if I came clear?
Or would you rather see me
Stoned on a drug of complacency and compromise
I guess that's what I am
Scraping this cold earth
For a piece of myself
For peace in myself

It'd be easier if you put me in jail
If you locked me away
I'd have someone to blame
But these bars of steel are of my making
They surround my mind
And have me shaking
My hands are cuffed behind my back
I'm a prisoner of the worst kind, in fact
A prisoner of compromise
A prisoner of compassion
A prisoner of kindness
A prisoner of expectation
A prisoner of my youth
Run too fast to be old
I've forgotten what I was told
Ain't I a sight to behold?

A prisoner of age dying to be young
To my head is my hand with a gun
And it's cold and it's hard
Cause there's nowhere to run
When you've caged youself
By holding your tongue

I'm a prisoner
Of words unsaid
Just lonely feelings
Locked away in my head
It's like solitary confinement
Every time I stay quiet
I should start to speak
But I stop and stay silent
And now I've made
My own hard bed
Inside a prison of words unsaid
by Alicia Keys

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Spoilt for choice...

photo credit:www.cattilacstyle.com
Its one of those days again. I stand in frustration in the midst of discarded clothes. I don’t know what to wear. I haven’t been out in ages. Now I have to go through the annoying rituals again.
Days before I had it all planned out, the resonate blue Rock&Republic jeans and the tiffany amber pink top. Well we have the resonate and over five pairs of jeans discarded; all my republics failed to rock your body right, the religions failed to be true and the seven for all mankind just felt like plain number one for no mankind on me. Feels like my body somehow transformed over night, all the right curves going in the wrong places.

The tiffany amber is buried under a purple mango dress that was discarded just after the grey skirt and the black top, right next to the sagoe pants. Everything I tried seemed so wrong; the whole wardrobe is turned upside down. I’m already sweating despite the heavy blast of the ac. I look at my many many clothes and shoes, some really expensive, some as cheap as you can get them….all useless at this moment. What was i thinking when i purchased them?

I really should have just made my mom proud and joined the convent, be a nun and wear a habit all day. Then i wouldn’t have to spend money on clothes I can’t wear when I need them.
In frustration i discard the blue vintage top, it lands on the red shoes and the dereon skirt narrowly misses the never been worn tiffany amber maxi dress in the corner, bought a year ago, tag still intact. I reach for my housecoat, the cool silky cloth feels good on my body, at least that’s one expensive purchase that’s serving me right. I go down to get a drink, pick up a book, step on some of the clothes as i try to find my way to the bed, push all the discarded clothes that were lucky to land on the bed to the floor, switch off my phone to avoid irritating calls of ‘where are you?” And life isn’t so bad anymore.
Searching for the perfect outfit for a wedding, a red carpet event, a date or even just an evening out with your friends is sometimes one of the hardest things ever. Not because you have nothing to wear but because nothing seems to be right for that moment. Like the hilarious delectable Tracy Martins a bona-fide wag of luton town said in the book the wag diaries by Alison Kervin
“ ……..ludicrously over stuffed walk in wardrobe, so its not like I don’t have anything to wear-it just seems that way sometimes. Most times, when I look at my wardrobe with more clothes in it than the average departmental store, I don’t think there are no clothes in there, that would be plainly absurd, I think there are no clothes in there that I can put on and feel like a million dollars and be guaranteed to look like the best in the room tonight. What I mean, as every woman means when she moans about having nothing to wear, is that in the wardrobe, there is not the answer to all dreams, there is not the outfit to transform me. There is not a piece of clothing in there that is absolutely right for this particular event. And such is the power of advertising that when I buy clothes or even see clothes in shop windows, I do believe in some small part of me that they will do that…they will make me feel perfect”
Our help once told me, the only reason i say i don’t have anything to wear is because i have so much to choose from, if i had just a suitcase of clothes then i wouldn’t worry myself so much, because my choice is limited to what’s in the suitcase. I wasn’t too happy with him for saying that to me, I just felt he wanted me to give him more clothes for his sister. Well years later, his words make more sense to me. When you’re spoilt for choice, you become confused and disgruntled.
Its like when you’ve got men hovering over you, and more than one of them kissing the ground you walk on, you get confused, spoilt for choice, thus undecided and you kind of miss your big break when the best of men is dangled in your face. Everywhere you turn is someone with something to offer, whispering sweet nothings with mega phones, writing poetry, buying gifts, just showing off a lot of macho stuff. Dude 1 has A and B qualities you like but dude 2 has C, E and F qualities and doesn’t sing as good as 1, while dude 4 has ACBEFGHJ qualities but picks his nose in public. It gets so daunting, you don’t know who to choose, cos like your clothes, they all looked good on the mannequins, but they just don’t work in the long run when you need to wear them. Like Meredith put it in greys anatomy when she had to choose between Derek and Finn, its hard choosing between three people you actually like, cos you wonder, is the third one the right one.
And so with all that confusion you go home, wear your robe and sleep, forget about relationships as much as you can…Like the help said, if you had just one suitcase, it would be easier to know what you want. If I had just two lurking around, it might have been easier to choose between the two.
PS...I'm not relationship obsessed, i always find myself writing about it cos no one understands why i'm still single,thus its a conversation i have every day or every other day. i might as well write about it if i'm bugged about it.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

the big 25!!!

its my birthday!!!!
i've been so overwhelmed with the love i've received so far, shed a few tears and all the mushiness I'm not known for. And my nieces made me love them more by calling and singing to me. Above all i've been so excited about the prayers that have been said for me by more than one person, they all go in one direction, that's a confirmation of the promises i have.
there's no parry today, although a friend is throwing one on Friday, so i'll be there. And typical me, I'd rather stay home.
25 is the new number. Half way to fifty, depending on how I'm viewing the glass. its a new season.
where do i see myself in five years time? that's the golden question i hate to answer. I'm done with all the fancy answers that make people so impressed. the truth is i don't know. It’s not because i’m not ambitious, its far from it, its because words cant describe what i imagine, and from experience I know that the imagination always turns out to be less than the reality, no matter how colorful the imagination may be. Thus its best left unsaid. In other words...i expect the great unexpected.
the latter will surely be greater than the past 25years.
loads of stuff have been thrown my way to make me stop and think, and I’ve realized that I'm more than what I've always seen myself to be. I am an oil field of potential and I’m extremely blessed.These past few months of seemingly idleness has been my exploration period. Oil will soon be stuck and the drilling would begin.
It takes but rushing out to get Tylenol from the drug store around the corner, to attending a cocktail to going out with friends to the beach, to smiling back at the stranger in church to take me to an unexpected and worthwhile path, these random people I meet are certainly not random, cos somehow an opportunity comes out from it all. I'm not the smartest girl in the planet, or the prettiest, of the best educated but like uncle Solomon says
"I have observed something else in this world of ours. The fastest runner doesn’t always win the race, and the strongest warrior doesn’t always win the battle. The wise are often poor, and the skillful are not necessarily wealthy. And those who are educated don’t always lead successful lives. It is all decided by chance, by being at the right place at the right time.” ecclesiastics 9:11 

Somehow these random people know someone who knows someone and there I am knowing the other someone who knows someone. I just happen to be at the right place at the right time. i call that favor, i call that grace...I hope to keep climbing the ladder, keep walking towards the light. Gods been with me, he's worked on me in ways so mysterious, on the other side of 25, he gave me some major breakthroughs which i misused, but he used them to teach me lessons. I'm glad i went through all those issues, cos its better to be a young fool than an old fool. i know not to make the same mistakes. He knows the plans he has for me thus who am i to tell him what to expect in five years? I can only voice out what I hope my expected end will be, I refuse to short change myself by naming places so low in the ladder. i.e Say a food hawker cries to God for a stall in the market, when Gods plan for her is to own a restaurant in some nice part of town. I refuse to set a standard that is so short of what God has in store for me. 
five years from now? i’d be closer to the light, close enough to see my path and know where the next perfect turn leads. settled with my husband and kids,doing that which the maker has placed in my heart to do and doing it well, I hope to be highly successful, through what deal or in what field, I know not. who knows? When he pushes me right, i go right even though i see more gold at the left. what can i say, he's God, he's got to know what he's doing. He's the one who's promised an expected end, thus he knows how to get me there and everyone else who sets their sight on him.
I can't paint pictures of expectations, i don't have the right colors. the canvas may seem bare now, but who says that's not the whole idea. i am a vessel, grooming and waiting to be made into what i ought to be.
happy birthday to me.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

You don't have to get me anything

I love gifts. But I hate been asked what I want. It kills a little fun out of receiving, that hot extra spice of surprise. Added to the fact that I never always know what I want.

Its my birthday on tuesday, and I've been asked again and again what I want....I'm on auto response "you don't have to get me anything" cos really you don't have to get me anything. its not an obligation except you family or my boyfriend or you're in the class of best friend.
I once told a friend I wanted this gorgeous dress I saw at leila fowler, he ended up giving me the money to get it myself cos he was sure he'd pick the wrong one even after I described it to him. I never bought that dress...thus I don't look in my wardrobe and think how sweet a friend cos there's no dress hanging there as proof. I used the money on something I can't remember,lunch here, fuel there and all the petty things.
So you see, that's why I'd rather have them pick something out even if they're clueless, at least I have something to laugh,cry,aww or sulk over depending on how the gift turns out.

I wish birthdays were like weddings where you open a gift registry in stores and have people do something. I can't think of what I want. I already bought myself my birthday gifts on friday, I'll be acting surprised when I see them again on tuesday. My sister already got me something I really really need. I think I'm content to an extent. But here's a bit of what I'd like
- A full option gift certificate to a spa,barazahi to be precise(facials,marine body wrap,herbal massage,thai manicure and pedicure)
- A Nixon D90 camera
- The bible experience dvd
- Pryor Convictions by Richard pryor
- A new phone
Seriously I can't think of that much material things I'd like. Of course there are lots more I want, but I just can't be bothered. Whatever comes is fully appreciated. But most of all I need
A hug that'll last for ever,if ever there was one. I just need some sort of comfort that'll pierce straight into my heart and a prayer so sincere and deep.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device from MTN
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