who am i?

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

Thursday, March 29, 2012

My mourning, my dancing...

He was my light and my sunshine; my heart was brighter than the sun has ever shone on the day I first held him in my arms. His eyes was the switch that turned on the sparkles in my life. I saw life in beautiful colors the day he was born. He was my comfort, my friend, my companion, my son, my life line… my everything. The only reason I chose to live after his father died...
Oh, what a tragedy, loosing the love of my life, the man who stole my love, became my husband, showed me gentleness and passion, made me glow and made my heart dance with his poetry… the day he died felt like the worst day of my life. If only I knew there’d be a day worst than that, I would never have mourned so hard. If I knew I would hold the lifeless body of my son, the sunshine of my life, I would have saved my grief for that moment. The moment i never imagined would come, the moment i languished in.
My tears had failed me; I was a walking and talking zombie. I walked with the procession to the funeral… Why couldn’t I drop dead? Why couldn’t I be lifted up and carried away with my son. My precious boy… Why wouldn’t he open his eyes and make me sparkle again? Why wouldn’t he sneeze and laugh at me, tell me it was one of his silly pranks… why wouldn’t his kiss wake me up from that nightmare? why wouldn't he make the ache in my heart stop?
I hated the sound of the women wailing, I hated the sound of the funeral song, high pitched and off key. I wanted to be alone with my son, I wanted to carry him on my back to the place where he would sleep forever, I wanted to lie with him and cuddle him. I wanted all that. I was tired. The God I served had forgotten me. He had let me down again...
I noticed the procession slow down, I wondered why everyone was whispering… but I didn’t have to wonder for so long, i lifted my eyes to see, and walking towards me was a man with a crowd following him, a man with eyes like no other, eyes that ran deeper than I ever saw. I stared at those eyes filled with compassion, getting lost in the depths of them, I felt a calm like never before, a feeling I couldn’t explain, I needed to know who he was, but I couldn’t even speak… all I heard was a whisper from the crowd "Jesus of Nazareth"
 "Don’t cry” he said to me.
If I could speak at that moment I would have said I wasn’t crying, i would have told him i was cried out, my heart was a barren land, lacking the moist of expression. But I was so drowned in what I saw in his eyes that I couldn’t speak, even when he put his hands on my face and wiped away my tears; my hands flew to my face in shock... i had been crying without knowing it. I thought I was all cried out, where did the tears come from? 
What was this reassurance I got from this Jesus the one we had heard about? Why did I feel like I shouldn’t grief anymore? I almost believed everything was alright until I looked up and saw my sons body coming up behind me.
The man walked over to the pall bearers and touched the stretcher… he said words that left me speechless and got the crowd mumbling…
 “young man, get up”
I heard a snigger to my right, I noticed my sister chuckle. I didn’t care, call it desperate hope, but I didn’t think it impossible to see my son rise again.
Thus I was half shocked and half elated with expectations when I saw the light of my life’s legs move, and then he sat up… and the man helped him off the stretcher and put him in my arms…
Oh what joy, what hope, what peace, what impossibility… that I would hold my boy again, that within a few minutes, my despair would turn to pure unadulterated joy, that the impossible would be made possible, that the spark in my life would be restored.
“God has come to his people indeed”
We were all in awe. Our songs of mourning turned into songs of joy… this time, my voice rang higher than every other voice, this time, I cried and wailed in joy… this time, my boy carried me in his arms running towards the house as we praised the name of the Lord God of Israel…
God has come to his people, God has brought love and joy, and God has brought hope and restoration… God is with us, and he has touched me. I believe more than I ever did. I have seen his goodness first hand. I will tell the nations of his love.
"You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers" Psalm 30:11(the msg)
Luke 7:11-17

When the going gets tough, when you feel all hope is lost, God is right at the corner, he will surprise you and turn your mourning to dancing, and lift your sorrow and fill your heart with so much joy that your mouth would have no choice but to declare his power and glory.  
"When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, 'Don't cry.'" (Luke 7:13)
May God's compassion meet us in our deepest sorrow.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Not another fashion blog...

No, this isn't another fashion blog.
In fact, i don't think i look so pretty in this picture (here's your cue to drop a compliment)You know like the ladies in the style blogs look. I should have had a fierce and intense look, almost like I'm doing a 'Matilda' on the camera, and a pout like this...
But here i am, doing a 'Mary had a one leg' and smiling like Xi in 'gods must be crazy' Oh well...
This post goes beyond that. I had no idea what i was going to wear for a family portrait about two years ago, so i didn't prepare for it. The photographer was already around when i rushed to the room and grabbed at what i could lay my hands on. I turned out nice enough...
Top: Tiffany Amber
Skirt: Primark
Shoes: Louboutin
Belt: New look (£3)
Jewelry: errr... expensive sha.
Legs: Extremely Hot... all mine (you can't afford)
(seriously, i wonder how the fashion bloggers do this)

Ok, this post isn't just about how fine i looked(yeah, whatever)
My outfit is a cocktail of the cheap and expensive. Together they make a beautiful masterpiece :p.
I had a friend who was so fixated on labels, i think it kind of ruined her life. I know peeps who wouldn't go close to primark... or those who look at newlook with disdain.
They fail to realize that Expensive labels don't guarantee a good look. Sometimes you need that touch of a £2 earring to make your £2000 outfit POP.

I know for a fact that if i substitute my £3 belt with my sisters $500 belt, this outfit would be transformed from 'Hot' to 'Hot mess'. And If i was given more time to put together an outfit before the photo session, i may have used a Deola Sagoe 'paid a ridiculous price' pair of pants that wouldn't have turned out this great(pardon me for emphasizing on how great i look... I promise it's just to get my point across)

All I'm trying to say is, ALL things work together to make a perfect outfit. The expensive and the cheap come together to make a look pop, it doesn't matter if i buy a £3 belt... or if i buy a skirt from tesco, or thrift a top, as long as you have a sense of style. There's a bigger picture and that's what matters most. (I really do have a dress from Tesco, and everybody loves it, but they just can't imagine buying an F&F outfit *shrug*)

Same way, ALL things WORK TOGETHER for the GOOD of those who LOVE the LORD.(Rom 8:28) The pain, the joy, the highs and the lows, the laughter and the tears, they all come together to make you the beautiful person that you are. If all you've had is good times, how would you have learned to trust God and see his mighty hand in your life?
Like @Lecrea tweets "Trials and tribulations refine us and make us stronger. Don't run from them, grow from them."
We don't pray for trials and challenges, but we do good by knowing that they are a part of life, and we can choose to grow through them instead of caving under them.

"In the chemistry of the cross God takes things that, in and of themselves, are bad, and He puts them together, much as a chemist might take chemicals that, in and of themselves, may be deleterious and mixes them to make a medicine that brings healing.""Rising Above Your Circumstances," by Adrian Rogers

I have a feeling what I've written down is so far from what i had in my head, it seemed so clear in there...
Oh well, just remember the word doesn't say "some things" it says "ALL things work together for the good of those who love the lord" It's all inclusive, the louboutin shoes and the primark skirt all work together to make beautiful a girl who has a sense of style. The good, bad and ugly of your life, works together for your good... if you love the Lord that is. Take the Lord away from the equation and you're just a person going through rough patches that do you no good.

X

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The look...

You know that look? the one we(especially Nigerians) put up when we want to express deep gut wrenching sorrow, especially to a bereaved person? or when we just hear horrible news?
I hate it!!!! I do it, most people i know do it, it's such a dramatic look, even when it's nothing close to the way my friends mum expresses hers(now her's is on another level)
I hate the look, i despise the look. But i despise it more when it's not there... when the expression is lost on your face... Hidden from me.
something like this.
I gave the look a few days ago. I couldn't control it... i tried to, i couldn't.

It wasn't there when i stared at dad's body on the morgue gurney... i wasn't sorry for him or for me or for anyone. I was numb... i had the other look, the one i despise more, the one that is expressionless. I touched his cold hard face... i wanted to wash my hands immediately. That was all i could think of doing, not contorting my face in pain and sorrow... even when i choked on tears, all i could think of was washing my hands. I wanted to be bent over in pain and wailing and have people hold me... But all i could manage was something like this...

I didn't have the look when i walked to granddads bedside, a few seconds after he died. It wasn't there when i watched Ladi, moms cousin close his mouth that hung open or when the nurses came in to cover him up. I had the despised look, the blank one. But looking at pictures of both funerals, i realized the look come out at the gravesides.

You see, the look disappears when i need it most and then it appears when i have no business expressing it. Like seating beside this stranger that is my friend and trying to say sorry for his loss, a loss of a few months ago. I felt stupid displaying all that emotion, i felt like i was making him uncomfortable and opening up old wounds, i needed a new look, somewhere between the contorted and the expressionless, i couldn't find any, and so i tried to laugh it off, and crack jokes. It didn't help. I said the wrong things... i ended up driving off feeling like a fool.

I am grateful for life, mine and my family's. I have a good look for that, my face softens, my eyes moistens and my smile gives such a glow to my face. It's not contorted, it's molded into a beautiful masterpiece. God is so good, and i don't want to ever loose the look of satisfaction when it comes to family. That's the only look i care for right now.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Random blabs...

I ate gala. No, i wasn't in traffic, or dead hungry in the middle of the desert. I just ate it because i happened to see it in a store and purchased one. I ate it in the comfort of my bed with a chilled bottle of coke. Did i enjoy it? NO! i was done even before i started. Gala was created for the taste bud of the road, and not for leisure snacking.
I went to a shop and saw Nasco biscuits and cornflakes on sale. My heart lurched... was i back in the stone age with the Flintstones? Modern day earth is oreos and Kelloggs et co.
It was nice seeing it though, back in the day, the Nasco Factory in Jos was my version of 'Charley and the chocolate factory' I imagined a day in there eating and eating.
I think it's great they are still in production, and thumbs up to those who still patronize them. We are in the #buynaija era, no? or the loyalty to country is just for fashion?


I had to fill out some immigration forms early this year, it was during the short lived #occupynaija movement. Each time i saw the question 'Occupation' the first word that came to my head with all seriousness was 'unoccupied' as opposed to 'unemployed'. Just one of those moments when you're almost pulling your hair out trying to spell 'is'.
I guess it's a sign, maybe there should be an  #occupyFQ movement, it may prove more successful than all the occupy harsh tags the world over.

When i decided that attending the presidential banquet wasn't such a bad idea after all, time was against me, so I rushed to the salon to get my hair styled. The stylist gave me a knowing look... 'we get plenty visitors for town'. I quickly said, i was going for a banquet. I was trying to dispute his thinking, but he probably assumed i was going with one of the visitors. That is just how small they think in Benue, every girl has to be about every other girls' path. President and his entourage in town, plenty business to run. I felt demeaned, isn't 'blood of Jesus' boldly written on my head? :|
Maybe i should have started speaking in tongues for him... get him back on track. Oh well... whatever his thoughts, my hair looked lovely...

I think Diddy beats in-ear headphones, need to be used to give Diddy a good beating. It is just one expensive and frustrating set of headphone!!! What's more annoying is that mine was gotten at the Harrods price :(...Next time, I'll be buying the two hundred naira headphones from the abokis wheel-barrow, they may not give me the sound of 'beats' but at least, they'll stay IN my ears, and the controls would work with my ipod.


Have you ever been bothered with the fact that you can watch an animal being killed and comfortably eat it as soon as it's cooked? I haven't thought twice before grabbing a chicken leg... even if i kind of feel sad when i watch it being slaughtered, neither have i stopped loving cow leg because i stare into the eyes of a live cow at Christmas and get emotional before it is killed. (that's proof that we were created to eat meat) How do vegetarians live without meat?(the true ones, not those PETA people).
Speaking of PETA(outside of the animal cruelty which i understand) shouldn't they be protesting in the jungle too? Those lions need to be told meat is bad, and the hyenas need naked women with placards fighting for the rights of goats. Or even in the sea... Sharks need to be warned off chewing on other fishes and humans too. Me? I'd rather wear fur than go Naked. God made the world the way it is... the sooner they learn to accept that, the less they'd catch cold from their nude protest.

I miss Lagos. I miss my church, i miss house fellowship, i miss ice-cream factory and polo club suya. I miss the pink room and some of my clothes, i miss gatherings with my friends. I miss that lagosy atmosphere... Looking forward to Lagos.

Enough of the ramblings... have a great week people.
X

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Lure of Turkish Delight...



Have you ever wanted something so bad, that you get consumed at the thought of it? 
There's a danger in reading EVERY book you come across, because it claws at your mind and tries to shape your thoughts if you let it. That's why many of us are so disillusioned after we spent our growing years reading Mills and boons and harlequin romance novels. Even the occasional style and glam/wedding mags have taken over our sense of reasoning, we want what they offer and we want it now.

I've wanted to be a vampire... thanks to reading 'an interview with a vampire', i wanted to be a geisha, thanks to the 'memoirs of a geisha' amongst others. I could name all my favorite books to give you an idea of what my mind has shaped my thoughts to be at various points in my life.

I was desperate to crash into some random car, knowing full well the driver would end up being my wealthy, handsome and charming husband or find him seated next to me on a flight to Port Harcourt, thanks to 'No sense of Limits' a novel written by a naija wife Araceli Aipoh. Unfortunately, all the people I've sat next to in planes are plain nuisance. I just want them to shut up already and let me be, and those I've come close to crashing into in Lagos traffic, happen to be okada riders and reckless bus drivers. All the cute ones who would demand for my drivers license and number as a leverage for payment, all in a plot to buy me dinner and propose happen to remain in the books. Reality has disappointed me one to many times.
         “Longed for him. Got him. Shit.” ― Margaret Atwood
And so I was ensnared again after i read ‘the lion, the witch and the wardrobe’  The imagined taste of Turkish delight wrapped itself around every one of my senses, i could see the taste, hear the taste, taste the taste and my mind could feel the taste. This torment could only end by actually having the physical Turkish delight in my mouth. It would be such an euphoric feeling, like the heavens bursting in my mouth and sending...(Okay, i can't do the descriptive thing... take a minute here to imagine how great it'd be) Just incase you are lost...

The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle on to the snow, and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with green silk ribbon, which, when opened, turned out to contain several pounds of the best Turkish Delight. Each piece was sweet and light to the very centre and Edmund had never tasted anything more delicious. … At first Edmund tried to remember that it is rude to speak with one's mouth full, but soon he forgot about this and thought only of trying to shovel down as much Turkish Delight as he could, and the more he ate the more he wanted to eat … .

At last the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more. Probably the Queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves.Excerpts from C.S Lewis Chronicles of Narnia: the Lion the witch and the wardrobe…
I'll do anything for another taste of that.
I was haunted by that thought, driven by it. I wanted to have a taste of something that tasted so good, it could lead a boy to betray his siblings and willingly walk into danger, just because he wanted more of it. At the back of my mind(as per a local girl), I assumed it was just one of those fictitious things Mr Lewis created, and i resigned myself to the fact that i could only imagine what it'd be like… That’s until two years ago, I was at the mall with mum and by the time she remembered to buy a treat for her grand kids, their favorite Auntie Anne's pretzel stand was closed… So we walked into Marks and Spencer’s to grab at a sponge cake or anything, and right in my face was the most beautiful sight ever…. 

Packs of Turkish delights sang a song of love to me, i proceeded in picking up packs for myself and the kids, assuming it was just the taste of heaven i had imagined and we would have such a feast with it, just like Edmund. I was amazed it took me so long to notice them in the shops.
When we got home, and had a taste, I was so disappointed, I couldn’t even finish chewing the first bite. I hated it. it was disgusting. Not even the kids liked it. Like seriously, I was disappointed at Edmund, he could do better than that...

"When [Edmund] heard that the Lady he had made friends with was a dangerous witch he felt even more uncomfortable. But he still wanted to taste that Turkish Delight again more than he wanted anything else. … He had eaten his share of the dinner, but he hadn't really enjoyed it because he was thinking all the time about Turkish Delight—and there's nothing that spoils the taste of good ordinary food half so much as the memory of bad magic food."

I wanted it so bad, but I could only feel remorse after tasting it. My expectation was cut short... What was the excitement about? The taste of my desire was not worth the endless craving.
Have you ever wanted to do something so bad, that when you did finally get a taste of it, you only felt remorse and disappointment? 

 "Bread of deceit is sweet to a man; but afterwards his mouth shall be filled with gravel." Proverbs 20:17

That’s how temptation ropes us in, it starts with the visuals we see and next, we are haunted by that image, wanting it so bad…. Then we finally get to have a taste of it and when we do, we realize it's worth nothing. Just a sour taste of shame and regret in our mouth. 

We nailed him to the cross all over again for nothing.

Edmund deserved every punishment coming his way for his stupidity, especially death... But Aslan took his place, even when he didn't have to. Just like Christ has chosen to take our place and cover our sins over and over again when we let stupidity and our unguarded hearts rule us. 

Thank God for his Love. Many of us would be dead, buried and in hell by now, if not for his loving kindness and grace.

“Dreaming about being an actress, is more exciting then being one.”Marilyn Monroe

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

To Sandy with Love...

It's my girl's birthday today...
It's amazing how much we've grown. She's one of the strongest women i know. Sometimes i feel like wringing her neck, or pushing her off the bridge when she attacks her chicken bone in public or starts goofing around, other times i want to glue her to the ground so she can seat all day and give me reasonable laughs... She's the one mummy didn't have to think twice before letting me sleep over at hers.
You hardly come across good friends that somehow manage to stick through the years, and she's one of the good ones. We've shared laughs, fears over math scores on promotion term, freaked over and binged on books together, organized our share of teenage parties... We've had our bad car days... well mostly her :), I lost a dad and she lost a mum, we've been through pain, and we've been in trouble together... We've had our days i must say. I'm glad i got to grow up with her... 13years and counting.

She's such a cake junkie and I would have sent her a truck load of a variety of Hummingbird cakes... from red velvet to chocolate, to vanilla sponge to carrot cakes or have my sister bake them all for her. But since she's in Ghana, and i can't afford to send out private jets with deliveries just now... i decided to give her a very special gift on facebook. It's one i'm proud to share here too. (Just so you have a glimpse of one of my many talents)
I dedicate this special drawing, this work of pure genius that has convinced me that I am indeed a talented artist, to you Sandy. After I move to Paris, and walk the streets as a tortured artist with my sketch book, I’ll be discovered, and this drawing will get famous, and you’ll realize what a special birthday gift it is (so don’t snigger at it, appreciate it today… )
I'm sure she's a smart one... she'll value this and so should you. One of those scribbles on a hot and somewhat boring day at the site. See how great it turned out :|. Watch this space. 
God bless my friend in her new year... X

Monday, March 12, 2012

Local defector...


I know I’ve openly declared myself to be a local girl, but if you've planned on taking me to bukas for dates… desist or have your face splashed with the pure water we will be served with.
So I say I’m a local girl, but even the village girls are known to defect sometimes, especially after having a taste of the good life. i.e Ada Amaka had a crush on the local palm wine tapper because he owned a bicycle. She visits the neighboring village for the first time and Obinna the shoe maker who’s her aunts neighbor gives her a lift to the market on his motor bike… well levels don change for Ada Amaka, she suddenly wants nothing to do with the palm wine tapper and his bicycle. Life on a motor bike sure beats life on a bicycle.
Growing up, mum would take me to the market to have my hair weaved while she went shopping. Dropping me with those women was a nightmare. I sat on tiny stools, my head bent in every direction unimaginable and the worst of all, in the scorching heat, our body’s all sweaty, some mama Friday would stick my head between her legs all in the name of making didi… you can't imagine the stink.
Well, I grew up and started going to saloons with AC’s and coffee and tea and cold drinks. My nieces don’t have their heads in death trap positions, they’re offered sodas and cakes and they’re petted, their hair handled with care… Now, do you think even in my localness, I want to ever go back to seating on low stools in market places to weave my hair after tasting the good life? :)
Braiding my hair in Onikan kind of reminds me of those days, even though the conditions are relatively better. I decided to go to Onikan one fine day to braid my hair, not entirely because I was too broke for elaborate salon visits, where you have to tip ten more peeps in addition to the girl who styled your hair; you tip the tea boy, you tip the one who washed your hair, the one who comes to gist with you and lovingly ask after the kids/family/nieces, the one who comes every five minutes and says as loud as she can ‘aunty your hair is fine’; the one who paints just a toe nail… the guard who helps park the car. The tipping money alone would pay for my hair in Onikan.
Anyways, I wanted beautiful braids and I wanted it cheap and so Onikan it was. A cluster of little saloons where everyone sits outside to get their hair done. That is after you have used up all energy trying to find appropriate parking, because there is no one to bully to get you parking space. I’m paying ten times less than the regular salons. It’s always almost like a steal when i go there, I almost feel guilty, but I don’t.:p
I sit making my hair and some lady comes and offers to give me a manicure and pedicure… I let her, and her pedicure is just too good, and she fixes one of the best nail extensions i've ever had, my nails looked so beautiful.
It was a relief being in a salon where you can be yourself in comfort, without feeling like you’re committing a felony for being you. No one’s being nice to you just because of the amount you’re paying, the girls are real. But even with knowing what I know, I’ll still be going back to the salons… Because I love the fact that I drive in and there’s a place to park, if not, someone’s going to look for one for me. I love the cool AC on me while my hair is been made, and I can scream about a fly/cockroach and jump around and make others who probably live with flies and cockroaches like me, scream too. I love to seat on the massage seats, relaxed while getting a pedicure. I love having the TV on and a clean rest room available if i need one. I love it when my scalp is massaged tenderly after every wash, and I love the insincere treatment I get, like I’m the best thing since sliced bread, even though I know I’ll be paying for every compliment and every smile.
I love that my bum isn’t paralyzed from seating on a hard low stool, and I can dictate what I want and have them loosening when I feel I don’t like it… try it with the Onikan girls and I have a feeling they’ll pounce on you and beat you up :). I remember once giving the diva attitude when the saloon girls were almost half way through with my hair, I hated the way the braids looked, and I was ready to walk, they pleaded and pleaded, hurriedly loosened it and started all over again to my satisfaction. I noticed something like that in Onikan and i complained, the punishment i got for that was mean... those girls made the hair so tight, i almost passed out.
I came out looking well groomed and pretty like i just stepped out of some island saloon.  Be it in onikan or the nail place… as long as you come out looking nice, no one really cares where your hair was made. But even in all my localness, when I’m in a place where I have a choice, I’d rather pick comfort over convenience. Here's a toast to my ability to acclimate easily to the posh side.
(Onikan is my every once in a while go to place.)

P.S With salvation, it doesn’t matter how you get there, through the back streets, or the Posh salons, as long as you come out looking great. Some were ‘born’ saved, others were handed salvation through the dim halls of brothels, on high ways of robbery, drug induced haze and in pits of depression. It doesn't matter how you got saved or who you were in the past, what’s important is that you are saved. That's all that matters. Onikan or the island... who really cares? Just come out looking groomed.

Friday, March 9, 2012

The Presidents Visit...


I noticed road works on the road leading to the industrial layout. It’s been a whole pile of rubbish for so long with horrible potholes. And the little portholes on the tarred roads within the layout were being filled up… That’s until I realized President Jonathan was coming to town and he would be coming to the industrial layout to commission the factory next door to ours. There was a crash work on the road construction. I refused to get irritated with that fact. It's for my good in the end, I've had to suffer bumping on that road everyday for the past couple of weeks, my mum has suffered that for months. Any little upgrade is welcome, be it eye service or not.

The governor’s wife who never stays in town came home two days before the visit and took over the planning, you would think she lived in the state and not the various countries she's always at or in Abuja… Her NGO billboard of years ago was pulled down and a fresh one put up… make it look like she’s been busy and such a gem of the state.
I wish the president would choose to come every couple of months, we’d be a super state in no time, with work that needs to be done completed in record time.
I’m sure many of us would be excited if the rules were changed… God would give a forewarning before he comes. To enable us work on every pothole in our life. Especially, the really messy ones. I would be excited; I’d hurriedly fill up the tiny irregularities in my life. I would grade and tar the major road that has been neglected in my life. I would run back into the charity works I ought to have started and like our first lady, put a new bill board displaying my wonderful works.
Wouldn’t it be great? To be told before time, to be given a chance to prepare for his arrival and impress him enough to take us with him when he comes? (I’ve come to realize he’s not easily impressed with our dancing round in circles trying to please him with our eye service, but then...)
I didn’t think of it this way when I thought to write this, but it just occurred to me that he’s actually sent an advance team to warn us of his arrival, and we’ve been so nonchalant about it. We’ve been foretold, and this is the time to prepare, but unfortunately many of us don’t care about filling up the potholes and building up the rough edges of our lives, we really don’t care.
Jesus answered: “Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Christ,’ and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains. (Matt 24:4-9)
These are just some of the things leading to the end… False preachers, wars and rumor of wars, earthquakes, famines etc.They are things we see everyday in the news and all around us. It helps us confirm Christ's words.There's no doubt the end is near... near could be in our life time or that of the generations after us. It could be the next minute, not when Christ comes, but when we die. The end could be anything and anytime. 
It’s time to call in the construction companies and start some serious road works on our lives.
God help us.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Underestimated...


Sometimes I feel overestimated. 
I get ridiculous calls with ridiculous job offers and I blank out. A small part of the reason I don't jump at this offers is because I'm not so eager to jump into the 9-5 bandwagon anymore. But the main reason I don't jump at them is because I get scared. I think maybe I’m not qualified enough... heck, I know I’m not qualified enough on paper for these positions.
I may not be that qualified with my university degree, but I’ve learnt most of the things I know on the job... I have gone for meetings with 'heavy weights' completely clueless but learning on the spot... the little things I pick up I’m able to sound off, giving me a good look. And i guess this good look sends a (wrong?) signal.

Since coming home in January, I've been saddled with a position that is almost overwhelming. I accepted this offer because i had too. I've concluded that if they didn't believe in me, i wouldn't have been given the chance.
I've come to realize that while I think I have been overestimated, these people see in me what I fail to see in myself, whatever it is that they see. They believe in me, more than I believe in myself. If I was really interested in these jobs that i said nayy to, I would have missed out on a lot of opportunities because I short changed myself.
So I have been underestimating myself and what I am capable of after all.

And just like I treat those calls when they come in, we ignore God's call when it comes.
We underestimate ourselves in God's eyes.
We fail to look at ourselves the way he sees us. We underestimate the value he has placed on us. (He loved us enough to trade Jesus for us) We fail to realize just how much he loves us. We underestimate the length, breath and width of his love and how much he wants to bless us.
Thus we fail to realize the power we have in him.
Because we see ourselves with the eyes of condemnation, we limit ourselves from the goodness we are promised in him.

We stand aside feeling small, and watch others enjoy his grace and love and think how blessed they are, and how holy they are, and how much God must love them because they go about saying "bless you sister" and updating their facebook status with a scripture or two.
We need to know God loves us as much as he loves the next person. The sooner we stop underestimating ourselves and start seeing ourselves through God's eyes, the sooner we choose to serve him and bask in his presence. I think it's easier to surrender to God's will when we see ourselves as precious in his eyes.
source:http://4.bp.blogspot.com

The promises in the bible are for you as much as they are for the next person. It all bores down to you stepping up to receive them. 1 John 4:19 says "We love him, because he first loved us." When we understand just how much he loves us regardless of what we've done or how hopeless we seem, we will love him endlessly, and as the word says "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Corinthians 2:9 No one can even begin to fathom the blessings he has for us when we love him i.e. when we understand his love for us and respond to it.

"Yet amid all these things we are more than conquerors and gain a surpassing victory through Him Who loved us. For I am persuaded beyond doubt (am sure) that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities, nor things impending and threatening nor things to come, nor powers, Nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord". Romans 8:37-39 
Nothing can separate us from God's love... but our perception of self can deprive us of basking in this love.

Start seeing yourself through the eyes of Jesus, it's time to let go of the insecurities of our struggles with our faith, and hold on to his love.... the love that releases grace and washes us clean of every sin, the love that strengthens us in our weakness and leads us in the path that we should go. The love that releases every spiritual blessing in the heavenly place.

"Give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever" Psalm 136:26


***HAPPY 70TH BIRTHDAY to Pastor E.A Adeboye.... his ministry has been such  a blessing to me. May Gods grace continue to abound i him. 
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