Monthly Archives: November 2013


I watched a man today be vulnerable with his wife. I watched him fidget before he stepped into an office where he probably had a very crucial meeting. I watched him take his wife’s hand in his sweaty one and whisper something in her ear. The look on his face showed that he maybe was scared or worried about what was awaiting him in the next room. He probably told her about his concern.
I watched her clasp her fingers over his sweaty hand. I watched her lean into him and whisper back in his ear, then kiss his cheek. I watched her delicately wipe off the barely noticeable stain her lipstick had left on the cheek. I watched her smile and saw that he smiled back. I watched her squeeze his hand just before he let go and took the final steps to the door. I watched him glance back one last time and wink at her as she blew kisses in his general direction.
I watched a couple be in love today and it felt so good to imagine being in love that way. And even though my story has a lot of ‘maybe(s)’ and ‘probably(s)’, I like what I saw and what I (maybe) imagined it to be.


Customised Pathway…

And when you’re asking questions about the future, decisions and choices to make, the right path to take, and wondering about God’s interest in the specific details of your life…

“I will guide you along the best pathway for your life, I will advise you and watch over you” – Psalm 32:8(NLT)

“18 – And therefore the Lord [earnestly] waits [expecting, looking and longing] to be gracious to you; and therefore He lifts Himself up, that He may have mercy on you and show loving-kindness to you. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed (happy, fortunate, to be envied) are all those who [earnestly] wait for Him, who expect and look and long for Him [for His victory, His favour, His love, His peace, His joy and matchless unbroken compassion]!
19 – O people who dwell in Zion at Jerusalem, you will weep no more. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry; When He hears it, He will answer you.
20 – And though the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide Himself anymore, but your eyes will constantly behold your Teacher.
21 – And your ears will a hear a word behind you saying, This is the way; walk in it, when you turn to the right hand and when you turn to the left.”
Isaiah 30:18-21 (AMP)

“This is the way,walk in it…”
Wow! This is Him reminding me that He’s got me and He wants to be involved in the process. So when you’re at a crossroad, listen for His voice saying, “this is the way, walk in it”. He will guide you along the best pathway for YOUR life. He’s earnestly waiting to be gracious to you.
This is a reminder for the moments when you’re unsure of the next step. Relax. Earnestly wait for Him. Expect, look and long for Him… He will surely be gracious to you.
Mahn!!! These promises just blow my mind.
There’s a customised pathway for me, and He wants to lead me! He’s more than willing to help when I need it.
“So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.” Hebrews 4:16

The In-Between


There’s the pain and discomfort that comes from wanting and longing for something that seems out of reach. The uncomfortable itch that we feel when we are stuck on a path that doesn’t lead anywhere. The endless nights spent in prayer asking to be moved closer to that which lays on the horizon. The reaching and seeking and calling out and planning and the hustling. There’s that.


Then there are the moments of joy, of fulfilment and contentment. The moments, albeit brief, where we are beyond ourselves with excitement at finally striking one thing off the list. The defining moments of reaching another milestone, another goal accomplished. The relief in knowing we have arrived, if only for a moment. The ‘eyes closed as we slowly exhale’ moments. Rest. Nothingness. There’s also that.


Then what? Back to the discomfort, and the longing, and wanting all over again. Back to the grind, and the searching, and wistfulness…
Endless circle.

But I find myself in the in-between. I find myself in the moment of gratitude. Of giving praise. Of counting my blessings. Of realising that there is a much bigger Hand upholding me. Between the big and the little things, I find good in this moment. I find myself gazing into the eyes of the One who weaves the beauty through the pain. Who works through the brokenness. I find myself spread out before Him who composes this song that is my life, a high note here, a low note there… But never a flat tone, never off-tune. Never that.


Then there’s the eureka moment! I want Him through the process. I want the in-between at both extremes. I want to turn to Him in joy as much as I do in need. In the pain. In the wanting. In the longing. In the arriving. In the contentment. I want to enjoy the build up. And the crescendo.

Counting it all joy…

Praise undefined by my circumstance. Thanksgiving not tied to a list. Or a date. Or a feeling. Joy unaffected by the news. Dancing not regulated by the media. Singing prompted by a knowing (in Whom I believe). And clapping of hands. Shouting and rejoicing. The whoops. The hymns. The choruses.
Unafraid of being happy. Content. Full. Despite ‘evidence’ to the contrary.
I love this in-between. I choose to extend this moment into both ends. The in-between punctuated by those other moments that make life what it is.

Count it ALL joy…

The Little Things

So much has happened in the last seventy-two hours. I’m trying to make a list of things that I’m thankful for and with all the HUGE things that God’s been doing these last couple of days, it’s the little things that make my heart skip. It’s the seemingly inconsequential things that cause me to pause, reflect, and fall to my knees. How can such an awesome God love me??? I still cannot understand it.
I’d be honoured just to be Your servant but I’m overwhelmed that You would call me friend.
How He takes His times to fix the little things for me, making that last minute phone call connect despite crappy network, pausing the rain for a few minutes so I don’t go into the interview with wet hair, giving me just the right words to say, nudging me to send a random message that’s leading to big things… It’s these little things that blow my mind.
My list is full of the little things. My heart is bursting with love for a God who takes His time to show me how much He cares about the smallest details of my life. Why won’t I give my all to Him? Even in the midst of the storm, it’s His telling me to come to Him, to walk on water, to trust Him, that leaves me overwhelmed. Knowing that He can calm the sea, actually begging Him to, but watching Him take my hand and lead me through it, that’s awesome!
My God is always doing wonders. We are often times caught up in our wait for the voice of thunder, that we miss the whisper of His still, small voice.
I know that this post is very random, but tonight I’m just so in love with and in awe of my Abba, I can’t help myself.
I’m thankful.

*Don’t be so preoccupied with trying to fix all the big things that aren’t working, that you forget to see the little expressions of love He shows you everyday!
Have an amazing week. :*


I finally read Chimamanda Adichie’s Americanah today. I’m glad I didn’t read it months ago when everyone had an opinion about it. I’m glad I read it away from the noise of intellectual reviews, and overly enthusiastic gushing of Adichie devotees.
This in itself is not a review, we already have enough (more than enough) of that…. This is me sharing a few of the feelings/thoughts I had while reading.

Americanah made me think about love. Of holding hands and evening walks. Of eating nearly overripe avocados in my grandmother’s verandah. Of wearing an oversized tee to bed and drinking tea from a coffee mug.
Obinze’s mother made me want to put the book aside for a minute just so I could pick up my phone, call my mother and tell her I love her.
It made me remember late night drives to buy suya and masa. It brought on the overwhelming need to be touched. To be held by a man. My man. It made the sound of that somewhat appealing… My Man. It made me want to be chased.
It made me think about the great love of my life. Of sharing a joke with my Abba, then I pictured Him chuckle and say in His rich, endearing voice, “Child…”.
It made me think about home. About book shelves that reach the ceiling and love seats with the softest cushions. About pianos and a music room. About the beach and sand between my toes. About potted plants and the smell of lilies.
It made me think about twist outs for my natural hair. Made me long for a deep condition.
I loved that it made me feel. Really feel without necessarily being mushy. Honest.

It’s funny that most of these things have nothing to do with the plot of the book per se… I just generally liked the way I felt while/after reading. And if I close my eyes right now to sleep, these are most likely the things I’d dream about.

Just Words.

I tried to write today. You know, just another post, answer some other random question, be okay with all the evil in the world, see the future through the tears… I tried to do that.
I wrote 500 words, like the assignment said, ‘500 words or more’. Gbam! There you have it professor, neatly typed. Would you want it bound too? I wrote your 500 words. Yes, your words. I realised after the third read, they weren’t mine. Then I smiled.
I smiled that smile B calls lazy, and N says shows the sadness in my eyes. It’s funny, she never notices the sadness until I smile like that :-)… They are supposed to hide the pain, I tell her. You’re not very good at it, she replies.
I don’t hide my pain very well, do I? V says it’s that way with writers. I laugh whenever she says it. She’s a writer. A fantastic one! So it probably does apply to her. I’m not. I have words that just struggle to come out. Or thoughts. Random thoughts. I can never quite find the words. A few ramblings does not a writer make.
I digress.
I do that a lot. It’s a legitimate form of escapism, I think. Anything to take my mind off the sharp pain in my chest. And the voice in my head screaming, broken! Broken! Broken! Broken! I focus instead on P!nk’s voice. Not broken, just bent.
Na condition make crayfish bend.
Hahaha! I agree. Conditions beyond my control, I like to believe. Conditions that force me to use clichés like, “it’s life”. These things happen. C’est la vie. Moving on…
Where was I?
Ah, yes. Words. My words. I’m trying to find those. Trying to figure out exactly what they are. So I’ll scribble. In the meantime, scribble.
A says it’s gets easier. Maybe not better, but easier. I am earnestly waiting for that. Easy. Easy is good. Easy is safe. Easy is…easy. Until it gets hard. But what do I know about these things? I’m just a rambling insomniac currently craving ice-cream and conversations with a random stranger. My random stranger. Haha! Easy, Kov. These things get messy. Easy. Easy. Easy. New mantra.
But easy is boring. And I’ve endured twenty something years worth of that. Not exactly, but that’s my story. So maybe we won’t do easy. Maybe we’ll take another leap from yet another cliff and maybe this time we will fly. Maybe we will fall into the sea. That’s not terrible either. I could learn to breathe under water. Because you know, that’s what I do. And then I’ll write about it. Or I’ll try to, at least.
Tonight, I just might settle for Perks of Being a Wallflower, smile my lazy smile at more clichés, and take notes.
But these are just words. All 500 of them. There you go, Professor. 500 words not too neatly typed, bound with strings… The same ones tugging at my heart. There you have it. Five hundred words. My words.

Day 15: Closure.

Narrate a conversation between you and someone in your life who you never had closure with (a friend, an ex, a family member, etc.) What would you say? What would they say? What outcome would you hope for?

Hmmm. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Sometimes, I think closure is overrated. What’s done is done, why can’t we all just move on? I hold on to this until something happens again, exposing raw emotions that have gone untreated for years, showing that my hasty band-aid cover up of “let’s just move on” really hasn’t done me any good. Maybe closure isn’t so overrated after all.
What do I say to someone who was supposed to be my closest friend and confidant but ended up being the one behind years worth of misery? Calling it betrayal would be putting it mildly. We never really addressed the issue and mutual friends still don’t understand why we stopped being friends. I don’t understand it either. I carried the hurt and bitterness for years, and I’d spend hours trying to figure out what exactly would possess someone to be so cruel. I could have just asked her, right? But I didn’t. I let it eat up my insides and would literally feel my stomach churning whenever I saw her. It became easier after a while, we could have a cordial conversation without me feeling like ripping out my insides. But I held on to the bitterness and anger. I didn’t want to let that go. I felt like if I didn’t have that, then it’ll be like our friendship never existed.
After months of having God deal with me on forgiveness and love (quite recently actually), I finally broke down some weeks ago and gave up the anger. I remember crying in my bedroom, calling her name over and over again, saying, “I forgive you. I let go”. It wasn’t pretty. I did feel lighter after that. I see her more and more often these days and my smile is genuine when I say “hello”.
Now here’s the twist, a few nights ago, I was talking with Abba about something completely unrelated when He tells me to go apologise to her. Huh???? Why? I didn’t do anything wrong! That couldn’t have been God. It’s been days, and I can’t shake the voice. I spoke to my cousin about it earlier today and she reminded me of Naaman in the Bible and how the prophet asked him to go wash in the river… “If He asked you to do something more difficult, would you not do it?” Maybe she has a point.
I still haven’t figured out exactly what I’m going to say when next I see her but I’ll at least apologise for nursing ill thoughts all these years. I may not have been the initial wrong-doer, but my thoughts and actions in response were anything but Christian. They were in themselves, another wrong. I could at least apologise for that.
I have no idea what outcome I’m expecting… I just want to obey a command. Do I think this will somehow give life to our friendship? Probably not. I just know that I want to love others as I have been loved. I’ve been forgiven much, and it’s only right that I extend the same to others. And maybe, just maybe this will help me deal with the fresh wave of betrayal that recently hit me. (Lol… I seem to be packing on a lot of those.)