Tuesday 21 July 2009

Joy

I am glad that words aren’t all that we have. I am glad that they aren’t all we share. I am glad that you can hear me even when I make no verbal utterances and that you understand me without having read a note on the state of my heart.

For if everything you did to and with me and if everything I wanted to tell you had to be articulated by speech or in writing, I fear that the inadequacy of human languages would not capture even a glimpse of our hearts’ deepest truths.

Sometimes mere groanings speak volumes. On other days, the salt in my tears seems to reach much further than my elaborate essays. Sunshine and rain, earth and fire, colour and melody...we share so much more than a few ‘how do you dos’ and ‘have a good days’.
I am glad.

Sunday 7 June 2009

a long forgotten Father-daughter conversation

Dear Beloved


I've been thinking about what you asked earlier and I decided to write to you...Actually, I never stop thinking about you, ever. You are always on my mind, in my heart and in my sight. I recall the first time you spoke to me. You were only 9 and eager to get home after hat seemed to be an unnecessary lesson on water baptism. As you said those words, and opened you heart to me, you were too young to realise their significance...13 years later, what a young lady you've turned out to be!


Now, in response to your request; you asked me to lead you and to give you specific instructions for a minute-by-minute walk with me. You asked for clarity on passion and why you seem to have been left out of the great loop- passionless and dreamless. You asked for hope. Beloved one, I have already answered your requested. I responded before you asked. I gave you the sun, which shows only a fraction on the intensity of my love for you. I gave you my word so that you would have a second-by-second guide on how to be. I also gave you my Son so that you would never ever be afraid to come to me.


My love, I see your struggles. I know the number of tears you have cried. I know that your heart is so shattered that you doubt it can be pieced back together. I know your fatigue after working all day and getting- nothing! My love, I know you. Do not fear the mountain. I created it for you to climb. I planned all of this, wounds, sores, aches and all. I see the end. Trust me, my love. I will not fail you.


You are unique, complete and exquisite. But do not think that you are so unique that I cannot define you. You are my loved one. You are my dove. I will not leave you hopeless and dreamless. Watch now as the seed planted years ago shoots out of the earth as a little seedling. If you were a mere garden vegetable, you would have sprouted already, born fruit and passed on. However, your destiny is greater.


You, my dear one, are the stuff that legends are made of. There will be talk of you long after you are gone. You will not live or die unnoticed. You are like a might oak tree, not a bean plant. So you need to dig deep into the earth, establish a foundation that can bear the greatness to come. Be patient as I mould you, patient as I work on my masterpiece.


I have loved you from the beginning and I always will.

Forever yours


Daddy

p.s. Take a look outside your window. That rainbow is a sign of my promise to you. I will not leave you to your own defences. I am here.

Saturday 18 April 2009

Check your mail, friend

Hullo friend, it’s been a while
I’ve been speaking but you won’t listen to me
I’ve been weeping but you won’t comfort me
I was hurt but you would not see it
So I shouted but you couldn’t hear me
I reached out for an simple embrace but you were never in that place
(I thought you weren’t interested so I changed my approach)

I asked, I spoke, I waited; but there was never a response
I joked, I laughed; but you never joined in
I asked how you spent the last 24 hours
But you wouldn’t spare me 12 seconds for a reply
(So I gave up)

I’m beginning to think there is more than just space between us
Maybe you find my style hideous or I upset you in some way
I just wanted to share times with a friend
But you were to busy, too bored, or too tired to reply
It’s 5 years (1825 days, 43,800 hours, 2,628,000 minutes, 157,680,000 seconds) too late, friend
but if you’re still interested, check your mail

Monday 6 April 2009

14 hours, 30 minutes and 1000 kilometres later... (Time, distance and tears)

I find myself back in the comfort of the familiar.
Everything’s changed,
Yet it’s all different.
I’m falling on a cushion;
And also, grating my flesh on a rock.
I must have been awake
But part of it seemed too good
The rest was pain I wish to forget.


I find myself standing in front of the mirror;
Surprised by my own smile,
And scared by the bruises over my heart.
Can the same breath contain joy and pain?
Can the same thing bring happiness and sorrow?
I asked, I wanted to know.
Now that I know,
Part of me wishes to withdraw the request.
Truth is freedom;
Help my unbelief
As I struggle with it.

I find myself thinking;
Of the one that I left and the one that I met
The first, I know is a story that’s ended
Yet the lashes of pain continue
The second, I know, is a mirage
But my pounding heart is no illusion

I find myself at the window;
Standing and staring.
The thickness is filled by distance, time and tears
They bring me back;
This time they remind me of You.
You’ve brought me thus far
I trust that we can endure, no, celebrate more
Together.


I find myself drowning, again
In You

Monday 30 March 2009

Darest I to be free?

God answers prayers!! I am free. And only now do I realise that I didn’t prepare for it. I struggled with a nagging back-of-the-mind worry that is not really intense but is always there. There always seems to be something occupying my mind (heart).I’ve been sweating, saving, planning and sacrificing to others for so long that I had settled into this routine and was unprepared to experience freedom.


To give this some sort of context, I’ll digress into a bit of my recent history. I’m in my 4th and final year (in the name of Jesus!) of study at the University of Cape Town (UCT). I’ll graduate with a BSc in Chemical Engineering in December this year. [The details and miracles that are my academic results are another testimony for another day] The past 3 years have been a financial obstacle course for my parents since they had to foot my school bill (+R70000). My parents are lecturers at Makerere University-all Ugandans should know that that implies that funding my academic ventures was, to say the least, challenging.


Last year, I was worried about my 3rd year internship which I had to do in order to graduate this year. I stressed, fussed and prayed about it all the time. I was particularly worried because I am a non-SADC African foreigner in SA- a bad combination. Plus Chemical Engineering is not exactly a thriving profession in Uganda. I thought it would be difficult to find the ‘right’ job. However, God had more faith in me. I got a chance to live and work in Germany for 3 months. All I had to pay for was half my airfare to and from Germany while everything-right down to visa and train fare-was catered for by the German government and UCT.


Like a typical human, instead of remembering this victory I moved on to worry about the next item on my agenda. I am part of a group at my church that’s been raising funds to bring Peruvians to SA. I began worrying about the difficulties that we would face. God, being God, continued to provide, making it possible for us to bring 2 Peruvians to SA. They arrive in Johannesburg on Tuesday!


Again, like a typical human, I stopped very briefly to praise God for that victory and then proceeded to worry about my UCT fees for the year. After the crisis last year, the fees were inflated and I‘m paying something like 15% more than last year. This year was more drama than ever. I had trouble with my registration academically and in my residence. I was about ready to pack up and head home when God, being God, put me in my rightful place, again.


I applied for an AU scholarship 2 years ago. After chasing the AU, various trips by my parents to Addis, knocking on people’s doors and worrying about paying bills and UCT fees for 3 years, I had almost given up. God, being God, never gives up and proved to be as faithful as ever. Last week, the scholarship deal was sealed. It covers my entire tuition, a return trip to home and a sizeable stipend.


I’ve been praying for freedom to live and to be without worrying about the details of life. I prayed so that even though I knew I had to face them, I could do so without great panic. I prayed that they would no become a dark cloud over my head.


So I sit here, tears of gladness streaming down my cheeks and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m usually quick to pen down my worries. I find it easier to share pains and woes. Now that I find myself in a different set of circumstances, I’m a bit slow in my response. It’s finally hit me that I need not worry because God really is greater than anything I can place in front of Him. I am free! I think this is similar to the unusual feeling prisoners have when released from bondage. What now?


Jesus the Christ, as written in John’s account of the good news, says that He came so that we (I) would receive life and life in abundance. Luke’s account reports that Jesus spoke of giving-mentioning that if we (I) give, it will be given back to us (me) pressed down shaken together and running over. The measure of goodness we (I) apply to others will be the same that God will use for us (me).


Once again, God, being God and being in the business of creation, birthed a plan and passion in my heart. He continues to confirm that He’s all I need in every area of life-not just financially but spiritually, academically, emotionally etc. And now that I know I am free, I know that I should, I ought to, lead others to this freedom.


“Lord, may I remember your grace to me and, even more, how important it is for me to extend this grace to those I meet.”

Friday 27 March 2009

In the beginning, God

It starts at the break of dawn
It starts at the beat of a heart
Every smile; every tear
Every laugh; every fear

You start by holding my hand
You start by leading me on
You’re there at the beginning of my journey
You’re there when I take
My first step, First word
First smile, First flutter of my eyelids

It starts in the arms of she who birthed me
It starts when I’m holding the hand of he who loves me
You’re there when I’m crying
You comfort me when I’m sad
My first friend, first kiss
First fight, First hug

It starts in the middle of a classroom
So many eyes on me now
I’m searching for help
It seems You have left me

It starts when I get my first ‘A’
I think I did it on my own
I forget that You’re with me
It breaks Your heart to see me turn the other way
First class, First prize, First goal
First time I turned me eyes away from You

It starts when she walks into my life
Taking my place, stealing my light
It starts when he takes over
I am forgotten, no longer the only one
First child, last thought
My first love is gone

It starts when she calls me over
Calls me her friend, invites me to her circle
It starts but they don’t seem to like me
Once again, I feel alone
Last choice; lost hope; Invisible;
My first heartache begins

It starts when he sits at my corner
It starts when he holds my hand
It’s been a while anyone’s seen me
His smile melts my heart
First crush; new hope; First ‘love’
My second heartache begins

It starts in the middle of another class
The smile at me, telling me to hold on
It starts and this one never ended
They still see invisible-me
My loves; my lights; my joys
My very best

It starts when he showers me with his love
He says I’m his angel and this must be heaven
It starts but I could never hold on
We’re together but I still feel alone
No hope; no way; no chance
My third heartache begins

It starts at the back of a dark closet
It starts when no one else can see me
I know I’m wrong, too tired to fight it
Years later, I wish I had fought
You see me, You see my struggle
You’re there but I choose to turn the other way

It starts at the break of another dawn
Your light shines through my darkest night
Though I think I’m sinking deeper
You catch me and carry me home
New hope, new life,
New chance, again

It starts when he smiles into my eyes
I’m out of breath, swept of my feet
It starts and our hearts fit together
I was sure this was the final one
My home, my him, my hope
My fourth heartache begins

It starts and I forget my first love
I run my own way, choose my own path
It starts and I think I’ve got it covered
Till it’s too late, shattered pieces on the floor
Last chance, lost hope,
I’ve lost my faith once more

It starts and I’m back at the beginning
Counting heartbeats, laughs, steps and tears
This time we’re in it together
I’ll follow, You lead me on
First love, first hope
My life, my miracle
My all

Tuesday 24 March 2009

Ambushed by Joy

I have been fortunate enough to see joy in those around me

It’s in the eyes of a child when his father or mother picks him up an swings him around

It’s on the face of he whose beloved is in sight or in thought


It’s in the sunrise, as the sun’s radiance flushes the darkness away

It’s in the rain, refreshingly real

It’s in the laughter of friends

And in the hands of the dedicated worker


It’s in my father’s smile when he speaks of me

And in my mother’s warm embrace

And in Sunday lunch


I see it around me

Everywhere

But I still fight it;

I keep it from getting into me

Afraid that it may be a passing illusion

A child’s game

Fool’s play


Then you came along and I yearn for it once more

I did not see or expect it


My choice was to walk this path with you


Your gift for me was


Joy

Tuesday 20 January 2009

Grace

It's 10 PM. She faithfully kneels down to pray. In the privacy of the darkness, she shows You her heart, scars and all. She dares not lift her head. But I can still see the tears streaming down her beautiful face. I would have thought that, by now, You would know when, where and how to meet her. If it were up to me, this would be the last time she would cry. These would be her last tears... If it were up to me, this would be the last time that she would fight with grief.

I'm startled when I hear her say my name, in the midst of her sobs. Perhaps she has noticed I was listening in on her intimate moments? Finally, I understand. It is not her personal grief that wears her down. She is scarred because she is fighting for my life. She chose to bear my burden. So, in a way, it is up to me... 

Monday 19 January 2009

Me, as I was

Once upon a time, you held my heart. I feel that I need to be true to myself; I need to remember what it felt like to hold your hand. I need to remind myself of how much joy I derived from walking by your side. I need to re-capture the colours and sounds that seemed so glorious because you were sharing them with me. I need to re-ignite the warmth of love, surrounding and almost suffocating me. I need to resurrect those memories that I had buried. I need to remember how much you loved to laugh and dance. I need to play your song again so that I can remember what it was like to keep time with your heartbeat.

The very thoughts that stabbed me in the back are the ones that I need to remember. These same thoughts taunted and haunted me like demons. They laughed at my weak attempts to hold onto my dreams. They teased me because I imagined that there was hope for us to be. Hope turned and slapped me in the face, forced me onto a bed of hot coal and,  then, danced all over my sore back. For a while it seemed like the more I hoped, the more I hurt. That was when I decided to stop remembering and to stop dreaming. The songs and laughter were easily replaced by bitterness and tears. Once again, you held my heart and you were making slow deliberate marks on it with hot iron nails. . .

Today, I remember the colours, the flowers and the hours we spent together. I want to remember how brightly you shone in the light of my adoration. I have learnt that no matter how real the pain was, it matters not. Well, not that much. I know that if I can remember our laughter and joy, I will be able to push past that and remember what I was before. My heart is not yours to toy with anymore. I remember what it felt like to see through your eyes. But, best of all, I finally remember what I was before I was yours. I am free. 


It is for freedom that I live. I live because I am free. I am free because I live. 

Saturday 17 January 2009

changing things (a year later)

it's small things, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, that will be my undoing.



i like earthquakes, whirlwinds, hurricanes and storms. they are predictable and larger than life. i know that if they hit me i wont be able to get up for a while. i know that i can expect a huge dramatic change. i can prepare for that.

i struggle to deal with slight tremors and persistent drizzles. they are like tiny larvae eating away at a leafy tree. they seem so small, so insignificant. but, given time, they turn out to be as dreadful as the storm. the major difference is that i won't notice them immediately. the tremors continue to shake foundations and the drizzle continues to hit the rock. one day, some day, the foundations suddenly give way and the rock splits. no matter how hard i try, i can never predict this. i can never prepare for it. 

a year later, i am forced to admit the power of slight changes. i look for larger-than-life signs. i look for great winds and pursue the brightest stars only to find that my end comes through a gentle breeze and a lazy glow. a year later, i must admit that the most damage came from the most surprising sources. i was slipping so slowly i didn't notice until it was too late. i was half-way to the floor. 

a year later, the greatest pains arose from the shortest conversations. there were months of dreaming then mere minutes later hope was gone. it happened so cleverly. i had trusted. i had believed. i had hoped. 

a year later and i still don't know how to steady myself against changing things. i should know better by now.