I write this letter with mixed feelings – the feeling of being loved from an unsafe distance and the feeling of being abandoned in darkness to die. I have finally found the courage to turn my pains into poetry, using the teardrops from my bleeding heart to graciously paint the portrait of a father I wanted but couldn’t find in you.
Life has been a medley of flood and flames, I have had my fair share of sunny days – days I wished my father would be a patch of shade in the scourging sun. I have also had my fair share of rainy days – days, when I felt the saltiness of my teardrops mix with the coldness of raindrops to give me the kind of fever only a father’s love can cure.
Life is nothing but a potpourri of ups and downs, and as a thirty-five years old man, I have had many up moments when fears and frustration were high. I have witnessed many down moments when funds and faith were outrageously low.
These moments left me with the scars of bad decisions and indecisions. I wished your words were a lamp to my feet and the light to my way when the fragrant fires of life lured me into avoidable affliction.
Like a lone tree on a highway, at my prime, when fruits were fresh and my leaves were flourishing, many wayfarers threw stones and pebbles at me, and I wished your words were a shield in which I could take refuge. When drought stole the grace of my existence, I wished your love would cascade with bliss to revive my dying soul.
Maybe I was too focused on you for nourishment, and so it was easy to blame you for my starvation. I was pointlessly waiting on you to free me, thinking that you are not the rock of my salvation. Over and over again, you didn’t show up when I needed you the most, and this messed up my mind.
The things you didn’t say were louder than the things you said. I still feel the echoes of your silence piercing through the fabrics of my tender heart. The things you didn’t do were more forgivable than the things you did. I was expecting you to fill a vacuum no mortal man can fill.
I kept drowning in the ocean of negative emotions, my heart broke into a million messy pieces yet you couldn’t hear the sound of my heart crashing, because you were too far to feel the pulse of my pain and see the tapestry of my troubles.
All these years, I wished I could have a real conversation with you to tell you my story, I wanted you to see how emotional neglect brews streams of sorrow, tears and blood. But maybe I was too childish to see things from your perspective.
Maybe there was more to what I saw. Maybe you are a bleeding man with a broken spirit, maybe you lived a more terrible tale than mine, maybe you are bred from a cycle of emotional neglect, maybe we are all shattered souls from a bleeding bloodline. Maybe I was raised for such a time as this to break that cycle of struggles and introduce Jesus Christ the Cornerstone and my Anchor to the ground. The one who was sent to connect all dying men to the healing bloodline – our eternal ancestry.
This letter would be incomplete if I do not tell you everything that happened in your absence. How Christ picked me up from the pit of perdition, washed me in the stream of salvation and clothed me with the robe of redemption which He bought with His precious blood on Calvary’s tree.
He reconnected me to my real Father and nullified the negativity that your absence brought into my life. In Him, I discovered my true identity as a son of God and reclaimed my dignity as a royal priest.
He revealed my truth to me and this changed everything. Now I know that before I was formed in my mother’s womb, God knew. He made me in His image and likeness to proclaim the wonders of His love and light. I am king bred from a chosen generation and a holy nation. I am not just another baggage of blunders but a mortal masterpiece, God’s precious work of art – blood type: humanity, DNA: divinity.
My intention is not to make you regret your past errors or feel sad for the painful memories that time cannot heal. I am glad that your absence led me into God’s precious presence. My hunger for a father’s love led me into His warm embrace, and now in my heart, God has a permanent place.
I am no longer the same, I no longer live in the valley of shame. I am a mobile miracle, a walking wonder and a slice of paradise, just like heaven on earth – God lives and reigns in my heart.
If God gives me my own children someday, I hope to represent the Heavenly father better than you did. I pray that I will wield the wisdom of God and the help of the Holy Spirit to be vitally connected to my children in ways that will make God proud.
This is not to say that you are not worthy of appreciation. Even the best of fathers cannot fill the God-shaped hole in every child’s heart. So you see why some children struggle to accept the love of God, hoping that He is not the unseen version of the imperfect fathers on earth, some of whom have badly represented God in words and deeds.
I must say that it took some defining moments for me to acknowledge that God is the perfect portrait of fatherhood. The One true father that every father on earth longs to be like even at their weakest. This understanding has brought me to a point where I can genuinely say that I am no longer bitter, and from the depth of my heart, I forgive you, I honour you and love you, dear father.
The brightest atmosphere is the one with different specks of sparkles,daylight and twilight cascading diversity.Autumn and winter, spring and summer,exquisite expression of nature’s multiplicity.Nightwalkers and daydreamers, go-getters and sweet talkers,exceptional energies expressed differently. All men relish the rarity of the rainbow,It epitomises the splendour of diversity,with different shades of grace and glamoursuspended in grey and […]
I choose to be a sacred sanctuary. It does not matter whether I am a cottage in a slum, or a castle with a luxury lawn. Whatever I am, I will welcome divinity into myself with arms open wide. I want heaven’s glow to be evident, as a signal glimpse of the bliss within me.
If my roof is thatched, let it be the shadow of the Almighty. If my tank is half full, let its content be the water of life. If all I have left is five loaves of bread, let it be blessed by Jireh. I want to hungry, thirsty and desperate for more of God’s love, light and life.
I want to shine with shalom when my heart quakes with cares or when the rod of life breaks my passion that I silently crash into a million broken pieces. A million messy pieces, a million scars proclaiming God’s mercies every morning.
I want to lie down in green pastures, and make God’s promises the pillows on which I lay my hurting head. When my thoughts are nothing but a colourful crown of thorns that fuels grief and starves my faith, I will hold them with hope, and nurture them with truth, until they evolve into a wreath – a diadem of grace around my head.
I will not plunge into the pool of self-pity, panic and pressure. With joy, I will draw water from the well of hope and salvation. Whether the day is dark or the twilight stars sleep in despair. God is in this temple, heaven is here. there is light in tunnels and dark alleys, there is joy in the valley of shadows.
I am a portrait of possibilities, I am here to happen, and made to manifest. I am salt, I am lustrous light, I am God’s sanctuary. I am enough.
Self-esteem, also known as self-worth, is the impression people have of themselves. The feeling of being valuable and liked. Your self-esteem involves a variety of notions about yourself, such as your appearance, your emotions and how you measure your achievements or failures.
Over the years, I have had seasons when I doubted my worth. Days when I feel unloved and unworthy of life. In some of these moments, by divine providence, some of my friends send nice notes to me in the form of testimonials, quotes, poems or compliments. This helps me to connect to my core and also realise that I am not as worthless as I feel in my darkest hours.
I will be sharing some of these testimonials in my new blog series ‘Tapestry of Testimonials’. Enjoy these beautiful pieces written by my amazing sister and friend from the Philippines, Alerma Grace. We met on Yourquote.in and grew to become best friend’s. I call her my Sweet Sister Bear (SSB)
How do you deal with low self-esteem? Do you think validation from others helps to boost self-esteem?
I was sauntering, desperately searching for perfection, I got broken while passionately trying to fix this perpetual puzzle. Who said there is a missing piece? Who said I need some unravelling? I wish I had known that I am enough and everything I crave is within me.
Struggling to prove my worth, I became blind to my uniqueness. Some said a facelift is all I needed to finally find and deploy my gift. Who said I am broken beyond fixing? Who said I need to be flawless? I wish I had known that I am enough and everything I crave is within me
Craving for validation, I became a slave to conditional love starved of authentic attention till I became bereft of inner bliss. Now I filter people’s opinion about me with the lens of pure love and light. I wish I had known that I am enough and everything I crave is within me.
The Nigerian government has indefinitely suspended Twitter two days after the social media giant removed a post by the nation’s president, Muhammadu Buhari.
The news of the ban was greeted with baseless banters and slight outrage with a touch of social media ‘cruise’. This has left many people wondering if this nation still the giant of Africa or the groaning ant of Africa.
I wonder if this generation is still a ‘woke’ generation or a joke. Are we not seeing the signs of a impending implosion or we just want to remain indifferent in the face of wordless violence from the people in power?
In my pain, I wrote this, hoping that we will wake up and tame the looming disaster.