Learning to breathe

Archive for the tag “christianity”

Letter from God

Dear children,

It has been awhile since I last wrote you. Do not think that it is because I do not care or I am too busy for I always care for you and I can never be too busy to attend to the very beings I prize above all my other creations.

Today’s letter is meant to admonish you. It is to correct the notion that most of you have. The notion that drives you to believe that you being comfortable is my way of saying I am pleased with you. And that when you are uncomfortable, you lose your job, loved one, loved thing that I am unhappy with you.

It is not true. It has never been true and it will never be.

I am closest to the depressed, the broken, the weak and especially the losers. Material things do not express the depth of my love for each of you. Do not praise or thank me only when things are going well for you. Come boldly to me when they are not. I am here. Do not let hurt, failures or disappointments drive you away from me. It is a trick. Come to me, converse with me, obey me and watch things change for you from within your heart till it spreads out in full bloom to everything and everybody around you.

I am not content with a “God-first” tweet dedication, or an occasional lump offering. Let me be a part of your heart. Let me do beautiful things with it. Change may be painful but it will always be for your good.

Your Father,


My Mommy’s Day

It’ll be seven years this year since I last tasted your pancakes

Since I last gave you the hug you wanted

Since I last prayed with you that God would let you stay

Since daddy cried

Since Seyi emerged from boyhood and I was thrust into womanhood

Since I last saw you, the only woman I could ever love this much.

I hate to say to you that I haven’t always been your shining little angel

I hate to say that I didn’t study Law like you wanted me too

I hate to say that I gave dad an awful hard time

I hate to say that I don’t know how you would have me act towards my step mom.

I hate to say that I don’t think of you as much as I swore I would

I hate to say that I hate saying “My mom is late.”
When you are still alive to me.

If you were here today I would’ve given you a kiss on your lips

I would’ve bought you a dress

I would’ve painted your nails for you

I would’ve told you about the boy that makes my heart flutter and how I almost broke his the other day

You would’ve said “I want you to be better than me.”

“You’re a Queen.”

“You’ll marry a good man.”

You would’ve given me a hug

And I teary-eyed would’ve given you one right back.

With your eyes,

You would’ve told me that there isn’t any need for the extreme mushiness.

And you would’ve smiled.

The smile that I have mastered in the seven years you’ve been gone.

It doesn’t feel the same so all I ask, mommy, is for you to smile down at me today

Smile down at me today

Pastor’s Kid

Growing up, I was “taught” to act in a certain stereotyped way by people. My parents were not among these people.

In Primary School, whenever I did something wrong, my teacher would say something like “And her father is a pastor” to her colleague. When I got to secondary school, I made sure nobody knew my dad was a pastor. It worked for awhile. Then I changed schools. My new school was a catholic girls only school far from my home and in the middle of nowhere. At the time it was like someone pulled the ground from under me and squeezed the air out of my lungs. For awhile I tried to act like a girl that was in a catholic single sex school. Soon I found out that none of the girls that were in there acted that way.

Well, it’s my second year at university and I don’t care much if people know my dad’s a pastor or not. As a matter of fact, I enjoy the shock I give them when they find out.

If you’re a PK (pastor’s kid) people either expect you to turn out just like your parent(s) or they expect you to go the opposite way…all the way down. But in reality, PKs are not born with extra capacity for righteousness. We are just like the rest of you with “normal” parents.

In a way, my dad never put any pressure on me to be like him. Yes, he taught my siblings and I to love God all the time growing up. He still does. But he let’s me make my own mistakes. It’s something I will always be thankful for.

The allowance to fall, bruise, go the wrong way.

It’s been five months and some I actually committed myself to God. I still make mistakes but when I do, I go back to Him who I wandered away from in the first place. I used to ask myself: “Am I doing this right?” “Am I Christian enough?” But I have come to understand that I can never be Christian enough. I can only be a better person than I was yesterday.

To those who expect me to act a certain way, make your own life count because in the end, you’re only here for awhile and well…

I’m sorry. I will disappoint you till I die.

Letter from God

Dear Children,

It is sunday again. Most of you will be going to church today. Not all of you will be going for the right reasons but you will be going anyway.

Some of you will come to my house and sing I Surrender All to me but when you leave my house you go back and do whatever you please. Another group of you will come to my house and sing Jesus Take The Wheel to me when in reality you grip the wheel tightly. You only fool yourselves.

It is above your human minds to fully comprehend the love I have for you.
All of you.
Stop putting yourselves on the path of hurt and “independence”. Come to me. Depend on me.

Do not hold on to grudges, they only eat you up inside. The person you have a grudge against is going around without a bomb on his head. Let it go. Not for him or her, but for yourselves.

If you will be in my house today, know that I am there and that I love you. I will drive your lives only if you let go of the wheel.

Your Helper,

Letters From God

Dear Ibukun and other people with similar questions,

I’m glad you responded. First of all, you should know that there’s something special and unique about everything I created. I smiled when I read your letter. Typical, witty, Ibukun. You always have something to say. Channel that energy in the right place, and you’ll do beautiful things, through me, of eternal significance.

Now, to attend to your questions.

Nigeria is not messed up. You want to see somewhere messed up? Try Iraq. As much as it displeases me to see so much pain and suffering, I will not step into human affairs and manipulate it. The power to change your lives is in your hands. I have given it to you. I am that little voice guiding Jonathan in his head. I am the little voice advising you not to be so headstrong. I hear prayers for peace in your country and I answer them. Not that I cannot instantly wipe your brains and make all of you do good. I can. But I will not. By doing that I’ll take away your freewill and reduce you to robots. Instead, I will work through people that are willing to let me work through them. Next time you want to do something not so nice, listen to me.

Jonathan is not a dummy. He is one of my special creations. Calling him a dummy is calling my work of art rubbish. He is one man not the entire government. He does not make those decisions on his own. As a matter of fact, he’s more of a representative of the others than the decision maker. He is not just your president, he is also a husband, father, uncle, son, etc. Right now, he feels he is the most hated man on earth and he desires to do what’s best for his country. Be patient with him.

Blowing up Aso Rock will not be to your advantage dear one. That is all I will tell you on this subject. Pray for you country with faith.

You have a step mom because if your father had tried to raise you on his own you wouldn’t be what you are right now. You think you’re such a nut now? Picture having only your dad six years before now. You’d be a nutcase( a nutcase is worse than a nut ) right now.

You are broke because you let yourself become broke. I warned you when you started to splurge but “No” sounded like “I don’t know if you should get this color of extensions.” Spend your money wisely. On things you need not things you fancy because, my dear, you fancy too much (and this goes for the rest of you). At least try to be frugal until you get a job.

You don’t have pictures from the shoot simply because they aren’t ready yet. George has a lot on his hands but he hasn’t forgotten you or your pictures. Rest in the assurance that something beautiful is going to be made out of them.

Jon Foreman didn’t wait for you because he does not know you. How can he wait for someone he doesn’t even know exists? Could you cope with him being away from home so much as attention desiring as you are? Could he cope with your occasional trouble making when he is hardly home in the first place? Blindly, you will answer positively. But I know you even more than you know yourself. You’d get bored, then frustrated and leave him.

You attract all kinds of men, dear one, because you are beautiful on the inside and outside. Unfortunately, the ones you pay attention to are more interested in your proportions than what is in your heart. You want the tall, dark, handsome man you see on television how many of this kind of men have given you the happiness you want? None. And then you come running back to me when your heart is bleeding. Re-interview the men you have friend-zoned. And stop seeking fulfillment in a man. You will never find it. They are mere humans and can never meet the unrealistic expectations you have of them. Instead, look to me. I will give you fulfillment and help you seek a man willing to love your mind more than your body.

If you had super powers, my love, half Nigeria’s population would be gone. The other half would be subject to you. You would misuse those powers, not because you are evil but because your good intentions would cloud your judgment so much that you would want everything to be perfect in your eyes which is impossible. You know it yourself. You’re doing just fine with that smile. That’s all the ‘super power’ you’ll get.

You don’t have blue eyes because if I’d given you blue eyes, you’d want green eyes two years later. Then grey, then you’d want them brown all over again, then you’d want a pink unicorn. If it’ll make you happy, get a pair of blue contact lens.

You want to be Rihanna eh? She has her fair share of problems. The grass is not greener on the other side. Sometimes, as glamorous as she is, she wishes she could be like every other normal person. She cries when she’s hurt and she laughs when she is happy just like you.

And finally about reincarnation…would you pass up a chance to be with your mother forever so you could be Rihanna? I think not.

Love always,

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