The Pain of Regret

My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? John 14:2

 

My best friend died…

Did he even know he was my best friend? 

Crazy how death  will cause you to sober up. These past few years have been the toughest. Losing loved ones, like flies on a hot day. Each death leaving you in state of numbness but knowing life must go on.

My best friend died. The hardest part of all, I never got the chance to say goodbye.

 

We had lost contact for a few years or so. I can’t even begin to tell you I know the reason why.

Life.

He was busy, I was busy.

Time flew by.

I still remember the first day I laid eyes on him. Yes, you could say it was instant. My attraction towards him was unquestionable. It would be the craziest whirlwind, of friendship and frolics to take place at our shared house at university.

Year 2000 the year I would meet my tall, cinnamon handsome-african prince. I  knew instantly that I liked him, and as time went on we fast became close. My regrets are that I played too many games. Afraid of commitment, I told too many lies.

Anything to push away the prospect of something deep and perhaps meaningful. I didn’t mind sleeping with him, but giving my heart would be something far too expensive. He soon became my safe place. We shared so many secrets and in my lowest moments he was always there for me.

I knew he was sick from the fist time we had met. He told me he suffered from sickle-cell, lupus to name a few. But man, was he ever the soul of a party. Never did I see this guy down in the dumps about life. Every so often, he would become frustrated and rightly so. His health was important to me and I recall the many hours spent with him in hospital after a crisis. I never got scared about the possibility of him dying to be honest. Death was far away from my thoughts of him in those early days.  Never thought i’d see the dash between his birth. Never knew how soon that time would come. Somehow I always thought  i’d have forever with him. That perhaps one day, I’ll fix up and maybe one day, just one day I’ll wear his last name.

The pain of regret is one of the hardest things we will ever endure in this life time. The numerous questions rolling around in our thoughts about what we could’ve done better, had we known. 

Truth is, I didn’t know. If I had known I would’ve told him how much he truly meant to me. I would’ve chosen to spend our time together  better, and stopped playing so many mind games. I might’ve forgiven quicker the things he’d do that would cause us to fall out for days, or weeks and now what would become a lifetime.

Finding out he died, was a huge shock to my system. For weeks I struggled to sleep, to eat and basically continue a normal life. He was everywhere I went, convinced he was finding me to say his goodbyes. I saw him at every bus station, restaurant, and road…

Just the other day  I decided to call his number. I rang a phone number I knew no longer was in service. As I looked down at the number in desperation to hear his voice, just once. I knew. It was then it had hit home. Screaming aloud his name, but no one answered. Why didn’t he answer me, didn’t he know I would be calling. Some days are better than others, but one thing for sure is that loosing someone who you never had the opportunity to say goodbye to, is the most painful of all.  Truth is, we suffer this regret because of the wasted opportunities we had but never made good use of.

You see, he was my best friend. You don’t know how furious writing that makes me feel, right now. How can someone be your best friend, someone you spent so much time with  yet remained hidden from. How could he have been my safe place? Why didn’t I take off the  mask and reveal my true self? Why did I not share the things that truly mattered; what was I really afraid of anyhow? Seriously, how could I have allowed time to come between us. Didnt time know that I was busy. It was never supposed to be that long. We would’ve spoken again. In fact we did; a month before he died. We got back in touch. We were meant to meet up for lunch. I called him, he never answered. It troubled me that he never answered, afraid of invading his new-found love, I chose to step back.

Oh how I regret that decision.

He  was that friend that would call me and stay on the phone with me until the early hours of the morning, most calls would have us both asleep on the other end. He was that friend that I could confide in, and tell almost anything to. He kept my mind from running away from itself when I became pregnant at uni. When everyone else disappeared, he proved to me that he was that friend who would never leave me, nor forsake me. He was my Emmanuel (that was his name) he was always there.

I made some terrible choices. Choices I would forever live with, and choices I am not at all proud off.

But not once did he judge me, or ever made me  to feel worthless. Throughout my pregnancy, he was there.  He showed me grace, and although the baby wasn’t his, that made no difference to the wealth of support he gave to me.

I remember the one time we finally decided to give ‘us’ a chance. It didn’t last long. Being his girlfriend petrified me to say the least. I definitely knew I wasn’t mature enough to be anyones’ girlfriend. I was way too messed up to be in a meaningful relationship.

Heck, if I couldn’t even stay faithful to Jesus; the likelihood of staying faithful to anyone was a slim chance. In those days sex was my weapon of defence, my escape and crazy as it sounds my control mechanism. I needed the comfort of being close to someone but never really being close enough to give them the parts of me that were vulnerable. Lost and hurting, I would make up lies that would soon break up apart.  He deserved better than me, I was broken goods. Fit for no use, I had no business being united with anyone in a deeper way.

 

 

What would life had been like if I was just honest with him about who I really was, a broken girl running away to university to escape the realities of life.

She was incapable of love, incapable to give love. She never knew who she was or the worth she carried.

Man I MISS HIM!

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I pray that he is smiling down at me; proud of the woman I have grown into becoming. These days I live with him in mind. Him and the many others I no longer have the privilege of saying I love you to. That’s why I live my best life, on purpose and without regret or fear of others and their opinions. You see, he taught me how not to give a monkeys about what others thought about him, he spoke his mind and lived passionately.

Please don’t wait until it’s too late to tell someone just how much they mean to you.

Learn to forgive quickly

Love deeply

and at all times live authentically. 

 

My greatest recompense is that there is heaven, and that one day we will see each other again.

“Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” John 14:1,2

It’s kind of hard wit you not around

Know you in heaven smilin’ down

Watchin’ us while we pray for you

Everyday we pray for you

Till the day we meet again

In my heart is where I’ll keep you friend

Memories give me the strength I need to proceed

Strength I need to believe

My thoughts big I just can’t define

Wish I could turn back the hands of time

Us in luton

Shop for new clothes and kicks

You and me getting Tatts

Talkin all hours on the phone

Still can’t believe you’re gone

Give anything to hear half your breath

I know you still livin’ your life after death

(I’ll be missing you) -added my own lyrics to it

Signed,

No more regrets

I am Woman

 

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More precious than jewels

I’m  more than a face, and more than a body.

I’m more than a vehicle used for pleasure.

And much more than a gentle kiss and a soft caress.

So much more than a cheap date and a night-cap.

I deserve more than sweet words and empty promises.

More than a longing and a wishing for something that isn’t forced and comes without resistance.

I am a woman built with stones of turquoise

My foundations with sapphires and my battlements made out of rubies.

My gates of sparkling jewels, and my walls of precious stones.

I am more; precious than rubies

Born for such a time as this

My worth far exceeds your temporary validation.

Even after the applause dies down

My worth will continue till the ends of the earth .

You see, I am woman 

Made for the completion of man

The perfecting of his needs

To bring him help.

Without me he’s made without function

I bring value to the promise.

Entrusted by the maker to be so much more than eye candy.

I lost the worth in my value

Lost the price tag that used to be attached to me.

So many have come by to have a look, but without care left me back on the shelf to gather dust.

Some didn’t even take a second glance,

Others simply stared.

They don’t see the work that’s gone into the perfecting of my splendour

I am much more!!!

Desperate to scream out this truth

But choked with dust and inferiority I sat there allowing potential buyers to devalue my virtue.

Bartering rates to lessen my price.

Until one day I found my voice

I am worth more and refuse to settle for anything less… 

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Lost &found

Jewel ❤️

Are we there yet?

Firstly let me begin by saying what a joy and what a blessing it is to see 2017. 2016 wasn’t easy. But it took all of that to get me here.

Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.

This year the difference marker is me and you deciding our language of where we will go before we even get there. So if we are intentional about making this our best year yet. Then our language ought to be a reflection of a winner by grace.

Anyone who’s ever traveled with children, would remember the often-asked question, “Are we there yet?” If you are anything like me, then you easily become just as irritated by the long distance as your kid does. But never dare to admit it, until you become frustrated like we see in this scene when Shrek and Fiona’s finally exploded with a scream.

We are not so much dissimilar to our children who want to “get there” NOW.  Silently we are screaming the question, repeatedly in our heads. Hoping that no one can hear.

Are we there yet?

Often times it’s our response that makes the journey all the more unbearable. Journeys in itself can appear to be an adventure if we allow it to be.  Each milestone moving us farther way from the familiar and distancing us from our comfort, into the unknown. As you go on your journey every place, feels like the first time,  adventurous, sometimes terrifying in every way.

Looking out of the window frequently, I remember my first major journey at age  10.  Travelling unaccompanied on the plane, never realising that (He) was always with me. This journey would be the mother of all journeys I would have experienced up until that point.

 

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Growing up in Africa, the farthest I travelled to, was the village market. Or on special occasions, Lumley beach. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine getting on the plane to come to the United Kingdom. It felt foreign to me, that this place I once called home would soon become a distant memory. Africa at that time for me wasn’t ideal. Away from my parents, I suffered many injustices. So you could say the thought of travelling to a new address, with hopes, joy, excitement, peace, a fresh start  would be  my first encounter to restoration mansion.

Just the name in itself was so grand, it was overwhelming for this country girl. Leaving behind the familiar, memories, and people. Several decades later, I would make another journey that would change my life.

When restoration mansion was conceived in my spirit, I knew it would take all kind of fight to get me to the final stages of delivery.  Just like my pregnancy journey to motherhood did. The fight to be allowed to keep my baby, the fight to provide for him and the fight to continually learn through the process that the journey is not a destination. Motherhood would in fact introduce me to myself. Had I aborted the process, I dare to imagine what would have become of my young fragile life.

For every mama reading this, we know the struggle all too well. Labour isn’t as smooth sailing as the movies would have us believe. Life has taught us that even what appears to be the final stages of delivery, the  journey itself would cost lives. Not everyone gets to deliver what they have been carrying. That is why, our attitude throughout the process is the distinguishing characteristic of believers.

On the journey there are no quick fixes. Journeys take time and movement. They also take direction. Without any of these, change is not going to happen, and that change we are after is shalom. I don’t know about you but this year I’m even more determined to enjoy my journey to restoration like never before.

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Truth of the matter is, the journey is going to happen whether we like it or not. We can make an eleven day journey last for eleven days or for forty years, the choice is entirely yours to decide. In Deuteronomy 1:2, Scripture tells us to travel from Mt. Horeb to the Promised Land was an eleven day  journey.

Eleven days!!!

But the Israelites never took the eleven day journey. Instead, they wandered around aimlessly, murmuring and complaining . . . for forty years!

These people never entered the Promised Land. And never got to taste the  flowing  milk and honey.

Have you sometimes asked yourself what would happen if you stopped wandering, complaining and deciding to take short cuts to your destination?

Could it be like the Israelites, we can are  turning our eleven day journey into a forty  year one!

How?

How do we turn a journey God gives eleven days to complete into a life-long one? Just the thought of that cripples me with frustration, Our need to know everything, and have everything done in microwave time is the biggest dream killer of today’s generation.

It’s no coincidence that you are reading this blog. And I believe there’s many unspoken  fallen princesses and princes on their journey to restoration as well with the same frustration.

The “mansion” we are traveling toward will not be a visit; it will be our home. So if we are indeed making our way home, don’t we owe it to ourselves to enjoy the journey.  You know, travelling on an empty stomach is a sure-fire way to park up sooner than intended. So that’s why I’m offering you bread to eat so you will not quit on your journey.

I’ve heard it said that when you become sick and tired of being sick and tired, you’ll change the course of your direction. Einstein so aptly put it. Insanity is doing the same thing, expecting a different result. So, this year if you are indeed serious about seeing change then I encourage you to make the decision to stay the course on the road and refuse to park up.

No, we are not “there” yet; but we are well on the way. We can be rest assured that our travelling buddy on the trip knows the way—He IS the Way! He has the map, He is the navigator, we can never get lost.

He is the way, the truth, and life.

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Listen, during this life’s journey everything is not going to be easy. We will experience wins and losses. But never lose hope in the journey, no matter how long it may take.
We may not be “there yet,” but we see the road signs; the destination is just ahead. The travelling buddy has already gone ahead of us. He knows the way and is guiding us during the day with a pillar of cloud, and he has provided light at night with a pillar of fire. He has made the way easier for us to travel by day or by night with joy and anticipation until the journey ends.

 

TIPS:

Mirages are lies, things always look good from a distance

You don’t need to get out of the car

Hitchhiking another person on their journey could take you on a different route

Stay on course, and trust the process

Say NO to short cuts

Hunger will be your biggest distraction

Question: What has been the most challenging journey you’ve experience so far in your life?