𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘃𝘂𝗹𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁!
I was not always like this, all settled, gathered and composed. I've had some rough emotional rides. I think we've all had it at some point in our lives, or we're probably going through one at the moment.
I had to stop my reading to tell you this.
𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘... 💚💚💚
Here's an unedited excerpt from my memoir, written in the early morning of a day in June, 2020. The time stamp was when I hit the last dot. I stayed up all night thinking and compressing my thoughts into those lines.
Those were my rough days. I share this with you to let you know 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘... 💚
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
𝗧𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗!
Dear God,
It's me again. I'm writing this time because I don't know who I can trust with these recent feelings. I mean, I have my brothers around me, and Bethel and her crew, and they're wonderful people. But you see, I'm having a soul fight this moment and it's clogging up my outlet. I don't want my struggles to be a source of imbalance to them, as much as I want to share it with them. Whatever that means. I'm just writing and pouring contents out.
I'll try describing this feeling. It's like there's a heavy weight in my chest, like water in a jug or a closed container is being tossed around, shaken vigorously, the content seeming to want to explode but the bottle is holding all of that violence in.
It's like a balloon filled with so much air, it's reached its elastic limit, but there's no end in sight to the air that surges in. Seeming to burst but not giving in.
Writing this makes me feel a little relieved, but the overall feeling is still there. Worse is, I don't know what to make of this. I don't know how to categorise this or place these thoughts.
Just when I think I have things in control, this kind of night creeps up my back and spooks me.
I'm awake and currently reading Peter Enns' "The Sin of Certainty", and he just seems to be that folk that perfectly gets where I am at the moment, or should I say, perfectly describes it. Well, over 200 pages of personal exploration seems enough space to really do some soul journey on.
Taking a deep sigh, I just listen and hear the soft sound of the gentle breathing of Joe beside me. It reminds me of the peaceful nights of babies. There's no light so I can't see his face. I can hardly see his outline in the darkness, but his breathing gives me a confidence that he's near.
It's hard to admit, but God, I wish to know you're near. It looks like what those preachers call amateurish faith, but at this point, I want to be an amateur, a baby, seeing or hearing something familiar and just knowing it's you by my side. Or is this the adult in me trying to make sense of things?
I feel down and out. I feel tired, like I'm trying and searching and ... I want to be a child again. Was this the point you were making when you talked to us through Jesus? To just be like a child? And trust?
I've turned left and right and done a whole lot of pushing. I'm innately stressed, but I chuck up like everything's alright and I've got things in control. But I haven't.
I just want to lay back, and snooze, like Jesus in that stormy ocean, and Peter in that jail. I so want an Anchorage right now, it brings tears to me.
These are the nights I get to bare myself to you and just be me for me. These are the nights I want to listen to those lyrics on replay (Jesus take the wheels, take it from my hands, cos I can't do this on my own).
These are the nights that bring to fore my overall frailty. These are the nights I think of those around me, and how hard they're fighting their own battles with no seeming comfort in sight.
These are the nights I remember how insensitive and judgemental I had been to those who have passed my way, fighting their battles their own way. I really wish I could go back in time to tell you, "you're not alone". I did and said and wrote what I thought was best at the time, but as I grow daily, I learn that we're human after all and pain is part of the mix.
I feel their pain now, so much as I feel mine.
These are the nights I remember I'm human. These are the nights I'm reminded to be easy on others. These are the nights I'm reminded of love and trust.
I honestly don't see a straight out map out of this hole, but I want to trust you're here. Somewhere. Probably. Watching me ride the waves and waiting to jump in if I'm about to drown out. It's some scary shit to say, like why allow me go under in the first place? But then, I don't know. I'm under and flapping, and my flailing hands are tired and I want to rest.
June 10, 2020
4:58am
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you ever need someone to talk to, someone who would just listen to you as you pour out your heart and empty it of its heavy weights,
One who would offer a supportive shoulder to walk you through your trying phase and an arm of empathy and understanding about the circumstances surrounding you,
Do send me a message. Let's walk this journey together. Experience has taught me that two are better than one. We'll both swim to the shore. We'll touch sand again 💚💚
I'm now a Professional Counsellor who's better equipped to walk through your journey with you, whatever you journey might be.
Remember this. 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘. It was all I wanted to hear back then. It's my message to you right this moment.
𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘... 💚💚 I wish I could give you the hug I so badly craved then. Just have it in mind that my heart's with you, whatever it is you're passing through.
Do share this post to help lighten the load of a fellow traveller too.
𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂! 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗼!
💚💚
Emmanuel Onowaro
