meaningful ramblings

Over the past few weeks, or months even, I have been reminded of how much God loves me. I have also been reminded of how unfaithful I am. Firstly, by default. After all I'm human, but then secondly in particular, as just me, Abimbola. My own personal brand of unfaithfulness. To myself, and to God. I realized that I have wronged myself in so many ways, so many injustices done by me, against me. I have cheated myself and in doing so, cheated God. Far be it from me to tell you the many ways I have sold myself short, accepting less for myself, believing that it was enough. But I have, and now I have decided to change. I don't know if any of you have read Lauren W's (can't remember the spelling) "Chasing Harry Winston". If you have or not, there's a part in the book where someone got engaged and told her friends that she thought the ring was too big. Then one of her friends replied that "if you think it's too big then you don't deserve it"...

I came to London looking for answers. Answers to still the turbulence in my mind and to be a balm for y aching heart. I came, searching for meaning, for purpose. I came for clarity...in the hopes that the frigid winter air may drive the cobwebs away. Did I come looking for love? Definitely. I came hoping to fall in love with life and nature and beauty. That was the pot I wanted at the end of my rainbow. So I emptied my bank account, paid a ridiculous amount of money for a winter ticket and got on a plane to London. If you've been following this blog then you must know that I was in a really bad place during the last quarter of 2010. And in the midst of all that, i lost hope and my faith in love. I lost my way. But tonight I found it. That which I travelled so far for. Clarity. It was right there in the arms of the Father who never once let go. The healing I craved. And as tears fell from my eyes, I felt my heart fall into place. Not the old tattered and torn one, a new one. And...

I'm sat here, staring out of the double windows of the audit room and out onto the streets of VI, deep in thought. I've just read T.Notes  's post on hope and it left me thinking about how life would suck big time if one did not or could not hope.... Where would I be if i could not hope that tomorrow will be better than today? I see the homeless roaming the streets at night. Just opposite the office is a woman asleep on a bench. She's wrapped herself up tightly, no doubt to protect herself from mosquitoes. But what about rain? what if it rains? but i know that she has gone to sleep hoping that rain will not come tonight; for if it did, where would she sleep? there'll be no escaping it... Where would we be if we could not hope that suffering and pain would come to an end? There's so much sadness in this world...if only we coul see...In the heart of a seemingly happy person lies a sadness that only he knows..and a hope that one day the sadness will end. And th...

I cant exactly concentrate on anything else so I might as well. This post began in my mind just after Da Grin died. See, I didnt really pay attention to his music. Well to anything apart from Kondo which I love. Thing is my grasp of yoruba is rubbish and I couldnt understand why someone would decide to rap in the language. Like our kids another reason to have poor diction. Then he died and I felt his abscence. Quite keenly infact.But not as much as I do now. You see, the day after his death, I went out and bought his album. Just so that I could have Kondo for keeps. Then I fell in love with the entire album. The sincerity in the first two songs. Everything. I still dont understand all of what he's saying, but I got it. And I realised I didnt give him a fair chance. I should have listened first. See the thing about life is that its seems really long. Everyday we stare at the clocks at our workplaces, waiting for ^pm (for those that close at 6), or for some like us, till whenever t...

My cousin is getting married this weekend and I am amazed at her courage. Her willingness to "forsake all others" and all those other marraige vows. I asked her how she can be so trusting. She says it is part faith, part love. Nothing scares me more than that act of surrender. The submission to fate and the irrevocable searing of one's life with that of another. The re-alignment of one's dreams. The helplessness. The surrender that terrifies is not that of loving someone. It is the one of being loved. To quote Carson Mccullers, "Therefore the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself. It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover cr...