On every dark having a silver lining…

I saw a newspaper headline the other day that dubbed 2015 as “year of the #”. I think that headline was pretty accurate. The ability of people to hash tag events was a big game changer in social media trends this year. If I had to pick a hash tag it would be #silverlinings. I decided to look on the bright side of everything that has happened to date. So while unemployment may have been my biggest challenge, the bright side is I got to spend a lot of time with my family and share invaluable moments. I made new friends, reconnected with old friends, started going to the gym regularly and I even went on vacation with another group of friends.

http://jordan-austin.deviantart.com/art/Silver-Lining-281461718

I’m  not oblivious to the fact that it has been ages since my last blog post! Partly due to the creative juices not flowing and partly due to the way I handle things. I tend to withdraw if I feel I’m not in control and sadly my blog suffers the most. There were so many stories started but never finished and I just seemed unable to complete a full post. So much has happened since that last post. I finally got the balls to face my fears and quit a job that was draining me. It’s a remarkable feeling when one gets the courage to let go of situations that no longer bring joy. One of my greatest fears was unemployment and I faced that twice this year. I’ll share a little bit behind why I quit one of the jobs in a blog post later on. So after I left the other job, I got another one and left that one too for totally different reasons to the other one. But unemployment actually wasn’t as bad as I imagined. Granted there are certain things I’ve had to forgo because I have no constant stream of income but I am blessed with an amazing family who have supported me through everything so I cannot say I was in lack. Also the saving lessons my mother taught me from a young age came into play a lot during this year.

I had a disagreement with someone a few months ago but my unemployment status. I felt attacked and he made it sound like I was content in my current state. My response to him which at that time probably came across as very defensive also led me to have an aha moment.

I can either be depressed about unemployment and cry every single day and feel sorry for myself or I can accept that this is where I in this season and react accordingly. In those few minutes of having to justify myself I realised that how one waits during a setback is just as important as how one will react once the situation has changed.

I choose to be the best version of me – which is the best route to embrace hence my hash tag silverlining. Considering I’ve done the other route before and that just led me to be frustrated and sad and overweight, silver linings are the only option for me this time around.

Every challenge or setback also contains potential for a positive or negative outcome. By focusing on the positive, I feel more inner peace thus being able to accept that which I cannot change immediately.

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on beneath these tears…

Beneath these tears...

Beneath these tears…

Beneath these tears

Is a strong woman, a highly seasoned woman

A fervent woman, a comical woman

 

Beneath these tears

Is a goddess, an African Princess

A descendant of Nefertiti

 

Beneath these tears

I will no longer give you the power

Of turning my smiles into frowns

Or allowing tears to cascade down my face

Beneath these tears

I feel sorry for you

I am ashamed on your behalf

And I pity you

 

Beneath these tears

You will never know

The vivaciousness that I possess

Or the reason for that sparkle in my eye

Or the progression that made me, me

 

Beneath these tears

You will never get to meet the woman I described!

You will never get to know this child of the most high

 

But most importantly,

Beneath these tears,

I want you to know that I forgive you

And I wish you well! 

on a crucifixion type love…

I thought this would be the perfect way to end of November. Click here to view on YouTube…

My biggest prayer is to love her right

I want to…

Love her like Christ loved the church

Love her like her Father in Heaven loves Her

Love her like the Holy Spirit loves her soul

And love her like she was created to be loved

But sometimes….

Sometimes my flesh tries to intimidate me with that kind of love

It’s like my spirit cries out from the depths of this corrupted prison

With the voice of Abel screaming that

I have not yet loved her to the extent Christ loves the church

I want a crucifixion type love

Everytime I hug her I want my arms to be spread out on the cross

And I want to die to my childish ways

Everytime I look into her eyes

I want a crown of thorns to be placed upon my head and surrender my thought life to her honor

To be nails driven into my feet so that they will lead her with the authority of Moses

I want a crucifixion type love

I want my side to be pierced every time we laugh together

so that I’ll always remember that she is my rib

Everytime I sleep and dream of her

I want my back to be beaten with a catonine tails

so that I’ll always carry her burdens for her

Everytime I’m not with her

I want to stand before Pilate and stand true to my relationship with her

se,  I want those who have seen me to have seen her in ME when we are apart

I want a crucifixion type love

I want a love that will cause dead men to rise

When people gaze on us, I want them to know who is this Christ that we speak of?

And everytime she falls I want to take her in my arms like my cross and carry her up to Calvary

I want men to mock me for not wanting to be like them

For not wanting to squander my love on various women

But to have the passion to pour out my love onto one soul for all of eternity

I want a crucifixion type love

I want a love that was predestined before eternity

I want a love that was birthed in my mother’s womb

I want a love that is willing to give up this world for her

I want a love that is immaculate

I want a love that makes angel’s wish they were in our shoes

I want a love that will make me pray to God and say

Who am I that YOU are mindful of me to bless me with her

I want a crucifixion type love

I want a love that bleeds purity

I want a love that people will lie on us just to see us split apart

I want a love that will make me run away to a far village,

build a mansion for you with my bare hands

and send you love letters every day reminding you of me

letters that you can keep in a book and spend time reading them every day

I want a love that will make my spirit pray for you

I want a love that will make me walk on water in the middle of the most dangerous storm for you

I want a crucifixion type love

I want a love that my friends will betray me because of my affection for you

I want a love that after we’re gone,

that for centuries to come men will aim to follow in our legacy

Everytime I rise in the morning

I want it to be my cross being raised upright for you

To stand on the hill of my life and portray a beautiful sacrifice

I want to be placed in the tomb of your heart

The Tomb that your mother and father built

I want a love that will rise with all power over adversity

I want a love that people will flock to see if it is real

I want a crucifixion type love

I want a love that shows my yearning for you

I want a love that even when we argue,

I still have a burning passion & desire to be with you

I want a love that heals

The kind of love that covers the wounds that were dug deep by the knives of infidelity and insecurity

I want a love that makes God get up and dance around his throne every time he sets his eyes on us

I want a crucifixion type love

So with all of that said

Lord, give me the strength to love her like you love me

Like the way you didn’t consider being equal with the Father a thing to be grasped

But you came and gave up your throne for the filth of this world

And in love, you served

So, In the same way

Let me serve her unconditionally infinitely

Let me MAN UP

And quit wasting time playing games

and pursue her like you pursue your church

Because you have chosen me to be entrusted with her heart

So let me cherish it like a jeweler cherishes a diamond

Let me examine it and find out every minute detail about her worth

I want to love her

like Abraham loved Sarah

Like Isaac loved Rebecca

Like Jacob loved Rachel

Like Boaz loved Ruth

Like Solomon loved his Queen

I want a crucifixion type love

So into your hands I commit this relationship

Because I want to love her like you Love your church

I WANT a Crucifixion…type…love…

by Brent Rice

 

on my grandma…

My grandmother was 92 years old when she passed away. For as long as I can remember, she came to the city for about 3 to 4 months every year. She had loads of funny stories to tell. I was always laughing around her. When she was younger, she wanted to be in a band. She had categorised my sisters and I into the one who gets her the technological stuff, the one who buys her clothes and the one who brings home delicacies. She never asked for these things outright, she used grown up swag where she hinted and it was up to me and my sisters to take care of her needs. And we didn’t mind coz she was gran! She had the ability to bring people together. She managed to keep the families close knit. She was one of the last surviving people of her generation so everyone came to her. We used to take walks together and chat about everything and nothing.  When we watched TV  she made up her own story lines and her rendition of things was so different from the directors version. As she got older she thought that the people in the TV could see her and as we sat and watched TV, she would say look, look, his eyes are following me. These are the memories I have of my gran – full of of smiles, happy thoughts and laughter. I’m grateful I got to spend some meaningful time with her.

she was a very stylish lady!

Introducing Rupert Pupkin…

The King of Comedy is a 1983 film about Rupert Pupkin (played by Robert DeNiro). Rupert is a wanna be stand-up comedian who believes if he appears on the late-night television show of Jerry Langford then his glory will follow. Rebuffed by Langford, Rupert hatches a plan with his friend,  Masha to kidnap the TV host and ransom him for a shot at glory. I haven’t watched the movie but a good friend of mine (who has agreed to guest blog every once in a while) loves it to bits and has decided to use Rupert Pupkin as his stage name when he guest blogs for me.

Stayed tuned for his 1st post on Monday….

The neighbours

it started off as an empty stand...

It started off as an empty stand and a few months later there was a fully constructed house. It was finished in a very short space of time. It was finished too fast according to the other residents of Lottenville Street.

Lottenville is a fairly short street located on the edge of one neighbourhood and the beginning of another. It is scattered with potholes but that doesn’t affect the upkeep of the houses situated on the street. It is a street where everyone knows everyone. The newest family had moved onto the street about 5 years earlier so when the new house was built, everybody was intrigued about what the new neighbours would be like.

They moved in quietly. Well, they tried to. It was the last weekend of August on a hot Saturday. The typical Saturday stillness was shattered by the sound of large vans – moving trucks. A few Lottenville residents walked over to the new house and introduced themselves to the new family. The husband, Mr Mangombe, was very agreeable. He conversed with everyone there. His wife on the other hand, was different. She seemed anxious, nervous almost and it was coming across as up-tightness. She greeted her new neighbours and walked into the house and never came out again for the rest of the afternoon.

After that Saturday, one rarely saw the new neighbours.  The husband’s car would be spotted on some weekends but not all so we figured he must work out of town. Life continued as usual on Lottenville Street. Children went to school, parents went to work and gardeners gossiped over the fence.

so, have you see the new maid at number 11?

One Sunday many months later, I was taking a leisurely stroll in the neighbourhood. As I neared the Mangombe’s house I heard raised voices. I slowed down. I could make out a few phrases here and there.

“Imba yangu iyi………. ibva pano!”  *This is my house, get out!

Another voice, a lady’s shouted even louder. “Imba ndeyako asi……………………” *The house is yours but….

A man’s voice was also heard. “Aiwa, musa……………………..” *No, don’t….

“Iwe Johni, nya……………… yatangwa newe!” *John, ……. started by you!

The first voice, “Don’t speak to my husband like that!”

The shouting continued for a few more minutes then suddenly a window smashed. The front door to the house burst open and John ran out with a lady hot on his heels. “Martha, Martha, calm down please!” John yelled.

John ka!

She was brandishing a mugoti (wooden cooking spoon). The lady we all knew as John’s wife also followed. Now all 3 were standing outside.

“Nhai John, ndizvo zvaungandiita here (John, how can you do this to me)?” tears streamed down Martha’s face.

“I’m sorry Martha.”

“Ah, John, kutomkubira ruregerero zvako (John, you’re even apologising!)!”

“It’s over John!” said Martha and she walked away got into her car and drove off leaving nothing but a trail of dust in the air.

leaving nothing but a trail of dust....

It turns out John was married and the lady staying on our street was his mistress. His wife had found out and she had confronted them and I was lucky enough to witness it all and relay it to the rest of the street.

me, telling the rest of the street what went down!

The end.