I'd meant to blog early this week.
Infact, I've planned a post everyday this entire week: sat at my desk at work, all these interesting stories come at me begging to be shared on here, only, I find I am sometimes unable to make notes of these different stories assailing my mind and thoughts for one or two reasons.
I'd normally have a jotter right beside me while at work and I'd write down points as they came to me, points I intended to expand into proper stories when I got home.
When I can't make notes though, it's normally because of two reasons:
1) My jotter is nowhere within reach
2) I have so much to achieve on the said day, target-wise, that even taking out a minute to jot something down would seem like taking vital time from my overall productivity.
What then happens when I'm unable to make notes at work is that the 30 or sometimes 45 minutes walk back home (depending on how I'm pacing myself ) is fraught with thoughts racing through my mind by the millisecond- it's literally whizzing through me, I even sometimes find myself finishing the ends of sentences or forming the best way to couch them, I find myself putting into words ( alot of times aloud to myself) exactly what I am trying to express and whole stories are literally mapped out and written on my walk back home.
Then I get home to my giddy and excited son who doesn't let me out of his sight: we go on into the kitchen to prep dinner- his and mine and then we Skype with daddy or speak to a relative, play for a bit, take a bath and begin to wind down for the evening.
Then he goes to sleep and I'm sat in bed with my laptop, staring hard at the blank post I've opened up to write in.
I might stare at this page for 5- 10 minutes before I close it in resignation, the pool of creativity properly dried up.
Then I'd resolve tomorrow would be different. and the cycle repeats itself.
So this has been how my week has been. And some.
I was sat here staring at my lappie when my phone rang and it was a sister from church.
This sister is an igbo one so we normally chat in igbo and so began our discussion- she had called to give me some feedback about another possible nanny for my son who was cheaper ( as I'm always on the lookout for a better deal. Childcare cost an arm and a leg here... ).
Somehow in our gist, sister began to "thank God for me and how simple I am", and how that she had not thought I'd be such a simple person but that the more she got to know me, the more she could see that "umu ihe ndi mmadu na enyere onwe ha nsogbu anaghi amasi gi, okachakwa ihe n'acha umu nwanyi isi"- meaning, "the silly things people disturb themselves over do not interest you especially the unimportant things some women disturb themselves about".
I was still trying to understand what she meant and in the light she meant it when she proceeded to tell me how God had delivered her from the evil spirit of being overly fashion concious.
She said that prior to that, all her clothes had strictly been "ready made" and her family members knew her as someone who took her fashion seriously and that she could spend money on perfumes eh, that none of her perfumes were less than N1,500 and that she always had like three different ones at a time to prevent anyone from knowing exactly which particular one she was wearing......
At this point in the conversation, I was very uncomfortable and argued on the side that it wasn't bad to like fashion sha, at the end of the day, if it made one happy.... I was cut short by the alarm in her voice as she insisted that THAT was an evil spirit that made people overly conscious of fashion.
In my mind, I was just thinking, "Woman, why involve me in this kind of your reggae biko?" whilst looking at my dresser where countless bottles of perfumes sat. #sigh
I just hurriedly ended the call. Every level with their own reggae.
Every aboki with their own kettle.
She probably thinks this because I do dress down so as to fit in at church- don't get me wrong o, I do not disguise myself, I just dress the way that others dress- there is a difference.
I fell in love with Deeper Life sometime in 2012- when I'd started reading their Christian Women's mirror but I never thought I could summon up the liver to actually attend the church 'cos I thought them a bit extremist in their views of what and how Christians should be, act and appear.
Then, at some point last year when I was struggling with my faith, God actually led them to me- about this I had no doubt- and I felt like a thirsty horse that was brought to a flowing stream- I couldn't stop drinking.
The best bit was that I also realised that you were not under a "mandate" to dress down- it all had to do with your conviction and MY conviction is to dress well (everyday) and modestly and that was it.
MY CONVICTION is that I do not believe that being a "Christian" means that I need to wear loose clothes everywhere and be dressed drably simply because I wanted to look "holy", my conviction is that because my body is the temple of God, I need to keep it presentable in the most modest and wholesome of ways.
That did not mean that I would attend service on a Sunday or mid week service and stand out like a sore thumb because I want to apply "my conviction"- give to Ceaser what (you can try to ) is Ceaser's - since I love the preaching in the church, what would it cost me to not make up, to cover my hair and to have on a little pair of dot earrings to go and fellowship with my brethren? Nothing.
I just did not expect this kinda talk about evil spirits fuelling the passion for fashion from one of us....
It is well.
Until another time,
Love Always,
Judgejudyjudy.
Lols at her perfume not costing less than #1500. So the passion for fashion is an evil spirit? OK oh.
ReplyDeleteI don't think there is anything wrong with dressing nicely... a person could go overboard if they let clothing control everything, however; that is the same thing about many things.
ReplyDeleteI want to write too, I have lots of things, I just have a great deal going on in my life... I'm hoping by no later than tomorrow ♡♡♡