This is an old post written at the beginning of 2017. Its relevance overrides any date. This might be your story too.
My mother stared at me in disbelief, failing utterly to conceal the look of concern on her face. After a moment or two she recovered. “so what exactly are you saying? O simolola go jolajola (the worst kind of reckless dating ever possible) kana oa chaise hela mo maratong (quitting on love relationships)??”
What I opted for was downright disobedience.
After a 0.7% drop of my 6th semester’s GPA, I understood why an uncle of mine was consistently discouraging us from “marato a a boitshepo” during our schooling period. Of course I knew very well that dividing one’s focus to multiple things, including wild passionate young love was disastrous; I’d seen young people with potential have their lives wrecked at a very tender stage of junior education. But like every human beings mentality, experience is the best teacher. What I saw from other young peoples’ lives scared me, but didn’t scare me enough to not want to taste what they tasted, feel what they felt.
My cousin, who was also part of the conversation then, said “I get you, Lwaone. I get you.” Slowly nodding her head. My mother still hoped for an explanation, and as I tilted my head in that way I kinda like doing, I repressed my conscience telling me I looked and sounded the exact same way when I was a defiant 15 year old, free and fighting the system. “I feel that the Wait has put me in so much pressure to get married and have my own family. Don’t get me wrong,these are good, honorable things. But sometimes I find myself in quite a frenzy; of idolizing marriage. Which itself is an abomination! I might forget the lord while at it, in that pursuit. I don’t want it to control my life anymore, I might just be called for singleness, who knows?” I did the head thing again, “so I quit the wait, because I don’t want it to get in the way of other things God may have for me,such as serving Him in my youth.” Smart answer. After the oohs and aahs I cleared my conscience. But I didn’t know I had, in so graciously quitting the Wait, I had opted for downright disobedience. Lord save me!
Fast forward to a short two-months later, I had been reckless enough to involve myself with randoms who were completely out of the Lord’s will. My soft head of locks didn’t know that there you can unanimously agree to get “harassed” and hassled by someone by agreeing to meet them in the first place. I didn’t know that by saying to a cool easy-going fella across campus that “I’ll be in by 7. Block A4-210,” with a smile on my face meant we will immediately proceed to those barely one-man college beds in an attempt to get it down. Neither did I know that visiting some male friends with my girls, and remarking at how nice they’ve got their beds made (I like clean and well-ventilated sleeping spaces) was actually a hint that I would want to sleep there tonight!
OK, let me cut the princess and her frills. The truth is, after a while I caught on. I now know that any sort of agreement can be made through the most subtle remarks. And some things are achieved through mere insinuation. That bandwagon of disobedience flew across three semesters and threw me in a pit of low self-esteem afterwards. I couldn’t possibly return to the wait. Lord, look at me! If you’ve watched P4CM Rhetoric by Janette Ikz & Ezekiel titled Ready or Not, baby that was me. One can’t possibly go anywhere right with a low self-image and skeletons in the closet that resurrect at every attempt at doing things right. The enemy sees these things, and gets very happy when children of the light aren’t in the light anymore. When they unsuccessfully try to navigate their own paths.
I quit the wait and had my heart broken. I have been sick physically and emotionally because of that one choice I made I out of my own “wisdom”. And perhaps lost some good things God had for me in the past years. I hadn’t even done a single service for the Lord. I chose to learn the hard way. Obedience is the best teacher, not experience.
So 2017, new year new me! Yay! Well, not exactly. Just new better resolutions and better decisions. A friend of mine kindly sent me a copy of Meagan Good’s and DeVon Franklin’s The Wait. Months ago, I openly proclaimed it was cheesy, having not read it, but deep down I knew I said that because I had failed dismally at something I had really priced before. And most painfully, I had failed the Lord. I wish every one, young men and women, knew how important the wait is, not only in the aspect of consummating those knock-off relationships we love but hate, but in every single thing. The clarity, the peace, the results. The blessings. Fundamental decisions in life need to be made after a period of waiting, where God has swept over and ordained. Waiting, really, even patiently for a pizza you ordered over forty-five minutes ago, is important. Imagine the heartbreaks and emotional wounds that could be avoided by just taking your time, breathing in and out, giving God the ultimate control. I’m that baby from the nineties in an oversized orange grandpa shirt and a floral scarf with a mess of kinky African hair, in a new three hundred and sixty-six days on my tab and a God that cares, with a fresh determination to wait, now more than ever.