Photo Credit: Shawn Ang
The piece you are about to read was written Dec 22, 2015. Voila! It is our two year anniversary today, my husband and I. Today marks it two years since we had our engagement marriage according to Yoruba tradition. That morning, two years ago, I write a piece, which I will like to share. Celebrate with us. It was originally titled: About a wedding on the week of Christmas :) I believe you understand why I added 'remember' to the title *wink*.
It is my engagement today. Also, known as my traditional wedding. I decided that I would write on the morning of this day so I could share my joys and anxieties with you. I thought that perhaps on this day the rhythm would be different. That my heartbeat would be faster than usual. Maybe it is. Maybe not. That perhaps I would wake up with pixie dust in my bed, and fireworks cracking up the skies of my daybreak.
All is normal. Same like any other day. Besides, it is only my wedding, not the second coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. LOL. So I write this morning to honour the final hours of my singleness and singlehood. A life that I cherished rather too much, I almost did not want to let it go. I write to farewell the last minutes of a life I pray never to miss. I write to surrender the liberty and the doggedness that fueled my distinctive free-spiritedness. I write to welcome the seemingly endless days ahead, where my thirst for a vivacious life will forever be complemented by the life and energy of another.
I used to fly the flag of independence so high, I ran the campaign like my life depended on it. Now, I am a true believer in God’s original plan, which says, two are better than one for together they have a good reward for their labour. Now even my thoughts will soar accompanied by the thoughts of another. Telepathy best describes the manner of our communication. Our union is a long winding road. One I would thoroughly enjoy as I’ve been wired to constantly anticipate with joy, what lies around the bend.
A life of adventure, where my long desired and fostered liberty would be shared with my beloved. Savored and appreciated. I used to think I would never meet a match for my unconventionality or that my quirkiness would never know a perfect blend. But herein lies the depths of my joy and gratitude. I call him Mozart. The one that strings the cords of my being ever so tenderly.
He writes symphonies with everything that I am, even my laughter ismelodyto his ears. Why shall I not say, ‘Yes, I do?’ It would be the best decision I will ever make.
Now I cease from running breathlessly as one beating the air. Now I run with precision. Coached by the best. Tutored by a master. Like a little girl guided by her father. Like a young bride led by her groom. Like a maiden carried by her lover. I am
And how do I feel? Blessed. Blessed that my thirst for adventure has found a perfect match. That my life will now blossom at the hands of a loving, skilful gardener, who before time began was wired to decipher the nuances of all my shades and meanings. Like a pallet of colours lying idle, piled up, rainbow-hued; my beloved is the artist with the brush of direction and imagination. Like a ship on course, he is the captain navigating the high seas, tempering the night storms and guiding me towards a deep and fulfilling destiny in God my father, through Jesus Christ.
.champion and conqueror, bliss, adventureSo what do I feel on this glorious breaking of dawn? Gratitude. Gratitude overwhelms me as I embrace the life I have always dreamed. My soul sings with joy and with delight for my Lord and my lord, for my King and prince, my God and my man. The two parts of the triangle that have now become my life, and my world. Navigating my entire existence on a course that could only be best described as blessedamong women.
I can go on and on. Perhaps I would. I should write a book in fact. I will call it ‘A wedding on the week of Christmas: about the lover and her lord’. There are so many titles to choose but of course, that is a title for another day. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I relished writing it. To all the single ladies who bade farewell to singlehood in the season of this December - may God bless your union.
Song of Solomon 4:16
Awake oh north wind, come thou south. Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereofmyflow out. Let my beloved come into his garden. Let him eat of his choice fruits. — from memory
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