Almost three months to the day since I first met S, these arrived at hers with a note that tried to up the ante. The facts are what they are: I really really like her, we get along very well and I’d like to be a lot more than just friends with her, potentially the future Mrs S. Her call now… #Waiting
Months ago - when it became apparent that my birthday this year would fall on a work day - I made a mental note to take the day off. The act of making that official - signing into the absence management software we use at work and requesting the day off - never happened, which was how I ended up stuck behind my desk at work on the day. That the only slot for a meeting I had been trying to set up for months opened up on the day, the Friday before, didn’t help either. ...
It feels much longer than 12 days since I was last in London, mixing it with the young, free and saved at the Hillsong Europe conference but I suppose life and adulting can do that to you, particularly when that sometimes indecipherable line between work and life is crossed. Shed loads of emails and the cumulative effect of multiple weekends away finally caught up with me both in my work and personal lives, leaving me wondering if it was all worth it after all. All told, the amount of time I have spent scouring YouTube for snippets of the songs I heard, and the satisfaction going over pictures from that weekend still brings, suggests that there is still some lingering benefit. ...
It was with a mixture perhaps of Joy - Zadie Smith might disagree - and most certainly relief that I read the final lines of Kelly Sundberg’s It Will Look Like a Sunset, turned the page and realised I had finally finished reading my copy of The Best American Essays for 2015. It - the niggle at the back of my mind constantly reminding me I was yet to complete any of the books I’d started this year - had begun to feel like a thing around my neck. The 13 book target for the year - measly as it were - is now about as achievable as skiing in Kaduna, I suspect. ...
Last year, I went to a different church for Father’s Day, keen to avoid the big song and dance that usually ensues on the day at my regular one. Being a very single thirty-six year old bloke — a few months shy of turning thirty-seven — does put celebrations of fatherhood in perspective, the realisation being that that phase of life is at least eighteen months away for me. I suppose rather than bemoan my fate, I can ask myself the difficult questions, trying to wrap my head around why I am still a single bloke. To be honest, the year of being thirty-five was the one in which I most seriously began to think and see myself as a father. Still though, a couple of liaisons down the road, the sense is very much one of getting to the party a tad late. ...
Image Source The conversation - when it happened - happened on a whim; as unplanned as could have been. The intent - to set up a face to face meeting later in the week - quickly snowballed into a full-on conversation about the direction the whole L thing was headed. As it turned out, it was headed nowhere. It, the culmination of months of chasing, was about as anti-climactic as could be, worsened perhaps by how sure I thought I was that this was it. A lot of things sucked about it - not least the fact that the reasons offered; the uncertainty around work and the pressure from family all felt like convenient cop-outs. That my interest, made known clearly and consistently over the past few months ultimately counted for nothing felt like a slap in my face. The alternative too felt inferior. True he was probably a lot more heeled than I was, but there was baggage which I didn’t have which - given the seriousness with which L had seemed to chase this - should have counted for a lot more than it. ...
From today’s John Piper Devo: Have you ever wondered what God is doing while you are looking in the wrong place for something you lost and needed very badly? He knows exactly where it is, and he is letting you look in the wrong place…. And your agonizing, unplanned detour is not a waste — not if you look to the Lord for his unexpected work, and do what you must do in his name (Colossians 3:17). The Lord works for those who wait for him (Isaiah 64:4). ...
Source – A year ago if you had asked me if I thought I was a patient person, my unequivocal answer - given without so much as a batted eyelid - would have been that I thought I was; somewhere between 9 and 9.5 on a scale of 1 to 10 if you had pressed me to quantify. The reality, grudgingly accepted after much soul searching a few weeks ago, is that I am not; a realisation that has left me second guessing the validity of all the other assumptions about myself I carry. The first seeds of doubt to assail my iron clad convictions were sown by an offhand comment by my friend M, the context being a decision she needed to make. As far as I was concerned, it was an open and shut case; she needed to put the poor sod she was stringing along - in my opinion - out of his misery. To her it was a lot more nuanced than that, for which I got the quip about being impatient (and unfeeling). ...
That my relationship with Nigeria is somewhere between strained and non-existent is something I have made no bones about time and time again. That sense of lostness rather than easing with time has only become stronger, the key events in my life over the last few years - Newcastle, the bookend to a horrendous year of work and the somewhat forced decision to not return to the bedlam and then H - all chipping away at what bonds are left, leaving them increasingly tenuous. ...
It feels like a trick of time, a sleight of hand drawn from the very top tier of a Houdini play book, but the facts – borne out by the calendar I have open in front of me, and the worn pages in the notebook I bought a couple of months ago - tell a different story; a record, as stark as it is of just how much time has passed in 2016 already. ...