My name is Alethea . . . just kidding, it’s Tosin.
Okay . . . Alethea? Hold on. I’ll tell you all about that name and why it’s the name of my blog somewhere along the lines of this maiden post.
My blog??? I can’t even believe I wrote that. I actually now have a blog. I remember many years ago when on a Facebook post I asked if I should start a blog. At that time blogs weren’t a popular fixture on our screens, and at that point I thought it wasn’t for me, no matter how many people said I should start one. You see, I love to write a lot (another story for another day), but in this social media age where people get the opportunity to access what you write and actually read it, (I’m about to confess my sin) I was consumed by something very familiar to a lot of us who kind of write: THE FEAR OF THE LACK OF READERS . . . or to the layman, the lack of ‘comments and likes’. So I told myself that to save myself from rejection, I would rather not put myself out there to be rejected in the first place.
For a long time, I really haven’t been myself. The pressures of life probably gave me a blow I didn’t see coming. And I took it like a sore loser; I fell face down, flat like a pancake and drooled all over myself. I complained a lot about what I wasn’t doing and how I wasn’t who I wanted to be at this point. I magnified my weakness, elevated my shortcomings and threw a lot of pity parties. In the midst of all the drama, there were times I would get on a high and feel like I could fly over every mountain, and just when I would take the first leap, I’ll come crashing down again. The cycle never ended. UNTIL NOW!
For those who don’t know me, I’m a bit of a ‘Daddy’s girl’ . . . or maybe a whole lot. Being an ‘only girl’, I loved my dad to bits. He was the quiet one. The ‘somewhat’ gentle one (mummy, you know you are gentle at heart). The patient one too. When I lost him to a car accident, my world shook. To the foundation. It shook. And Fell. But in all the rubble, I met someone else who I had always known from afar. This One came in to my life and began to rebuild my shattered pieces and help me make sense of who I actually was. The confused misguided teenager finally had someone to hold her hand and walk her through the maze of life. Eventually, I became a ‘Daddy’s girl’ once more. I loved Daddy with all my heart and gave Him my everything.
UNTIL. THE. BLOW. FROM. HEAVYWEIGHT. CHAMPION. LIFE.
That blow hurt me more than I realised it did. That blow sent me flying till I gained a steady momentum and began to float. And float I did. Away from Daddy.
But there is a voice that calms rough seas. There is a voice that drives all fears away. There is a voice that raises the dead, but until now, I had not allowed myself to hear that voice. UNTIL NOW. I sat at the last row at church, where I always sit. The worship was on and I sat on my seat, blank, starring into the audience watching me which was no one at all. I sat there wondering if anyone could actually hear me screaming at the top of my voice. Screaming for help. Then I heard the voice:
“Faithful one, so unchanging
Ageless one, you’re my rock of peace
Lord of all I depend on you
I call out to you, again and again
I call out to you, again and again”
“You are my rock in times of trouble
You lift me up when I fall down
All through the storm
Your love is, the anchor
My hope is in You alone” ¹
To the ears of every other person around, it was the voice of Pastor Chris singing a song they weren’t familiar with, so the hall was a bit silent as he sang to his heart’s content. But there was another voice. Calling my name. Drawing my attention. Saying to me:
“Daughter, I’m still here. I never left you. I will never leave you.”
And I heard it. And I listened. And I screamed. AND SCREAMED!
You see, I knew the song. My dad used to play the cassette in his car and at home when I was young, and I had recently stalked the writer of the song to send me a copy since I couldn’t find it anywhere.
What a way to get my attention. So I screamed the words. I sang it out and meant every bit of it. I knew Daddy was listening. He finally got my attention.
The sermon that came afterwards was from heaven to me. Waking me up. Setting me free. You see, I’ve woken up many times from my fearful floating crash of a slumber, but you know how you wake up just to hit the snooze button, that’s what I always did. And always went back to sleep.
This time, I’m up and ready to rumble. Like Lazarus (if you are familiar with that Bible story), my dead ears heard the voice of the Master, I’m out of my tomb and unwrapped from my grave clothes.
I believe my life is made for more than I’ve used it for so far, and I’m done complaining that I’m not doing anything with my life. So I’ve dumped my fear of rejection and I’ve brought myself out here. I’ve taken another leap over that mountain; I see the peak, it’s right behind me. I’m tethered to Daddy and I no longer float.
So hello again. My name is Tosin. Daughter to Daddy, wife to Gagzi, mother to Drama Queen and Bumble Bee . . . friend to the TRUTH.
Welcome to my RESURRECTION!
P.S.: Alethea is the name of my latest niece. I waited for her and she finally came to put a smile on my face. Alethea means TRUTH. So here’s to Alethea, who’s arrival was just in time for my resurrection.
¹Faithful One by Brian Doerksen
²Image: Samus Floating in Space by Diony69