An Ode to MaLange (My Mother)

My mother is the first person I met. She held me against her chest after hours of painful labour. I was confused by all the noise and the latex covered hands that poked and prodded at me, but her touch must have felt familiar in the midst of the chaos. She taught me that the burning in my belly was hunger and she knew exactly how to ease and nourish the yearning.

My mother taught me intimacy as she held me to her breast and gazed lovingly into my eyes. I must have reached up my hand because I knew even then that she adored me and I wanted to touch the love that seemed to emmerse me.

My mother taught me how to be brave. How could I not be when she stood at the other end of the room arms stretched out and joy in her eyes as she waited for me to take my first steps?

Mom taught me to be responsible. She sent me back to school to find my lost school jersey once. It was a while before I lost my belongings after that!

My mother gently cleaned my skinned knees even though she told me a thousand times not to run around without my shoes on.

My mother taught me about Jesus. She nudged me in His direction every single Sunday, evening devotions were a non-negotiable and conversations with Him were a must.

My mom told me that no matter what I decided to be when I grew up, she would support and encourage me. She cried rivers of tears for me as she brought my life before Jesus... Come to think of it, every day to this day, she brings me to the feet of Jesus in prayer.

My mom is my biggest fan. She cries when I cry, laughs when I laugh and forever invades my space so that I never forget how deeply I am loved by her.

I thank you, Lord Jesus for the beautiful women that You helped to bring us into the world. I thank you that you compel them to stay on their knees for us and for the unexplainable, unconditional and immovable love they have for us. Happy Mother's Day.

Morning Has Broken

Every morning without fail I wake up in the early hours. My mind takes a look at its surroundings; it dawns on me. I'm yearning and my thirst has not been satisfied.

I fumble around for the tv remote. I know sleep will not return until I have to get up and face the day. If I'm honest with myself, I chose to be here. I chose a life where I measure myself with the back of a teaspoon. I didn't mean to. I wish we could see further down the road before we make a decision. I'd like to think we would choose differently if we foresaw what lay ahead. I think I would not have chosen you. I would've run away. I can't say being here was worth it, I mean, what have I achieved and how have I grown? I'm Benjamin Buttoning. I don't feel. I keep 2 arms lengths away;  from everyone.

But you're here too. Was the road you chose worth it? Do you look at where you are and desperately laqaza for an exit? Why did you stay here as long as you have? Did you imagine you would walk with me as long as you have? Did you plan to reduce me to this? Would you have chosen differently if you knew I would become this? Why did you even come? Nevermind, I know why you came.

I miss feeling, though. I want to feel again. I want to be free of you but I fear that even if I break away, I will look longingly over my shoulder and I will come back. Do you look over yours at me? Do you wish you were here and not there?

I long for the day when I can sleep all night and spend my whole day with no thought of you, but you linger everywhere; not just the corners of my mind but the nooks of my heart too. I didn't choose you. I didn't decide to put you there, but you drifted in subtly. You have made your home here. You are the furniture in the room. You are solid. I should redecorate my heart but I love the furniture... Stay because I want you to. Stay because you want to. Stay for both of us. Stay...