Divinity's Epistle

“Treasure of my heart and of my soul… In my weakness You are merciful. Redeemer of my past and present wrongs, Holder of my future years to come…” Tears were all the expression I could give that day as I sat in my room, my guitar resting in my hands. That one language only Abba could fully understand was, surprisingly, the only one I could speak in that moment- tears. I had shed more tears in the last three months than I had in a very long time- tears of shame, of feeling overwhelmed, of helplessness. But this time, the tears seemed to speak a different language. _______________________________________________ Uche- my close friend and brother- had just walked me to my house, hugged me, and turned to go. But somehow this hug felt abnormal today. It seemed to awaken all the “good feeling” hormones in my body, and I suddenly realised: I was a woman. We had hugged countless times before, but this one felt different. What had changed? Probably my physiological cycle, I...

I remember that day vividly: Walking through that path with my hand tucked into His - my Elder. Yes, my Elder. The possessive pronoun wasn’t careless; it meant something deeper. It spoke of years of consistency, love, and the quiet comfort of knowing someone who always came back for me. He had visited me since I was a child, and though His visits weren’t daily, each one left marks in my spirit. This time, however, felt different. It felt heavier. The world around us was cloaked in darkness so thick it felt alive. Only the light radiating from Him kept me from stumbling. As we walked, I noticed a pillar of light far off - a destination, maybe, or a promise waiting to be fulfilled. Then, I saw her. A young woman walking along the path, bruises on her skin, a golden badge on her shoulder hiding an old scar that seemed to heal by secondary intention. She moved slowly, cautiously, the scar still part of her story. My Elder saw my questioning eyes and spoke gently:  “ She got that deep c...