BOND 275

Dear Oyin,

I’m writing this for myself but also for those like me – like you, sometimes. Like all of us who – like us – are plagued with the misery of crying out so beautifully. Whose bleeding hearts are art. People applaud at our pain and at how well crafted our minds have been able to present the Dynamism of hurt. How flashy it must be to live our lives. How collected it seems to smile all the way. How energy-driven (it is) to climb so high, be seen at the pinnacle and want to come down – but cannot afford to. It must be great to have others look up to you – and me, sometimes – and not have the luxury to fail.

First of all, failure is a luxury. Strength is a plague. Faith looks foolish and in the end, we are all fools depending on what angle we are viewed from.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. You are right. I have a Messiah’s Complex: always wanting to save and help and keep and hold and guard and guide others but not me. For me, others but me need healing; others but me need saving; others but me should love; others but me should leave yet others but me do leave and that’s it…that’s the little crack the hurting comes from. The pain of being rejected. The sickness of always wanting to be warned. The desire to be omni-present; then omnipotent: saving all lives at the time.

Is it a curse? You tell me! Between being a joyful heart and believing in the joy of the heart.

You and I are like this mind. Our sins are secret, if not sin would gain the upper-hand. Our pains are secret, if not pain would gain the upper-hand. Our woes are secret, if not woes would gain the upper-hand. We are and we must appear perfect. We must be mannequins and in our fashion, some would address life. In our passion, they would redress from strife; some would impress upon life a standard and we would never know them only that they would stand from afar and disect why we do what we do the way we do them. Some may fail to and others may fail, too, as they digress off the right path. Oyin, but it’s not wrong, right?

If you haven’t seen my thoughts as clearly as they should come, I’m saying this: for being Christian and for thriving to live like and for JESUS, there would be a call for others to mimic us.

Yes, many are called to be mimicked, few are chosen to be mimic-worthy.
So this is it. I’m one of such people who is conscious of the need to be mimicked and well-spent in trying to help others without paying attention to myself for the better parts of life.

The minister should not just minister to others but to themselves; they should be ministered to, too. GOD’SBONDMAN should not just model but also be modeled. There is always a time to be reborn, born-again to stand over ill or hill or heel. It all depends on what lies in view, in what stains the pew, in what says “the few” who have been sent by GOD to you.

It was a blessing speaking and walking with you. For rock climbing, too, through the steep iron casts between the cave to the peak.

Reborn, GOD’sBondMan

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