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Oh Snap! I have a TEENAGER in my house!

house-2When you are alone, in privacy, during the most intense period of your day, are you always calm? composed or just tolerant?

When you are in the shower or sitting on the comfort of your toilet bowl at home, does your mind begin to play a crossword reality check game with you? Do you drift or wonder into oblivion? Or you focus on some relaxing memories as you try to ignore images and flashes of the next chapter of your life?

Well…

I-do-a-lot! In fact, that is one craving routine for me! My bathroom is my go-to solitary hide-out!

As a kid, anytime I need to escape the piercing words or the back-hand slaps from my mother after I have really crossed the lines, I would go hide inside the toilet with a novel, preferably Penny Jordan’s M & B tucked inside my Brighter Grammar book, a pack of bazooka bubblegum, can of waterboy spray, drummer-boy air-freshener;  and a short prayer hoping that by the time I come out much later, my mom and her stop-over-to-visit-anytime siblings are not waiting for me in the dining room to dissect and analyze my “queer and mysterious apocalyptic ways”

house-10Hmmm, Aunty Virgie, ‘I told you she’s weird! I bet she talks to herself and her unseen pals, ‘We need to take her for charismatic deliverance! They would whisper among themselves as I sneak by and pretend not to understand their language and creep back into my room.

And today, It’s no secret in my household that, my bathroom is still my ‘thinking and hiding zone’ especially when I bolt the door behind me to keep my prying kids out! Phew!

“Open the door mommy, I need to tell you or show you something!

‘I-am-busy-now! I usually scream back as I return to my indulgence with a deep sigh of relief.

Ah! The serene sound and soothing effect of the running hot water on my skin, creating a tornado of misty steam, the aromatic lemon grass scented candle dropping its wax in unison to the beats of the water splashing….such bliss!

house-11So, my oldest daughter just became a teenager, a dainty one and not as dramatic or crazy or a firecracker as I was at her age!  #ThankGodForThat

And the more we grow together under the same roof, the more I become weak in the knees seeing how much she reminds me of me then in so many ways!

I stumbled upon her journal and there goes pages and pages of pure undocumented short stories she had written over the years, and a recent write up about her spiritual encounter at “Breathe girls only retreat” organized by  About One teenager ministry @ #BrightmoorChristianChurch and her joy at spending time alone too…in the BATHROOM!

My heart did a backflip two-miles away from my body until it dawned on me she-shares my-passion-for-writing! and for all I care, could be writing the story of my life!

And I thought about my own life … my own past … my own relationship with my mother!

And yet … there are many times when my life does not exude that joy, maybe when I was a teenager…house-12

Why?

Maybe I have forgotten what it was like to witness the wonder of His presence in my life. Those times when my life was too crowded for God, and I just needed to breathe again…

Today, whether you have a teenager under your roof, or you know a teenager who looks up to you as their roof, how much do you really know them? How are you fueling their lives for tomorrow’s story they intend to write about?

Isn’t it is so easy to relegate our spirituality to religious activity? When all they really want is to learn the path to follow? When we allow them to do more or all of the talking, while we wait on them?

house-6Oh Yes!!  There is a teenager in my house! and just like God longs for us to forever run into His arms, sharing every hurt and rejoicing in every victory, that’s exactly how every teenager yearns to wrap their emotional-arms around us, completing the peace we so desperately need!

Won’t you Join in today? and live a life that celebrates the amazing truth that opens the doors to a teenage-heart!

Happy 13th Birthday, Sophia!

Yours in HOPE as I share Jonny Diaz’s Breathe.

Yinka.

 

 

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Friday night conversation with Yinka – collection of short stories (Terms of Endearment – Part Two)

create stirm( Continued From JULY 19th.)

Ovie is not always around anyway… ‘Who is Ovie? Omolara snapped back in disgust. Wondering what was going on now. She needed her cousins to explain it all to her.

Ovie is the typical know-it all girlfriend we are aware of, but not interested in hanging out with. Tall, dark skinned and skinny with puffy show-off bosom that dances along with her excitement during her showcase of telling tales of how her new fiancée Afam had begged her to marry him.

On campus, rumors has it that she’d escorted a friend to Calabar for a traditional wedding and ended up seducing the groom’s older brother, who was also in the process of planning his own wedding far away in Canada to a lady he’s been dating forever – until he came home for his brother’s wedding. He met Ovie dancing away to the beats of the local drummers who had come to usher in the bride, Ovie was the center of attraction, it was like she’d secretly paid the drummers to flow with the rhythm of her hips, the local beads around her neck and waist also in acknowledgment of the beats of the drum, all rising and falling in unison with Ovie’s captivating wide laughter and exaggerated passion. Afam got entangled in Ovie’s web on the dance floor. A web of confusion and catastrophe started on that dance floor!

Sharing a room with Ovie wasn’t a very good idea, her cousins knew that too, but then, she couldn’t stay off campus alone by herself in a fancy apartment she’d requested for. Her last letter to Ayibari had indicated “a spacious 2-bedroom apartment with 2 baths and a kitchenette” If only she knew where she was coming to.

So, who in the world is Ovie? And why do I have to stay in this room with her? Ayibari quickly pulled out an extra thin mattress from underneath the main mattress and suggested they quickly return to town before it gets too dark. Trying to avoid any more questions from Omolara, Ayibari and Ifiemi quickly pulled her out of the room and unto the main porch of the main building.

Sharing a room with Ovie is going to be a big challenge for everyone, especially Omolara. But knowing deep in her heart the reason for her escape, Omolara might have to deal with it. She will manage for a while and move on later. Ovie is always set in her ways. You pass by her while she’s standing outside the lecture hall, boastfully showing off her gold-plated engagement ring, and she could easily detect your body deodorant, tell you the name of a fragrance you’re wearing and if allowed tell you it’s the fake product you have on! And of course give suggestions on where to get the “real one”. There’s always a commotion ready to explode when Ovie is around. She has a particular group of girls who usually hang around her day and night, thrilled and captivated by her “performance” – a rare star! They’d called her once – but Ayibari claimed the girls were just hungry for recognition, intimidated by her fake life and needed to feed from her crumbs, her fake wanna-be crumbs and her true identity is only known by Osa her younger brother she’d banned from ever coming to visit her on campus.

As life would have it, Osa has encountered another gambling problem again, was on his way to meet his “famous big Sis” to fix it or else…

To Be Continued…

Written by Yinka.

 

 

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Collection of short stories – Chapter One

all of me

LOVE FOR SALE

Collection of short stories by #moving forward with Yinka

I quickened my pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud were forming, blotting out the old-gold color of the sun. I got the first splatter of rain when I was halfway across the meadow. I took shelter under an old oak, hoping that I could see out the shower.

Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the grass like a gardener’s hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak and the drops were drumming against the canopy.

So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded me of the rotor blades on a helicopter. Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. The sun came out again, casting slanted beams of light across the meadow. Steam rose slowly from the grass. It rose up eerily and drifted mist-like towards the molten-gold sun. The image was so vivid that it stayed with me all the way home.

I just can’t stop thinking about her! The lingering scent of stale orange peel on her silk scarf, the powerful commanding way the breeze sends it flying across the field as free as life could offer. This fragile yet alluring body running around happily under the …

To be continued!

Written by: ‘Yinka for Women Weave The World.

www.yinkalawrence.com

 

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