His Grace, A Crown

This evening, a dear friend and I were talking and somehow, we get to where she begins to share with me how she has very low self esteem and how everyone around her tries to trample on her and to reinforce in anyway they can, her ill feelings about herself. 

Whatever she did for them, never seemed to be enough; they always expected more, even when they themselves gave little or nothing.

What I was not able to decipher, was whether these people knew what they were doing to her, or not.

Growing up, she wasn't a favourite of her parents, neither was she blessed with good looks nor wonderful grades.

She got bullied and abused and when she tried to say, she was shut down; never counselled so this continued for a very long time in her growing up years.

Yet any opportunity she got, she served the hurting; worked shifts at orphanages, half way homes, etc, just because she found that serving them, helped her own healing. 

In time though, she ended up doing pretty well for herself, much better than anyone expected. She met an married a wealthy man who loved and appreciated the ground she walked on and things turned around for her, self esteem wise.

She found her voice and used it to serve causes she believed in.

Next thing you knew, people were asking her,

"Who the hell do you think you are"??!

Forgetting or not even knowing at all, what dues this lady had paid that no one knew about.

And those who knew, cared less.

Her story got me thinking about my own journey thus far with that question,

"Who do you think you are"??

I've been asked that a few times and each time I wonder why??

Once at school, the University of Pirthatcourt, Nigeria, where everyone had to learn to ride public transport motor bikes to class; worse still, you had to get on first, then half way, the bike rider would stop to pick a second passenger to sit behind you or you behind the first passenger.

All the worse if the person behind you had to be a guy.

Crazy stuff in your first year, but you'd better get used to it fast considering time wasn't about to stop while you sulked over the unfairness of it all.

Oh, there were school buses but those were few and far between and you couldn't just wait for them if you had a class to get to in good time.

So yes, them days, if you went to my school, you'd have to get off your high horse ( if you had any), and follow the school culture.

Soon we learnt that if you didn't want some "confraternity" boy sitting behind you on a bike and possibly harassing you, you could very easily pay the double fair for both seats, see??

So, as all things in life, you have your choices and there are certain things that help you inform those choices.

Your choice.

So this famous day, a classmate of mine says to me, "Ndidi, you should see yourself 'hailing' a bike, on a bike, or getting off a bike" and I'm like, what??!

Says he, you carry on like it's a limousine and you're royalty.

He meant it as a compliment but I was actually a bit offended by it. It's an 'inglamorous' bike for goodness sakes and all i want to do is get to class, pulease! Like I had an overdose of confidence or something. It irked me a little though; was it a good thing or a bad thing? 

Then this day in church , I came in at a time when church was full already but service hadn't quite started. Now instead of walking down the regular aisle, cos I was suddenly awash with shyness, I decided to circumvent the aisle, and go by a few walls, until I got to my regular seat. 

I'd managed to go as unnoticed as possible.

That weekend though, a friend tells me how he saw me that day, and that "Kai, Ndidi, you just had to get everyone to see you, didn't you!! Why didn't you just take the aisle??

I couldn't even defend myself. Didn't bother since obviously, he had a mindset already who he thought I was.

Another situation, at school too. My dear flatmate had her elder citizen dad come visit us for the weekend; quite a surprise.

I thought it was the sweetest thing and quite an honour for me. So, I took it in my stride to ensure he has a wholesome time. Cooking nice meals, playing soft, good music he'd like, engaging him in great conversation, etc along with his daughter.

Somehow, I don't quite know how, my friend got the impression that I was pitching myself in competition with her over her dad.

And that really beat me, so I withdrew. Luckily, he only had the weekend to stay so it was really shortlived.

And not that I was overbearing but yes, , daddy took a wholesome liking to his daughter's friend and spoke of me with accolades. I thought my friend wouldhave liked that, rather than have a flat mate who wasn't nice to daddy.

Anyways, so that's it with me and this "who do you even think you are" thing.

And more recently, I heard it again. And now even I am asking myself,

"Who for Pete's sakes do you think you are, Ndidi??"

A child of grace, ONLY. Backed by mercy and grace.

I met Jesus at 13 and came to know who I am, His love for me, pretty early in life. That He's got my back. Always.

If that gives me a certain unusual confidence or swag as they call it, my apologies please. Really, if you look closely, you'll really see the ant in me, with a Big Big Loving God. I call Him, Father.

And yes, it does get in the head somewhat, but trust me, its all balanced and I mean no harm.

Never have.

Never will.

Back to my friend. So we had the loveliest chat, affirming each other much. 

Reinforcing our right to be, our right to own, our right to dare, 

Once God has given it, and gifed it.

Once the blood of Jesus has bought it.

His grace, sufficient for us.

We need no one else's permission but His, the author and finisher of our destiny.

No matter how uncomfortable it makes any others feel....