Planned Romance…

Hi people! Howdy! Thanks for your comments and email. I hope I was able to address concerns appropriately. My knowledge is limited so I ask that we all commit all our struggles to God as He knows exactly what we should do.

***

Today’s topic is something I never really gave any thought to as a single person. I had always assumed that when two people meet and fall in love and get married, they will keep souring on Cupid’s wings, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes night and day. This is all true until you get married and realize, WHOA- not so at all. Now get me not wrong, you will remain loving each other (hopefully!!!) but that being “in love” bit requires some effort because all the forces are working against you! Let me paint a picture of a typical Lagos working couple:

Adanna, 27, works in an advertising firm in Ikoyi and her husband, Jide, works in an investment bank in VI. They live in an estate after VGC but because Adanna resumes at 9:30 and Jide, at 7:30, they each drive to work separately every day. They have a one year old daughter, Ezinne. Ezinne has not started any form of formal education so they leave Ezinne with her 40 year old live-in nanny, Mama Ope, during the day. The typical arrival time from work for Adanna is 9:30pm. The official closing time is 6pm but no one really leaves the office till about 7:30-8:30pm because her firm is very busy and she has a lot of work to do. Jide’s hours are slightly worse and he gets home at about 10pm on easy days.

They both arrive home tired, stressed yet feeling guilty that Mama Ope is the one raising Ezinne so they spend about an hour to two hours playing with her if only to remind her: we are your parents!!!
Adanna gets into the kitchen each night after returning from work to get stuff done and prepared for the next day. But because she has read Myles Munroe’s books on keeping the marriage bed sizzling, she drags her tired body to the bathroom to take a shower and throw on any form of lingerie she can find. By the time she’s done with her self-preparation, Jide is happily snoring away with Ezinne on his chest (also sleeping). She’s half happy that she gets to sleep and half sad that tonight makes it the 15th night of no sex. “Oh well, we shall try again tomorrow”, she thinks to herself for the third time this week as she gently carries Ezinne to her crib, gets into bed and switches of the light by her side.

***

I have found out one thing-anything that will survive AND thrive requires hardwork and determination. But before proceeding to work hard, you need to have a very clear picture of what you want and this is applicable to the whole spectrum of life and not just marriage. You need to know how you envision your life. You can even proceed to write it down so that it can easilty be referred to. You need to make a very CONSCIOUS and DELIBERATE effort . You must not go with the flow because the current is very likely to take you in the direction of all the forces. These forces include like Adanna and Jide- busy schedules, distance from work, conflicting work hours, children (in as much as we love them, they are romance killers!!!). All those forces are important in building a well-rounded life: you need to work or you might go hungry. You want and love your children and wouldn’t trade them for the world. So it is up to us as a couple to ensure that we keep the fire burning by fanning the flame, sprinkling some kerosene and for some people, lighting the burnt out fire.

Adanna knows better than to blame her husband for their lack of romance. She definitely won’t be pointing accusing fingers at her little Ezinne either. She has no one at all to blame, not even herself but she needs to make her mind up that her marriage must thrive and sizzle and this should be done consciously.

I have once spoken to a person who schedules sex and other romantic meetings! It sounded crazy to me as I was not yet married, now I see her point. She literally marks the dates on their calendar and they both try to adhere to it like any other appointment they have to keep. I thought then to myself: how unspontaneous and unromantic and mechanical and clinical but according to her  “half bread is better than none” and “planned sex is better than no sex”!!!

Another person told me of The List. She writes down what she wants to achieve and works towards it. If it means closing slightly earlier than normal once a week to be able to have dinner out with her husband or to make an elaborate dinner at home or to settle the kids in bed early, she does what she has to do. She has learned that these things do not just happen. She buys lingerie every two weeks and plans the romance. Romance, for her, is 10% natural and 90% planned. No time!

Boyfriend and Girlfriend stolen kisses and excited love doesn’t always come with you into marriage and usually, by the latter half of the first year of marriage, the butterflies would have settled. However, you have the power to rouse them when you put your mind to it. Romance must not die!!!!

So how do you guys do it, for the married ones and how do you plan to do if you are single? Some men have easy lifestyles or are so big on romance that no matter what and no matter how busy they are, they plan romantic events every week or every other week. I have heard that the typical man forgets all about romance once you get married! So what are your thoughts? Do you believe in planning romance or do you believe in going with the flow? If you are a planner, what plans do you make?

Let’s muse!!!

Temiville.xoxo

Surprise!!!

Hey my lovelies!

Long long time. I’m sure you are all thoroughly fed up of my apologies after each long hiatus. Please vex not. This time around, I have a very good excuse: I got married!!! Whoop whoop!!! lol!

Yes, on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning in the wonderful month of April at about 9:45 am, yours truly became a Mrs. After all my blogging on relationship, dating, marriage, I finally became a wife and have to start practising all my epistles. Hehe.

I must confess, it has been interesting. I’ve been married for only 16 days so I’m not exactly an authority on the marriage topic but I thank God for how far He has seen us through and I am very hopeful of a great and beautiful tomorrow all by His grace.

I intend to start a series. In fact I have so many many beautiful plans for this blog. I intend to write about my relationship (which I never do) but in the form of a story. I intend to give practical tips to brides to be on planning a wedding. I intend to start a prayer series for newbies in marriage etc. I intend to publish some of my stories that are gathering dust in the folder. So many things on my mind. But for now, I just want to do a little dance.

Here is our picture as we were being prayed for.

 

Thank God for all His mercies. I am happy to be back blogging though I doubt I can manage more than 2 posts per week. I’ll try to stay consistent henceforth.

Thank you for all your beautiful messages to those that knew.

Have a wonderful week ahead and let’s remember to say a word of prayer for our Nation.

 

Loads of love,

Temiville.xoxo

 

For the sake of ‘Peace’- Parts 2 and 3

Hi guys,

Howdy? Hope you’re all well. Job hunting is going good and I’m really excited that something great is around the corner in Jesus’ name! Thank you for all your kind words. God bless you all.x

Here are Parts 2  and 3 of For the sake of Peace. I have had people call my phone asking me to publish the second part. It took a while because I thought it best to publish two parts at once to compensate for the delay. I honestly hope we learn a thing or two from this. It is lengthier than the first one as much of the story unfolds here.

My good friend put this on her status a few days ago, ‘Better to be single and happy than married and miserable’. Ladies (and gentlemen), please keep that in mind whenever you feel a tinge of envy or pain that all your friends are getting married or engaged and you are all alone. Marriage is too important to be messed with or entered into without caution. Get excited, not for that one day, but for the future ahead, the real deal, the Marriage.

Another good friend, Ufoma (CEO, Rubies n Emerald, an event planning company) told me a great wedding can take up to a year planning. That is a 6-10 hour event. How much more should we take in planning a marriage, which we pray will last forever. Go figure!

Please read and learn.

Love lots,

Temiville.xoxo

Marrying you, Dipo was a mistake I knowingly made. It’s like a young girl letting that boy run his hands down her blouse. As his fingers descend, she knows it’s wrong, she knows she should stop him but she lets him go on anyway; not because of any pleasure she feels but because she just wants to go ahead. Now I know it to be self destruct. Oladipo Richard Adeyele, marrying you was an exercise in self destruction.

Surprisingly, the first 6 months as Mrs. Oladipo R. Adeyele were blissful. I changed my display name to that and our perfect wedding photo was constantly my DP. I felt bliss. Thinking back now, I felt that way because I had no expectations whatsoever. Wrong! I had expectations alright. I expected you to start cheating within the first month. Darn, I even knew one of your exes who had the nerve to show up at our wedding in the tightest, boob baring bandage dress I have ever seen, grinding with one of the groomsmen whilst you, my husband looked on, mesmerized then jealous by her show of shame.

Dipo, you surprised me. You see, dear readers, Dipo was not a great or loving man but he let me be. He would eat whatever I served and say a polite thanks. He would text me ‘I’m running late’ if he would be home after 9pm. He would compliment my homemaking efforts before his friends and family. He would gobble down my ogbono experiment which recipe I got from the Facebook page- So you think you can cook. The sex with him was mechanical, efficient, machine like, ritualistic- kiss, fondle, sex – in that order- nothing like I’d hoped but it was okay and at least, got me pregnant in the 10th month of our marriage.

My dream had come true! Finally, he would pet me, cuddle me or at least cuddle my bump. I had finally gotten the glue to bind us in love. I was already 3 months pregnant before noticing. I was one of those medical mysteries because I still saw my period during the first 2 months of my pregnancy so though I had gained a bit of weight, I had attributed it to my many trips to Ice-cream Factory. I was slower and easily tired,  but I zeroed my mind that it could never be down to pregnancy. It was my mother in law who practically forced me to get tested. I called Dipo so excitedly as I left the clinic. Oladipo, you were so excited! You screamed. I’d never been the source of so much joy from you and I was so proud of myself. I grinned from ear to ear like a Chesire cat as I drove back to work.

One day, at 4 months gone, you snapped at me as I got ready to go to your office dinner, ‘can you not find something else to wear?! Your folds are all over the place, Sade in my office is 7 months pregnant and rolls are not hanging everywhere, do something about it woman, I don’t do obesity!’  I didn’t know that tears had started rolling down until I tasted the saltiness. Everyone else had said I was looking fit and great in pregnancy. They said I glowed. But I only believed your words. As I grew bigger, I’d get changed in the bathroom before coming out. I’d wear Body Magic. I didn’t want you to see the ‘rolls and folds’.

Nkechi, my friend was also pregnant and spoke of still having sex with her husband and still being just as desirable to him. She made me blush at her tales of their escapades in and out of bed. Dipo, you and I had stopped engaging in anything remotely related to lovemaking at 4 and a half months into my pregnancy. I felt ugly, disgusting, fat. And so I started using slimming products. I looked for the most drastic in result I could find. I read the instructions carefully and there it was- a healthy, herbal, natural slimming aid. It must be safe, I thought to myself. Within the first 2 weeks, I lost weight enough for you, Dipo, to notice and comment on. I was giddy with joy. Yay! I’d be just like Victoria Beckham and look so slim immediately after child birth. I decided to increase the dosage and it worked. The folds reduced, my thighs had that gap between them, my neck had a hollow. I only had vegetables, fruit and the shake that came with the slimming package. After a month of using, in my 6th month, we had sex, at your instance. I was looking great. That night, I gained your attention. That night, I lost our son.

You wept on the hospital floor. I was numb. The doctor, an elderly family friend, was merciless. I thought it was unprofessional to outrightly blame a woman for her own miscarriage. The doctor threw professionalism to the wind and blamed me for not eating right. My weight was not commensurate with how far along I was given my last statistics when I saw her. I weighed less than I did 3 months before and only had a bump and not as much body to show for my pregnancy. I dared not confess that I was also on drugs to stay slim. She probably would have slapped me there and then. Rightly too. I wanted to kick myself.

On our drive home, you were quiet. I tried to play the victim and would periodically hold on to my belly as though in pain just to get you to touch me and comfort me. Darn! I was the one who had lost her child. But you were having none of it and all you said was, ‘if you need to see the doctor, lemme turn back’. I knew I had lost the battle.

3 months after the miscarriage, on the exact day our son would have turned one week old, I saw the first sign of your infidelity. You received a call, smiled when you saw who was calling and walked out to receive it. You were on the phone for 45 minutes, laughing intermittently.  I knew I was in trouble.

You came back to the house, went straight to our room, had a second bath and got dressed in your best casual native attire, your newest sandals and perfume, took the keys to the new car and mumbled, ‘I’m going out and don’t keep the keys in the lock ’cause I’ll let myself in’. I knew it was over.

I waited for you. My favorite show was on but all I saw were the blurry figures on the screen through my tears. I had finished a whole bottle of white wine. I turn to alcohol when sad. That night, I was worse than sad, I was depressed. It was as though I was waiting for the inevitable sentence of death on my marriage. At 1:15am, you walked in. You were sober and looked happy until you saw me. I brought your straight face out. As much as I wanted and was almost physically itching to, I dared not ask where you had been for two reasons: 1. Early on in our relationship, you had warned me never to inquire as to your whereabouts unless you willingly offered an explanation. 2. I was scared you would be honest and tell me where exactly you had been and the answer would break me. I’d rather not know for sure. So through my post drunken state, I said, ‘welcome, should I bring your food?’.

There was no food but I just wanted to act normal and I was certain you would say no. To my shock, you said yes and proceeded to change the station to watch the replay of your favorite teams’ match screaming at each goal, missed or scored. That confirmed one thing- you had spent the evening and night with someone who didn’t care for football and you sacrificed such a big match for them. You were certainly not with one of the boys, certainly not. I was able to whip up something for you, quickly enough for you not to suspect I’d just started cooking it. You ate it, totally fixated on the tv screen, totally ignoring me. Quietly, I walked to the room and slept off. The time was 2:46 am.

Living a lie is hard. You know your man is cheating, you might even have finally put a face on the bitch’s name. But there you are, playing the dutiful wife. In your mind, it’s better to be an innocent victim, a cheated-on Mrs than have an openly failed marriage. You forget that in both situations, the marriage has failed openly.

Dipo got bolder and bolder. He would stay away for weekends claiming he was away on business trips to Abuja, Ibadan, Akure, Kaduna. He forgot who I am. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. I am a master sleuth, always have been, always will be. I know everything or can at least find out. In Uni, I’d help my girlfriends find out if their men were cheating by just listening to the stories they tell. I knew which boyfriend was outrightly cheating and which was just bored.

Dipo forgot that we put a tracking device on all our 3 cars and with a click, I’d know exactly where the car was located. Through the tracker, I discovered that his mistress was living in Akute, in the outskirts of Lagos. I found out that he would leave his work at 5pm everyday, pick her up and head to hers together. I’m not sure if he would drive behind her or actually pick her up but he was a man of routine and he stuck to this pattern during the week. On Fridays, the car was usually around the Island till 11/12pm before making the journey to Akute where he would sleep. These days, it was on the Island till Saturday which means they thought better of driving in the dangers of the night and just decided to stay in a hotel. Unfailingly, by 12 noon on Saturday, the car would make the journey to Akute. The check out time for most hotels is 12 noon.

My first reaction to Dipo’s cheating was pain, then sadness, then anger. I wished he had a string of girlfriends. That way, I was assured he gave his heart to no one else. But with just one person in his life, it was clear he was in love with her. That was the main problem. It is easier to salvage a marriage where a party gives just their body away. It is very hard where the heart has also been taken away.

My second main reaction was to seek revenge. I called up an ex boyfriend of mine, ‘just to check up’. I even agreed to meet up with him, ready to give in if he made the move. I thought to myself that if I slept with someone too, we would be even and I wouldn’t feel this much hurt and pain. Thank God it was Seun I chose. I had dated Seun in Year 1 in LASU. We broke up and then had a moment during our Masters year. He was eager to rekindle our love and wasn’t detracted by the fact that I had met someone else. His reasoning was that since I wasn’t married, then I could move on. He’d travel from Dundee to Leicester on the Megabus just to see me and hand-deliver now wilting flowers to me. It was exhilarating but I was strong and in order not to succumb, I stopped picking his calls or responding to his messages.

It was hard at first. Those who had met him the two times he came visiting loved his pleasant and fun nature. He once lifted me up in the city centre much to the delight of my friends and the disapproving looks of some stuck up British people. You see, it was so easy to like Seun. For my friends, they preferred him to the so called boyfriend they had never seen and hardly saw me speak to on the phone simply because he made an effort. Whenever Dipo came to the UK, I’d have to leave school and go to wherever he was. He never ever stepped into Leicester. I always defended him by saying since he had come all the way from Nigeria, the least I could do was to get my butt off to London.

I was Suzy the Seductress the day Seun and I met up but Seun had become born again and was now a Pastor, well not really a Pastor but a counsellor in his church. I guess the Holy Spirit does reveal stuff because he saw through it all. ‘Gbekeleoluwa, why are you doing this?’, he asked as I flirtatiously flicked my Peruvian hair away from my eyes.

Earlier that day, I had tracked Dipo’s car. It was on its way to Akute and had just gone past Ojodu-Berger. I reminisced on how Dipo would complain and complain about the distance whenever I suggested that we visit my parents in Okota. The very same man was now making daily trips to Akute which is pretty much in Ogun state! That was what sealed my resolve to commit attempted cheating. I wore my hottest skinny jeans, a sheer top and my only Louboutins (yeah, I once caught Dipo admiring a girl in Loubs and thought to invest in the N100,000 red soles and nope, he never for once noticed them!). I applied my make up like I was going for a modeling competition, each lid was well mascara-ed, brows shapened and well highlighted, lips as red as scarlet, cheeks tinted with blush. I was well made up yet it was subtle and classy. I admired myself as I got into my car. I took a few selfies and uploaded one on my DP with a message that read, ” Off to have fun *wide grin* *dancing smiley* ” hoping to God Dipo would notice and ask where I was off to. Lord knows any form of love from him right then would have stopped me. Within 10 minutes of the drive from our Nicon Towers home to the restaurant off Bourdillon, I had received 11 BBMs, some admiring me, others asking where was off to. None was from Dipo.

Like I said, Seun saw through it all and refused to encourage or participate in my decision to commit adultery. He paid for the food and told me that for the sake of God and his love for Him, he had to leave. In his words, ‘Gbeke, I’m literally pulling a Joseph here. It’s either I flee now or I fall. I will be praying for you. Your home will be healed and you will laugh again. Don’t call on any man, call on Jesus. All things are possible’. He got up and walked away. There I was with more food than I could consume. I had no a appetite either. I watched as the waiter counted the 18 notes of N1000 asking if all is well. ‘Yes, I’m fine’ I replied. Another date gone bad, he must have thought. Little did he know. I took my bag and walked into my car, turned on the ignition and the AC. Using the Johnson baby wipes that is always in my car, I wiped off every trace of make up from off my face and drove home.

Today, as I write, I place a curse on everyone, who, knowing full well that a person is married, assists in any way, shape, form, manner, however grand or minute, in defiling the marriage bed and causing them to break their vows. May it never be well with them. May they suffer irreparable loss. May they ask and never receive. May they seek and not find. May they knock and may the door remain firmly shut against them. May their children suffer heartbreak. May the disease of the Egyptians fall on them. May the curses of Deuteronomy 28 from verse 15 to 68 be theirs. I also extend this prayer to everyone aiding and abetting them, to their friends who encourage or even condone such acts, who call you and another woman too ‘our wife’, like Dipo’s friend, Sanmi who hooked him up with his mistress. Sanmi, may you look for peace in your home and not find it. Sanmi, I pray that one day, you will find out that your 2 lovely boys belong to your driver and gateman respectively. Sanmi, as you have put asunder, may God close His ears to your cries and cover His eyes to your pains. Amen.

 *

Nkechi came visiting yesterday. I told her everything. Things I have not been able to voice out, even to myself. I spoke it all. She cried and then prayed with me and invited me to her church. Oh, did I mention that going to church has become a drag? Seeing couples holding hands in prayer of agreement and dancing together, laughing etc just makes me remember the void in my life then sickens me to my stomach. So gradually, I stopped going.

I have now decided to go along with her to her Church to pray for a change. I’m not going to hold my breath but I will try and believe that change will come. I will try to resurrect my dead marriage. I will try to bring back the love. I will return to God and ask that He saves me. I’m only 29 and already going through marital turmoil. It really is not a walk in the park.

I have taken time to report the situation because I was scared of baring it all. But I now know I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I tried my best for my home. I did all in the books. I tried to be sexy for my man. By the way, I’m now a size 8 up and 10 down. I would cook and cook and do all I could. Today, it was lasagne, tomorrow it would be ofada rice and stew? Dinner was going to stay fun and unpredictable, I had vowed. On Sundays and Saturdays, it would be the full English breakfast or ‘akara’ made to perfection or the pancakes in the Roman fashion that Fadeke taught me. I was a perfect Hannah the Homemaker and Catherine the Cook. I was also Sasha the sexy fierce vixen in bed, contorting myself till my neck almost snapped. I did absolutely everything, I did all. All but one. I married the wrong man. I was using the right techniques on the wrong product. I went against all I knew was right. I married someone who valued neither my presence nor my absence. I didn’t marry my friend. I didn’t let God choose, I chose and forced Him to approve. I saw the signs before marriage and went ahead. Even after the marriage, I ‘worked’ at it, I never prayed about it. I thought I could make Dipo love me by the things I did. It never works. It’s never in you to make a person love you, never. I’m sure we ladies all have instances of that ‘pest’ who liked us no matter how much we insulted and ignored him. That just goes to show that love is not earned.

I have been listening to sermons on restoration. If all these happened during the courtship, I’d have left the relationship, but I am married now. So from all the counsel I have received, I now know God will have to turn my mess around. Marrying Dipo might not have been His perfect will. It might have been His permissive will but I am married and because God hates divorce (see Malachi 2:16), I will do what I can to invite Him into my home to fix my mess.

*

Watch out for the Part 4 and how things end…

Help! I can’t afford her!

I knew what I was getting myself into from the very beginning. I mean, dating Kikelomo, a girl whose mom drives a modest 2000 Camry and dad drives a ‘Baby boy’ yet are happy to buy their daughter a 2013 Camry complete with a driver that was to take her everywhere. Kikelomo was spoilt silly by her parents. They gave her everything and when I say everything, I mean that literally. They’d sacrifice their own pleasures just to make sure she lacked nothing. She is an only child of older parents. Some parents of their ages have her as their last child of 5 kids. She is 26 and her parents are 69 and 65. They had after many years of praying, fasting and waiting and they made it clear to God, the world and to Kikelomo herself that they were extremely grateful to have her.

I first met Kikelomo in my final year of University. I was on a full Shell Scholarship to study Engineering and she was in her Foundation year. She was very popular as she was extremely friendly, attended events, got photographed everywhere, had loads of friends and even more toasters. When she finally started University, she became even more popular. We all thought she was some coded oil magnate’s daughter.

She bought a car as soon as she resumed school as a proper undergraduate. For anyone who understands how the UK works, you’d know owning a car is a total luxury, especially for a student in a campus university. This was not the US or Nigeria where cars are kind of needed. She was also popular for going home (Nigeria) at the slightest break we were given which most people will just spend in London. There were times she’d go for very short periods for a friend’s party or a relative’s event. I remember once we didn’t see her in Church on a Sunday and next thing, I heard she travelled on Friday morning and was expected that Sunday night. She had gone for her aunt’s 60^th birthday party. She lived it up in school back then, majorly.

When we eventually started talking, I was expecting a stuck up, proud girl and I was shocked. Kikelomo deceived everyone o. She’s the total opposite of the facade and is quick to tell anyone that is bold enough to ask that she is not a rich girl but a daughter of people with an overprotective heart, who went out of their way to ensure she had everything they would have given 5 sons. Her parents lived for her and gave her everything she asked for and even those she forgot to mention.

I went to hers and saw that they, indeed live a modest life. However, they spared no expense for their daughter and now that she is getting married, hmm, my folks are tired! At first, it was cute, but now, it is getting alarming. Let me give you guys a quick overview of our joint expenses. Oh by the way, they were quick to offer to pay it all if we are uncomfortable with it and that ticked my proud Ondo dad off. Her dad is Ondo too so it was quite something. Anyways, here goes:

Dress: 450k

Ring: Undecided but Kike showed me one she liked on Tiffany website. Me, I look at price before ‘liking’ anything. Kikelomo looks at the thing, likes it and convinces you to get it. I almost wee-ed in my pants when I saw the price. I mean, was it made from the golden calf? That was almost my entire salary for half the year and I have a good job!

Venue: I see absolutely nothing wrong with all these small, cute, venues around town that can seat 200 guests with the maximum price of 750k which I think is ridiculous but doable. Who are we inviting na? Kikelomo and her co-conspirators have picked about 4 options and the cheapest one (which Kike said she would ‘hate to use’ cost 1.1M)

Number of guests: As I said earlier, I think 100 from each side is ideal with allowance of another 100 mogbo moyas making it 300. Kikelomo says her friends alone are about 100! They are planning for 800 guests!

Photographer: Why should we be having a wedding in Nigeria and fly to Jand to do pre-wedding shoots and then fly our photographer, who lives in England, to Nigeria, accommodate him in a 4 star hotel for 2 nights and still pay him a huge sum?!

Entertainment: My mom goes to RCCG and she says their choir is really good. She is a deacon there and can arrange for them to sing songs at the Engagement and Wedding Reception at no cost and we can also get a reasonably priced DJ. Kikelomo has her list of songs that must be played and has one DJ in Festac that she trusts. His price is about 50k more than the one I know but I didn’t mind because I too know of that DJ’s skills. What killed me is that her dad intends to get KSA for the Engagement and trying to organise Wizkid or Iyanya for Wedding! Where’s The Fish! Those guys are bloody expensive and please, guys, answer me honestly, won’t the DJ do a better job of playing their music than they being there themselves panting and lip synching?

MC: I have this funny friend who MCs for a living. He was once popular and you guys may know him sef : Azadus. I met him at Rodizzio in GRA where he is every Saturday at the Freedom Hall Live Band thingy. Kikelomo no gree o. Her mom knows Sonny Irabor and believes he will bring more class to the event. Sonny Irabor charges like a boss that he is!

Decorator: Let’s not even go there. Is it not just balloons and ribbons? How do ballons and ribbons get to 750k?

Cake: Cakes by Tosan. Google the price

The most ridiculous to me so far is the Wedding Planner. Is this Yankee? Why can’t some of her NUMEROUS friends help her plan? Why do we have to pay someone to help us pay vendors? I’m confused.

So while all these are like jokes and all, truth is, I’m getting really fed up. For parents who have never married off a child, they know too much about wedding planning and it is clear they must have been planning their only child’s wedding since she was conceived and they found out they’d be having a girl. I’m not from a poor home, no. But I have younger ones and aside of that, I see no reason spending so much on ONE day! What about other things? More important other things? More lasting other things?

I get their excitement but I need to value my own parents too and this is getting really exhausting for them.  I know it’s a girl’s wedding but Im beginning to think maybe I really cannot afford her. I’ve not even given you guys the little expenses here and there such as fresh flowers, Louboutin shoes with our initials on the red soles, her insistence that I get a suit from Saville Row instead of from the tailor who makes lovely suits for my clolleages and I at work. The list is endless!

What exactly would you do???

Fed up Freddy

***

Hi people!!!

What’s going on? It’s just 12 noon and I have already been hit by 2 vehicles, one of which was a trailer. I was just fed up. When I spoke to my brothers about it, they asked me why I didn’t get down and take his details. I was too fed up to do that. I ordinarily would get down and rant and rave but today, I just let it go. I have purposed in my heart that my joy is unstealable. When I finally arrived at my destination, the security guard helped me hit the dent out and used engine oil to clean the scrapes so now it looks much better. I’ll find a panel beater later on.

So what do you guys think about Fed up Freddy’s post? Is he being a cheapskate or is Kike’s family being ridiculous? Share your thoughts people. How is it possible to have a fun, classy event without going broke…

That’s all folks!

Temiville.xoxo

Been long you saw me :p

Hey my lovelies,

It is with a huge sense of shame (lol) that I type this post. I have no excuses for my hiatus. Actually, I do. Good ones too and yes, I shall bore you with the details thereof.

The past three months have been very interesting for me. I went through some shitty personal stuff in February that really got me low- I mean I was literally taking 10 minute breaks to weep in the toilet! I actually got caught by a colleague doing same on my birthday. Thankfully, I was able to explain it away. I’m sure she did not believe me sha, but oh well! February was the month of transition for me-from corper to worker, from mid 20s to late 20s, from being rigid in my thinking to being a tad more open-minded. It was all too much to take in and deal with sometimes but I thank God who was faithful through it all.

Remember when I was a bit unsure of what to do next? Well, I joined this law firm somewhere in Lagos and had the most amazing experience with them. It was not just about the work (which was great) but about the entirety of my experience there. It was a whole new world where people are friendly, laugh, joke around yet work like their lives depend on it.  It was very different from the MNC where I served where though good, by 6pm, most people would be off. Sleeping in the office for many at this place is commonplace. There is no opening time and there is no closing time. Emails are flying well into the early morning. No one ever says no to a client-the aim is to always find a way to ensure they go away happy.

I looked forward to going to work everyday! I learned so much from working there and the Friday when I said my goodbye after 3 months with them, it was with a really heavy heart. They were no longer like co-workers, they were like a mini extension of my family. All I can say is being there was a healing process for me as well as a period of growth. I’ve moved to another law firm now and it’s been good. I really thank God for the opportunities he has extended my way, for the amazing friends I have made, for the relationships I have built and the thorns He has taken away from my life.

One thing I have learned and I want to share is this: when going through ish in life, don’t try to downplay it or act like it doesn’t bother you. Instead, acknowledge your feeble frame and your frailty, look to God and grow. As you go through, realise your errors and ensure you do not make them again. Then dust your self off and keep walking with your head held up.

Random gist: I went to the cinema after a long while a week ago or so and I slept through the movie, lol. My friend actually enjoyed it so I know it was a good movie but I was so tired. I can’t even remember the title but it was about a girl who had an accident, suffered amnesia and forgot her boyfriend. I’ll make sure I see it again. I saw American Pie: the Reunion on Monday. All I can say is please do not see it with a prude or your mother. Typical American Pie. Totally hilarious up until the very last scene, ‘Great movie’! lol (You’ll understand that if and when you see it.)

Law School starts on the 2^nd day of June. I am very excited but in a little corner of my mind, I am a tad worried. In this new firm I’m in, I’m realising how much reading I have to do, there is so much to refresh my memory on. I left uni in 2009 and I have pretty much not touched core law since then so when I see Law school students on Chambers Attachment spewing forth sections of the Evidence Act, drafting Affidavits, Writs of summons etc, I get a bit edgy and say a silent prayer to God to help me and I know He will. I learned no foreign trained student has ever come out with a First class in the history of the Nigerian Law School. Hmm, nothing is impossible with God!

I wish you all a fab month of May and I promise not to be doing monthly posts anymore. I leave you with this Word from Revd. Funke Felix Adejumo when she ministered at Daystar: if your husband’s life does not improve upon marrying you, you are a witch! Hehehe.

Have a beautiful Wednesday.

Enjoy some of my pictures which give a mini glimpse into my life in the last couple of months. Finally, can someone please offer guidance and tips on what to take along to Law School, what things are a must, what will be confiscated, what documents, generally the essentials, what kind of clothes etc. Thanks in advance.

My cocktail when I fell ill last month.

Olumo rock with 9 girl friends in April

At work in April. Yes Im still a Coke Addict: Vintage top by Uchy. Link to her webstore: http://uchybyuchvintage.blogspot.com/. Free delivery anywhere in Lagos!!! Shoes by Inkechi (If you are tall like me and find it sometimes difficult to get your shoe size, give her a call. She’s got it all. Amazing, fab party, work shoes!!! 08100801303)

Caught some part of the bouquet at a wedding in April :p

D and V’s wedding at Civic Centre in April. Amazing! That’s where I caught part of the bouquet btw. The comedian was bare jokes.

Friend from ISI’s engagement in Ibadan in April

Off for an event in April

That’s all folks!

Temiville..xoxo

The Estate Gate in ‘Lere

I live in Surulere.

Tired, I stroll home from the estate gate. Mayowa had graciously offered to pick me up every morning and drop me ever since my 5-year-old Camry decided to die on me.  Thankfully, the house was only 10 minutes’ walk from the gate and I had refused Mayowa’s offer to pick from my front gate. I needed those moments of reflection. In the mornings, I would think about my To-Do list and pray as I walked to the gate and in the evening, I’d think about how much I had achieved and how my day had gone.

Today was a different day, however. I had received Bolanle’s call as early as 7 am as I walked to the gate. My ‘Ara Nbe’ ring tone blared and vibrated in my hands, rudely bringing me back to the earth as I was lost in prayers. I had been so tempted to put it on silent and ignore the call but it was Bolanle calling and since I had not spoken with her in a while, I decided to pick. I also figured that it must have been urgent for her to be calling me so early in the day.

‘Hey boo’, I said attempting to sound chirpy.

‘Wasssaaaaaap?!’, she screamed. She sure sounded excited for a 7am call and no, I was not disappointed.

‘I’m engaged.  Dipo proposed’, she gushed.

I was stunned. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am always excited at news of people deciding to be together forever. But with Bolanle, I just couldn’t get past the shock and into the joy zone.

‘Molly, are you there?’.

Nothing.

‘Omolade?’, her voice woke me up from my reverie. I didn’t realise I had been quiet for a while.

‘Babes, I can’t lie to you. I am shocked. Like seriously? Shepe that dude has proposed, just like that?’, I asked.

‘As in Molade, I don’t know. It came as a shock to me too. I’m just like in a state of shock too. He did it last night and then my battery died and as soon as I woke up, I said to myself that I had to tell you first after my family. This kain God sha’.

‘Wow’ was all I could manage.

Bolanle, oblivious to my total shock went on,

‘There’s so much to catch up on my love. Let’s do dinner tomorrow at Cactus. I know you have issues with your car so I’ll drop you off afterwards. Is that okay by you?’

‘Cactus is fine. I’ll make sure I close early tomorrow. Can you be at my office by 6?’

And that was how we firmed up plans to go over how on earth she got proposed to so soon after a major breakup. Not only did she get proposed to, from the way she spoke, it was also a well thought out and well prayed over decision.

As I say my prayers, preparing to sleep, I still cannot get over the shock of it all. Omobolanle Ajibade? Engaged? Getting married? Wow. I can’t but remember past happenings…

***

Bolanle Ajibade is an amazing girl. We had met during one of the CD days at Eti Osa II LGA. She was a Batch C corper of the past year and I was a fresh Batch A corper. She was just impossible to ignore. She had been driven to the Local Government in a company car still wearing a business suit and I had wondered what she was doing there. She had tried to get some document signed but the Zonal Inspector told her she could do no such thing without the proper NYSC gear. Without arguing she left and reemerged about 10 minutes later in her khakis and white top.

I said ‘hello’ to her and asked her where she her Place of Primary Assignment was. She didn’t look like your average corper plus the fact that she had a company car and driver intrigued me even further. She mentioned one of the best consulting firms in the world with their head quarters in the US. She had already been working in the States and basically hustled/begged for a transfer to Nigeria where they had recently open shop. She looked so focus, driven and when I learned that she studied at Yale, I was blown away. We became fast friends. That was 3 years ago.

We were each other’s confidantes through series of bad relationships. She was there for me 2 years ago when I broke up with my boyfriend of 5 years. I, too, had been her shoulder to cry on when 2 serious relationships failed.  Well, with Bolanle it was always a serious relationship or nothing. She was never the type to ‘sample’ or to ‘see how it goes’. She was a serious minded lady who put that into everything she did. Bolanle and I weren’t your typical ‘see each other every day or even every weekend type of friends’ but when we did see, we shared deep things that our everyday friends were not privy to.

Bolanle’s last relationship was pretty sad. She had dated Chinedum for about a year and theirs appeared to be a rock solid relationship. They were friends first and later it developed into a strong attraction. She had invited him to her Church and he managed to convert from his Catholic faith and even became an Usher in the Pentecostal Church. From Day 1, Chinedum had been honest with her about having had a child whilst in University with his then girlfriend, Princess. His son, Jonathan was about 4 when they met. At first she has struggled with the idea but after praying about it, she decided to let it go and even asked to meet him.

Princess was only 20 when she had Jonathan and he lived with her and her parents up until she finished university at UI. When it was time for her to proceed to obtain her Masters degree, he moved to Abuja to live with Chinedum’s parents. According to her, he was a cute, well-behaved young man and she could already imagine him as hers. The fact that his mom was away and that he was with his dad’s family made it easy for her to envision life as a family unit. She would always buy him toys whenever she went with Chinedum to visit his parents and she would call to speak with him often. She loved him already and it appeared the feelings were mutual.

To cut a very long tale short, Chinedum broke up with her. According to him, he wanted to make right his wrongdoing of impregnating Princess at 19 despite the fact that she was a very good girl back then thereby subjecting her to ridicule from all fronts and exposing her devout Catholic parents to shame. He said that by them getting married and raising their son together, the shame of it all would be, in a way, less impactful. Princess, he explained, was a decent girl who had prayed to God for them to get back together and had refused to even date after him.

Bolanle later discovered that Chinedum eventually returned to Catholicism as Princess is also Catholic and their young son had been raised in the Catholic faith. She was devastated and inconsolable. She would weep at every slight memory of Chinedum. But through prayers, fasting, constant support and the realisation that they could really not remain friends, she bounced back. A bit too strongly, I think.

This happened just about a year ago and last I checked, she was not serious with anyone but merely going on mild dates maybe to the movies and the occasional dinner. I really couldn’t wait to get the details of how she managed to get proposed to so quickly.

Bolanle and I planned to do dinner by 6:30pm. I work in VI and her office is in Ikoyi so the arrangement was for her to pick me up by 6pm and then we go to Cactus which is not too far from my office. By 5:30, I was all packed. My boss had given me a task at about 3:30pm that should ordinarily take about 1 and a half hours to complete but I made sure I lingered till when Bolanle pinged me that she was in the car park to send it off and then I was out.

‘Babes, how na? How was your day?’ she asked as I settled into her car.

Just there, same ol’. Yours?, I responded leaning over for a kiss on both cheeks and a tight hug. I hadn’t seen her in a while and she looked good, slightly chubbier but good all the same.

‘It was great o’, she said as she began navigating her way out of the car park.

Excitedly, I declared, ‘enough of story abeg lemme see your ring!’.

It was a single stone ring with a rectangular cut diamond sitting within a high four-claw setting, with tapered shoulders. It was beautiful. Simple. Elegant.

She was so happy and her happiness made me happy for her too but I was so scared. I had only met this dude once and I thought things were a bit rushed on his part but from the look on her face, I could tell that she was in perfect peace. It was a look of contentment, the type of look that would be found on the face of a sojourner that had arrived at his destination.

As we arrived at Cactus and she put the car in park, I held her in a tight embrace and the tears came pouring, of their free will. I was so moved by it all.

I had skipped lunch and so had built up a ravenous apetite so I had pasta whilst she had a chicken Caesar salad.

‘I’m trying to fit into a size 8 wedding dress o,’ she announced.

‘What? You guys are already talking marriage?’ I don’t why that made me surprised but it did.

‘Ahn ahn, ore, you see ring on my finger, won’t you be shocked if we are not talking marriage’. She had made a fine point.

After being overfed at Cactus with portions that look like they were designed for three, Bolanle needed no urging to come out with her tale…

‘Molade, you know it all nah. All the weeping, gnashing of teeth, sleepless nights all because of man? After that whole Chinedum episode dear, my mom gave me some sound advice and I will do you great justice to pass on these nuggets of wisdom’.

By this time, I was caught up. I couldn’t wait to receive these wise words.

‘You see’, she went on, ‘my mom never understood why I would be so into a guy thereby giving him the power to hurt me so much when it’s not like I’m married or even engaged to him. She just didn’t get it. She reminded me of how things were done in her days where different men would woo her and the only heartache or inconvenience she would face would be in deciding which of her suitors she wanted for a proper courtship.

By this time, I was enthralled though words like ‘woo’, ‘suitor’, ‘courtship’ were kind of alien to me.

She went on,

‘Mom told me I was silly for investing so much in a relationship that had no guarantees whatsoever. She said I had tried things my own way for so long and failed at it and that I should simply humour her and give her own mechanism a shot. And that my dear Molly is what I did.

I prayed to God and decided to get lost in His love instead of focusing on the love man had to offer. I decided to let Him take the wheel. Then I started going out more. I’d go for events, fashion shows, birthday parties, karaoke nights with friends and their friends, singles’ meetings and dinners, the whole works. I met loads of people, loads I say. I gave out my number and gradually started selecting the ones I could relate with properly. I ignored the faffers and the obviously crazy ones and then gradually, the ones whose craze manifested with time. All those times I was going on dates, I would go on 4 dates in a week. In three weeks, I’d have been wined and dined by 6 different guys. Eventually, over time, I whittled the number down to three: the three I liked the most.

I never lied. Never promised nothing. I let them do all the hustling over me and I did all the watching, praying, studying and of course, enjoying. I was not technically going out with them but I knew they liked me and were thinking seriously about me’.

‘There’s something I must mention, babe’, she said with a glint in her eyes. ‘Go on’, I responded, almost impatiently.

‘Their presence in my life acted as a balance as I had a tendency to hold on too tightly to someone I like. But seeing three people allowed me to be able to turn down dates, be unavailable and pretty much have a fulfilling time instead of just always being there for that one person. Since I never so much as pecked them all that while, I felt not an iota of guilt.

After three months, three became two and then it was I who was faced with deciding who I wanted to be with.  I could have decided alone but I chose to decide with the help of praying people such as my parents, my pastor and his wife and my grandma. They didn’t give me any names of who is right or wrong but they told me to trust God and keep praying.

Within 2 months, my likeness for Dipo grew to deep love to almost match his for me. I gently told the other guy I was getting serious with someone else and lo and behold, on Friday after a dinner date, he proposed to me and I knew without a doubt that he is my man.

‘Wow all this under 7 months?!!!’

‘Yes oh, Molly’.

She then dropped me in front of my house gate as she wondered aloud if it would be a Kosibah gown or a Pronovias one.

***

It is a Monday morning.

As I walk to the estate gate to meet up with Mayowa, I reflect on events of the past few days. Could Bolanle’s mom be right? Is it okay to keep your options open even after the guy(s) has made it clear that he likes and that he wants to be with you? Is this not cheating, even if not in the strict sense? Maybe if I had practised this method with Tunji, I wouldn’t have been totally crushed when we separated.

The method does have its appeal I must agree. It helps us women not focus too much on any one guy thereby turning him to a husband before he even understands how he feels for us. It helps us maintain a happy, carefree, demeanour that isn’t overly clingy or expectant.  It takes away any semblance of urgency, desperation or need to always be with one man which then gives him the ammunition to hurt you, even when he doesn’t mean to, like with Chinedum and his going back to Princess.

Now that Detola from the office is beginning to show interest, I’d go out with him and see what he is about and then on Thursday, I’ll accept Mayowa’s invite to go to the movie premiere. I’ll go with Alex and his sisters to the programme their church is organizing. By the end of next month, I should have my top 3 contenders. This definitely has its appeal.

***

Dedicated to all the amazing people I work with.x

***

Happy Easter people. If Christ rose on the 3rd day, doesn’t that mean He rose on Monday? I’m just wondering.

If you call it ‘settling’, then yes, I have settled

I’ll be getting married on the 3rd Saturday in May to a man I am not in love with.

***

An ideal romantic, I have always believed in love. I looked forward to being swept right off my feet by Prince Charming. I’m the type who would weep over a love tale well told and cheer as the couple in the movies kiss and live happily ever after.

Now, however, after a really bad relationship and 28 years in the bag, I have realised that that feeling of being in love is overrated and is the final and most negligible consideration in looking for a mate. Any guy I loved never loved me back to the degree I loved. They were bad guys, sharp guys that special kind of fine guys. It never lasted. Most relationships I have been in, I have been the 70% giver, while I’d make do with whatever measly 30% the other party offered now and then. I’d lap it up like a thirsty kitten, grateful for the occasional love thrown my way.

Bode was the worst of them all. Everyone warned me against him, even his sister who loved me as her own. I stayed with him for 26 months of my life and even when we split, it was he who did the breaking up. He had cheated and cheated, it got to the point that I was now grateful to be called or visited. I stopped checking his phones because I knew what exactly I would find there and I could not bear the pain anymore. I would complain and scream and he will get mad at me for snooping on him and eventually, I would be the one apologising for not ‘trusting him enough’.

I would purpose in my heart to break up with him but find myself staying on the minute I heard his voice and he talked that talk to me. He turned me into a shadow of myself. I became a crazed out girl keeping tabs on his every move. I’d go out weekends with him just to ensure he does not hook up with any other girl. I’d randomly show up at his because I heard a lady’s voice in the background when I called. Eventually, he did the breaking up himself telling me he doesn’t deserve me. I never thought I’d beg a guy to stay with me but I did. I begged Bode, told him I wasn’t complaining. I even told him that I understood that because we are age mates he might feel the need to spread his tentacles and that I would patiently wait for him to outgrow his ways. He passed on my offer.

***

I’ll be getting married to Tayo. Tayo is born again. He doesn’t have the ready sweet words to speak. He doesn’t dress so nicely. He doesn’t get me or keep me excited. But in him, I’ve found peace and joy. Tayo would leave whatever he is doing if I need his help. He would ALWAYS drive down to the airport to pick me up when I come visiting him in Abuja. It would have been more convenient for him to have me take a cab. The day he offered to do that, I was surprised. Bode would NEVER do that. At his kindest, he’ll ask his driver to come get me. He’ll probably simply ask me to get a cab and he’ll pay. Tayo would never sleep until he has spoken with me, prayed with me and wished me a good night. With Bode, I’d be the one calling and calling.

Tayo has showed me that it is possible to have a good guy, a guy who cherishes and respects you and most importantly, loves God and puts Him first. His level of consideration towards me still baffles me. I never knew such was possible and this is why I shied away from a relationship with him initially.  It all seemed too good to be true. But it has been 11 months of courtship and he has remained the same steadfast, loving, caring man I first met.

As I walk down the aisle, I am sure my belly will not have butterflies in them but I’d walk down confident of the fact that I am placing my life in the hands of a good man. A man who takes instructions from God and passes them on to the home with love. A man who values family and togetherness and would put me before anything and anyone else. A man with whom I am sure I play second fiddle to no one but God. A man who would be a good role model to our children. A man who would stand by me no matter what happens in the home.

My mom has assured me that the sweeping love will come once the sex begins. Apparently, once you start sleeping with a man, the love grows. I look forward to it. But right now, I’m in a happy, content place.

I might not be with the handsome charmer I longed for as a young teenager. He might not have the best physique in the world. He might not have funny things to say to me all the time. He might not be able to make my heart do somersaults. He might not have the latest clothes and shoes nor know the latest slangs young peoples say. He might not understand my love for E! news and Yoruba movies. But of this I am sure:

I am with the man God selected, handpicked for me. I’m with a man with whom I feel safe, secure, looked after, cared for, pampered. I’m always relaxed. I don’t have to check his phones or wonder who he is speaking with. My heart doesn’t have to skip beats when he is not with me. I don’t have to call him 10 times before I get one call back from him. I’m not pressured to do anything ungodly instead I am challenged to draw closer to God and know Him more that I might be a deserving wife to the man God designed for me and that I may bring him as much joy and bliss as he does me. If you call this settling then yes, this girl HAS settled.

Regards,

Folu…

***

I’m not saying this writer is right and has selected wisely but Tayo clearly seems like a better choice than Bode. Many times, we ladies prioritise the wrong things. We place the cart before the horse. We look first for butterfly feelings and put that feeling of security, warmth and peace aside. We put God second and put feelings first. We dismiss a good guy for a fun guy. We dismiss the voice of wisdom, that small still voice telling us not to go ahead, or even to slow down. We damn the consequences and end up getting burnt. I pray God leads us and that we follow His leading. Amen.

Love,

Temiville.xoxo

Gracing the Catwalk

The story of Esther was told in a new dimension on Sunday at TPH by Mrs Rapu. I was intrigued by the way she explained the story in a way that I had never even thought of before.

King Ahasuerus reigned over one hundred and twenty-seven provinces, from India to Ethiopia (Esther 1). He was an extremely wealthy king and his wealth was acknowledged by all. He decided to show off his wealth and possessions. After showing off all he could, he decide to have his wife, the beautiful Queen Vashti parade her beauty in the presence of all his guests which included kings and princes of other kingdoms, principalities and provinces. But as the story goes, Vashti was busy entertaining other women and doing her own thing. She decided to defy the king’s authority and refused to comply with his wishes. This got the king very mad at her and his advisers immediately decided to advise him to have her dethroned and replaced.

Today, we study the story of Esther not from the point of the beautiful and obedient Esther but from that of Vashti, the queen who got comfortable, who relaxed and who forgot that her husband was the king who issues a decree and it gets established or you get punished. Imagine this analogy whereby God is our King Ahasuerus and we are his bride. The world in which we live is the catwalk. He wants us to go around parading our beauty: our obedience to His words, our love for others and generally our beauty. He wants the world to see out behaviours and ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over how well put together we are, over how good natured we are, over how kind we are, our level of patience, joy, peace, long suffering, meekness,  humility, respect, etc.

But do we answer His call? Are we Vashtis, blatantly ignoring the call of our King, busy with life? Are we already too familiar with God, believing God will understand, He is love and His mercies endure forever forgetting that the same Lamb is a Lion and the same Lover of our souls is a Consuming Fire? Have we started taking grace for granted quoting Romans 5:20, ‘²⁰Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound’ whilst totally ignoring what follows shortly in Romans 6:1-‘What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God forbid.’

Have we grown so accustomed to sinning with the plan to ask for forgiveness afterwards? Who do we think we deceive? God cannot be mocked. God cannot be fooled. He knows all. He sees all.

 

This life is a catwalk. The roads on which we drive are catwalks. Our workplaces are catwalks. Our homes are catwalks. Our relationships are catwalks. We have the opportunity to daily represent God and make Him proud as He points us out: ‘There goes Ijeoma doing my will’, ‘Look at Rita making me proud’, ‘Watch as Damola handles that situation with love’. We need to have this thought on our minds everywhere we go.

But there is a truth I have come to discover: by strength shall no man prevail. Many a time I have listened to a sermon that had me charged in my spirit and then I vow to work hard as ever to be as good as ever. As soon as I wake up and start my day, things fly in my face that absolutely FRUSTRATE me and before I can say Caramel Latte three times, I’m already back to my normal fleshly ways and I get even more frustrated that I could not hold on to my vow for up to 4 waking hours. That was in my days of ignorance, my days of thinking I have the power to do good in me. No I don’t. I need grace. I need strength. And all these, I can only get from God. We need to lean on God and on His ever sufficient grace as we grace the catwalk of life.

That is the irony of walking with God. You don’t do much walking. He practically carries you all the way. You need, however, to realize that you are weak and you need help and you will be surprised at the way He will rush in and help you.

I pray God will carry on strengthening us in this walk so that we do not fall and disgrace the designer…

Have a great day people.

Did I tell you guys I’m a bridesmaid this Saturday?!!! Well, I am going to be a bridesmaid and I wish the lovely couple a great day and more importantly a happy and fulfilling marriage.

Temiville.xoxo