Godly teens

Dear Journal, Today was exciting. I read Lost and Found, by Sarah Jakes Roberts, and I can’t even explain how miraculous my reading this wonderful book is at this time of my life.  I love how intentional God is about us. Even in times when it seems our pain has blocked or distorted our view of Him, He still reaches out to us through the most unlikely methods. Reminds me of a line in Cory Asbury’s Reckless Love.  “…There’s no shadow you won’t light up, no mountain you won’t climb up coming after me…” I promised I would tell you about my heart wound today. You see, I needed answers to know what really caused it. It was growing into something I could no longer wish away, and assumptions were not helping. But the answers were not with me or with anybody else on the face of this earth. They were with the One person I was not exactly sure I was ready to talk to regarding the issue: God. This was lesson number 1. Sometimes God allows certain things in our lives so that He would get our full

Dear Journal,   This month, I had 2 wounds that were as different as they were similar. One happened when I mistook my thumb for a carrot while trying to make a salad, and the other happened to my heart when I heard a news that shook my world.  They taught me that God speaks through our pain, that our pain always has a purpose with God, no matter how insignificant we think they are. I never saw the both of them coming. I was just trying to make a salad for goodness’ sake! And how was I supposed to know that one bitter news would break me to pieces? Looking back, I wish I had paid more attention and stayed a little more alert. I would have been able to see that I was about to drive my finger under a sharp blade instead of the carrot, and also braced myself for the news that was getting ready to crush me. The injury on my thumb rendered my left hand ineffective. I couldn’t do anything with it because of the pain. It bled at the slightest provocation; while the injury to my heart stole my

Uche adjusted his tie as he stood in front of the mirror. He had applied for the position of software engineer in a big tech firm in Lagos three weeks ago, and today was the interview. Pulling his arms through the sleeves of his navy blue suit, he tried to scan himself for any form of excitement, enthusiasm or even hope; but he found none. Instead of approaching this interview with a sense of excitement, he realized he was bracing himself for disappointment.  He stared at his image in the mirror and sighed. How did he become so cold and lifeless? How come the very things that tickled his fancy earlier in the year no longer excited him? Where was the fire that once burned in him at the beginning of the year? Guy, he asked himself, what happened to you? He couldn't answer, and was about leaving the table when his eyes caught something beside the mirror. It was a picture of a beautiful waterfall, and underneath it, a scripture had been etched. Remember ye not the former things, neithe