When the Exile IS exiled

Well, in truth, she was not the type who became fully aware what night raveling was all about.  She was not the type who got hyped about Friday nights. So, yes, she hadn’t gotten the ‘heng’ of showering at 9pm, to dress up and spruce up for an all-night out of beer, nyam’ chom and dancing. But she was exposed. She knew what a poorly lit room with flashing lights and an obscenely loud music felt like. She understood the taste of red wine – bitter,  mellow, exclusive and every sip seemed to draw her a little bit further from her reality.

         Sometimes, the Cinderella in her beckoned… and in those times, she’d wake up and dance like no one was watching [Or like everyone was watching]. They say, 'We have one life to live.' She made it count. Sometimes, she’d sit at the corner of the room or at the bar  facing the audience and watch. The scene was a sight to behold! It was interesting to see people from all walks of life converge in one place – as if drawn by an innate force. Like gravity indifferent. Centripetal. 
*sigh… a young, elegant couple became ‘head over heels’ in love with each other – publicly kissing and making out after a few pints. The once shy crowd enjoying dinner and soulful music turn to a rowdy, gang sign, sweaty pop stars jumping heavily to local music. As the night turns darker, everyone’s intentions seems clear… the revelers, the lovers, the pickpockets, the prostitutes, the sugar daddies, everyone. Simultaneously, every passing minute bears with it a deeper blurring of the conscious and deeper errs in judgment. 

What they do not tell you in life is: Everything you see, hear, taste, do or think is a seed, which grows with every time you repeat it. Ask Lot. He pitched his tent FACING Sodom and before he knew it, he was the gate KEEPER [Genesis 13].

… it is the longing to drown herself in that loud music and flashing light that haunts her at intervals. It’s the craving to indulge in that sourness which culminates to a momentarily fuzz of her reality that excites her. But why? What is that despondency that you are running from? What is THAT breaking in you that you want to hide in a poorly lit room with flashing light or deafen with loud music? What is that reality that you want to haze with alcohol?

See, I have been there where you are. Maybe, just maybe, I had it worse. Everything that could go wrong WENT wrong. I had just lost my husband. My sister in love, Orpah lost her husband too. In just one fling, my mother in law, who was a widow, became childless . From the Book of Ruth, you might have read my story? You think your situation is hard? Try getting stuck on the fields with the society’s outcasts [Deuteronomy 24:19]. It is one thing if you are an outsider; it is another thing when you feel exiled among the castaways. It is one thing if you are broken, it is another thing if your mother, your friend, your mentor is shattered so bad, she wants y’all to call her Bitter. Her words towards you, is pure venom! It is dejecting when life sends you from a wholesome matrimonial home and sends you to the field as an outcast. It is bad when life strips you off your dignity and reduces you to a sheaf collector.

… and you know what’s sadder? If we all hang out at the field, feeling and being outcasts in one way or another and we still treat each other as outsiders. Take the church for instance; it should be a place where it is OKAY for people to be broken. It should be a place for solace. But no. They hide behind impeccable make up and the carefully chosen outfit. They have made the church to be this awesome place where they can worship but they cannot show where they are bleeding. A place where it is okay to pray but they can’t show where they are hurting. And it is not just about the church, it is about you as family, friends, colleagues, partners, team mates, mentors, acquaintances… can you be trusted with someone’s pain? Can someone be open to you? Can you admit to each other that you are hurting?

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One thing I learned about broken places is that they become venues of these things we hide.  Contrastingly nonetheless, these places are the form of wilderness that God builds us. Isaiah 43:1 He says, “… fear not for I have redeemed you; I have called YOU by YOUR name. You ARE Mine. So  can God tell ‘whose’ you are in these trying times,? Like Job, can God trust your words, your actions and even the meditations of your heart during this period of isolation? Because I can tell you for free, it was at the field that God’s favour upon my life and simultaneously that of Naomi was restored. It was at the field that I got Boaz.  
 ... and he looked at me like there was something worth looking.