The Chijioke Life

I find that when I get the chance for quietness and time; I start writing – for good or not so good (: It has pretty much always been this way for me. It is my way to express, to pour out what has been building up inside of me. I think that is why I enjoy these trips alone; in truth it is difficult being on your own when traveling, at least for me. I am not a gregarious person by nature and I have to “force” myself to interact and reach out to strangers. This is partially why I chose the venue that I did – alone when I want it, but scheduled interaction to prod me out of solitary melancholy. And I've met some intriguing people and enjoyed conversations and activity with new friends. But, I’ve had time to finish up old thoughts and work on new ones, which I struggle to communicate clearly here. Today I am peaceful and thankful for the surroundings, which reflect back that harmony to me. Blue, blue water rippling for miles away, the dark shadowy outline of rough coastline to my r...

I am standing on my balcony tonight, the sky so dark & cloudy you can scarcely see a 100 meters from the boat… wind stirring the dense, muggy air into tolerable breezes, watching the incessant wake of waves as the mammoth ship presses forward… I have just come from dinner, then a time of listening to a live band sing old jazzy songs and watching couples of an older generation than I, clutch each other close and spin around with eyes closed in delight, happy in just being together. It is sweet, I enjoy seeing married couples enjoying time together. I want to tell them to cherish it , cherish every moment… As song after song is performed, I find myself a little melancholy as I watch the old couples, obviously with a foundation of years… time… time that I will never have as my own – and I am a bit sad. I find myself talking to God about this and after a bit I get up and leave the couples spinning under the colored lights, laughing at themselves as they falter and trip toes. I p...

I sit here in this bright and beautiful room, overlooking pristine, blue water and the green covered mountains of Jamaica – I am away on my “sanity and solitude” trip and I am reading “1000 Gifts”, given to me by a dear friend who continues to allow the Lord to use her as a vessel of glory. Listening to the stirring melodies of Enya and learning… learning answers to the questions which have plagued me, haunted me. I am thankful – but I didn’t know why – why it is so very important , I just know that I am and I am thankful that You have caused me to SEE , to KNOW and to BE thankful. The gentle list of the huge boat that I call home for 5 nights – filled to the brim with people who are grasping frantically for happiness, to be found in an experience, an entertainment… a swirling drink, another plate of food and a willing dance partner… how is this joy? I sit here surrounded by them and I know it is NOT. I am sad, because I do not know why I KNOW this truth and they do not. Yet, I do...

A sweet, well-meaning friend recently asked me if I was “better now” … and when I answered that it doesn’t “get better” when ones’ husband and daddy dies, she said reassuringly “…well, I’m sure it gets a little better each day, you heal a little every day…” I heard her heart and loved her for what she was trying to say. I just smiled, sadly, because I knew she just didn’t know. The question flitted through my head, “…please put the shoe on your foot for a moment and try to think of your answer to that question…” Why is it that because time has passed it is assumed that one heals? The pain is daily and it is everywhere. When I go to bed it is painful, when I sit alone in church, it is painful. When I see my children hurting, it is painful. When I applaud at a child’s performance and look over to share a proud laugh with their dad and find no one; it is painful…. Every day is full of moments that make me want to cry… But for every pang, every anguished cry, I look at my Savior, ...