M25: Victorious Even Before Battle
There is a rocking chair in my house — it’s made of the most beautiful deep green floral pattern woven with pink and purple flowers, its body like a work of art — and I love it so much, so much that it is my favorite thing about my little house. I love to sit in it and let a gentle rhythm carry me as I sit and stare, like I am doing this morning as I watch the sunset and write this. Emperor of The Universe (by Minister Dunsin Oyekan and Theophilus Sunday) is playing on my speakers and the sky is everlasting; sprawling in shades of blue and light orange, flecks of pink dancing at the edge of the day. The clouds are spreading slowly and tenderly, like they are going somewhere but nobody can rush them. There is a majesty in their very appearance. It both grounds and moves me at the same time. To exist in so vast a universe, to be known and loved so deeply, to be so small as to be forgotten, to be a miracle unfolding, to be saturated in the joy of possibility, to know that my life is glorious in every way that matters.
I am incredibly grateful to be turning twenty-five. The feeling is not as simple as gratitude, inside it there is joy, anticipation, gladness, some things I cannot clearly identify but they bubble inside my chest like a fountain whose source is deep in the ground, something that can never run out.
Twenty-four was such a monumental year. And with the gift of hindsight, I can see why it was the way it was; it was the prelude to twenty five. So many of the things that will happen in this new season will only be possible because of the breaking, the stretching and the (almost vicious way) God rearranged my life and my heart last year. Turning twenty five today, I feel as though I am standing on the precipice of something powerful, and I will jump knowing that The One Who Holds Everything Together is both ocean and sky, is incapable of letting me drown, is capable of making me fly, of making me into a beacon of light and glory. I feel so sure of the God inside of me. It is a kind of clarity that I cherish so deeply. All the noise is gone. All the desperation for validation, for an agent, or an editor or SOMEBODY who will change my life in the blink of an eye, all the worry about whether I am a good writer or not, all the anxiety about whether my books will be birthed or not. All of it is gone ( or let me say it does not dominate my thoughts the way it used to). My priorities are so clear. I know who I am. I know what my work is. I know what my center is. My God is truly the rock of my life and God, what a joy, what a blessing, what a beautiful thing to know where I belong. All the growth, all the possibilities have come from that place of security.
This month, I wrote almost ten thousand words, bringing the word count for my debut collection of essays to 45,000 words. I discovered an essay I was working on could be stretched to a book length project (thank you Gracie!) and just like that I am working on a second book. I am writing poems in my journals. I am stewarding a fellowship of believers. The Abebi Afrononfiction Institute is on my mind; the work of building community and empowering women. I feel boundless and capable, so deeply rooted in the purpose God made me for. And for that alone, I rejoice so much.n God I am so grateful for how you stripped me bare, about how you took me away from myself, took away my desires, taught me how to chase after things greater than pleasure. How to reach for eternal things. Baba mi, your girl is grateful. She is so happy. Baba mi, thank you for holding me, for not letting me destroy myself, for teaching my heart to know what is truly important.
This morning, my mum sent me a voice note in Yoruba praying for me, willing God to bless me in the sacred language of my people. I started crying barely thirty seconds in, so when her own voice cracked too, the waterworks fell. She kept calling me by my middle name, Ademidun. She calls me Ariyo, Aridunni — the one we see and we rejoice, the one we see and we are happy. Yesterday, I crossed over into my new year with worship and with prayers. All I wanted this year was to saturate my life with God and He is helping me do just that. And it is helping me do everything else. When The Bible says that it is in Jesus that we draw our life, it makes so much sense to me now. I pray before I write. Before I apply for anything. Before I enter my car and drive. I know I was not always like this. I know how much God worked on transforming me and seeing the results it only makes me trust Him even more, that everything I need to become, He will also do. So here I am, on the edge of my new season, firmly rooted, focused and free. Victorious even before battle. Too rooted to ever be swept away.
I started writing this at dusk and now the sun is high in the sky, its radiance coasting my skin in deep gold, rays of light painting the walls of my heart in an iridescent glow. As the light showers me, that is exactly how I feel basking in the love of my Father. I trust God so deeply and that is the testimony of twenty-five. 25 — a year of the move of God, a year of total and complete surrender. A year pressed to the heart of my Father. And God, the wonders? The wonderssss??? God will make a MARVEL out of me. I feel it in my chest and I know it is true. Praise be to the Lord, my rock and my God the one who commands VICTORIES for Mofiyinfoluwa.
I’m having a Writer’s Room tomorrow for my birthday! I’m inviting anyone who would love to chat! Here is the google form to fill if you’d like an invite! It’ll be on Zoom on the 29th at 3pm Lagos time (9 am IOWA Time)
