it really has been.

there have been highs and lows over the past month that have made feel dizzy, tired, elated, scared.

getting my first choice for externship next [academic] year? check.

getting the green light of ‘pass’ for dissertation proposal? check.

sending out my Nigeria support letters? check.

finishing my second year of school successfully? check.

crawling through comps [currently] and seeing the light at the end of the tunnel get bigger? check.

and then there’s life. while simultaneously welcoming new life into the world, full of joy, this also means slowly saying good-bye to those loved ones who are moving on.

my grandmother is 96. she has gone from a strong, passionate, vibrant, energetic, independent matriarch, full of life and beauty, to a frail, thin, weak, anxious, scared, forgetful, old woman. i haven’t seen her in four years, and thinking about her current emotional, mental, and physical state is too hard to bear. i know her time is coming, but i can’t imagine her being gone from this world. and it’s made me think even more about my own recent existential crises.

know i can’t control everything. i know change happens and it’s part of the beauty of life. i know God knows and is in control. i know that i’ve internalized this desire to be loved and sometimes i don’t know if i am. i can’t feel it. so many things i know. but all the same, it’s hard. so very hard.

there’s been opportunity these past few weeks to experience joy. and there’s been opportunity to sit with grief and pain. but i think i need to find a moment [when will that be?] to sit and reflect upon who I am in the midst of all this stuff.

so that i don’t just know, but that i am.



“though i have not seen Him, my heart knows Him well.”

taking a break from a current homework assignment to meditate on this song and blog a bit. during these past few weeks, my experience is like that of making a teeny-tiny chip in a huge block of ice, not sure if i am making any impact or headway. at the same time, i know i am in it. i know that i am going through the tunnel, and soon i will be at the other side, gazing into clouds and feeling radiant sunshine.

it’s like this journey of faith. i can’t see the reward, but i’m experiencing it. i’m attempting to hold firmly to the fact that all will be well and i will emerge victorious on the other side, because of the price already paid in my stead.

** to be continued **