Of late I have been questioning the meaning of life in the weight and light of death. I have watched death from a far snatch the life out of the young, the old, the living, the walking dead, the happy, the sad, the bitter, the sweet. It has been said that death is the equalizing factor. It knows not status, tribe, health, age, race or religion.
But I am not here to talk about death and edify it. I would like to reflect on life – the life you are living and the end it will lead you to.
This morning, my pastor, Reverend Julian Kyula, preached about Decisions. Life is about decisions – he said – and everything you are today can be traced to a decision you made to either honor or dishonor someone along your path.
That statement stuck in my mind and has arrested my sub-conscience since. The decision to talk about someone or not talk about someone, the decision to trust someone or not trust someone; the decision to yield or not yield; the decision to fight back or keep silent; the decision to revenge or walk away; the decision to love or hate.
I choose today to live right and I choose to begin this season of my life with honor, and by honoring
For too long we have heard about and highlighted the tragedy of the dead-beat-dad. Today I would like to chronicle the plight of the men out there who epitomize fatherhood. I have often spoken in the past about my ability to speak as a voice of authority on fatherhood despite being a woman. It’s simple, really: There are men out there who, though having sired a breed or generation, cannot speak on good fatherhood as an authority because they do not know how to be good fathers because they were never taught how hence have never practiced it. How is it then that I could – as a woman – speak as an authority? Because I have had the privilege and blessing of good fatherhood. From my biological dad, to my spiritual covering, to other men who have played a paternal role in and over my life, mostly men of God / pastors / to my mentor, and even to my brother who I watched dotingly love and care for his baby girl this afternoon. The simple fact is that I.Know.Good.Fatherhood because I HAVE HAD GOOD FATHERS AND FATHER FIGURES.
Without saying too much, today I will say this:
I would like to honor every good father out there.
Every good man out there.
Every man who has been dishonored but deserves honor.
Every good man trying to make a difference and impact his world, his way.
Every man who has been wounded by a hurt or hurting man, woman or child;
Every man who has been thrown into fatherhood prematurely and struggles to get it right;
Every father or father figure whose heart is for God.
I HONOR YOU.
To the African man, dancing to the beat of his own drum while trying to figure this thing called fatherhood out, I Honor You.
To the fathers of this nation I call home and indeed the fathers of this continent that beats through my veins and flows through my heart – a continent so rich with history, culture, laughter, and diversity – yet with so many mistakes in our past and blood in our soil – A continent of fathers who never knew how to express love but never stopped being the providers, the protectors and the covering that we needed, I Honor You.
To my own biological father who in my eyes is a giant: My hero, my friend, my very first mentor; my adviser; and so much more – Papa I Honor You.
Today I honor the fathers that you are, and the fathers that you must become.
In my eyes, you are Beautiful – Empowered – Visionary
You are @BeautifulPetal_