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Here again we bring you another spoken word but this time around we talk about Marriage.
Introducing I Do or Do I ? By Number 8.
‘I do”….”I do”
She was now no longer his chic and he her dude
These titles were buried; she was wife, he was husband
She felt she married a man of upright standard
He’d thus far projected promise and potential of being of a leader; a guide kinda guy
Who would protect, stand in the gap, romance and provide
Write her a love song and even with his bad voice, he’d sing through it
But this fantasy didn’t sink too deep
Instead, her light was doing the sinking
Every sunset was an alert; put a ring to it
And the ring he put on her finger – a constant reminder
Of the joy, love and companionship he constantly denied her
The ring – a confirmation of her entrapment by his winding plight
To gain an identity that was darker than her daily nights
What she really wanted was a man to priest her
But instead she got one that constantly would beast her
The nicest girl now grew a darkened heart
That beat in the tempo of crushed and hurt
Keyed in rhythm with marks and cuts
And based on the hums of hurting pasts
This was the music of her wedding band!
She wanted to lose the band that was hers
Coz she felt she had lost a husband
Without death having to do them part
She cried years of tears; hers and his
For this loss of identity; hers and his
And hers coz of his
His attraction to the rest of his life
Coupled with it a desire for eternal rest by his wife
Birthing a flirtatious relationship between her blades and wrists
She couldn’t really tell why she never got to take them pills
Yet she knew only death was allowed to do them part
But she also knew full well that she wanted a way out, but
They were married, so couldn’t break up, just daily break down
But made sure she was ready to put up a show of grace from toe to face
Dress well, light up rooms with smiles and shallow small-talk
Well rehearsed responses to greetings, questions of how she was doing and what not
She was ready to leave but the weight of her vows and the understanding of the same
Kept her in what to her was a bedroom, but to him a changing room after his ring of games
The man she hoped would be an Ezekiel 33 kind of watchman
Wound up being the one who would stagger past the watchman
As he dragged his drunken self into the house in the wee hours of the morning
Adorned in the stench of immorality punctuated by hiccups of follies
To find a lady, who stopped giving the harsh, bitter and pained wife’s rebuke
But one that was ready to wipe his puke
A woman who woke up at that hour to warm his meal
Prepared her bed for her master
Who’d probably been out with some mistress
Make sure he was comfortable and had company as he ate
On some days she would even take him out on dates
She was back to washing his boxers, and cleaning his shirts
He now came home to sumptuous dinner, dessert 😉
Love is blind, but hey, so is faith
She made a lot of stuff, just not sense to him
He knew she knew of the stuff he’d do
He knew he’d hurt her
And not just on the several occasions that he slapped her
And finally, he sparked and his fuse snapped:
“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON WOMAN!?
“This has gone on for too long; what do you want?! What is this about!?”
In a calm, respectful and confident voice she responded:
“I spoke to God, my Father
The very same one to whom we vowed at the altar
Asking Him why? What I did to deserve these years
I asked Him to take my life coz my cup overflowed, with tears
How was I to submit to a man that didn’t love me?
A man that placed all else above me?
A man that would abuse me
And when he had that urge, would, simply put, use me?
And God told me that my submission is not to be an exchange for your love
I am told to do so as unto the Lord
It’s not your right that I submit to you, but my duty to God
And it’s not my right that you love me, but your duty to Him
I will not refuse to raise my hands in church because my neighbour isn’t worshipping
In the same way I will not fail to submit to you because you don’t love me
And are not washing me
With water and the Word
I thought I was justified to leave you
But I realised I was justified to forgive you
I forgave you, and I am sorry for all the pain I gave you
God is saddened at how we have made Him cheap
Turning submission and love into bargaining chips
Marriage may have a contract to it, but it’s not Business
And I know I’m not sinless; I know I have my share of the blame
But I threw away my umbrella when healing rain came,
I garnered strength to be drenched but not through my ability
But in the grace of knowing that there’s no intimacy without vulnerability”
And she sat.
With tears coming from a deep hole, he walked out with his eyes welling up
She didn’t know what this was about for she no-longer knew him well enough
She sat there, now more scarred than wounded
Evidence of healing; these marks of freedom proved it
For days he was silent; not much to say. Constantly pensive
Coming home, eating and sleeping; no longer abrasive
As she once walked out of their room, he pulled her back
Fell to his knees and amid tears in his eyes he looked into hers
Which also started boiling over, since she never saw him in this condition
And, in a breaking, shaky voice, he uttered, in deep conviction
“I want to know this God of yours, I do, baby, I do…”
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