Wednesday, February 4, 2015

I'M DANCING WITH BROKEN BONES

Did I tell you my hut story?My hurt heart story? 

You see, I once lived in a hut. It was dark and dirty. It was small and cramped. Its smell was almost close to that emitted by a manhole that has suddenly been opened. It was built somewhere in a corner. The foundation was poorly done but strong enough not to be blown by every wind. It was a sty of some kind. This hut was disturbing. It was like I was living with some pigs of some kind. In that hut, I stayed from dawn to dusk. All my hut knew; was my dance. In that hut, I was queen of my dance. My heart ached,it was hurt! I cried, I had been crashed. I needed a father,one who would love me and not abuse me. I needed a father who would dance with me on my wedding day. In this hut, my innocence was taken away. In this hut, many men had come and gone. The man I called uncle was one of them. I loathed men. Many days, I went without food. There was so much emptiness within. There was a hole in my hut. I needed it to be filled for it to become a home. 


Then, one day, something happened. A man came. He said he knew my father. He told me of some kind of love that only he and my Father had. He said he was the way to my Father. This man was heavy. He told me that he was carrying loads from other people. My hut couldn't bear his weight. He must have been the greatest wind my hut knew. My hut crashed and my bones were broken. There was a sudden scent in what was my hut. It was like my bones had perfume from a broken alabaster jar. I wept, I could never do my hut dance again, I had been broken! My hut was gone, my bones were broken. 


Then, this man took my hand. Like I had always dreamt a father does in their daughter's wedding. He picked me up and raised me. He showed me a new dance. He told me I was wonderfully and beautifully made. You see,there's something in the voice of a father that can wake up a sleeping lioness. It was divine! In my broken bones, I danced a glorious dance. I had joy and gladness. The bones he had broken were rejoicing. He created a cleanliness in my broken heart, a right spirit was renewed within me. I was dancing with broken bones

1 comment:

  1. Nice article Emma reminds me of the Potter s touch

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