Saturday Morning.

Hi loves,

How have y'all been? I apologize in advance for this post. It is one very dear to my heart. And as such, would be long and devoid of structure. I've tried to sit and synchronize my thoughts but each time I begin, I find that I'm all over the place. Almost as if every thought is straining to be heard. I was raised to be big on Easter celebrations. We usually go all out. However, this past Easter will resonate for a long time in my heart.  Why? I crossed off number 8 on my "lifetime to do list".

The thing about dreams I've come to realize is this. What gets one person up in a twist does absolutely nothing for the next person. So while I might be positively ecstatic about what I'm about to share, you might just roll your eyes. Roll or not, here goes.

My family and I moved to Abuja in the late 90's. One of the most vivid memories I have of those days are of Saturday mornings. Anyone growing up in a Nigerian household knows how intense Saturday cleaning is. My Mom would ensure we covered every nook and cranny of the house. On those mornings, my Mom would play different gospel albums to "aid" in the task... Now I think it was to forestall any frowning faces as you listened to someone belt out just how much God loves you. Tsk tsk. Some days that tactic worked, other days we would carry the longest faces. To be honest though, not only did the music help you to seamlessly move from chore to chore, it also ministered to your spirit. Over the ensuing months we found that we collectively had a favorite: Don Moen. There was just something soothing and comforting in his voice. And over the years it became a norm to hear the loud sound of Don Moen's music on Saturday mornings in my house. I carried this norm with me all through secondary school to University. To this day in my own home now, I play gospel music while I'm cleaning. And when Don Moen comes on, I push repeat.
Watching Don Moen perform live was firmly on a list of things to do while I'm alive.

Now while I know that Don Moen has frequently visited Nigeria, I always seemed to just narrowly miss him. That changed this past Easter Sunday. I heard he would be worshiping at a certain church and I just stopped everything I was doing. I knew I would certainly be there. By God I would!

For someone who loves to write, words can't really express the depth of feeling I experienced that Sunday when I watched him walk to take his place at the piano seat. He began with "mi Corazon". And my soul literally sang, my spirit shouted. I silently prayed he would perform my favorite songs of his. Guess what? He did.

The service continued and then Don Moen took to the stage again. This time he sang “Arise". I cannot count the number of times I've sang along to that song early in the morning while I cooked breakfast. I sprang to my feet and sang along till my voice was hoarse.
By the time he started singing “Be it unto me" I had been transported back to my teenage years. The sense of déjà vu was so strong that I felt like I was standing outside of myself and watching. Incredibly, I was standing next to my sister. Maybe this was what heightened the nostalgia. You know, some things are predestined. I'm still thankful to whoever wrote the script. That my sister would be in Lagos on Easter Sunday with me, and we would watch Don Moen sing together for the first time just leaves me speechless and deeply deeply thankful. We exchanged glances and I knew the same memory had filtered through our hearts. We were 13 and 15 again, and it was a Saturday morning of trying to put our new home in order.
"Be it unto me “in particular was a song that represented so many things to us. The phase in our lives when we were thankful for moving from Yola, and yet wishing for more, and still utterly trusting God to have his way in our lives. That period, where we said “be it unto me, according to your word", and truly believed it. That song took us through some pretty rough times. To hear Don Moen sing it live is a feeling I will treasure for the rest of my life.

I was struggling to keep it together at that point and then he sang "Thank you Lord". It was all too much. That song for me is a song I always sing when I feel a deep gratitude to God for all he has done in my life. And then the floodgates opened for sure when I heard the instrumentals of “He never sleeps, he never slumbers “waft through. I looked like a mess for sure. Singing out on top of my lungs and wailing at the same time. I was past caring. While I tried to cry with dignity at first, I just lost it midway and sang-cried to my hearts' delight. I love that song with all of me. The words to that song are everything. It says    “when you've prayed every prayer that you know how to pray... Just remember that God is here and the answer is on its way... Our God is able, he is mighty... He is Faithful..." What a reassuring song.
And then just when I thought I was recovering, he closed with “when it's all been said and done". Brethren that is, one of my favorite songs EVER. I knew right there that I would never be the same again. This experience would stay with me till my dying day. I left church that day with a smile no one could wipe off and a spring in my step, and in my heart, a prayer for Don Moen. A man God has blessed with the power to minister through his songs. He would never know how his songs have in some way, shaped who I have become. 

Dreams come in different forms. Some are gigantic, some really infinitesimal. Some take our breath away just imagining it. Some we relish the thought of it happening. For me, this was all of the above. I knew it was within touching distance but I didn't fathom the emotions it would evoke in me. I felt goose bumps from the start to finish. I don't know what your dreams are, but I do know this. Be they big or small, hold on to them and one day, they will come to pass.

“... only what I've done for Love's reward, will stand the test of time..."

- Don Moen.