Becoming Lwandle

Dear Lord

I am not. I am becoming. I know I will be. Be loyal to umqhele on my head. I know I will be.  Be a Cinderella of my generation. All I have in place of the two mice and the pumpkin. Is a dream. A dream to be a voice of the voiceless. To speak the truth without fear. A dream to sit at top table talks and tear all limitations set for the girl child and woman alike. A dream to stand on power podiums, to write powerful pieces and address the African woman. Tell them that they are enough. That there is still hope. That they can win in life. It’s not much. It’s all I have. A dream. A dream to be.  I promise to leave my glass shoe behind when the clock strikes midnight. My only ticket to being found by the prince. My ticket to a dream come true. A happily ever after. An answered prayer. Ngikhanyisele indlela to green pastures and still waters. I know. I know I am tired of wishing. Waiting. Wailing for rain as I stand in this desert. I see me. A seed. I see all I can be. A rose. I am becoming. Blooming. I know I will be. Beautiful even with all these thorns. Ngobawethembekile wena othembisileyo. And surely your goodness and mercy are chasing me down all day, everyday.

Yours becoming

Lwandle

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not out darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually who are we not to be? Our playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking ourselves so that other people won’t feel insecure. We are all meant to shine as children do. We are born to make manifest your glory that is within us and as we let our own light shine we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

~Marriane Williamson