It took a simple, innocuos question to unlock not only WHY I behave the way I do, but also WHY God handles me as He does, and also WHY I will never even, for example, embark on "Project Automobile" but will be just a mere talker, or academic.
I was lying down on my bed, last afternoon, and, regurgitationg things, I asked idly, "What did the women see in me?", because it made no sense, the way they behaved so..., unusually, one and all.
God, from then on, answered that they saw Their King, and went on to forestall the question that would have arisen, sooner or later, by showing me why He was so Personally involved.
The answer lay buried in my past, and of course, with my mother, because, contrary to what people assume, women are not 'fair' in action, but biased.
There was something my mother did that made me hate her, not for her cruelty towards me, but for her despising my father so much, and overlooking me -- something that I have pretty much buried so deep that it is the one thing I never thought I would ever like to confront about the whole sordid business...even though it is the reason I act the way I do.
So, me and my sisters, we were still kids, and my dad was working in the army, in the capital, and we were barracks kids and all.
Every evening, for some reason or the other, either my mom or my dad would find a reason to can us, or both, but that did not bother us at all.
What bothered me was a guy who showed up, an 'uncle' who, later on, I dilligently searched for among both my parents' relatives, but did not find. Nor do I recall him in the same place and time as my father. He seemed to show up only when my dad was not there.
He had this face that, more than a quater of a century later, I still recall vividly, and beneath his bottom lip there was a sort of mole, right where the curve of the chin starts, so that it seemed he had an arse on his mouth, and what made his face difficult for me to read were the glasses he wore.
Made him seem sophisticated, maybe, but all I recall is feeling ashamed. For my father, because my mother had so blatantly dishonoured him that I really would have liked to kill her for that.
I am a simple guy. If she did not love him, why was she with him? Why go through all this deception and subterfuge, instead of just letting go?
I despised her for the double standards, and I also despised my father for his wilful turning away from the obvious facts that were plain to see, that he was involved with someone who had no time for him.
Till I realised that he also was playing the game; that he was just as phony as she was. He was 'biding' his time till he could get REAL revenge, till then he would pretend not to see.
So, when the two started fighting, I retracted from them both, and rejected their worlds, and also rejected everything they espoused as being necessary to life.
But I was a growing person, and burying myself in books so that I did not have to face reality would have to come to an end, someday.
And so, I was getting a bit desperate, at one stage, and when I saw, at age 13 or 14, a woman who just could not seem to get enough of looking at me as I sat inside my parents house, at the spare bedroom window, reading, I thought my life would be just seamless.
My dad had quit work in the army, bought his father's house back from a cousin of his, in Gweru, and just started vegetating, and, across the street, two houses down, this woman whom I knew had a child would, every morning, or afternoon, just sit and stare across the road at me as I sat inside, looking out.[I sat at the window because I was tense, and my own tension induced a smell which troubled me, which made me realise that I was living in terror, in an environment that made me uneasy, so I liked the whipping of the fresh air that would take my nose out of the constant lock on stress.
Funny thing; when I slept, I would curl up into a tight ball, and cover my head, and thus switch off everyone. A sign, I guess, till now, that I had turned my back on everyone and wnated nothing to do with them. Or that I never grew up, but had rejected the world from the start].
So, I was curious about this woman, and when I could take no more I delivered her a letter, having reasoned that the letter would make it less a burden for her to reply, [because if she was interested, WHY I asked myself, was she not doing anything about it?] telling her I was available if she wished.
She took the letter straight to my mom, who THEN, in the tones of one who has found a weak link in the chain, gleefully informed me that her husband would kill me if he found out.
My reaction was to be surprised: Why was a woman who was married even looking at me? Does EVERYONE of the women do the same?
I ASSUMED that she was not married, because if she had been it would be the worst kind of insult to me to make me re-live the childhood nightmare in broad daylight of seeing my mother 'accommodating' some other man.
Later, God was to show up, and at the time when I was about to be "forced" into making something of myself, He would tell me not to be deceitful.
By then I was mistrustful of everything and everyone, till I realised that, if God did NOT say what He was interested in the moment He showed up, then He would NOT suddenly change and start telling me now.
I suppose that the reason why I merely talk, the reason why I am a 'cloud that does not bear water', is that God does not want me to ever DO anything, because He said that, "The first male who uncovers his mother's nakedness belongs to ME".
I am totally His, and He would take it amiss if I ever tried to DO anything, because I can not let go of Him, to make something for myself. He is everything to me, and if something does not come from Him, then I can not acknowledge it.
So,
Those women, when they saw me, saw not just a person but someone who could and would judge them and condemn them to death with a word, if he was displeased, and they reacted accordingly.
Which is why they will live.
I was lying down on my bed, last afternoon, and, regurgitationg things, I asked idly, "What did the women see in me?", because it made no sense, the way they behaved so..., unusually, one and all.
God, from then on, answered that they saw Their King, and went on to forestall the question that would have arisen, sooner or later, by showing me why He was so Personally involved.
The answer lay buried in my past, and of course, with my mother, because, contrary to what people assume, women are not 'fair' in action, but biased.
There was something my mother did that made me hate her, not for her cruelty towards me, but for her despising my father so much, and overlooking me -- something that I have pretty much buried so deep that it is the one thing I never thought I would ever like to confront about the whole sordid business...even though it is the reason I act the way I do.
So, me and my sisters, we were still kids, and my dad was working in the army, in the capital, and we were barracks kids and all.
Every evening, for some reason or the other, either my mom or my dad would find a reason to can us, or both, but that did not bother us at all.
What bothered me was a guy who showed up, an 'uncle' who, later on, I dilligently searched for among both my parents' relatives, but did not find. Nor do I recall him in the same place and time as my father. He seemed to show up only when my dad was not there.
He had this face that, more than a quater of a century later, I still recall vividly, and beneath his bottom lip there was a sort of mole, right where the curve of the chin starts, so that it seemed he had an arse on his mouth, and what made his face difficult for me to read were the glasses he wore.
Made him seem sophisticated, maybe, but all I recall is feeling ashamed. For my father, because my mother had so blatantly dishonoured him that I really would have liked to kill her for that.
I am a simple guy. If she did not love him, why was she with him? Why go through all this deception and subterfuge, instead of just letting go?
I despised her for the double standards, and I also despised my father for his wilful turning away from the obvious facts that were plain to see, that he was involved with someone who had no time for him.
Till I realised that he also was playing the game; that he was just as phony as she was. He was 'biding' his time till he could get REAL revenge, till then he would pretend not to see.
So, when the two started fighting, I retracted from them both, and rejected their worlds, and also rejected everything they espoused as being necessary to life.
But I was a growing person, and burying myself in books so that I did not have to face reality would have to come to an end, someday.
And so, I was getting a bit desperate, at one stage, and when I saw, at age 13 or 14, a woman who just could not seem to get enough of looking at me as I sat inside my parents house, at the spare bedroom window, reading, I thought my life would be just seamless.
My dad had quit work in the army, bought his father's house back from a cousin of his, in Gweru, and just started vegetating, and, across the street, two houses down, this woman whom I knew had a child would, every morning, or afternoon, just sit and stare across the road at me as I sat inside, looking out.[I sat at the window because I was tense, and my own tension induced a smell which troubled me, which made me realise that I was living in terror, in an environment that made me uneasy, so I liked the whipping of the fresh air that would take my nose out of the constant lock on stress.
Funny thing; when I slept, I would curl up into a tight ball, and cover my head, and thus switch off everyone. A sign, I guess, till now, that I had turned my back on everyone and wnated nothing to do with them. Or that I never grew up, but had rejected the world from the start].
So, I was curious about this woman, and when I could take no more I delivered her a letter, having reasoned that the letter would make it less a burden for her to reply, [because if she was interested, WHY I asked myself, was she not doing anything about it?] telling her I was available if she wished.
She took the letter straight to my mom, who THEN, in the tones of one who has found a weak link in the chain, gleefully informed me that her husband would kill me if he found out.
My reaction was to be surprised: Why was a woman who was married even looking at me? Does EVERYONE of the women do the same?
I ASSUMED that she was not married, because if she had been it would be the worst kind of insult to me to make me re-live the childhood nightmare in broad daylight of seeing my mother 'accommodating' some other man.
Later, God was to show up, and at the time when I was about to be "forced" into making something of myself, He would tell me not to be deceitful.
By then I was mistrustful of everything and everyone, till I realised that, if God did NOT say what He was interested in the moment He showed up, then He would NOT suddenly change and start telling me now.
I suppose that the reason why I merely talk, the reason why I am a 'cloud that does not bear water', is that God does not want me to ever DO anything, because He said that, "The first male who uncovers his mother's nakedness belongs to ME".
I am totally His, and He would take it amiss if I ever tried to DO anything, because I can not let go of Him, to make something for myself. He is everything to me, and if something does not come from Him, then I can not acknowledge it.
So,
Those women, when they saw me, saw not just a person but someone who could and would judge them and condemn them to death with a word, if he was displeased, and they reacted accordingly.
Which is why they will live.
