John 1: 1-4 (NIV) : In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God, He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it

My story

To discover my website, you can visit emotionalblackwriter.wordpress.com. The name reflects a pivotal moment in my life that occurred about three to four years ago. During that time, I found myself grappling with an emotional upheaval that was both unfamiliar and overwhelming. Until then, I had largely kept my feelings in check, rarely experiencing the depths of emotion or genuinely missing anyone.

Nonetheless, living alone, I was suddenly inundated with feelings I didn’t know how to process. The weight of despair became overwhelming. I even entertained the idea of ending my life. I thought it would bring relief from the turmoil within. Yet, despite these dark thoughts, I was anchored by a couple of critical reasons. First, my background in mental health taught me the harsh realities of life in a psychiatric hospital. It was a place that I fervently wanted to avoid.

Secondly, and most importantly, I felt an undeniable presence of Grace and Mercy in my life. I believed that God wouldn’t abandon me even when I had given up on myself. This profound sense of hope was instrumental. It helped me navigate the storm of emotions. It guided me toward the light rather than the darkness.

How God Approach Me

Let me start with the fact that he’s always approached me. But, I am someone who was not listening. I was busy pleasing family and friends, even though I never was interested in people.

I have always wandered through life without a clear destination or deep desires. My friends and family often engaged in lively discussions about the careers they aspired to pursue. I found myself uninterested in such ambitions. Their dreams of future professions seemed to float past me like distant clouds, completely detached from my own perspective.

In my younger years, the conversations among girls revolved around the ideals of marriage. They also centered on the joys of parenthood. Such visions were filled with wedding dresses and baby cribs. Yet, I never found myself dreaming of walking down an aisle; the thought of marriage was foreign and uninviting. Still, during my high school years, I entertained the notion of having children someday. The idea of nurturing a little one sparked my curiosity. My protective instinct felt peculiar. I envisioned myself discreetly installing spy cameras in their uniforms. I wanted to ensure that I could monitor their every step. I aimed to keep them safe from the unpredictability of the world.

My reluctance toward marriage stemmed from the image I had formed based on my parents’ relationship—an image that struck me as both unappealing and deeply unsettling. It filled me with a sense of dread, making marriage seem like an entanglement I was not prepared to face.

Still, one thing I remember from childhood is praying to God. If you asked me what I prayed about, I would not be able to tell you. I remember I was on a cushion in Nigeria. I was just praying for some random reason. I believe it’s the Holy Spirit.

However, throughout my childhood, my twenties and earliest thirties, I felt like I was walking spiritually and physically in a fog and wandering aimlessly but I was not aware of the fog.

Looking back, I think the way God approached me took a while. My mother sent me out again to attend university at Sheffield Hallam because my sister stayed in Sheffield. Still, it was time for my fog to be made aware to me because I entered a depression I could not foresee towards the end of my University. All my thought was filled with a gruesome and painful way of ending my life. I thank God for my sister and brother-in-law; they are my niece and nephew. Still, I think I used them as a form of distraction to cover depression because when I moved out again and moved to Eastleigh, I was made aware of the fog. For about 1 year and with the Mercy and Grace of God and the little whisper of the Holy Spirit, I resist self-harming and go into my bathroom, cry, wipe my tears, come into my room, and watch series to quiet the screaming voice to end it all but the moment I try to sleep or stop watching something the voice would come back.

I would give a little bit of a hint to my mother because I am from Nigeria, and telling an African mother that you feel like hurting yourself is similar to breaking her heart or telling her that she is a lousy mother. Still, I think she felt it because she would talk about never allowing a doctor to prescribe me an anti-depressant.

I attended a church, but like usual, I felt there but not alive, and I also felt like a number, but I believe it’s not the church’s fault; it was because I had not given my life to God and I just attended church.

To keep myself busy like usual, I was scrolling through my Instagram and saw a video from Hungry Generation; honestly, from Pastor Vlad, I don’t remember which video, but he talked about giving your life to Christ.

When did the fog disappear? It was when I moved back to Sheffield and temporarily joined the beautiful and lovely Woman Connect group she asked us to write down a prayer on a piece of paper, and other people would take our prayer request and pray for us. ; to be honest, I did not want to move back; I tried everything, including praying to God not to allow me to move back, but I thank God I did because I have met people who have helped me and are still helping me.

I am in a connect group with only two people, but we are now called a listening group. In this group, we ask God what is in his heart.

My faith is so young, and God has placed great people in my life that I would not have expected.

So this is my journey with God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.