What do you want?

Of late, each time I find myself lost, I ask myself, what would the thirteen year old Mercy have done? Its almost a decade later, but I realize that most probably, that was the wisest I have ever been. Right now I have a lot of experience to show for all the years in between. Today we had a miracle service in church. Yes, I do believe in miracles, life sometimes plays you so rough that it will take a miracle from God to be up and running.
My laziness didn’t feel like leaving me alone to enjoy my youth. But I kept being haunted by this song I wrote here, that we used to sing in class eight. I can still remember the sincerity I sang it with. How I gave myself up to God completely. No second thoughts. I somehow had this deep assurance that He had my back. I’ve been weary of late. Those downs or valleys people are usually talking about in life. They are supposed to be normal apparently. So obviously going for a prayer session in church wasn’t a favorite to Mercy in all aspects.
Have you ever recreated a moment? Or wanted to at least? That’s what majorly took me to church. To once again sincerely trust in where God is taking me. To   once again give my all without a doubt or second thought to the extent that a decade down the line, that memory will drive me back to God. Hoping I will never have left His side anyway. The prayer session was a hundred fold what I expected. God had purposefully called me to attend.
But after taking it all to God, Pastor Steve, kept on insisting, “Ask God for anything,He is faithful enough”. I had brought all my complains, pain and frustrations unto Him. Now I was being asked to ask Him for more.
And that’s the major point of this piece by the way.

What I want scares me. To give you context, I’m in my last semester in the 8-4-4 system. It was supposed to end in April. Which means I was supposed to start applying for internship/jobs (but I hear internships mostly due to the job situation in Kenya) so that if all goes well, by May or thereabouts I intern somewhere as I figure out what next. But as you already know, even the best laid out plans fail. Our lecturers decided to demand for better pay during my last semester.

But the rain had started beating before that. When I left home, I felt as if I didn’t want to apply for anything. But I didn’t think much of it. I mean, sometimes I don’t even feel like doing exams. Moods come and go, right? And by the end of the day what needs to be done, will be done somehow, right? Its been a month now. The lecturers at times seem serious. The government is still playing hide and seek with them. My classmates are anxious. They should be graduating in July. This not knowing is not helping either because you can’t go home while some lecturers are handing out their course content. Staying is a waste of time too. Crossroads.
But as for me, I don’t mind the strike. Majorly because I don’t want to go to the outside world.

And as I figured out what to ask this faithful God, only one thing came to mind. My lack of enthusiasm for applying for internships or jobs was not a mood swing. I simply don’t feel like doing something normal like getting a place to go to everyday and by the end of the month, hopefully, I am remunerated for my services. So why should I apply for things I don’t want? Why should I use my energy to get something and maybe I will be so bored or depressed by the second week that I’ll resign? I’m more of a black and white person. I hate what I hate and love what I love. I simply don’t want normal. Not the want of a wishful thinking. You know the way sometimes kids don’t want to go to school? Not that way. The way you do not want to pursue medicine because your parents said so, so you instead enroll for law. That kind of a serious want.
I want to travel. And yes, I don’t mind a traveling job. But my traveling isn’t limited to a job. If I had a volunteer program to take me across the globe and return me to Kenya at 70yrs of age with absolutely nothing on me, I will have lived my life the best way I could have.
And the ferocity of my want scared me. That standing naked in front of my God( remember I surrendered everything to Him), with a chance to ask Him for anything, only one thing came to mind. Traveling. I thought that was a hobby. And even before when I entertained the idea of fleeing Kenya, it was always on a light note. I have always known that working a daily 8-5 job was not such an entertaining idea, but I had hoped that I would at least be reasonable about it and at least try. At least even get the psyche to apply. Now i do not wish to do anything of the sort. Not even the strength to at least pretend. I have at least 5 applications half filled. Some emails I had sent earlier when I hadn’t thought this through.

And what I want scares me. What I don’t want scares me even more.Adulting was supposed to be realistic rather than idealistic, right? How am I supposed to jump from where I am to a world with no defined path? How am I supposed to explain to my parents that their daughter, whom they have educated fully through the 8-4-4 system, does not wish to get a job, settle down and at least buy a car or get a house like it’s expected of her? That she can’t even get the energy to pretend. Probability is that they will ignore me for now while saying, ” ni phase, itapita tu.”
I don’t know. What do you do with yourself when not even you can understand what is going on with yourself? Clearly this isn’t a phase waiting to pass. And that is what scares me. I expected it to be. Had planned on it actually.

What would the thirteen year old Mercy have done? Trust me, this doesn’t get better. She would have done anything in her powers to fulfill her wants. She didn’t have limitations “ati ooh, this or that is what is supposed to be done or not”. She simply wanted what she wanted. I guess some things never go away with age.
Anyway, if one day you wake up and wonder why you stopped seeing blogs from a certain lost soul, just know she listened to her younger self and packed up for Malawi.