Ayomiposi Faleye's middle name could be dubbed Insecurity and it would suit her perfectly. Battered by her mother's verbal abuses and her father's abandonment, she longs for something or someone that can fill that void and replace the uncertainty sh...
Call unto me, and I will answer thee... --Jeremiah 33:3a (KJV)
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As soon as Tayo walked out of the study, he released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He needed space, time but he wasn't sure if he wanted to think about the ramifications of what this revelation meant.
It hadn't been easy just sitting and listening to all his parents had to say. But there had been a light moment when his father had said the word progeny and he remembered when Posi had said the same.
A light moment indeed.
He stalked to the living room and sat. Everyone had gone to bed. He knew he needed to get some sleep too but his mind was too cluttered and disorganized to settle down for sleep.
With his head in his hands, he called on the One he knew he needed.
Abba, Father.
One word, one call that was pregnant with all the feelings, words, emotions he couldn't put a name to. He didn't want to sink into what he was feeling. He had been there, he had done that. And it wasn't a good place to be.
He did the only thing he knew how to: he prayed.
*******
Tayo jerked into consciousness suddenly as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. He was still seated in one of the chairs in the room. He checked the wall clock and noted the time was about 2 a.m.
He had prayed but his heart still felt heavy. Maybe, just maybe he hadn't dropped his burdens a hundred percent. His mind was moving at the speed of light as he tried to think about what this meant for him.
He, at the age of 33, just discovered that he was adopted. This meant he wasn't of royal blood and thankfully, he wasn't the first son.
Or any son of this family, for that matter.
He didn't have a birth family either. He didn't know if his grandaunt was still alive. What of his birth father? Would he still be welcome in this family? Should he tell his siblings? What of his friends?
And most of all, who was he?
He didn't have a place he could trace back to as his family line any more. As his thoughts rammed into each other, with no answer to any, he began to question who he had always believed himself to be.
Yes, he had always had a reservation about telling people he was a Sijuade but he hadn't expected that the reason behind that, whether he was aware of it or not, would be this intense. Now, it felt like everything he had believed was a lie.
Stop. Just stop. He felt and heard a part of himself shout. He didn't need thoughts like these. If anything, he needed to be grateful. He knew it. It was just taking a while for it to sink in.
