The Battle and the Spoils Part 2 : Louisa

Continued from : Part 1, click here to read

5/11/2022, was about 10 years ago, on that day Louisa recalled how she struggled and warred for realities she desired, there were days when she felt helpless, her mind soaked in every emotion she hated, the once strong princess of every eye came to realize that words and routines were not enough any longer. Natural selection had seemingly left her isolated, yet with the illusion of company, her circles were changing, and her go-to’s were fighting their personal battles and experiencing their own transitions.

In what seemed like a season of well-orchestrated scenarios, tailor suited to ensure she learned survival against her will, she was one of the lucky few who were a product of the choicest influences and structures, and this was all the advantage she needed, maybe all the advantage she had.

In those days, the future she now experiences played before her eyes, she saw the possibilities and the promises, but they were seemingly blurred by the realities she had to contend with, she saw the victories, and she saw the fulfillment that came with consistency. This was not like the usual pictures of the past that came with regrets and sighs and a wish for a second chance, the pain of mistakes, and the scars of defeat.

No, this was a desirable picture of possibilities. Those days, Louisa had always been faith-driven, goal-oriented, in those seasons she had insisted on realities uncommon to the natural man of her time, or maybe she didn’t insist, maybe it was that there was a power at work deep within her that caused her to will and to ultimately do according to its pleasure.

She had many opportunities to tilt, turn or bend in a convenient direction according to the momentary impulses that raged at her like wildfires, there was always the alternative.

Now those years have gone by, she sits to relive the processes that brought her the realities she now experiences, the smiles of joy, and the relief is as fresh each time, and it drowns the memories of the inexplicable darkness she had to contend with when she thought to insist on a picture she didn’t paint.

She had warred and won on the battlefield of her thoughts, she had won her battles, she had taken territory, and she had spoils to prove, that the goodness of God was true.

Now she could write that as a tale for the generations to come, tales of timing, tales of dark nights that turned to sunny mornings, tales of divine interventions, tales of the weak becoming strong, tales of the power in our thoughts, tales of how a God makes a choice in an undeserving human and takes his choice and sets them on a hill, as one more piece in the puzzle of the picture of Humanity’s redemption.

it was morning already, 5th November 2032…