2020 – Surrendering my Life…Reflecting on 35 Years


It’s the 2.4.2020.

I’m thankful because my cough has finally disappeared!

For the first time since last week, I ventured out to get groceries and will be doing a second run tomorrow.

To see the huge queue at Asda in Clapham Junction was strange.

The fear and conspicuous alteration to London lifestyle is something I never thought I would witness in my lifetime.

Who expects to see such a thing as a viral epidemic?

But it’s actually my second time!

From the very beginning of this crisis, my auto-discernment led me to believe that not everything is as it seems with this virus. This unpleasantness is going to change the world, but not in the way one might think.

I just wonder if anyone will recognise the transformation as it happens…


***Hint – technology…


Age 7
Age 7

1990 - My first funeral. My second was in 2001.
1990 – My first funeral. My second was in 2001.

(7) My first recognisable wound


1990 – 1991. Age Seven.

The unfortunate, major memory of this year was the very severe wound I would receive, NOT from the death of my grandfather, but from three Caucasian girls.

They’d tell me that, “my skin was dirty and God didn’t clean me,” during a game of kiss-chase, where the white boys were considered clean and worthy of a kiss.

Even one of the lighter skinned boys was considered okay, because he had straight hair.

The girls saw my palms and said, “at least your white here.”

I wouldn’t learn the massive, compound damage this did to me until 25 years later, during a Christian mission trip in 2018.

There was also the moment I was picked to play The Nativity’s Joseph in front of all the pupils in the infant classes; about 100 children.

In my Primary School, we ‘knew‘ all Biblical characters to be Caucasian from the depictions we saw in books and paintings.

In afternoon assembly that day, the laughter was endless at the announcement of a black child playing the central role of Joseph.

I’d thought the staff were being cruel, not knowing that it was an honour to play the lead character.

It could’ve been worse…it could’ve been my mother’s generation where the school teachers would have black children play trees or animals.


July 7, 1991 – Chessington World of Adventures with my best friend David Corkhill
July 21, 1991 – Alton Towers. My father, brother, sister and I. Mater (mother) pops up at the end.

Message from Jesus – “I’m here with you, mourning with you, and I will heal you from all pain. Trust in me.”

Message from the World – “You see? You’re ugly, inferior, insignificant, and worthless. Being black is disgusting, but you knew that already, right? Being white is so much better. It’s the default colour. But…you can be the best. You can be the strongest. You can make it so all women will love you. “


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