My First Love🌹

1 Corinthians 15: 55-“Oh, death where is your sting? Oh, grave where is your victory?”

Hie ,Jesus

Sometimes I can’t get my thoughts to flow coherently when I pray.

So I figured that it would be better to

translate my feelings into writing.

This is my love letter to you❤

You’re my best friend, my literal ride or die. I can’t believe you died for me. Can’t fathom it but you did.

If I could hold your hands in mine, kiss the wounds inflicted upon your holy skin and touch the perfect perforations indented into your palms.

Would I really believe it was you or would I doubt like Thomas?

Would I deny you like Peter to my friends and family?

I want a nose piercing for aesthetic, purpose but can you imagine being pierced for someone else multiple times over on different parts of your body?

Are you black like me Jesus? I think about this often?

Did they force a crown of thorns upon your thick crown of 4c curls?

Was your hair relaxed or braided or snatched under a weave?

When the soldiers spit in your face was it because they were disgusted by your melanin?

Was Mary just another grieving, struggling ,black mother whose son had been strung up like a piece of meat and slaughtered ruthlessly?

What crime did you commit except to love?

Does loving you make me a criminal?

Is that why they call it The Passion of Christ?

Because you committed a crime of Passion?

We call it crucifixion but Some might call it assisted suicide because we left you there to die. Every time we sin we extend the rope of your suffering, we play hangman with the grace afforded to us because till this day we still cannot spell the word repentance.

I’m sorry for putting you back on the cross best Friend.

I’m sorry for complaining about the boys who ghost me when I’ve left your messages on read countless times.

I archive our chats and still expect you to mark me as high priority.

Where’s the logic in that?

But there’s no logic in forgiveness. You’re still so merciful towards me.

What crime did you commit except to love?

Does loving you make me a criminal.

Am I insane for loving someone the rest of the world doesn’t see?

Someone who doesn’t “exist”.

Am I a rule breaker? A fugitive of Justice? A gangster?

Are you and I like Bonnie and Clyde but with a better agenda?

Like 2PAC I’m starting to wonder if Heaven got a ghetto?

Because Lord I’ve seen some of your Angels in the Ghetto.

They were told they couldn’t get into Heaven because of their second hand wings.

Told that Heaven only accepts the whitest angels.

Truth is , Emmanuel , it doesn’t matter what you looked like 2000 years ago, a brown or white or grey lamb.

Your blood is the same colour as mine❤ Red.

Took a DNA test and it turns out I’m 100% the daughter of a King.

You still bled out a red sea from your body, The same sea parted for the Israelites to pass through is the same blood God parted for the rest of humanity to walk through.

Is that why you turned water into wine?

The same way your Heavenly Father turned the waters of Egypt into blood?

You are the Firstborn of creation sacrificed the way the Firstborn sons of Egypt were so death could pass over us.

Is that what it means to be a mother?

When Mary’s waters broke, was that not symbolic of your baptism in the Jordan River?

Wasn’t your crucifixion a divine birth?

Wasn’t your cross a wooden umbilical cord severing us from the clutches of death?

For too long Sin had been the

mother of creation, a black widow spinning a web to kill and eat her own children………a sickening betrayal the way Judas betrayed you with a kiss.

The way Adam betrayed God as soon as the forbidden fruit touched his lips,

The way Eve betrayed her husband by offering him the first bite…..

The way she betrayed herself by feeding into her feminine insecurities

The way she was betrayed by a lying, disgusting serpent…… the same vile snake who Betrayed God in Heaven, when he was still Lucifer before the fall,

When he was still God’s best angel until he decided he didn’t want wings he wanted clout,

he didn’t want a halo.

he wanted a crown.

he didn’t want to serve much like the rulers of the world he wanted to be served.

and then you came along.

And you did all The things the devil couldn’t and didn’t want to do and more.

You exchanged wings for mortal feet.

Took up a cross instead of a throne

And exchanged your Halo for a crown of Thorns.

You bowed. You wept. You ate with sinners and washed their feet.

Are you a woman like me Jesus?

Do you feel my pain? When men undress me in the streets with their eyes are you there to cover the nakedness of my shame?

Do you understand my frustration when I have my monthlies? Are you there in bed with me rubbing my back when the cramps get too much?

Truth is, Emmanuel it doesn’t matter if you wore long robes or boyfriend jeans 2000 years ago.

You’ll always be more supportive than any of even my most comfortable bras.

I love her content✨

“If the Stars were made to Worship so will I.”

You’re my best friend.

Remember the gossip sessions we used to have when I was a little girl, I told you about all my crushes, about the boy who kissed my hand at break time and how I was convinced we would get married.

You’re my best friend. There’s no secret or flaw about me hidden from you. You love all of me. The goofy parts, the wild, carefree child in me.

You know me. You see me. You love me.

I think of you often, in between meal times and chores.

When I stay up late at night to tell you the desires of my heart. I’m making short films these days Jesus and it’s scary because sometimes I feel like I’m doing too much.

I feel like I’m overwhelming people with my work but you tell me to get up and show them anyways.

A lamp cannot be hidden under a basket but sometimes I struggle to keep my lightbulb alive then I remember I’m not working on Zesa’s schedule I’m working on yours.

And your electricity supply Jehovah exceeds the demand. It goes above and beyond.

You are the living waters that never run dry, may I never thirst for human validation🌹

You are my best friend.

We eat sadza and lacto while we watch soapies together.

You’re fluent in all my mother tongues, you speak Shona better than I do. You’re fluent in the languages of mercy and love and forgiveness.

If I am a poet it is because you my God are a poet. Your love is poetic.

If I am a writer it is only because you are the Author and Perfector of my faith. I can’t wait to see what incredible ☀plot twist you have for the story of my life.

If I am a filmmaker it’s only because you’re the director of the movie of my life, so let me act out my role for you.

I know no one else can audition to play my part except me. I have rehearsed for this very moment my entire existence.

I know the script is mostly improv.

Will I win an Oscar or an Emmy for being authentically myself?

Probably not but I don’t want to play any other part.

So let me give the best performance on the stage that is my life and when it is all over and the curtains draw to a close, to the sounds of dying applause from an adoring crowd.

May I boldly proclaim as you did on the cross.

“It is Finished.”

Love Chio🌹

LIGHTHOUSE: MY FIVE PART SHORT FILM.
Do check it out✨