Sheffield

I have had some grouse with Sheffield since my final year of university. I am about to walk into a new life phase, so I neeed to let it go… I want to let it go.

When considering where to study during my A-Levels, Sheffield, Liverpool and Durham were some of my top choices. Sheffield was high up there for aerospace engineering. Liverpool was good too; I had an enjoyable interview at the university and often wish I had gone there instead. Durham did not have an aerospace engineering course, instead, they offered (at the time, as far as I remember) a general engineering course, after which students specialised.

Durham required higher grades (just a bit more) than Sheffield and Liverpool, seeing as I was navigating a new educational terrain – with my predicted/current grades at the time as well as my personal knowledge of me being somewhat not yet up to speed as I would have liked in this new educational space; not quite knowing what my limitations were, but knowing they were there… (in the middle of figuring these things out), I decided to be ‘realistic’, and leave Durham out. Maybe that was not a good idea; maybe it was.

I remember having conversations with God and trying to hear from him but like I mentioned in Navigating God's silence, God’s voice was not really as clear to me any longer.

My parents were supportive and just wanted the best for me.

Everyone I talked to, and my research highlighted Sheffield to be one of the best in the country for aerospace engineering. I felt some kind of peace/knowing about it (nothing very concrete), so I chose Sheffield.

Here’s a picture of me and fellow sixth-formers on results day, excited that we got into our university choices! I remember visiting my local library, opening a newspaper and seeing this picture. I cut out the picture for memory’s sake.

First year was amazing. I enjoyed being by myself, studying, meeting people (mostly temporary people) and exploring different university activities.

Second year was harder. I wish I lived alone or made a different accommodation choice.

Third year (my internship year) was great. I got to work at Cummins Inc. in Huddersfield while living with my family-friends in Leeds. These were the early days of me settling into England and of me somewhat starting to feel like I belonged here.

Final year was crazy. I faced spiritual warfare that almost cost me my life. It was God that saved me. Jesus came through for me.

I deleted my Facebook account when my undergraduate degree was done to help me forget the wormwood and gall moments, so all the pictures and videos of that time and period of my life are gone. I almost have nothing to show for it, a metaphor for my Sheffield experience and my age 15 to age 25 life experiences.

For a long time, I did not like talking about Sheffield. It was a sour experience overall. Where my academic dreams were meant to come to fruition became where they almost came to die (I had been prepping my mind and working towards achieving a first class since I was 8 years old).

"Sheffield was where I did everything right (as per usual), but this time, nothing worked out."

Time has passed and I have come to realise that life happens. Life happens to everyone. Sheffield just happened to be the place where life happened to me in a not-so-great way. I did enjoy studying my course and lectures but I was nowhere near the grades I wanted by the end of my degree; there was too much to fight. I still do not think I made a single friend at university (If I count anyone I met at Sheffield as a friend, we probably became friends post-university), I became depressed at Sheffield and was barely happy there. I experienced church hurt and just general envy, strife and hatred. I felt trapped in Sheffield and each time I tried to wiggle my way out of the snare, it seemed to close in tighter on me.

Sheffield was my threshing floor. And whilst threshing floors are not necessarily the most pleasurable of places, they are necessary. The wheat must be separated from the husk!

“Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life.”

There was a lot of dying to flesh.

Not too long ago, I visited Sheffield and stayed with Gloria.

I visited my first-year accommodation, walked through Endcliffe Village and made my way from there to the university, just like I would have done in my first year. I spent some time in the Student Union building and finally copped a Sheffield uni hoodie.

I went to the library (this was so emotional; I spent so much time at the Information Commons during my time at Sheffield) and tried to order some cookies and a mocha frappe like I always did, but the library shop was closed.

I made my way to the Engineering Faculty. Mapping still looked as glorious as ever. When I tried to enter, the security looked at me quizzically as it was evening, and I had no student pass. As he was about to question me, instinctively, I blurted out “I am alumni! I am an alumni!!” He smiled and opened the door wide for me. Perhaps a part of me still resides here. Mapping had changed. No wonder the university continues to maintain her top status on the league tables, particularly for engineering courses. Our Mapping study room no longer exists. A huge part of the internal building had been refurbished and modernised technologically. There was a new Diamond building (which was in construction when I left) that supported Mapping, this was now where the engineering students had their lectures.

Walking through the accommodation halls and lecture/study spaces made me realise that I never fully let my guard down in Sheffield. In fact, walking through the university during this particular visit was the first time I truly let my guard down. I find that quite sad. I do not think I found any safe or healthy space for myself during my time at Sheffield. There were too many unknowns; and my history had prepped me for a university and perhaps coming-of-age experience different from this so I was mostly guarded because I wanted to minimise poor decision making. Even if I were to make a poor decision, I wanted to make it fully conscious of what I was doing; I was still studying my environment and getting to know those life factors and the weights they carried. I think my guards popped up an down on moving to the UK which I think is expected in a new environment, as you are still observing; at uni though, those guard rails came up and remained high.

I walked through West Street and tried to get a brie and bacon sandwich from the place I liked so much during my final year, but the sandwich café no longer existed. There was a new sandwich/pastry shop. Ugh! I so wanted that brie and bacon sandwich.

I made my way to Harmony – that place offered good Chinese food at a rate suitable for students. Between 2 pm and 4 pm, they had a £5 deal; you could order any single meal for £5. Jinny Robson and I took advantage of that and went there in between intense classes and the packed schedule our course required, downing vegetable chow mein noodles, special fried rice and sweet and sour Hong Kong chicken, egg fried rice and black bean soup etc. The owner of the restaurant was a stern Chinese woman who never smiled and seemed slightly scary. The food was pretty good, and the price was just perfect, so we were at Harmony almost every weekday during our second year. Anyway, guess what!! Harmony no longer exists; a new Chinese food outlet now sits where Harmony once sat, and they do not even do any student deals!!

As I made my way towards Sheffield city centre. Tears welled up in my eyes. Emotions rose from my chest to my throat. My chest fell into a pattern of tightness and release. I would tense up and then feel a release.

The Sheffield I knew is no longer the Sheffield that is. Times have changed. People have moved on. The city itself has moved on. I needed to move on too and let go of my grouse with this vibrant city I was able to call home for close to four years during my late teenage years and early twenties.

Gloria was gracious enough to take me on a hike through the Peak District. Every student should at least visit the Peak District once – it is a rite of passage; one of the many I did not indulge in during my time at Sheffield.

A slideshow of some pictures of me at the Peak District

It was a wonderful experience, basking in the greenery and lushness of the rich countryside.

Arguments have been quelled and there are no more grouses.

Thank you, Sheffield. You may have not been good to me but you were good for me.

Navigating God's Silence / Master's in the Bag!

It was late summer in 2017; I was making my way to my new job – my first job post-university – when I thought I heard the HolySpirit say to me: “You will be here for three years.” You see, at that point in my life, everything was as chaotic as it could be. God had been silent for a long time (at least in the way I was used to Him speaking to me), but I was also starting to figure out new ways through which He was speaking to and with me.

I had learnt the hard way that God could speak to me through numerous methods and not just the way I was accustomed to Him speaking…well, theoretically, I knew that, but forgetting/overlooking this theory had cost me a lot in real life; impressions from the inner witness and words dropping in my spirit from God’s Spirit were the major ways through which I heard Him and had been led by Him for a long time, even way before I understood it was Him. The wounds were still fresh, and a lot seemed unfair. My second year to final year of university had been filled with a lot of spiritual warfare which I believe could have been very easily avoided; if only God had spoken to me the way I was used to Him speaking; if only I asked for help to decipher the situation instead of trying to be Miss Independent *sigh*.

I took a gap year post-university to recuperate from the wahala I had found myself in. I was deeply hurt, broken, confused, upset with God and generally angry at life. I felt I had done everything right with nothing to show for it. I was far from the grades I had long worked hard towards getting, God felt far away, I had no friends and everything in and around me felt like thick darkness and gloominess. In the middle of this sorry state, I barely applied for jobs, so I had nothing in line for the following year, and I had barely learnt how to sew as I planned to during the gap year. Life had hit me so hard, my usually scheduled and planned self was discombobulated. I ended up working as my aunt’s receptionist after my gap year ended, while at the same time applying for jobs.

Even in the middle of all of this, I was determined to figure out what God’s will was. After all, the horrible situation I found myself in may have happened because I was unknowingly out of God’s will; sometimes however, it feels as if God allowed these things to happen. I honestly do not know. I have pondered and pondered … was it a mistake on my part; did God allow it; was it both?

When I think of the decision I speak of, which was a huge cost to me, I realised recently that I did not necessarily rush into it, I allowed myself to be rushed into making the decision. It still hurts. If only I was wiser and had a more mature sense of discernment – I did not possess the maturity required, and understandably so. I was an 18-year-old navigating new terrains – a country I had migrated to at 15 where I still somewhat struggled to feel like I belonged; trying to understand methods in language and nuances in communication that were new to me; trying to find spirit-filled, like-minded people (after all, the Christian life should be done in community) etc. There were so many new and unknown factors to take into consideration in the middle of making critical decisions and marking major life milestones.

During this period, God was mostly silent. It was a period of personal anguish, I was so confused, and there seemed to be no guidance. I do not think I could have made the right decision on my own, I needed some guidance. The people I would normally have spoken to were far away in the country I had left behind. If I could do it all again, I would call my mum for guidance.

When I sensed what I thought God was telling me as I made my way from Leatherhead train station to my new place of work, I was not sure – was this the HolySpirit, or were those words from my own mind? I filed those words in a section of my mind, to be continuously reviewed until I was sure. I was determined to take the time to make sure it was Him speaking – No longer would I rush or allow myself to be rushed into making decisions without full confirmation. I will tarry and wait for as long as needed. I have never really been in a hurry anyway; I am very happy to do things at God’s pace.

So I began, as expressed in my post, Leatherhead, the journey and pressing into deepening and clarifying what it meant to hear from God and wait on God. I recently read a book in which the author said believers must learn to hear from God and wait on God. These are two different things. During the period when I felt God was silent, I should have stayed still and waited until I heard His leading before making any decisions or allowing myself to be rushed into making any decision. In practicing this, I have found out that many times, in the waiting, the situation simply resolves itself over time without me having to do anything or I will get a clear response giving me the answer, other times, it is a series of steps unravelled over a period of time such that sometimes, it is only in hindsight that I realise my prayers and questions have been answered.

At the end of the day, it is about being in His presence and remaining there. That’s where all the answers are. That’s where peace is and that’s where God is. God can choose to be silent or not reveal answers quickly for reasons best known to Him, according to His divine will. The thing to do is to press in, to wait until He reveals Himself – this in itself is part of divine guidance. Better to take my time going in the right direction than rush at full speed down the wrong path.

But what happens when God is silent for years? Or it feels like He has been silent for years. Theologians believe that there were about 400 years between the Old Testament (Malachi) and the New Testament (Matthew) where God was silent - there were no prophets to be God's voice and there was no messiah yet! On moving to England (I wrote about this here), I felt like I heard God less and less. The more I pressed in, the fainter His voice became, and the fewer words dropped in my spirit. I was in a state of anguish, perpetually trying to find His voice the way I was accustomed to or to just get any sign from Him.

By the time I got to university and in particular, by the end of my first year and beginning of my second year, I was tired of trying to listen out for His voice. It felt like betrayal. It felt like this God who was my best friend had left me, plus I could not seem to find like-minded people I could do life with, to figure things out together with. I wanted to do His will; I was asking questions, yet I was getting no answers and no help. It felt like my prayers were bouncing off the ceiling and I was consistently stepping into the enemy’s booby traps. Where was this God who was meant to be my shepherd?

That God was silent did not mean He was not with me or that He had deserted me. It was simply a new dispensation in my faith walk in which I would learn the voice of silence and grapple in the dark; a time when I would delve deep into word study and prayer chiefly by myself, in the absence of my usual support system, but rather in the presence of hate, strife and deep spiritual warfare. I learnt the hard way to wait on God, and it is not that I would not have waited if I knew. I still believe God could have taught me this even under not-so-chaotic circumstances because I was always eager to please Him and put Him first and do His will. Perhaps the struggle was necessary. Perhaps the breaking was part of His plan. Perhaps being in the dark about what season I was in and what was unfolding in my life was strategic and by design.

Now, until I get God’s leading, I stay put.

In those Leatherhead fields, I wrestled with the Father. I asked questions, and I pressed in all while being upset at Him. A lot seemed unfair. Slowly and steadily, I started picking up new signals like God speaking to me through nature, through silence, through open and closed doors, through random words from strangers, through a strong pull in my chest when He wanted to stop me in my tracks or when He did not want me to go down a particular path, etc. Recently, I read a book – When God Winks at You: How God Speaks Directly to You Through the Power of Coincidence. God speaks in different ways and can choose to communicate in different ways at different times and seasons. Part of growing in the faith includes being aware of this fact and being open to the numerous ways He could choose to speak to us, as well as being open to the fact that He can change methods of communication at any point, according to His perfect will and His perfect plan.

Over time waiting, I figured that what I heard was correct and indeed I was to spend three years at the company before moving on to pursue my Master’s Degree. Step by step, He led me and at every bend and turn, I asked for extra extra clarifications – I think about the extra clarifications now and find it funny, but honestly, I was tired and just wanted to make the right decisions.

"Work like it depends on you; pray like it depends on God."

I ended up studying Engineering Business Management (MSc) at the University of Sussex and completing my course with distinction! It felt like a part of my restoration package.

I started applying for my master’s about six months before the pandemic hit. By the time I began, we were in the middle of the first lockdown. I got to complete my Master’s degree from the comfort of my room. I ate, slept and studied; that’s all I did. Study, eat, sleep. There were days I slept for 10 hours at a go during the day, then I would sleep again at night. It was simply bliss. With each sleep, I felt a wave of healing come upon me, as I slowly walked out of depression and slowly walked into rest again.

P.S. With this post, I have tried to condense the journey of a few years into a few words. There are so many poignant pictures and videos to represent the rollercaster-ish mash of emotions of the past years, it was hard to choose. I hope you enjoy the photos and video as much as you like the words; each has been chosen specifically for what it represents in this post.