Finally, my Paris - by Harmony Koko

Finally, my Paris. If you’ve spoken to me at any point this year, you already know my answer. “What’s wrong?” “You look tired.” “What do you want right now?” Paris. Always Paris. I’ve said it at home. I’ve said it at work. I’ve said it jokingly, and I’ve said it seriously. Paris became my shorthand for rest, for quiet, for breathing again. Even my spirit started packing long before my bags did. I had imagined it so clearly that it almost felt rude of reality not to comply. It’s the holiday season. Let’s go to Paris.<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/pexels-jill-burrow-6858675.jpg"/>I was ready for the longest time. Unfortunately, my account balance had other plans. It stared deeply into my cute eyes and laughed wildly. The audacity! That laugh hurt my heart. So, I tried to negotiate. Fine. Dubai will be fine. Paris or Dubai, either one. I’m not asking for much. Am I? I wasn’t asking for excess. I was asking for relief. For rest. For a reminder that God still sees me. Still, nothing. Just bombastic side-eyes. Na wa o. Just when I was about to give up on my gorgeous cravings, I was jolted back into my ultimate reality. Wait oooo. Whose child are you again? Who is your daddy? Ah! I’ve been sleeping on a bicycle. Aye mi oo! <img src="/media/inline_insight_image/pexels-negativespace-173408.jpg"/>My Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and He says I’m His favourite 😍. He has done so much for me already that I often have to pause and catch my breath. People were starting to look at me somehow. “Is she the only one?” “Are you the only child?” I spoke to Him about these comments and He said, “Alright.” But you see, my Father is creative. He always finds a way to make me happy. He finds different ways, different signs, different moments that remind me I am seen, heard, and loved. Somewhere along the way, the destination shifted. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just quietly, like God often does. One moment I was dreaming in euros. The next, I was packing differently. Smiling differently. Trusting differently. When the opportunity finally showed up, I didn’t overthink it. I was ready, spiritually. Emotionally. Even financially… or so I thought. We’re going to Paris. <img src="/media/inline_insight_image/pexels-vlad-fonsark-2175898-4055160.jpg"/>We’ll be going by road, with a little stop to say hello to some familiar faces along the way.I stopped. I laughed. I said hello. I breathed again. And in that moment, I understood something simple. This year didn’t give me everything I imagined. But it gave me evidence. Evidence that God provides differently than we plan, but never less than we need. Sometimes I feel like the love is too much for one person. Why my Father loves me this much, I cannot fully understand. I cannot comprehend it. I only know that it overwhelms me. Who says my daddy has no favourite? Well, look at me. My odogwu. Agunechemba. The Emperor. The Conqueror. The Lion Himself. Kabiesi ooo. Olorun agbaye, take your flowers, Daddy. You’re too much. See you in 2026. And don’t forget, I’m still my Father’s favourite ❤️ But look closely. He loves you just as much.<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/pexels-micheile-20690104.jpg"/>

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