Honoring Her
I see you, I hear you...
For some reason, a post about her popped up on my feed. My first reaction was sadness but also acknowledgment: “This is a beautiful girl.” A few days later, it happened again—but from another post. This time, I paused. Why is this coming up? Perhaps we have mutual friends, or maybe it's because we share the same first name.
A quick Google search disclosed that she graduated from my college. “Okay, I guess this is why.” But I also found her Substack account, and that led me here. I read her last article, and it moved me deeply. She was a kindred spirit, not just a namesake.
So this week, I would like to create space to honor her—Chidera Eze-Ewuzie, this lady I have never met.
She voiced two thoughts in her article below that weighed heavily on me. The first was a question: “Has anyone asked you if you’re okay today?” The second was a reflection: “How often people miss you in plain sight.” I encourage you to read it for some context.
As kairos would ordain it, I’m currently studying Chapter 2 of Job, and it contains one of my favorite stories—and scriptures—on friendship. In the wake of Job losing all his children and wealth, his three friends show up after hearing about it to comfort him.
“When they saw him from a distance, they could hardly recognize him; they began to weep aloud, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.”
— Job 2:12–13
I remember the early hours and days after receiving word of my dad’s passing, how my friends manned shifts and simply sat with me, taking turns until I left to join my family in New Jersey. This scripture brings back a fond memory of what it means to be truly present.
However, my goal this week is not to talk about grief but about presence.
I've also spent the week reflecting on some of my hyper-independent behaviors, something I know God is dealing with me on. I’m truly blessed when it comes to solid friendships. You know—the kind Proverbs speaks of—friends who stick closer than a brother.
Over the past several months, I’ve been working to train myself to accept all the love shown to me. When I catch myself about to decline help, I tap my leg and simply say, “Thank you” or “Thanks for thinking of me.” I remind myself that refusing is often declining God’s favor.
My favorite things to hear right now?
“Dera, please confirm your house address.”
“Sonia, remind me of your shoe size.”
“Hey, come out to lunch.”
“I’m outside your door.”
How blessed am I among men!
Reading Chidera’s last article deeply humbled me. I felt like I truly understood her—but above all, I marveled at how delicately she voiced what was going on in her mind.
I pondered for a few minutes whether, by any chance, we had crossed paths in college.
Was I kind to her?
Did I smile or acknowledge her presence?
Is this present moment in time a full-circle one, as it often happened in one of my favorite series, This Is Us?
These are questions I will never have answers to, but I want to create space to sit with them.
So, what should you take out of this?
I don’t really know.
But perhaps it’s time to assess:
Do you feel seen by those around you?
Do you allow your presence to be felt by people in your life?
Last year, I came into a deeper revelation of God’s presence in my life. I began to refer to Him as the “God who allows Himself to be seen.” It’s my personal take on El Roi—because for so long, He was present, but I was never fully discerning. Until He started to take an active posture in communicating His nearness to me.
So how do you make this message practical?
I’ll simply say: be actively present.
It’s not enough to think about someone—go the extra mile. Let them know you're thinking of them. That is what counts.
While traveling through South Africa in 2017, I picked up one of my favorite Zulu words: Sawubona. It's typically used as a greeting to say “hello,” but it carries a much deeper literary meaning. It means:
“I see you.”
It’s a deep acknowledgment of a person and a call to active presence in our relationships.
My prayer is that this piece inspires you to take a more active role in the lives around you—and also to open your heart to receive love from relationships God has already placed in your path.
Chidera, Sawubona. Rest in His peace.