The One About Shame

It is exactly 6 years since I published my first book. Bloom – the period diary. Looking back at who I was, I was convinced that teaching girls the basics would save them years if they were looking for a diagnosis.

This desire to give the next generation what I didn’t have fuelled my work to create the Furaha Program. It has now come full circle, as Miss K is in a cohort. Time truly does fly.

I’ve spent the last couple of years gleaning knowledge to help more women. That’s how I ended up being a certified Menstrual Cycle Coach.

I genuinely enjoy talking about all things menstrual health. The last year or so, my own period has been so harsh. I’ve been admitted twice because of it.

This isn’t my first rodeo with complicated menses. When I was 19 years old, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. It was so good to have a name for it but also deeply shameful. It wasn’t my elbow or little toe that was hurting. Instead it was my ovary and intestines playing games. Popping cysts like popcorn.

It referred to how wonky my body was. How it was failing at one of the basic things – having a period. Sharing my story gave me a community of women to walk with. Women just like me, whose body’s sometimes let them down.

A week ago, I had my 7th surgery. A hysteroscopy. It was a day surgery but I was terribly anxious. The surgery went well but I came out feeling so ashamed. It felt like my body was letting me down again and this was a whole new chapter in my story. It wasn’t endo but something else all together.

As I was trying to process the whole thing in therapy. My therapist asked me a question that gave me so much perspective.’ Just because you are mechanic does that mean your car will never breakdown?’ Being a professional doesn’t offer immunity. These struggles might still be there.

The thing about menstrual health issues is that they can be deeply lonely and personal. They have a lot of shame pegged to them. As I did my quiet time, I realized that this shame is not a new thing. Even the woman with the issue of blood, who had bled for 12 years, went alone to find Jesus. She didn’t shout or draw attention to herself. She quietly reached out to touch the hem of his garment. If you draw a parallel with the paralytic who had his friends who dug a hole in the ceiling and lowered him down to Jesus.

I’m really grateful that I have been surrounded by love. Love shatters the shame. Even during this time as I wait for the histology report, I’m still a little worried about the future, wondering if this issue of the blood will become a thing of the past, soon. I know I shouldn’t worry about tomorrow as each day has worries of it’s own. So I whisper to my heart, Peace be still.

I need a cuddle

Today I woke up grumpy. The sleep was sweet and the hours were too few. The tunes from the freshly found recorder sounded like screams to my sleepy ears. Meanwhile, my dress couldn’t fit, hello new body, and Baby K couldn’t find her crocs. Cue a mini meltdown.

After we dropped the girls and she tried to open her safety belt once more, she cried a little and then said, ‘Mummy I need a cuddle from you’. She knew that in light of the storm going on in her heart I remained a safe space for her. Back to my new body (na si mwili mpya ya mbinguni) , I have been on, and I am currently on, some strong medications whose number 1 side effect is weight gain. I can’t change the meds at the moment, but I am trying to change my attitude and to run to the safe space that’s not food.

This is a new kind of self-control. Where I’m able to identify that beneath the flurry of feelings, lays the core need. And know that the comfort that I seek may be found in a different place, at Jesus’s feet. And that I’m not too old to ask for cuddles.

Jesus, I need a cuddle.

Love Like Pancakes

The other day a group of girlies asked me what my favourite food was. At that moment it hit me that losing my memory also meant that my taste buds and their stories also took a back seat. Eventually I said in a low voice ‘pancakes’. It’s not a crepe versus American pancakes question. The bottom line is I have a soft space in my heart for well cooked pancakes.

Yesterday, was a bit of a hard day. To counter the lows I asked a friend if I could come over for breakfast. She said yes.

When I came and found pancakes, I felt a divine embrace. Witnessing that God sees and God cares. He knows what pancakes mean to me.

My new prayer is derived from Luke 12:28

‘And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little Faith?’

Little did I know those pancakes were so strategic to help me remember how wonderfully God is as I settle down.

Today my heart is on the heavier side, as I also plan to go back to hospital. I feel the tears threatening to flow. Many questions shuffling behind the scenes. Quieting anxiety that wants to speak. Overthinking, analyzing and sorting puzzles.

My heart is pegged on God’s amazing promise to care for me. In the good report or bleugh report. In the good days and not so good ones.

I pray that you may also get to experience a reminder of how wonderfully cared for you are, a sweet love like pancakes.❤️

Oh, To Be Chosen

It is really nice to be handpicked, intentionally for something. It speaks to your ability, capacity to learn and willingness to be.

Miss K has been selected to represent the school in two sports. She was quite excited to get the letters and even eager to go for the practice sessions. The football team needs her to be in school at 6:30am to practice. This is quite early and calls for an amount of sacrifice to synchronise with the other girl’s drop offs but she is so excited to take part it in it. Watching her dedication to the process has been exciting and humbling.

I don’t know if I share the same level of excitement when chosen, or at least it depends on what exactly I have been chosen for. A lot of people have told me that God has chosen me for something bigger, hence the refining FIRE. I’d love to celebrate but the flames are hot. Some of the things going on seem out of theme, shocking even, but somehow part of the course. It reminds me of how Miss K’s Martial Arts class includes jump rope, I expected more kicks and stretches, but then again skipping is a wonderful exercise. It may seem random but it is right on schedule for the class.

I’m struggling with my process, it is not simple. So much remains unknown. Some days are good, others are bleak. Today is a hard day, where I have barely made it out of bed. But, God. I am trusting that He is a good good Father and all that He does it is good. May this journey be an encouragement to others that He is still God in the good times and hard times, and that He can be trusted.

This is the journey of the chosen.

For you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you our of the darkness into his wonderful light.~1Peter 2:9

Oh, to be chosen, it is a great privilege for greater glory.

I am Still Here

I’ve been doing the school run the last couple of days, last week the traffic was horrible. Even the back routes were stuffed and it just felt like though we were inching in traffic, we weren’t quite moving. What used to be a 15 minute commute became a 45 minute commute.

Today as we were headed to school and seated in traffic. Ms Ky asked me an interesting question, ‘Mama, if Adam and Eve hadn’t eaten the fruit, there would be no traffic, right?’ I have blamed Adam and Eve for many things but not yet for traffic. One of the biggest qualms I have with them is that if they hadn’t eaten the fruit there would be no sickness. Sickness can be like traffic in this journey of life.

Healing is a heavy subject. We can pray and fast all we like but it remains God’s prerogative on who He chooses to live in the same situation, who He chooses to be fully healed and who He chooses to die.

We take the answer we get, in the timing that it comes, and even if He doesn’t answer as we’d hoped we have to believe that He is still a good Father.

I have been quite sick this year. I have spent a few weeks each month in hospital while praying for healing. I am now more ready to talk about the journey, as it has been different from my earlier intense battle with Endometriosis. I recently also found out that one of the adhesions I initially had had grown back again after surgical removal. This has weighed heavily on my heart as I thought that healing is linear, but it is not.

I am still here, hopeful in Christ. Not here because He heals, but because He is.

Healing may come, or I may have to live while taking the pills or find rest at the feet of Jesus. Either way He remains God.

If you would like to support my healing journey, please see the details below. I have a bill in hospital and monthly and bimonthly hospital visits while taking some pretty expensive medication.

I don’t know what next, but I’m still here.

Where Hard Is Too Soft A Word

Hard is too soft a word to describe this season ~ C.K

When she said these words, I sent her a virtual hug, because she got it. She understood that my current vocabulary was not articulating the depth, weight and sheer darkness of this season.

What is the theme of this season? you ask. Well, it feels somewhere in between ‘The semicolon’ and ‘When God puts you on pause’ and ‘Sometimes faith has growing pains.’

The number of ‘Wuehs’ that this season has necessitated is uncountable. It has been the exclamation when the diagnosis has thickened, when I have felt like God is quiet, when I have felt at the end of my strength, and when I have realised just how many of us are struggling out here.

I have loved typing since I was a little girl. I am part of the generation that missed shorthand by a few years. Though I do think it was kind of cool to write in symbols, signs and abbreviations, I can only imagine how fast journaling would be in shorthand. My 6 pages entries would be a 2 page entry. 

I got a virtual reminder that it has been 5 years since I wrote my first book, and it felt like this sweet accomplishment. This year I didn’t have writing goals as I crossed over to 2023. I think I wrote 3 books last year, and I was looking forward to louder projects. Then the strangest thing happened. This is the year that I have lost my voice, but also found my writing voice. 

The Lord has put me on pause and there is a semicolon hanging on my page, but it feels like the cursor is stuck behind the windows, and Google Chrome is threatening to kill pages if I am too impatient to wait. 

There’s what I want and where I am at. Reconciling that even in the midst of this fire, that we hope will not burn me, that God is still there. I may be looking for Him in what feels like earthquakes, but He is here in the whisper. I just need to still my heart and the thoughts that race through my brain, to hear Him speak and to feel His peace reign sovereign. 

A moment at a time is my motto. Each day has troubles and worries of its own. So each day, I am looking around and seeing the abundance of love and the fountain of grace that still abides in the midst of the storm. Keeping my eyes on He who never changes, and walking through the storm while on water, by His grace. 

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” ~John 16:33

Love in Abundance ❤️

I’m struggling with my sleep. It feels like I have 20 tabs open on Google that won’t close. One is playing a song in the background, another asks if I’m still there or would like to continue, and the others are frozen docs. Which means we are collectively in limbo, about to hit ctrl+alt+delete.

These quiet hours, have become a refuge. Initially I hated them, especially when I’d imagine the rest of the world snoring away. I’ve found that these are my reflective hours, my writing hours, and there has been a comfort in not tossing and turning in anger, but instead channeling that energy into thoughts and words.

During one of my musing hours, I remembered one of the things I don’t miss about the big city is how cold some houses can get. You go to bed clad like you are climbing Mount Kenya. In layers, short of wearing a balaclava.

I’m not a warm person. Aside from the hormone induced heat waves I experience from time to time, I wear my light sweaters and longer clothes while out in the evening in Mombasa, also because the choir of Mosquitoes are usually looking for a part to devour.

This season right now feels like I live in a chilly house, one of those colonial none insulated ones, with insufficient windows, or roll down shutters and some dark paint. While I assume everyone else lives in a Summery home with a little green outside. My version is cold, it’s dark and it’s dreary. The clothes feel heavy, and cover me too much to feel the sun that may peak or also the wind that may blow.

Through the, what seems like tinted windows it’s harder to see or hear the birdies sing at my window, or see the butterfly perch on the flowers outside or feel the sun rays float in.

Recently, I’ve been walking around in socks and crocs, nah, I’m not joining the slides, tracks and hoodies movement, just yet. But I’m seeking warmth and comfort. I feel like I’m losing heat.

What I’ve found that is working for me is allowing others to subtly bring the warmth in. If you know someone struggling to feel the warmth, you could try leaning in a little closer. Lingering a little longer, if they allow. Bringing rays of sunshine, finding pockets of joy. Carrying some fuzzy socks to show them you acknowledge it’s cold on the inside. Loving with action without pressure to act too differently. I guess this a dicey one. Remembering your loved one is still in there, just clad in winter wear and figuring out the Alps.

Yesterday I got a leave out, that reminded me how loved I am. Through the sense of touch I felt it again. I saw it as well, two of my friends turned sisters played with my babies because mummy is away.

At the end of the day, I read these words and they looped in my mind like an ear-worm.

During our school run, the girls each get to request one song. One of the faves is Palm of your hand by harvest. I’ve listened to it soo many times but today it is a lifeline.

My promise this day, is that Here I am in the palm of His hands and nothing can take me away. Even in the bleakness and the rock bottom that feels like it has potholes, there is love. And if I look around and allow myself to see, feel and hold it, it is there in abundance.

Have a lovely, loved and loving Sunday.

SOS – When You Need A Rescue

How long should a shower last?

According to the girlies it should be a quick affair. Lather yourself, enjoy the water, rinse and dry. Sounds pretty simple, until you have to wash off the worries of the day. When you need to put the masks you’ve worn away. That shower becomes more than just a hygiene routine, but also a part of self care. After having the girls, I found that my showers got shorter and shorter. Not because I timed them, but because I had a breathing alarm clock knocking and asking “Mummy are you done?”

During this admission, one of my conclusions is that a shower should last at least the length of two songs. Initially I needed a speaker to cue me, and this is where we thank the Lord for Spotify. Yes? YES! Now I have gotten accustomed to the length of two songs, and I actually enjoy the feeling of just being. Sometimes, as I process the day, the weight of the world feels like it is weighing down on my shoulders.

One evening a few weeks ago, I spoke out loud and said ‘Lord this hard!’ And there I heard a still small voice, louder than the shower saying, ‘Allow me to take care of you, Ess’. The tears and the water mixed and flowed. It was a place of brokenness and grace.

I really like Lauren Daigle’s song Rescue.

It has been a theme song again and again this year. While I thought rescuing would be an act of valour I have realised sometimes rescuing looks like a little birdy singing by your window, the random flowers that bloom each day, the way the palm leaves sway, or a whatsapp message that sends hope from afar. Sometimes it looks like sobbing calls, or sitting in silence while reading the mood in the other’s eyes.

Sometimes it is a bouquet of flowers or salted crisps or carrot cake from Java. Sometimes it is a song turned ear-worm, a verse the reverberates in your head. Sometimes rescuing is sharing with a friend, the relief that comes after some meds, the excitement your loved ones have when they see you. Sometimes rescuing is total healing or the relief that comes with a new day, of course after getting a great round of sleep. Sometimes it a wake up call, or someone helping you up when you fall.

Sometimes it is a random meme, or an intentional word just for you. Sometimes it is a hug or a virtual hug sent your way. Sometimes it is an intentional devotion or a prayer over the phone. Sometimes it is a really good playlist or sitting in nature. Sometimes it is a need being met in real time, sometimes it is favour with God and man. Sometimes it is a random play date and having time to rest. Sometimes it is a random conversation about the grande and mundane. Sometimes it is the relief you feel when the tears form a puddle at your feet.

Sometimes rescuing is breaking what wasn’t working and giving you a chance to learn anew. Sometimes rescuing is the literal end of a season, or a reason to transition.

Rescuing is drawing you closer to the heart of God. Giving you cover from the storm, warmth, protection, grace, love, hope, and strength to carry on. It may be in one big majestic swoop, or little lego-like block moves stacked up in to a tower.

I have a picture on my phone of this little tree with red flowers where I literally sit and talk to God. Sometimes the burden is too heavy that I speak in sighs, and I’ve also discovered tears are a fluid dialect of the heart. My pastor friend sent me these words that stuck on me like black jacks, ‘He will come and save you, Ess.’ These are lyrics from a song we sang so many times when we were kids, but here seated under this tree, I may not always feel it based on circumstances, but somewhere in the depths of my heart I know that the Lord who clothes the birds and flowers, cares about me.

As I finish off this post, with tears streaming down my cheeks, let me share something I wrote about this valley, while seated under the tree. It may resonate with those in the valley.

Be still my soul. He will come and save you. Even when life gets hard, remember that you are loved. He will rescue you.

A Kena Kind of Kindness

And the day came, when I could say that my babies weren’t such baby babies anymore. There is something amazing about watching each new year, and watching your child become.

Our last born, known here as Baby K, her name Kena Kulani – literally means Joy resembling, or so as to reveal heaven. Kena is joy, a sweetheart, strong-willed, decisive, cheeky and seeker of joy in the simple things. The baby who made it through the odds, her pregnancy kept me close to the cross and the hospital. My body did things that it hadn’t done in the previous pregnancies.

I remember that for her birth, I had the birth of my dreams. The beauty and power was in the detail, the prayer as we begun, my hand being held to help me calm down as I got the spinal anaesthesia, because I was anxious. The more times you have been in theatre the less naiive you are about the actual risks and sheer miracles that happen there. It was also the playlist brought such joy in to the room, my desires were honoured: skin-to-skin contact, delayed cord clamping, the BTL, plus I was curious to see the placenta. I was present. February 15th became a landmark in my life for a pure, genuine form of kindness. Dr Swabra, you are gold!

This year, making it to the actual date was part of the miracle. I have been in admission for more days than I would like to count. One of my biggest concerns was not being able to spend Baby K’s birthday with her. Birthdays are a big deal in our home. There is something about feeling like your uterus and its neighbours were trying to sabotage you through Endometriosis, PCOM, Cysts, Hormonal imbalance and other little foxes and then going on to have babies, 3 amazing girlies. Living, breathing miracles. It is a cause to celebrate God’s goodness and to make memories.

The doctor gave me a leave out, and I can feel the tears well up again, I experienced a Kena kind of kindness. This was the greatest gift. I lived in the present and loved being mummy. It was so precious. Before I met the girlies, I needed a medical consultation with another doctor where I truly felt seen and heard, all of my considerations were put on the table. For me that was another kind of Kena kindness. A sweet, strong yet understanding kind of kindness.

‘Receive the love, receive the kindness. There are so many people willing to care for you, if only you would let them. ‘

This is one of the most freeing lessons I learned. In a session I needed to fill a form, and I needed a pen. He offered me one, but if you know Ess, you know that Miniso pens are with her like 95% of the time. Instead of taking the pen, I poured out all of the contents of my hand bag to get one of my two pens. As I later reflected on that moment, and why I just didn’t take the pen and get on with it, I realised that sometimes I resist kindness. That many times kindness is not a pity action, or something to only be accepted when between a rock and a hard place, it is an extension of care. It is a silent gesture that reminds you that you do not have to walk this path alone, a reminder that even though they do not and may never fully understand, they would like to be there for you. It wasn’t about the pen, it was about accepting kindness. It changed how I look at things, the grande and mundane. And I have loved giving kindness, because it has a power that reverberates. The kind that sticks and bring a warm and fuzzy feeling when you remember it. The kind that stoke embers of hope.

Baby K , Ky and Miss K sprinted to me when they saw me, and hugged me. These warm hugs tugged at my heart strings. They reminded me a of a love and joy that is divine. We got to do a few of Baby K’s favourite things, and she found joy in wearing mismatched socks, cutting her cake with friends who are also sisters, receiving prezzies and finally playing with her family. I jumped on that trampoline, like a little girly. At some point, I run in glee to her, and then I fell, with my legs in a W position. She asked me Mama what happened, and I explained to her that I fell and I needed to get up. The reality is she and ‘the sisters’ as she calls them, may not remember a lot of this season, but I hope that they will know that even in my fallen state I was there. A phone conversation with Baby K showed me that despite her age, there is grace and understanding, she understood that mummy felt a little better and was able to come out for the day but needed to go back to hospital in the evening, when she feels a lot better she will be able to come home and sleep there.

And even in this season that has been so hard, and I truly feel that hard is a huge understatement, I have felt so cared for. It has been the whatsapp messages, the calls, the texts, the flowers, the random memes, the carrot cake from Java, the prayers, the practical help, the verses, the school runs, the books, the videos, the podcasts, the visits, the playdates, the space to cry and to just be, allowing me to use your tissue, it has been silence, it has been spotify playlists, it has been mpesa messages, it has been random stories, and it has been finding humour in the valley.

3 years later, on this special date as I hugged my family, I was reminded of a joy that reveals heaven. A joy that reminds that even here He still is the God who truly sees me, (Gen 16:13), even when I feel He is silent (story for another day).

Just in case, you want to get in touch, please write/text/whatsapp, I may not be able to take many calls but I see you and feel the love. Even here in the valley of the shadow of death, there are glimmers of hope. Let’s hold on to those. May you experience a joy and comfort that reveals the love and heart of God in heaven, and those around you.

I’ve needed to hear this phrase daily for the past couple of weeks, but for anyone who needs a reminder, may I be the one to remind you from smack in the middle of the murk and the spot between a rock and a hard place, that ‘It will get better.’

❤

The One About Falling

When is the last time you fell down? Like really fell down with a thud, not a ‘Oh-I-lost my footing kinda tripped fall’? The last time I fell down literally was a random Saturday last year as I walked down to the old wing basement at City mall. It has this textured sort of zebra patterned patches to help with grip. This day, in my pretty, but useless soled shoes, I sauntered down with Ky’s hand in mine. Peter and the other girlies were ahead, and then all of a sudden I fell. Or should I say it felt like slow motion fainting backwards. Except there was a thud, my spine had a minor ‘WHAT JUST HAPPENED’ moment. Even my hair lost its bounce, and matted. I got up with all the decorum I could master, and Ky was so worried, asking if I was okay. I said yes, and hoped that my spine would be fine. Needless to say I just stopped parking in that basement. Anytime that Peter does and we have to walk down that ramp, he always reminds me to walk on the greys.

I see how often Baby K falls, and think to myself there is a resilience you have at 2 years old. Where you cry while already standing. The older you get less falls are expected. Before this fall, my last major fall was back in 2009. Thika road was still under construction and it was known for its red soil. So this one day, I get off a matatu, and walk towards the campus van, and just before I made it, I fell in the red soil. My nice light coloured jeans and white top, now looked like they had been painted reddish brown, such a bold shade, and I was shook. But I did what you always do when you fall, get up, dust yourself and pretend everything is okay and move on as quickly as possible. And wait to see if there are any major aches after that. And there is always this resolve to walk more carefully, to avoid certain basements, to walk on the greys, to wear better shoes, to pray, especially against murphy’s law.

To be honest my most recent fall was in 2023. It wasn’t the typical basement head flat, or red soil kind of fall. It was a fall, where I couldn’t shake it off. Where I couldn’t quite bounce back. Where I needed to sit in it and know that adults too fall. And it is okay. Where the resilience of a 2 year old is admirable but not exactly applicable. Where the aches, the emotions and the impact need to be named and felt. The truth is that I had it coming. Really it was like walking on a floor that’s being washed, or stepping on a paper while running. It was not a matter of ‘if’, but matter of ‘when’. And I had mastered the art of playing cat and mouse.

I had known that I was struggling a bit more than most for sometime. Also getting a degree in Psychology did give me a slightly higher level of self awareness. But you know that saying about how sometimes professionals cannot treat themselves. Well, I tried all that I knew until it got too big for me. I took an online test to confirm what I already knew, and then followed up with my local Psychiatrist. I remember being asked if I was sure what I needed was a Psychologist instead, and I said no. After 3 days, I finally saw the Doctor, and my first diagnosis was Major Depressive Disorder (MDD). Let’s deal with one diagnosis at a time. The rest will unfold.

I was scared and relieved at the same time. I felt like courage the cowardly dog. I took a picture to remind me of what broken but courageous looked like. I committed to at least a 6 month plan. It seemed so rosy back then. One little detail that I struggled with was having to take antidepressants. The level we were starting at needed me to commit to therapy and medication. Whoosh, but at this point, I needed help. So in that little room, we talked about pros and cons of different drugs. We talked about my pre-existing fears. Then we finally settled on one, and so the journey begun. I remembered watching my dad take his antidepressants as I grew up and it seemed familiar. But a path I was hoping that I would evade.

‘Am I doing the right thing?’ is a question I kept asking myself. ‘Is this a lack of faith? Have I not prayed enough? Isn’t deliverance supposed to shake off the lows too? Does the brain actually get sick?’ A lot of these questions will be answered as I seek treatment. I’ve figured that two or more things can coexist or be parallel. And it is okay to have faith and act concurrently.

This is the part that no one tells you about is, google will scare you. Reading all the side-effects is like choosing the lesser but necessary evil. It is like playing inky-pinky-ponky, because there is no one size fits all for everyone. It is like a trial and error journey. And that sounds so exciting (not) if you are a newbie at all this. I settled on one and the side effects made me feel so, for lack of a better word, weird. My mouth was dry, like i literally had little saliva. I found out that coffee + antidepressants are a bad idea, because I was buzzing like an energizer bunny. I felt lighter, but the best part is that I started seeing colour. And it was so beautiful. It felt like life was pouring in to my atmosphere again. I could feel warmth again, like emotional warmth. It felt like feeling the summer rays after a long grey and cold winter.

Eventually, I got used to it. It became a regular part of my morning routine. A few weeks down the line, life intensified and my sleep disappeared. Now, please note all of my life I have lived by the verse that God gives sleep to those that He loves. This lack of sleep was new, it was hard. It was not my idea of love. It was hard. My clarity, my memory card, my joy all seemed to be running on red. I am a big believer in the restorative power of sleep, but my sleep had lost its power and I was walking on the edge of a cliff.

So Hello 2023, the year that the Lord has made and I am excited about it. Except my excitement feels like no joy. It feels heavy. It needs a weekend of sleep and sunshine. During one of the visits, the doctor said perhaps we should consider an admission. But I hid behind having a family that needed me. I see you looking at me funny 🙂

Eventually the pressure was too much. The lack of sleep felt like a heavy burden plus it was spilling over to everything. I brought myself in for admission because it felt too much. Too big and I was so tired, physically and emotionally too. And our village far and wide loved on our family. The girls were so well taken care of.

The body is horrible at keeping secrets. I feel like I should say that again, just because you do not deal, doesn’t mean that you’ve healed. So in this season, I did an Adverse Childhood Experiences test, and my score was higher than most. And all of that trauma, needed to go. So I fell. My admission to sleep , ended up being space to grieve. I cried until my heart hurt. I journaled until my arm ached, I really should strive for ambidexterity. I spoke until my voice literally went. Once I started writing the unspeakable, my literal voice disappeared. No cold, no viral infection but the weight of trauma. My blood pressure was through the roof, every time the machine was cuffed on my bicep I held my breath. Sometimes as I revisited trauma I could literally feel my blood pressure rise, and the palpitations. Oh those were scary. My back was in knots, it felt as though I had been carrying bags of stones up many hills. My lower back felt as though labour was coming. My chest was tight because every emotion felt palpable. My feet and hands, well they quivered like leaves in the autumn.

What I thought would be a 3 day sleep retreat and then I could go back home, ended up being a two week soul searching expedition. After how long does it stop being considered a fall, and a full blown need to rest and unpack?

There are many lessons from the ground. There is a way rock bottom gives perspective. There is a way it simplifies things. There is a way that it forces you to truly see, hear and feel yourself. There is a way that running is not an option. There is also a way, that if you allow it, you are showered in love. Covered with care, and embraced by a peace that cannot be explained. And rock bottom is also a kind reminder that falling is not failing.

So maybe falling wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Maybe falling is what I needed, because standing, walking, running and crawling were taking their toll on my body.

Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;

~Isaiah 40:30

This text reminded me that I am not odd, or alone, that there are other youth or should I say young people who have grown tired and weary. Many others on the verge of a stumble err fall. So this falling this not just toddler experience, but it does knock the wind out of your lungs when you are older. There is a promise of hope though:

‘but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.’

I am still yet to walk and not be faint, but my word for this year is SOAR, and this is part of it all coming together.

Little did I know that I would fall again in a week. More on that in the next post.

Thank you for reading <3. If you feel that this story connected with you. Let me know.

To Be : The Place of Surrender

When I think of a season of being, I always come back here. There is a peace about this place, a sweet precious ambience where I just write to express myself, and to make Jesus known. As the seasons have shifted, I have moved to more commercial writing, written workbooks that have impacted hundreds of girls. I was always running on this timeline, wanting to have achieved so much especially after being a stay-at-home mum whose heart beat for many things, for a long time.

I have loved writing the books, facilitating programs, meeting hundreds of girls, preparing them for puberty, interacting with their mums, and seeing the seed grow in the hands of the Lord. As 2022 came to an end, I sensed a shift, but it was a shift without a concrete plan. What we could call a walk of faith. It seemed so familiar, reminded me of the season when we moved to Mombasa. We didn’t really have a concrete plan, but God unfolded it in His time.

Walking by faith needs a degree of inner silence for you to hear God’s voice amidst the noise. It also need you to have a tent mentality and heart posture in a world that is fuelled by an illusion of permanence and progress.

2023 has began with a mandatory silence in the refining fire , and the first thing that has been combusted is my lists and timelines. For a minute there, I felt lost. The flurry of the busy nature of my life had become a hiding place, a place where I sought solace. The hats that I wore, became labels of identity. When I sat for two weeks without them, I saw myself for who I am. What I struggled more with is how to just be. How to connect with the present moment, to live fully here and now. To not feel like I have to achieve anything in the future and be content with that. To feel content with a seeming lack of progress. To enjoy the ebbs and flows of life even when it feels like I am running on a treadmill. To take off the pressure from progress, and to enjoy and savour the grace in the present.

There in the stillness was such clarity, peace, hope and love. Glimpses of bountiful joy.

The path of surrender is one of obedience, even when it doesn’t fit in to the mould that we have imagined it to be. Just looking at the life of Jonah, reveals that God’s way is always better.

2023 is where I lay it down. You are all I am chasing now. This is my surrender. No lists, no timelines, no cemented plans, Just a heart surrendered in the hands of a loving Father.

I’d love to hear what God is teaching you, what your surrender looks like.

The Power of Kindness

The girls have an interesting take on chicken. Baby Ky likes to follow them, Ms Ky doesn’t like to eat them, while Ms k wants to learn more about them. Her most recent question is, “How do chicken breathe?” I have never wondered how Chicken breathe, and I don’t quite remember it being mentioned in school either. My answer was, ‘I don’t know, let’s google.’

Raising children with a search engine has its perks. It turns out that chicken don’t have a diaphragm like humans, instead they have a more complex respiratory system which includes a nose, throat, windpipe, certain bones, air sacs and lungs. Raising the girls has also given me insight on how literal and applicable they can be. Once they understand the meaning of a parable, for instance, they apply it simply. It doesn’t get choked up in past experience reviews or alternative theories. It is simple. It is truth. It is applicable.

While, there is a huge responsibility for us to test every word, there is also one for us to obey wholeheartedly. Obedience in the hands of the Father is beautiful and precious, and life changing. For the recipient, it leaves proof of God’s power.

“The king then asked him, “Is anyone still alive from Saul’s family? If so, I want to show God’s kindness to them.” ~ 2 Samuel 9:3

This verse blew me away. David’s desire and intentionality to show God’s kindness is so admirable. He did not leave it to chance but was proactive about it. There are all these quotes about how the world needs a little more kindness, and how we never truly know what people are facing behind closed doors and that our kind words can be what lifts them up. We need to be intentional about showing God’s kindness.

The very thing that stood out for me from 2 Samuel 9 is the transformational power of God’s kindness is. Mephibosheth, who was Jonathan’s son and Saul’s grandson ended up receiving a form of restitution. He was given all the property that once belonged to his grandfather and permanent place at the king’s table. The kindness literally changed his life. It didn’t matter that he was crippled in both feet and that this impacted his ability to move. The kindness located him.

God’s kindness literally changes lives. Leaves a mark, and leaves hope. Though the year has just started, I must testify that in 2023 I have seen such sweet kindness. The Lord’s kindness. May God’s kindness locate you. May you be obedient and show others God’s kindness.

To Be Loved

There is something absolutely sweet and precious about seeing someone who knows, I mean deeply knows, that they are loved.

I love watching Peter and the girlies, and their love for each other. It is a sweet, yet secure kind of love. One that leaves me missing daddy from time to time, but it so beautiful to behold.

A few nights ago, after a riveting story, and prayer, he told the girlies that he loved them. Ky responded with confidence and said ‘I know!’

‘How do you know that I love you?’ he asked.

Ky drew in a breath, opened her eyes and then she responded, in a way that conveyed it was an absolute no brainer.

‘You are my daddy!’

Four words; one statement that was enough to convey her knowledge and trust of his love. It blew me away. Her knowledge of His love Is based on who he is to her and not necessarily what he does for her, because she knows that what he does, he does out of love.

At the tail end of 2022, I had the amazing opportunity to speak at 2 teen camps. As a little girl, I loved teen camps, They helped me to know God more and also to see people who were slightly older than me loving Jesus and truly living for Him. One of the questions that I asked the teens was, ‘Do you truly believe that God is good?’ Some said ‘But-ofcourse’, some stuttered, and some said ‘it is hard to see it at the moment’.

As we progressed with our session we discovered that the real question was ‘Do you believe God loves you?’. It was heavy, and an eye opener because what we believe about God is based on who we believe Him to be.

That is deep. Also the understanding that He is not defined by our circumstances. He simply is who He is.

I know that I should have started this post with a hearty, Happy New Year. But the year started on a tough note. My current motto is I WILL see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

If you are like me, and your year is off to a jarring and confusing start, I would like to whisper this prayer for you and I.

I pray that we will not falter in our faith or doubt God’s love, heart and plans for us because He is our Father.

Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. ~Isaiah 64:8

In spite of the present circumstances may we never forget, that HE is GOOD and we are LOVED.

That is our confidence.

Have a blessed new year

❤

‘

A Foodie At Heart

As a little girl, I used to eat under a tree, due to food induced itis that overwhelmed me every time I saw food. It wasn’t an issue with timing because even breakfast was a struggle. Interestingly, this sleep took a short vacay when I was served my favorite meal at the time. I remember I disliked greens, the ‘they are good for you’ song did very little for me.

My younger self would probably be so shocked at how much I’ve evolved. How much my palate has grown. For a few years I used to take wheat grass to inspire my bowels to move. We all know that wheat grass tastes like desperation, because what else can drive you to drink some green water with floating strands? But it worked, and that was all that mattered.

My taste buds have acquainted themselves with adulting. I really like the greens now yes including jute mallow (read:mrenda), I like the taste of apple cider vinegar, kombucha, baobab, broccoli, beets, dill, chia, arrowroot, the list is long- oh, how we grow.

Food is more than just a feel good affair for your senses that leads to satisfaction. It is about purpose, I ask myself what the food is doing for my body and that is half the battle, the rest is swallowing, and some self belief that the food is good for me.

I watch baby K as she makes faces when she tastes foods for the first time, sometimes she cringes, other times her saliva is like a waterfall as she anticipates the next bite. While eating the foods that she loves, she will hold the bowl to make sure that you do not take away her food.

Some tastes take some time to grow on us, the lack of pleasant undertones doesn’t take away from the nutritional value of the food. There is a notion that the most nutritious foods taste the worst, as though the lack of appeal in taste is a pre-requisite to be a super food. Taste preference however, is subjective, and perhaps how a food is prepared influences the taste.

“Mama, what is your favourite food?”, miss K asked me a few days ago. I didn’t have an answer, as my cycle greatly influences my food preferences, and this week I just want greens, last week it was fries. My preferred source of nourishment, strength, and filling fluctuates each week, but my spirit man has one source, it is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.

It is easy to start a meal, and fail to finish it, for one reason or another. One thing I always strive to do is to finish my food. My prayer and hope is that I will have the same resolve to do the will of God, and finish it. And that sleep, boredom, distraction or whatever other form of itis will not keep me away from partaking.

When it comes to the will of God you do not get to serve yourself and choose the portion on your plate. You take what you are given and trust that He who created you, knows you intricately well, and has assigned you your portion and your cup, and made your lot secure.(Psalm 16:5)

How does your food taste right now? May your taste buds evolve and may you be nourished and strengthened for the journey ahead.

*

“My food,” said Jesus, ” is to do the will of him who send me and to finish his work.” ~ John 4:34

The Gazillionth Question

‘Can I eat this?’ that is the one question Baby KK asks herself every day. She wants to taste everything, especially books. The sound of paper, has her salivating and ready to slurp it up. Sometimes she will pause before putting it in her mouth, sort of waiting to see if you are going to take it away. Other times she dives right in, and your pages are spread with saliva.

Miss K and Ky ask (most times) before they do something that they are not so sure we’d be happy about. They do not eat books, thankfully, but from time to time, you’ll find that their curiosity overrides what they know.

Sometimes, it is a gray area, or something that looks like it will be so much fun. It can even be a great idea, just done in the wrong place. Can you imagine mud in the bathroom? While it is so much fun to play with mud and to jump in muddy puddles, it is best done outside.

I see myself in these little girls. In their mischief and joy, and love for the Lord, I see glimpses of the little girl I am within. As I watch them play together, sing out loud, create little DIY projects, ask the gazillionth question and lean in for a cuddle, I see them as God sees me.

They are children, who sometimes think they know more than they do, but they still need me to teach, guide and instruct them. When they are in unfamiliar circumstances, I feel them look to me, and hear them ask if it is okay for them to do certain things. A question begets another, and before you know it I have answered the gazillionth question.

Perhaps that is how life should always be, though I think I know, and I thought I knew how 2020 should have panned out, I need to sit down, ask questions, listen to the Lord’s instruction, and follow His teaching on the way that I should go. I should value His counsel and trust that He has got His eye on me at all times.

2020

The year (one of the many) of the Lord’s leading.

*

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
    I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. ~ Psalm 32:8

Caught In The Sand

Doubt, is darkness that sometimes masquerades as light, other times, it is a voice that shouts louder than the truth. It doesn’t always out rightly oppose the truth, it just pokes holes in the garment, and the wind starts to blow.

I went to the beach a few days ago, and the wind was really strong. I fixed my eyes on the waves, but the wind was distracting. I couldn’t quite see it, like you’d see the waves crash at your feet, but I could feel it. It was loud. I felt like I was in a tunnel, as it blew louder, it blew stronger and the fine particles of sand entered my eyes, ears, hair, eye lashes, and clothes. All as I tried to hold on to our kanga and empty sand buckets.

My senses were fixated on the wind, in the bustle of trying to keep the sand away, I lost sight of the waves. The beauty and allure of the waves was an afterthought, as I was caught in the sand.

That is what doubt does. It keeps you busy, it overwhelms your senses, keeps you too distracted to focus on the truth. It won’t come out and discredit the truth, it will ask subtle questions like, ‘Did God really say…’. That sounds familiar, right? It’s exactly how Eve was deceived.

Life circumstances will always interact with your senses. They may not always agree with what the Word says, they may poke holes on the garment of your convictions and you will begin to hear and feel the wind.

In the moments where you feel overwhelmed by the wind and the sand, remind yourself what you know to be true. Focus on the One who spoke the ocean to being, the One who tells the waves that they can only come this far, the Once who has power to silence the wind. Focus on Him, immerse yourself in His truth and watch the doubts fade away.

*

³⁶ While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” ³⁷ They were startled and frightened, thinking they saw a ghost. ³⁸ He said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? ³⁹ Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have.” ~Luke 24:36-39

Because He Said So

Conversations with toddlers are rarely linear. They are not void of twists, turns and repetition. You ask them how they are, and before you know it they are sharing what they ate for dinner, what their mama does and ’embarrassing’ family moments. Something like when their sibling farted without saying excuse me, and this ends with one ended roaring laughter. You laugh, because their laughter is hilarious, and, laughter likes company.

Parents are highly esteemed in toddler’s minds. Long before they start seeking to understand the reasoning behind their every move and instruction, they believe wholeheartedly. They believe that if mummy or daddy said it, then it is true.

Their parents shape their world views. When you say something contrary to what mama and daddy have said, they will respond with a ‘But, you know my mummy said’ and then proceed to educate you on the truth according to mummy.

What a great responsibility parents have, especially because children are holding on to their words and treasuring them in their hearts. A responsibility to speak truth, to speak kindly, because what they say forms the foundation of their children’s thinking.

Children believe what you say, because they trust you and know that you love them.

Reading the bible reveals what God says about us. He speaks boldly and lovingly, and proclaims His love for us as a father. Do we as His children listen out for His voice and cling on to His words? Or do you struggle to hear the truth amidst the noise of your surroundings? Do you walk in to situations saying, ‘But my father in heaven said….’ or do you cower in fear and quake in your boots when Goliath taunts you.

Because He said so. That is the reason we believe. Our confidence comes from who we are in Him.

Because He said so we believe it. He is a man of His word.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is that we are! ~ 1 John 3:1a

Bonus track:

I Feel You

Under every tough skinned girl is a soft underbelly.

It is easy to portray a tough exterior, especially because you may not want people to walk all over you. So you toughen up, but deep within, when the world quietens down, you feel the beauty, murkiness and mixed nature of your feelings. You feel big emotions, small emotions and mixed emotions.

I see this with my girls. They have different personalities and an illusion of crocs skin, but their underbelly is the same. Soft, malleable and sensitive. They’ll say things like ‘I’m a big girl, I won’t get hurt. Or, ‘Even if I fall down, I won’t cry’

When they hit the ground, it is a whole different story. When they are aggrieved, the tears flow, and then the choir begins.

When one hears her sister crying, she cries as well. Even louder than the aggrieved party, and then the other one starts crying. Before I know it, I have a symphony, more like a brassy, wail. I think their voices complement each other and one day we will have a beautiful trio .

The tears say, I see you, I feel you and I wish I could make it better. That is the essence of our faith, the spine of our sisterhood. You don’t have to go through it to feel it. Our tough exterior shouldn’t neutralize our empathy. It shouldn’t blind us from the reality of pain. Our soft underbelly should make us sensitive to the voice of the Lord, sensitive to the hearts of those around us. Our ability to feel, should drive us to our knees where we can truly uphold each other,and present our grievances and situations to the Lord.

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. ~ Romans 12:15

Grayscale

I always knew God was big. This week I was reminded just how magnificent He is as I watched a 4K video of Mars.

Yes, I know, I’ve gone a little too far, because Earth is beautiful, and it is filled with reminders of how great our God is. A trip to the ocean usually helps reset my outlook. But, this virtual tour of Mars blew me away. The creation story took on a new meaning, I had a deeper understanding of God’s magnificence. I stood, and continue to stand in awe of God.

As I watched it I kept thinking, the Lord who created the world cares deeply about me. The one who spoke Mars and Earth in to being, knitted me in my mama’s womb. And, He has a beautiful plan for my life.

I was floored.

My fixation on my miniscule worries that have no eternal value are a distraction. They occupy spaces in my mind that should be magnifying the Lord. They keep me thinking when I should be worshipping. They amplify the voice of reason while muffling the One of the Most High. They make Him seem too small in my eyes.

Too small.

This is the real tragedy. That I could go through my days distracted and miss out on the fullness of the purpose of He who placed me here.

I see little reminder of this in my day. I’ve been fascinated by Ky’s role play sessions. I watch her play with her teddies and mimic their voices. It is entertaining and insightful, it reveals what she thinks about life.

A few days ago I heard her telling her teddies that her husband had gone to work and he’d be back to go the gym later. Her ‘husband’ sounds just like her daddy, Peter. Her experience of being in our home is shaping how she sees the world.

Life’s experiences can be like an Instagram filter on the way you see God. Our pain and disappointment can dim the brightness on our perception of Him. They rob Him of the contrast of His kindness and sometimes all we see is the grayscale of pain and agony.

Yet He is still God. And He is still good.

Some seasons in life can be harsh, through the tears it may be hard to see God as He really is. I pray that through the mountains and valleys we will see our God for who He is. That His light will always illuminate the darkness we may face. That His hand will always be swift to save, and that we will find sweet comfort in His arms. And see Him as He is. Magnificent.

Play-Schooled by My Daughter

We were together but apart.

Though we inhaled each other’s carbon dioxide we were not bonding as much as we should be. We shared the same space, but our minds were worlds apart. And the dissatisfaction begun to brew.

Proximity doesn’t always equals connection.

This is a lesson that I learned earlier on in the work-from-home period. Now that our babies are home for a lot longer, it is more evident that we need to be deliberate about spending time together connecting as we do things that they enjoy.

A few days ago, Miss K said to me, “Mama, today you haven’t even played with me.” I looked at her a little confused because, I was sure that my crawling on the floor and roaring like a little lion ought to be classified as play. It was playful, but, on that given day, she had a different idea on what our meaningful play time should look like.

I’ve been reading a book on babies and their milestones, and the power of play therein. One of the things that I’ve gleaned from it is that we should have a Golden hour of meaningful play for each child. I have three children, three hours of play back to back feels quite daunting. Though, I’m learning to break it into chunks and spread it through the day. Some times, a cuddle session is like a balm to the soul, other times, it is playing the girl’s makeshift tent or visiting their restaurant for every meal.

In Ecclesiastes we read that there is a time for everything. Now that our babies have lots of time as they are home, we need to make time for meaningful play. Time to instruct our children in the ways of the Lord. Time to teach them the word, and to show them how to apply what we learn.

This morning, the girls woke me up saying, “Mama, we want to be like Daniel. We want to pray 3 times a day.” Their resolve had them scooting next to the windows as they faced the East praying. I mentioned to Peter, imagine what would happen if the army of children prayed that diligently. If prayer was a prioritized part of their lives.

I don’t always get it right. Sometimes I feel like the hours in the day are not sufficient . Sometimes I am overwhelmed by my own thoughts and realities. But, I take great comfort in the Lord, I am encouraged that His mercies are new every morning. He remains faithful even when I falter.

Perhaps, all that is needed is a willing heart, and a sensitive spirit to discern when the opportunity presents itself. Ultimately, there is grace, strength and help available.

Because you are my help,
    I sing in the shadow of your wings.
I cling to you;
    your right hand upholds me.

~Psalm 63:7-8 NIV

The Trust Fall

I trust gravity, but I hate trust falls.

The dynamics of aligning my body and taking a leap of faith in to the arms of people beneath me, hoping for dear life that they will catch me is unnerving. The exhilaration faded in my teens, now at one of my heaviest weights I am of the school of thought that we can trust each other without falling.

My girls do not share my sentiments. They absolutely love doing trust falls. During our devotion on trust, I introduced them to the concept and once they were sure that I had their backs they got falling. And they fell smiling.

Miss Ky run to me beaming, ‘Mama, again. Let’s do it again, this time, I want to fall lower.” Miss K, reiterated excitedly, “Mama, me too!” I watched them fall in to my arms for fun. They were so sure that mama would catch them.

Perhaps a childlike nature is needed to enjoy trust falls.

My first trust fall was all fun and games, I was a teenager, and I weighed about 50 Kgs. My team mates hands were interlocked into a sturdy net, something that reminded me of a woven hammock. Gentle and secure. My second trust fall felt like crash landing in a desert. It was abrupt, bumpy, and it brought me very close to the dust of the earth. I was sweating from fright.

As I’ve grown older , my detest has increased. Life, especially this year, has felt like a series of trust falls from higher platforms. I’ve felt fear. I’ve tasted saline from my eyes, I have racked my mind in worry, and I have cried out in despair.

I’ve not known the words to use to describe this season. I know that God is good, and that He can be trusted, but sometimes when I feel thrust in the air and at the mercy of gravity, there peace evaporates.

The lyrics of Palm of Your Hand have been a huge comfort. My resolve is to :

So I will stop and breathe
Rest here in Your goodness
I know You won’t leave
It’s my confidence (Oh, it’s my confidence)

I know that the hand that will catch me is gentle, strong and secure.

Here I am in the palm of Your hand
Nothing can take me away
Nothing can take me away

The Lord is not intimidated by my ‘weight’ or my fears. His love is enough and His palm is secure.

There’s not a height, or a depth
Not a lie inside my head
Not a fear or offense
Nothing can take me away

I don’t know what the rest of 2020 holds, but I know who holds me, and nothing can take me away.

That is my confidence.

5 Ways You Can Help Your Child Work Through Their Emotions (COVID-19)

If you got 100 shillings for every time you heard the words ‘mental health’ in this season what would you do with it? We are constantly reminded that this period is leaving a lasting impression in our minds and hearts. Children are not exempt. They too are feeling the reality. Different emotions are bubbling within, and they may not be able to paint a clear picture of their rainbow of emotions.

You may catch glimpses of it in their behavior, in sudden outbursts, in a desire to be your shadow at all times, in moments of song and dance, in their sleep patterns, and the adventures of their imagination.

If there was a time that parents needed to be keen and present, it is now. In the midst of the struggles that we may be facing, remember that these little ones entrusted to us cannot fully comprehend what it is going on. They need our help, our answers, our love, more than anything they need our presence – both physical and mental.

Children are smarter than we give them credit for. They see the unseen, and feel what is not mentioned. They may not know how to read, but they may be able to connect the dots.

A week cannot go by without my girls mentioning Covid-19 and what they miss about life BC (Before Corona). They are feeling the change and they miss human interaction with ‘the village’.

A few days ago, sweet Ky came and told me, “Mama, I am feeling sad. I don’t know why I’m feeling sad.” She has been vocal about what she misses, and her desire for Corona to be gone forever. On this particular day, her emotions felt big, and tears flowed. Covid-19 is a tiny virus but children are feeling its effects in a big way.

As a parent you need to:

1. Cut them some slack. It is stressful all around. Allow them to express themselves, their joys, hopes, dreams and frustrations. Feelings of sadness do not make them ungrateful.

2) Remind your children : It is okay to feel your feelings, but you do not have camp there.

Now is not the time to stifle emotions, because they will become a ticking time bomb. Allow them to feel the emotions and show them that it is possible not to be consumed by the emotions.

3) Talk and listen

A simple conversation can get honest answers flowing if you are asking questions that allow them to express their hearts. Allow them to deliver the truth through the medium they prefer, it might be a long off-key song about Corona and kindergarten friendships, or a mural of ‘Corona through the eyes of a toddler’, you know the type that you have to squint and engage your imagination to understand.

Here are a few conversation starters and activities you can consider referring to as you talk.

• What do you miss doing? What’s your favorite memory of doing it?
• Who would you like to have a play date with? What would you do at the play date? (Make a play date wish list to be reviewed later)
• Where do you miss going? Who would you go with? What would you do there? What would you wear? (Write a checklist and plan to do them after Corona)
• What have you enjoyed during this quarantine period? (Write a list and see if you can do it again)
• What makes you smile? What makes you laugh? (Take a picture smiling together)
• What makes you sad? What makes you feel like crying?
• What are you grateful for? (Make a thank you list you can both refer to when they feel overwhelmed)
• What would you like to do with mummy/daddy more during this time? Whats your favorite part of the day? (Capture these times and make memories)
• What do you love to do? What do you want to do when you grow up? ( Have a role play game including this)

Actively listen to your child and apply what you hear. You may not be able to visit their friends, but you can call them, make a DIY gift for them, or do an activity together online.

4) Prioritize an uninterrupted time slot with your children to play with them, pray for them and offer physical reassurance. Hold them, hug them, let them know that they are loved, and that this too shall pass.

5) Teach them how to respond to times of crisis

In life there will always be things that can trigger anxious thoughts. As much as you try shield them, show them how to respond to seasons of difficulty.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ~ Phil 4:6 NIV

The One Who Sees Me

I sat by the bed, sorting laundry, and floating in my thoughts. Baby K lay on her play mat swatting her dangling toys amidst squeals of joy. A few minutes passes before she realized that no one was besides her. She begun to cry out, it was a different cry, a panicked cry that asked, ‘”Where is everyone?”

I spoke up and said, “I am here, I have been watching over you, even when you couldn’t see me.” Immediately I uttered those words, I knew that I too needed to hear those words.

My failure to see the Lord does not signify his absence.

Some seasons in life can seem very quiet, almost lonely, and it may seem like the Lord has walked away from you. Your prayers turn in to cries, asking the Lord why He has forgotten you, asking where He is when your walls are crumbling down. Asking where He is when chaos is the order of the day.

Even in the stillness and chaos He remains God. The present darkness does not diminish His light, The battle you face, does not undermine His power. He is still God.

In Genesis 16, Hagar was on the run. She had despised her mistress, Sarah, after conceiving a child with Sarah’s husband, Abraham. Sarah was vexed that her servant could openly treat her badly, and after a consultation with her husband, she dealt with the matter.

She dealt with Hagar in an unfair manner and it sent Hagar packing and running off in to the wilderness. Hagar had an encounter with an angel of the Lord. Upon inquiry, Hagar told the angel that she was fleeing from her mistress. The angel of the Lord, instructed her to go back and submit to Sarah. He told her that the Lord would increase her descendants so much that they would be too many to count. He instructed her, gave her a promise and gave her hope.

The angel of the Lord also spoke to her further regarding her offspring and instructed that he should be named Ishmael because the Lord had heard her misery. The angel of the Lord shed light on Ishamel’s personality, this knowledge would also play a role as she parented him.

Hagar was comforted. This encounter changed something within her. It gave her direction, wisdom and grace for the days to come. Verse thirteen says, “ She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.”

How beautiful it is to see the One who sees you. The One who sets you back on track and works all things out for your good.

As you sojourn on this earth, I pray that you will encounter – in a vivid manner- the One who sees you.

Captivated By The Screen: 10 Tips For Navigating Screen Time For Children in the Covid-19 Season

Parenting has evolved. It still entails getting your child safely to adulthood, while equipping them for the same, but the hurdles along the way have diversified.

When we were little, the issue of screen time was an afterthought. We were at the mercy of our VHS collections and the T.V station broadcast schedule for the day. We’d refer to the newspaper, to tell us what was coming when. If you didn’t have access to a newspaper, you’d have to play it by ear.

Nostalgia.

Now, the options are at your fingertips. A few swipes of your fingers can take you on a tour of all the content that is available for your consumption.

A few weeks ago, during an Instagram Live with Wambui Nguru of Red Letter KE, we talked about cartoons and children. A few people asked me to share more on screen time especially in this season.

There are guidelines regarding screen time, but the ideal situation is not always our present situation. Working from home, being a home-school teacher, running your home, while keeping children busy without letting them go outside to play with their friends may be a hard balance to maintain. It may be harder to not offer screen time.

Children’s lives have been interrupted. They are also dealing with their feelings of loss and uncertainty in this season. When you are scared, you tend to gravitate towards that which you know will comfort you. The use of screen time as a comfort has definitely increased in this season.

I’d like to share other guidelines that you may consider when making decisions about screen time. When we talk about screens we mean the use of phones, tablets, T.Vs and laptops.

The guidelines are premised on Psalm 101:3a

The ESV version says ‘I will not set before my eyes anything that is worthless.’ While the NLT version says, ‘I will refuse to look at anything vile and vulgar.’

a) Define ‘Worthless and Vile‘

You need to define what worthless and vile mean to us as a family. And then list how these definitions may be manifest in things your children interact with during screen time.

b) Establish Your Family Values

What are the things that you stand for as a family? What do you hope to teach your children. What is your truth?

Write down your values as a family and be as specific as you’d like. Identify content that you would be interested in, this list may not be very long at the beginning as you may find other things that interest you along the way. It acts as a guide in your search for wholesome content.

c) Identify Conflicts of Interest

Based on your truths, there are themes or words that may go against key values that you are teaching. For example, during your family devotions, you may teach your children that ‘our help comes from God’. If there is a cartoon that teaches that we can call out to other mediums for help, then you need to clarify exactly what you believe in. And perhaps consider reducing the exposure to confusing messages.

d) Evaluate Content

Acquaint yourself with the content that they are consuming. Evaluate the themes and language used, and see if they are a right fit in your home.

Many cartoons are from different cultures where some words may have a different meaning. Some cartoons use the word ‘Silly’ often, while it may be all fun and games in the cartoon, you may not be too keen to hear your refer to their grandma as silly.

e) Explain to Your Children Your Why

You can’t be everywhere with your child at every time, but you can teach them to make the right decision. Explain to them why you do not watch certain things and themes, train them to identify these themes and have a plan of action when they find them.

The song below has been helpful in teaching our girls why we avoid certain themes.

f) Train Those Around Them

It takes a village to raise a child. You may not always be able to spend time with your child, train those around them, the village, to be sensitive to the things that you are sensitive to.

g) Stay Out of Deep Waters

If you don’t want to drown, get out of the water. The truth is that children can drown in a few liters of water. Stay in the safe zone. Pre-watch content if you can. Get apps that do not have in-built ads as these can take you down a rabbit hole.

A special note on phones, not everyones phone is as sanitary as yours. While yours may be free of vile content, they may stumble on it on someone else’s phone. Teach them that phones are personal property, and that they should ask before going through them. Looking for games and apps may expose them to more than they need to see.

h) Be Keen

Listen and observe. Spend time talking to your children, playing with them and listening to how they interact with others even in their imaginative play. If there are patterns or nightmares and outbursts that concern you, calmly investigate and address them.

i) Trust the Voice

If you have a bad feeling about exposure on screen time, listen to it. Sometimes we can’t quite put our finger on something, but there is a reason that it makes you feel unsettled.

j) Have an Open Door Policy

Let children have screen time in an open place where you can see and hear what they are interacting with. If you have given your children a phone, let them know that you have the right to check on the phones.

A bonus point:

k) Find Alternatives

There is some really good content out there. As you limit watching of some cartoons, be sure to find some alternatives. If you need a few suggestions, you can send me an email via bibi2bee@gmail.com and I can share some of the ones we watch.

Also, find indoor and outdoor activities that you can do during this time. Jump in when you can, and enjoy some family bonding time.

*

Ultimately, I pray that the Lord will give us His wisdom as we raise our children. May He protect them and help them as they grow.

A Faith That Makes Sense

There’s a beautiful, subtle yet strong, inquisitive nature that children have. They believe, but they also ask ‘why?’ quite often. As a little girl, the answer to some of my questions were answered by ‘because I said so’. At the time it was valid, and then I grew up and formulated my own thoughts on the same.

Miss K loves Bible time. She often tries to connect the dots, and build on what she has previously learned. There are times that she stares at me in bewilderment. Case in point, a few weeks ago we read the story about Jesus leaving the ninety-nine sheep to look for the one that was lost. Right after we finished she asked me, “Mama, how is Jesus both the shepherd and the lamb?” This explanation took us down a rabbit hole maze. We started with a shepherd and a lamb and went back to heaven. One of the questions she asked also had me confused, because I had never thought about it like that. I told her that I’d have to confirm and get back to her. She giggled and said, “Let me guess, you are going to ask Jesus.” I smiled and said, “Yes, I’ll ask the Holy Spirit.”

Convergence conflict.

What happens when two aspects of your faith come together but you can’t reconcile them? Do you question both, or accept one aspect instead of the other one?

One thing that this Covid-19 season has brought up is questions. Questions about life. Questions about faith. Questions about race. Questions about some of the things we have believed to be true but are now quaking at their foundations.

There are many people having a crisis of faith. Asking questions that cannot be answered by ‘because I said so’.

The best part of our faith is that we have a Helper, Comforter, Spirit of Wisdom and Counselor who can guide us to all truth. The Holy Spirit brings clarity in a way that only He can.

The pace of my quiet time has slowed down. I’m using Miss K’s lens as I interact with the Word. I am asking the questions “How does this fit in to what I know? What needs to go?” It doesn’t mean that I always leave with answer on the spot, but I have peace as I seek them.

I pray that as we seek we will find peace in the Lord. That as He speaks, we will move in obedience, swift obedience. That we will not trivialize the request, may it be a call, or a prayer, or giving in one way or another. That we be willing to obey He who sees all and knows all, without needing to clarify with our eyes. Ultimately, that the move of the Lord will be seen as, we, His hands and feet, do that which He instructs.

She Caught A Fish

The girls were a bit miffed that I threw away their fishing rods. In my defence, they were twigs, and I had no idea that they were going to be used as fishing rods.

A few days ago, the girls decided to make new fishing rods to use during their time outside. Their tools were my knitting yarn -that now couldn’t possibly be enough for a bootie because all their crafts include a chunk of mamas yarn- and an old piece of wood from their chairs.

Let me tell you about the pond downstairs, it has been there for 7 years, we can count the number of times that we’ve actually seen the fish, though since hubby adopted them during this quarantine period, we see their mouths as they chomp the bread he throws in.

Peter was a team player, and he helped the girls make the rods by tying yarn on the wooden handle, and then tying some bread at the end of the string. As they walked out, I gave Peter an ‘all-the-best’ typa wink as I mentioned that I didn’t think that they will be successful. Ky shouted from the stair well and said, ‘Mama, I’m going to catch a fish.’ Her conviction was palpable.

Miss K called dibs and had the first go, she threw her rod in to the water as as Peter stood behind her, and nothing happened so she went to ride her bike. Ky threw in her rod, and then she actually caught a fish. A big fish. It took her by surprise, she was half shaking, and smiling as she pulled up the string but not quite sure what to do next.

She threw the fish back in, and gleefully went to ride her bike. Miss K cast her rod again, and didn’t catch a fish. She complained that Ky spooked the fish and they were now suspicious. Peter reassured her that they’d go down again after a few days and try fishing again.

As I reflected that night, I learned a few lessons from the fishing expedition:

a) Get out of their way

Just because I don’t think that something will work, doesn’t mean that it won’t. Within caution, I should let the girlies try what they want, and allow them to learn from the experience.

b) Hold on to your vision

Not every one sees it like you do. Don’t let their disapproval dissuade you. Give it a try, after all you miss 100% of the chances that you do not take.

c) Have faith and speak in faith

I read a beautiful quote this week that said ‘ Faith is not finished, until it is spoken’ ~David Ibiyeomie

Speak those things that aren’t as though they were. Walk in faith.

d) Cast your rod in to the water

Go where you need to be to catch the fish. Sit by the water, and then cast your rod or net. Be expectant.

e) Catch those fish

The fish may not come as quickly, in fact you may feel like Miss K did, discouraged and upset. May the disappointment not crush your spirit to a point that you give up on fishing.

John 21 tells a story of Peter and the disciples on an all nighter fishing expedition. The sun rays at dawn illuminated on their empty nets, they saw that they hadn’t caught anything, not even a small fish. A man, who they did not know was Jesus at the time, advised them to throw in their nets on the right side of the boat. He added that they would find some fish there.

Immediately they cast the net in to the water, they caught a school of large fish. When they took an account of their harvest they discovered that they had caught 153 large fish, and their net was not torn.

It may have been a rough night, or series of nights, but please do not give up on fishing. Ask the Lord to show you the right side of the boat, cast your net there even though it doesn’t make sense, and prepare for a harvest.

May our nets hold, as our hearts cling on to the Lord.

Yikes! (I Feel Like) I’m Drowning

When I was 6-years-old I almost drowned in the ocean. I remember the bitter taste of fear, and how it lingered in my mouth. The feeling of choking on water and wondering when the wave would pass. The sharp pain in my nose that sent tears to my eyes. The result was a resolve to stay close to the beach at all times. It took a long time before I could swim in the ocean, thankfully, we lived in the city, so I wasn’t required to visit the ocean often.

A few weeks ago I saw a similar look of fear in baby KK’s face as she took her evening bath. Her flutter kicks caused the water to move like a tsunami in the bath and it startled her. She looked up, shot out her hand and grabbed my spaghetti strap, (super hand-eye coordination by the way) and then let out a panicky high pitched cry. One that said, ‘Yo!! I think I am drowning here’.

I told her that I was there and I had got her safely in my hands. She didn’t look convinced as the ripples of water clapped on her feet. She wanted out, so much for the warmth, and toys in the water. The duck and fish could have the bath all to themselves, she just wanted some comfort.

It was just a bath, but it felt like being in the deep blue sea. As I reflected, I realized that she didn’t have a reason not to trust me, I was right there, and I was holding her. But how she felt in the water, as her bum skid on the bath tub floor and the water ebbed and flowed, made her afraid.

Sometimes we feel afraid. The situation might be like taking a bath in the but from where we are sitting we feel as though we are spinning in the Bermuda triangle and being swallowed alive by the ocean. In the raging waters, joy, faith and hope begin to fade away.

God reminded me that even in seasons when we feel afraid, we can trust Him. We can trust His track record. The fact that we are still standing is a testimony of His loving kindness. The waters may not feel gentle, kind, or like a loving embrace, but even in the midst of the storm, we can cling to Him.

Covid-19 has thrown several spanners into the works, heck, the whole toolbox, but our days, purpose’ and lives remain secure in His hands. His promises still stand.

My declaration in this season is drawn from the song Promises by Joe L Barnes and Naomi Raine.

Though the storms may come and the winds may blow
I’ll remain steadfast
And let my heart learn, when You speak a word
It will come to pass

Great is Your faithfulness to me
Great is Your faithfulness to me
From the rising sun to the setting same, I will praise Your name
Great is Your faithfulness to me

I put my faith in Jesus
My anchor to the ground
My hope and firm foundation
He’ll never let me down

If you want to talk or pray together, feel free to drop me a line via bibi2bee@gmail.com

🙂

Newborn Hazing During Covid-19 Season: 10 ways I’m Coping

It takes a village to raise a child, but what happens when the ‘village’ is observing social distance? Motherhood in this Rona season is unprecedented, it is revealing how little is within our control.

Who would have thought that a virus would cause us to think twice, and carefully re-define normal? That it would magnify the small things, because they really are the big things in life.

A few weeks ago, the Lord added to our number and baby KK was born. She has been a joy bringer in this season. Though she’s our third born, it has almost felt like having a baby for the first time. I’ve been learning a new way of motherhood, one with limited movement and social interaction. I’ve become more cautious, and conscious of the worry and anxiety that tries to make room in my heart. The emotional, social, financial effects of Rona are hitting home, they are hard to ignore.

Some comfort has come from knowing that KK doesn’t know an alternative reality. She has no clue what she is missing out on, so as her mama, my role is show up each day, feed her, love her, play with her, pray for her and try to find joy and peace in this season.

I never thought I could be okay being home all day everyday. I love my home and family, but I enjoyed leaving the house before Covid-19. Thankfully the walls have stopped caving in, in fact if anything, I now struggle to venture out. Here’s how I’m navigating this season with a newborn (I’ll talk about her sisters in another post):

1. Giving thanks

Gratitude is a balm to the soul. It has a way of cleansing your vision, and re-aligning your attitude.

I am being intentional about giving thanks. Circumstances may not be ideal on all fronts, but I still have so much to be grateful for.

2. Re-defining self care

During this time, I’ve had to re-define self care and make room for it in my every day life. My self care routine previously consisted of outdoor activities, it has now been replaced by indoor activities such as baking, cooking, coloring, journaling, working out, de-cluttering and silence. Yes, sweet silence.

I’m chasing sunshine now more than ever, and resisting the urge to sit with drawn blinds. The rainy season has revealed that I wouldn’t do too well in winter. Soaking up the sun is an important part of my self care routine.

3.Being gracious

At the beginning of the social distancing, I wanted life to continue as usual, but a few days in, I realized the cost of ‘normal’ was too high to bear. With our help social distancing, I pursued the role of Super woman. Hubby would tell me to take it easy but my brain struggled to chill. Until my back humbled me. One day I had a little meeting with myself and redefined normal. A normal that consisted of grace, a normal that gave me room to be kind to myself, a normal that maintained joy. A normal that understood that these are not normal times, a normal that allowed me to heal from surgery and to enjoy being a mummy and wife.

4. Maintaining social interaction (From a distance)

I had a refreshing conversation with a friend this morning. We talked about everything from insects, to milestones, to sleep regression, to CVs and cover letters, and to life in general. It was a cocktail that left me feeling encouraged.

I am making an effort to reach out to people and talk to them and pray with them. I miss coffee dates and play dates, but given the circumstances, this is working.

5. Asking for help

I struggle with this one, but I have an ‘in case of emergency’ protocol in my mind. I know that despite the distance, I shouldn’t suffer alone. Postpartum depression is real, and I would really like not to experience it this time.

6. Making memories

Babies grow so fast. You spend the first couple of weeks wondering when it will get better, then it does, but you never get the time back. I’m freezing moments by taking pictures and videos. I’m holding baby KK, gazing in to her gorgeous eyes, smelling her hair, taking her in and enjoying moments with her. I’m also writing letters to her in her journal, with prayers I’ve made for her and the sweet things that happen. These pictures, videos and letters will serve as a reminder of God’s faithfulness in the years to come.

7. Putting my trust in God

A few weeks after I gave birth, a lady told me that she felt pity for me as this is not the best to have a child. As I reflected the Lord reminded me I can trust Him. He is the One who holds our future in His hands. He knows us, our hearts, and He knows our babies. He knew them and their futures even as He knit them in our wombs. He knew that they’d be born at a time such as this. He knew that they would be a generation that would live to see His goodness and faithfulness in their lifetime.

8. Amplifying truth

I stopped actively pursuing news pertaining to Covid-19. After evenings of increased anxiety after a daily briefing, I chose joy, and I’ve felt it trickling in. I am pursuing truth and positive things. I am listening to more things that make happy, thinking about the things that I can change and control, and praying about those beyond my scope.

9. Acknowledging my feelings

Some days are hard. Between the valleys of motherhood and the realities of life, it can be hard to feel jolly all day long. I’ve learned to acknowledge my feelings, feel them and then speak the truth that I know. I cling on to it and declare my total dependence on God.

10. Protecting myself

We still have to leave from time to time, as we go to the clinic. I am minimizing movement and taking pre-cautions when I have to leave wearing my mask, walking with a spirit spray to disinfect surfaces, and maintaining social distance. I’m trying to boost my immunity through food, exercise and avoiding stress.

I pray that this season passes soon. It is hard, but we continue to look to the Lord who sustains us.

Sustain me, my God, according to your promise, and I will live;
    do not let my hopes be dashed. ~ Psalm 119:116 (NLT)

If you would like someone to talk to or pray with you, drop me a line via bibi2bee@gmail.com

🙂

Introducing Your Children To Jesus (Practical Tips)

‘Help me to get out of their way’, I prayed, as I concluded my quiet time. It dawned on me that I was standing in the way of my children.

Jesus said let the little children come to me. It’s quite interesting that the disciples, who were the people closest to Jesus, stood in the way of the little children getting to Jesus. These were Jesus’ best friends, the ones who broke bread with him, the ones privileged enough to get the ‘behind the scenes’ of the parables. They communed with our Lord, but missed out on this simple fact, that they should let the children come to Jesus.

As parents, it is possible to make it harder for our children to get to know Jesus. Sometimes we feel like they are too young, or the word of God is too complex, yet all that we asked to do is to make a way for them to get to spend time with Jesus.

Here are some practical ways that we can draw our children to Jesus feet.

1. Story time

Psalm 78:4 New International Version (NIV)

⁴ We will not hide them from their descendants;
    we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord,
    his power, and the wonders he has done.

Children love stories, and our Lord and saviour, Jesus used stories to connect with those around him. He was a story teller. Tell them the stories of Jesus, let them see God personified. Use different mediums to tell the stories, read from the bible, a small book, act it out, incorporate puppets and toys, or watch a bible story e.g on Saddleback kids or Veggie tales. At the end of every story ask them what they’ve learned from the stories, and talk about the ways that you can apply the lessons in your everyday lives.

2. Sing songs to the Lord

Psalm 104:33 New Living Translation (NLT)

³³ I will sing to the Lord as long as I live.
    I will praise my God to my last breath!

As you teach your little ones nursery rhymes, teach them to sing songs to Jesus. Cultivate a lifestyle of praise, sing songs everyday, let praise become a norm in their lives, and not just a once-a-week event. Expand their library of songs, show them other children who worship the Lord through song. Some channels you can consider watching are: Psalty, Hillsong Kids, Watoto Children’s choir, and Lifetree Kids.

Children learn best from emulation. Let them see you worship. Fill your home with songs of praise and worship. Invite them to praise and worship the Lord with you. Let praise and worship be their default setting.

3. Set a routine

Deuteronomy 11:19 King James Version (KJV)

¹⁹ And ye shall teach them your children, speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.

Be intentional about presenting your children to Jesus. Do not leave it to chance, prioritize it as you do other things that are important to you. The verse above gives suggestions on how often we should speak to our children about the laws, principles and stories of our faith.

4. Teach them how to pray

Colossians 4:2 New Living Translation (NLT)

² Devote yourselves to prayer with an alert mind and a thankful heart.

Teach your children how to pray. Teach them the Lord’s prayer and the grace, take it a step further and teach it to them in another language. Show them that prayer can be a lifestyle, allow them to see and hear you pray.

Let thanksgiving be at the heart of your prayers. Show them how to depend on the Lord. When you face challenges, let prayer be the first place you turn, followed by the other actions. Encourage them to thank the Lord daily, and to put their trust in Him.

5. Teach them memory verses

Psalm 119:11 New International Version (NIV)

¹¹ I have hidden your word in my heart
    that I might not sin against you.

Encourage them to hide the word of God in their hearts. Incorporate actions to help them remember the verses. Choose a verse and have a family challenge, so that they can also see you work to memorize the verses.

6. Pray for them

Partner with the Lord as you lead your children to Him. Ask Him for wisdom on how to teach your children. After all He knows all the intricate parts of your child’s heart. Pray that the seed that you plant will fall on good ground. Ask the Lord to help them long to love Him.

May the Lord bless you as you raise your children. I’d love to hear your testimonies and pray with you. If you’d like to share, please drop me a line via bibi2bee@gmail.com

🙂

When Life Slows You Down

A few years ago, I had a rebirth. The Endometriosis symptoms that had plagued my life for years, finally begun to fade away. All of a sudden I had energy coursing through my veins, I could zip and button my jeans, and I could dream again. One day, I made a little vow to myself to reclaim what I had lost. To enjoy what was being restored, what the small locust, big locust and army of locusts had stolen (Joel 2:25).

I have enjoyed having more good days than bad days, being able to do more than one thing a day and not have to pay for it over the span of a week. I started 2019 with Formula One paced dreams, only to encounter serious speed bumps, some that had me seating in the bleachers spectating from the sidelines.

After inching across life’s track for so long and finally regaining your speed, being forced to go slow down can be very frustrating. Especially when you feel like nothing can and should hold you down.

Last week I got a clean bill of health for the first time in months and it was wonderful. I was ready to sprint in to the finish line of the year. Five days in to my celebration, I found out I sprained my achilles tendon. I’ve concluded that God is slowing me down a little, and I think that for the first time in 2019, I have accepted the pace of the season.

Reading through Paul’s journey in Acts reminded me that life is not always as it seems. Sometimes we make fast-paced, clear and concise plans, but then God instructs us to wait, or to take the longer route. This causes fluctuation in our anticipation and excitement, and it can really feel like a wet blanket especially after a season of planning. As I’ve journeyed with Paul two things have stood out: the seasons of waiting are for our preservation and/or preparation. They may lengthen the journey but we know that God remains our constant.

Here’s to enjoying the slower lane and being ready for the fast lane, when it is time.

We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps. ~ Proverbs 16:9 NLT

The Thing About Love

My head is pounding but my heart is full. It’s been a long day. When I woke up this morning I had a forecast of calmness and predictability, my Mondays tend to be slow. That was until I read my whatsapp messages, and I knew that my itinerary had to change. I had prayed that the Lord would order my steps, and that He did. He ordered them out of the house and to where I needed to be.

I’m a planner, I like to think ahead and know what to expect, it is a comfort zone but life doesn’t work like that. It hurls curve balls your way and you have to adjust. Life is about trust, and trust feels a lot like walking in the dark, like holding on to promises and hoping against all odds that you will make it. Trust is relinquishing control and admitting that you do not know it all, that you are limited in power, and that you need God. Not because you have been pushed to the corner, but because He is the creator of heaven and earth and because He loves you.

Because He loves you.

Selah.

Love is a wonderful thing. It is unconventional. It changes things, it changes you!

Here are some songs that are featuring on my play list this week. May they remind you of this wonderful love and the One who loves you.

Blessings

❤

She’s Not A Baby Anymore

I am currently sitting in a make-shift tent with Ky, holding her red pumpkin, which in reality is a bouncing ball. Though I am not about to burst her bubble, or oppose her imagination. Nah, I am here for all of it.

All of it.

That is the thing about life, you can’t have the good and excuse yourself from the bad, like some children skip over their veggies. Life is not like a side dish. It is more like a meal cooked in one pot. In the community that I come from this is a common occurrence and it is considered a delicacy. Please note that I am not talking about lasagna or shepherds pie type of one pot dish, that’s a pretty fancy comparison for the rice mixed with protein and veggies dish. But it is nutritious. It may not always look the best, depending on how it is cooked, but you know that it is healthy.

Motherhood has been like a one pot dish for me. There are seasons that I have disliked how it looked and felt. I would envy people with older children. When Ky was little, she struggled with reflux, every regurgitation deflated my hope. It was frustrating, messy and tear jerking. Having to give Ky a bath, then take a shower and change the sheets at mid-night was not the experience I hoped for. The snide comments from nurses regarding her weight gain, or lack thereof, felt like bricks pelting a straw house.

Now I smile as I watch the girls play and sit in their tents. They are always on the move, playing, laughing, chattering and running. I cherish the cuddles and moments when I can draw them in and hug them. I enjoy watching them sleep, and love that they sleep through the night.

In retrospect the mountains and valleys have been worth it. They may not have felt like it as we labored in love, but I have seen God turn things around for our good.

I have learned that it doesn’t have to feel good for me to know that it is working out for my good.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28

The Thing About Grief

My debut ride on a roller coaster was unforgettable. The adrenaline, fear and nausea are etched in my memory. It was exhilarating, that was until we experienced a technical failure. We had to walk off mid-way, thankfully the adults around us were very calm, and we had navigated to a place that we could get off comfortably.

In the roller coaster of life, March is my month of hope, sunshine and Endometriosis awareness. April most times is like a crabby pitstop, it pales in comparison, it’s a grim reminder of loss, pain and fading memories. May is my happy month, my new slate. 

After an incredible adrenaline filled March, April hit me so hard this year. I run to books, I’ve been reading a novel in a day. It’s amazing how much you can do when you have to survive and keep the blues at bay. The brain is an amazing organ, able to multi-task and cushion itself from sadness. 

What sucks about grief as the years go by is that the pain morphs in to a permanent fixture. It is like the loud ticking clock in your living room, after a couple of years, you get used to the pulsing ticks and tocks. You realize that it is one with your wall. It’s hard to imagine how things would look or sound without it there.

This year, I realized that the memories that I’d held close to my heart over the years were fading, and with each stroke of the eraser of time, a part of my heart wept. I searched deep within for a tape I could rewind one more time, just to hear his voice, but there was none.

That’s the thing about grief.

When you think you’ve healed, it shows you a different side of the prism, a different angle in the diamond. As you stare at the gem that is your existence, and marvel at how far you have been carried, you can’t help but think about the murky, dirty seasons that you have been through. The puddles of tears and mud of despair and anger. 

Even in the midst of the chaos, in between the raging emotions you find a stillness. It doesn’t negate the feelings, but it reminds you to keep fighting because you are still breathing. 

I look back at the past 8 years and amidst tears I stand in awe of God. The one who never leaves the one behind. There are good days, and low days. But He is still God when we are in the valley and when we are on  the hill. 

May I never lose sight of his loving kindness towards me and those that I love. 

For those who’ve lost a loved one and are still trying to navigate the tides of grief, I pray that the Lord will draw you nigh, that you will be comforted by His embrace and His never changing nature.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit. ~Psalms 34:18

Homemade Kids Paint ~ Easy Peasy Recipe

Happy new year from the K’s

We are finally settling back home annod it’s so good to find a new routine.

To kick start our year we made homemade paint. I was a bit skeptical about it but, I am trying to say more YES’s to my little ones and open to trying out new things.

Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.~

Pablo Picasso

Miss K and Ky love to paint, sometimes Ky wants to taste the paint, I think the red reminds of her ripe tomatoes, who knows? We can all agree that the pigmentation in store bought paint is quite strong.

3 ingredient home made paint recipe

1 cup of Water
1/2 cup of Flour
Food colour

Method

We mixed the water and flour until it was smooth (it still had a few lumps which you can see in the paintings). Then we divided the white paint (ha! More like pancake batter minus the eggs) in to five containers and then we added the food colour. We used powder food colour, and I took a little shortcut, against my better judgement, and added it without mixing it with water. The green was not very forgiving. It reminded me of a speckled frog 🐸.

And then we painted.

I can attest to the fact that art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. Picasso was right, he knew that art is therapeutic.

Yesterday the song that played in my mind as I painted is ‘Cycles ‘ by Jonathan McReynolds, it explains the circular motions. I enjoyed painting with the girlies, I’ll definitely be accepting more painting invitations.

The pros and cons of homemade paint :

The pros
-it is cheap to make
-it is toxin free and you shouldn’t worry too much if your little one eats it
-it is fun to make, the children can enjoy the process of making it and mixing colours
-it takes a short time to make
-it washes of easier than store bought paint
–
The cons
-it doesn’t keep long so you’d have to make small batches regularly
-this recipe’s paint isn’t as glossy as regular store bought paint does

I’ll definitely make another batch soon and try out other recipes.

Happy painting 🎨

Tea Party With The Teddies

Sometimes all we need is something new to breathe some life and excitement to our old collections.

On Sunday, Miss K got a beautiful Hello Kitty tea pot, while Ky got a slice of cake from a little shop, together these two toys have unified their troop of toys. Almost all our games now revolve around feeding a teddy or a ‘toto’, or even feeding ourselves.

One afternoon this week, while Ky napped, Miss K got a fraction of her teddies, put ’em on four little chairs and then begun to serve them tea. You should have seen the look on her face, one of sheer joy, and excitement. The girls love having visitors, they think that we should host people everyday. I am glad that our love for hosting has rubbed off on them, we did it a lot before we had little ones, and now that they are old enough, it is a joy to see them long to serve others and share with others.

Miss K hosted what I’d call a modern day miracle. She probably didn’t realize it, but in the moments that I watched her, my heart was so encouraged. Her fifteen teddies, varying in age and size, shared two pots of tea and shared one slice of cake. And, according to Miss K, they were so full afterwards, they needed to have a nap.

This reminded me of how Jesus fed the 5000 men.  While it was just a game for Miss K, I pray that she will apply that faith in her life. God is still in the business of performing miracles. Miracles happen when we share, then we realize how the power of God can transform little into a lot. How something that could only have benefited one or two people, can transform the lives of others.

What is it that you have in your hands? What is it that you are being called to share? I’ll leave you with this bridge that has been my heart’s song this week, as I take the limits off my faith.

“I’ve seen You move, come move the mountains 
And I believe, I’ll see You do it again
You made a way, where there was no way
And I believe, I’ll see You do it again”

Angels

If you had an angel following you around every day, what do you imagine they would wear? Would they have themes each day, you know, throw in a 17th-century outfit every other Thursday or some shades of blue on Mondays?

Sunday is my most rewarding and draining days, in equal measure. I teach the little children, children below three years old. Sometimes it is a walk in the park, other times it is like trying to conduct a choir whose members are in different time zones.

Yesterday, I taught them about angels. Some were wide-eyed as I showed them pictures from a pop-up Christmas book, others were more interested in the toys sprawled around, while others were intrigued by pink crocs.

A scroll on my social media page reminds me how much we need protection. As much as we try to protect our children, we cannot be with them at all times. We don’t see the bigger picture, we are not all knowing, seeing or powerful. We are limited in our power, but we serve a God who is omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent.

He is able to order his angels to protect us.

“For he orders his angels to protect you wherever you go.~

~Psalm 91:11

We colored cut-out angels to remind us that God orders his angels to protect us everywhere we go. As the little ones play with their toys and lie in their beds, they know that there are angels watching over them.

My colored angel has a home on my wall to remind me that angels are watching over me everywhere that I go.

 

Juicy Grapes

The older I get, the more I embrace the things that I once detested. The things that I was hell-bent on never liking are the ones that I enjoy now. My mum chuckles that I feed my girlies sweet potatoes regularly because I would scoff at the sight of them. I would eat them amidst complaints, I was too bitter on the inside to appreciate their sweetness and fiber. But there was nothing that I loathed like ugali/sima (maize meal).

I practiced intermittent fasting on the days that sima was served at home. It was always in the wrong company, bitter tasting, and hard textured company. The veggies and the choice of protein put me off completely. My attempts to sweeten it with mala were shortlived, as I would sometimes forget to buy it on my way home, and it really wasn’t that deep.

When we moved to Mombasa, a love relationship was formed. I could actually enjoy my Sima and look forward to the days that I eat it. I still haven’t gotten to the place that I can eat it every day like my family, I guess the love for sima failed to be passed in the genes.

I also started enjoying traditional veggies, especially those on the slimier side of the spectrum – mrenda. The deep green color screams nutrients. A few days ago, as I was eating my sima and mrenda, Miss K and Ky decided that they must have grapes at that time. I asked them to wait for two minutes as I was almost done, then I would wash my hands, wash the grapes and serve them.

The girlies listened for all of twenty seconds and then they proceeded to eat the grapes as they were. They bit into the rather squishy ones that had them contorting their faces. They spat them out before I could say ‘I asked you to wait’. Their taste buds had expected the sweet taste of the grapes, instead, they got a fermented treat.

I eventually finished my food, washed my hands and prepped the grapes for them. As they chomped them down I explained why it is good to wait, patience sometimes seems impossible for toddler and preschooler. As I spoke, I realized that I too could learn a lesson from them.

When I feel like God is taking too long to answer a request, I should trust His heart and His timing. If I don’t I should remember that I might bite into some squishy fermented grapes, yet He desires to sort them out and give me the best.

Here’s to juicy grapes that are worth the wait.

 

 

 

The Writing on The Wall

My wall looked like the tiger version of Elmer the elephant. Multicolored, artsy and happy, well, at least the painters and artists were happy.

Ky woke up one day, she started singing along to songs and holding a crayon or pen like a seasoned artist. Her favorite thing to do is draw and color, while Miss K could paint with her eyes closed.

They enjoy expressing themselves through art, while Ksena caught on the fact that art is for paper, Ky is taking a little longer to understand why we need to use an A3 paper instead of the blank canvases all around the house.

While this would have made me upset a few years ago, I extend more grace now. I actually enjoy trying to decipher what their works of art are. Sometimes I see one thing, and they see something else. But their joy and confidence beam from the inside.

Instead of looking at the writing on the wall as a sheer inconvenience and something to be upset about, I look at it as a reminder of grace, that God looked at my sin, and paid the price for me. God’s grace over my life humbles me when I feel impatient, and irritable I pray that the Lord will remind me of His grace, that I may pass it on. He is not patient with me because I am deserving, He is patient with me because He loves me. And love, grace, and patience are like a three stand chord, they must work together.

There is always room for grace

And just so the record is straight, the writing on the wall skills could actually be genetic. I was an artist who drew on my mama’s walls. Her wallpaper flowers always had spots and checked lines. Most times it was just a massive doodle, on or under the wallpaper. She was not always smiling when she saw my drawings and wondered why I had ignored all of the drawing pads at my disposal.

But Grace!

It was extended to me, and now I can extend to others around me.

Cheeky Monkey Escapades

I have these lumps in my throat every time I watch Ksena climb something. She is in a phase where she just wants to climb, I need to find a good monkey bar, it will be a good exercise for both of us. She will practice her climbing and I, well, I will pray, and pray, and pray some more. That will keep me from calling out to her each time my heart skips a beat, it will also keep me from physically carrying her off the monkey bar.

She has recruited another cheeky monkey, Ky is now a climber, and they both have bumps, that look like dark potatoes on their foreheads. God forbid those become a K-squad trademark feature. I have found them on the window seal with hearts bursting with pride, while my heart was growing faint.

Do you believe in angels? I do! I also believe in miracles. I have seen these at work in our lives. You know the sound that a skull makes when it hits the ground? The loud thud that could be measured on a Richter scale, I have heard those severally and it is just by God’s grace that the girls are fine. I know that some say that children are resilient, but miracles and angels, my friends, are also very real.

The brain is an amazing organ. Isn’t it sad that we often underutilize it, yet we will have a new body in the afterlife? Miss K’s ability to remember things that happened more than half her lifetime ago blows me away. These memories are what she uses to decide if she can or can’t do something.

“When you go out to fight your enemies and you face horses and chariots and an army greater than your own, do not be afraid. The LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, is with you!

~ Deuteronomy 20:1 New Living Translation

This verse struck me earlier today. God’s character remains constant. He is not frazzled by circumstances, nothing is too difficult for Him. Our brains have the ability to store information and block it out as well, but remembering how God has carried you through situations in the past is crucial for you to go forth to new adventures.

The new adventure may seem complicated and daunting, you may feel inadequate, small and ill-equipped. Remember that God is greater than anything life may throw your way.

He is faithful. The question is, will you trust Him?

 

 

 

 

Gluten Devoured My Peace

My body has resolved to scream because I have been ignoring its whispers. I honestly cannot blame it, serves me right to some extent, but this, this has been bad.

I am in the middle of an uproar, a gluten revolt. Acne has erupted on my skin, I wish it was just on my face, but I have little unsightly bumps on my face, arms, and chest, then there is the rash that looks like a field of grass around the pimples.

I’ve been off dairy for a few weeks and it feels good. Ovulation has been a breeze, no pain or inflammation. The egg has traveled in peace, without much disruption of my daily life. I am high-fiving myself as I quiet down any milkshake cravings.

A few days ago, I started experiencing gluten cravings. I wanted bread, sweet bread, chapatis, mahamris. You know when your body just wants wheat in all forms, shapes, and sizes? I should have known it was a recipe for disaster. I got the usual canker sore and brain fog, then those healed, this has always been my body’s way of saying, “We have crossed our threshold. You need to chill on the gluten”.

But did I listen?

I listened for a few days then I found wheat, or should I say wheat found it’s way to my intestines. The result has not been as sweet as toast, nah, it has had me tossing in bed, jittery, anxious and red and I couldn’t put my finger on it, I couldn’t even sit still.

In my antsy state, I prayed. Yo, peace is a precious commodity. I guard it with all I have, in this case, I had eaten it away.

Then I remembered one of the side-effects of gluten, and I knew it! It was the cause of the imbalance. I did a quick experiment and got off the trigger, and my peace, sweet peace was back. It wasn’t 100% but it was not 15% either. For that, I am so grateful.

I do believe that God cares about every aspect of my life. This is not too petty or trivial for Him. He cares about what I eat, and He cares about how I feel. I know that as I cast my anxieties on Him, He cares for me, He loves me and I am safe in His hands.

His peace is enough for me.

 

Beyond Diapers and Routines

Perspective is a beautiful thing, it can infuse a stressful moment with patience. It can quiet down raging emotions and lend some insight into a situation.

The truth is that as motherhood is getting easier, it is also getting more complicated. I am almost done changing diapers, I hope you know I am using the word almost very loosely, give or take another two years, but still, that is pretty close. I am happy that the girls have grown so much. Soon they will be little semi-independent girlies, and my lap may not be there comfort zone.

Each season has its own challenges, things that could take a lot of my time. No one ever has it all figured out, at least I don’t, but I am done waiting for perfect conditions to do some of the things that I have been procrastinating about. There will never be perfect conditions, I am finally getting out of my own head, making a plan and teaching Ksena and Ky memory verses. Our first verse was Philippians 4:19. This week we are focusing on Psalms 56:4 as it was our verse in Sunday school.

In God, whose word I praise

In God I trust and I am not afraid.

~Psalm 56:4 NIV

It has been amazing watching Miss K grow in her own walk with God. Watching God teach her, and her hunger to know more about Him. This morning on our way to play school, she told me that she longs to see Jesus. She wanted to know where heaven is and how long she can go visit for. I answered these questions very carefully, especially the length of visit before she starts praying for a 1-month visit.

I received a long message yesterday that is still tugging at my heartstrings. I know in the depths of my heart that the Lord longs to reveal Himself to children. I need to play our part and prepare their hearts, read the word to them and love them.

MOTHERS – GET READY FOR NEW STRATEGIES IN YOUR PARENTING!! JESUS IS INVITING YOU INTO THE STRATEGY ROOM OF HEAVEN!!! 

Lana Vawser 

I had a vision recently and I saw Jesus inviting Mothers into the strategy room of heaven to bless them. He was inviting them in to sit at the table with Him and to receive new creative strategies and divine insight in their parenting. I knew instantly that the Lord had invited the Mothers into this strategy room with Him to hear these new strategies for they were the creative strategies for the new season to carry the increase that He is releasing. It wasn’t there was anything wrong with how things were done before, but there was an increase that the Lord was wanting to bring. 

A SEASON OF DEEP ENCOUNTERS FOR CHILDREN

As I watched in this vision, Mother after Mother responding to the call from the Lord, they sat at the table with Jesus and He began to unravel these scrolls of divine insight, blueprints and creative strategy on raising, ministering and sowing into their children. The Spirit of wisdom and revelation was so strong, I saw Mother’s filling pages and pages and pages in journals of the insight the Lord was releasing. As they wrote what He was speaking, His Words on the pages became keys. There were SO MANY keys and then the Lord spoke “This is a season of great UNLOCKING upon your children. A season of deep encounters for children with Me has begun.” The atmosphere was full of such joy and expectation that we are about to see a radical increase of children encountering the Lord and the supernatural in greater ways than we have ever seen before. As I watched this taking place it reminded me of a dream that I had a while ago regarding revival and the great outpouring of His Spirit. As I slept I heard the Lord speaking over and over “It won’t begin, until it begins with the children.” 

This invitation from the Lord for Mother’s is so weighty, it’s so strategic and it is so on the Lord’s heart right now, for He is releasing the new “pathways” to position, invest, pray and sow into our children to see them move into their greatest season of encounter with Jesus. I saw children who already know the Lord having deeper encounters than they have ever had, and I saw children who do not yet know the Lord, suddenly encountering Jesus and His radical, unrelenting, ever pursuing love and being radically transformed.

There is a MAJOR move of the Spirit of God upon children right now and the divine strategies that the Lord is releasing to Mother’s right now is going to bring forth greater healing, breakthrough and freedom to children. 

I asked the Lord why there was a focus upon Mother’s being into the strategy room of heaven right now, and I heard Him say “I am going to release a greater revelation to children of My nurture through Mothers in this season.” 

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES

I kept hearing the words “Out of the mouths of babes” and the Lord showed me that there is significant increase of revelation, wisdom and breakthrough that He is going to release through children in this season. 

“You have built a stronghold by the songs of babies.
Strength rises up with the chorus of singing children.
This kind of praise has the power to shut Satan’s mouth.
Childlike worship will silence the madness of those who oppose you.” – Psalm 8:2 (The Passion Translation)

I felt the Lord saying “LISTEN!!!” – Listen to what your children speak from the encounters that they have with Me, for there is going to be great wisdom and revelation from My heart released from the mouths of babes. For in this season you will see a greater increase of worship and praise from the children, rising to Me that is going to release a significant breaker anointing to silence the enemy and to bring forth the breaker. Do not be surprised if the wisdom and direction you are seeking Me for, comes through the mouths of babes.”  

I also heard the Lord say “Pay attention to their dreams”. I suddenly saw an increase of prophetic dreams taking place for children in this season where they will encounter the Lord and the supernatural realms in greater ways. For the Lord is going to speak through the encounters many children have in this season with Jesus in their dreams, bringing forth great clarity, insight and divine strategy. 

The wisdom and discernment to guide children in their understanding of what they are experiencing and seeing is falling upon households like torrential rain. 

CONTINUE TO PRAY OVER THEIR DREAMS

Where the Lord is increasing prophetic dreams and encounters with Him with children in the night hours, I heard the Lord say “Continue to pray over their dreams. Continue to bathe their dreams in prayer, for the enemy would attempt to hinder these encounters with Me through fear filled dreams, nightmares or night terrors, but continue to plead My blood over their dreams and their sleep. Continue to decree My Word of peaceful sleep and prophetic insight over them as they sleep and My angelic hosts to surround their beds, and you will see a major breakthrough of My Glory, revelation and insight being poured out upon them as they sleep.” 

MOTHERS YOU WILL BE REFRESHED AND STRENGTHENED BY MY SPIRIT, FILLED WITH GREATER JOY THAN YOU HAVE EVER KNOWN IN YOUR PARENTING

The vision then went back to the Mother’s in the heavenly strategy room with Jesus and I watched as they were encountering the Lord and His new strategies, blueprints and creative insight, I watched as what looked like a HUGE waterfall was pouring over them. It was the rivers of His Spirit bringing refreshment to  them. They were being refreshed, strengthened and empowered again by the Spirit of God to move in this new season and new blueprints He was releasing. I watched as the Lord encouraged them and spoke: “Greater joy than you have ever known in your parenting is upon you!!!” 

The atmosphere was FULL of excitement and anticipation, that there was GREATER JOY than they had ever known beginning to break forth. I heard the Lord continue to speak to them “Do not look at what has been. Do not look at what was. But look to Me and know that this is your season of greater increase in your parenting. In this season you will see greater healing, you will see greater restoration, you will see greater redemption, recompense and divine breakthrough in your parenting than you have ever seen.”

I then saw these heavy “sandbags” on the shoulders of many Mother’s and these sandbags were labeled “REGRET”. I saw that many Mother’s have been carrying around “REGRET” and the Lord wanted to lift it off. Attached to these heavy “sandbags” of “REGRET” were lies. The enemy had come and found these sandbags of “REGRET” and was attacking them with his lies regarding their role as a Mother and their children. I watched as Jesus spoke such beautiful truth to them about their role as a Mother, the destiny of their children and His plans, and His love began to pierce holes in these sandbags of regret and they were melting away. There was a new level of peace, joy, and expectation in their role as Mother being given to them. I then heard Him speak again “Don’t look back. Look forward. Look to Me and KNOW that nothing is impossible for Me. The strategies I am releasing as you implement them are going to bring MAJOR breakthrough, increase, turnaround and restoration. It’s time for you to THRIVE in your role as Mother. This is the Year of Family and the enemy has come against Mother’s so strongly in this season, but NO MORE. Mothers, it’s your time to FLY! It’s your time to FLY! I am redeeming time! I am taking you higher! I am opening your eyes in greater ways to My strategy and you will pray and see significant breakthrough SUDDENLY unlike you have ever experienced.”

MOTHERS, THE BOWLS OF HEAVEN CONCERNING YOUR CHILDREN ARE TIPPING

The Lord smiled and said “Mothers, the bowls of heaven concerning your children are tipping. Not one prayer you have prayed is in vain. Nothing has fallen to the ground. As you have learnt into Me and you have prayed My heart, as you have prayed My Word, as you have invested into your children through prayer, NOW you shall see the bowls of heaven are about to TIP over your children. You shall see the greatest outpouring of My Spirit over you, your family unit and your children. You shall see the manifestation of the breakthrough of the many prayers you have prayed, greater fruitfulness than you have known and greater INCREASE. The ground shall no longer be dry. The land shall no longer be barren, but you shall see great FRUITFULNESS come to your children and your household. As the fruit bursts forth, you will understand why the battle has been so hard regarding your children and family, because I have decreed this IS the season of greater fruitfulness in your family than you have ever known.”

“Mothers, this is your time to arise in new ways moving in My wisdom and revelation to see the greatest outpouring of My Spirit and breakthrough upon your children and family unit. The banner of My faithfulness is about to be lifted HIGH!!!!”

Please let me know if this has been helpful, I would love to hear how the Lord is moving in your homes.

May our children be taught by the Lord, and may they know great peace.

 

 

 

Miracles Still Happen

The most incredible thing about miracles is that they happen. ~ G.K Chesterton

A few weeks ago, Miss K knocked her tooth on a wall and it started greying. She was rolling about in her bed and she bumped into the wall, and a few days later her tooth lost it’s resemblance to milk.

It helped that Ksena was able to articulate what had happened. There was no pain and no abscess it was just off-white in the beginning until it turned grey.

When we saw the doc and spoke to a dentist they both said, it’s not a big deal since it is a milk tooth. That was the good news, the bad news was that there was nothing that they could do, we were just going to have to embrace the grey until the milk tooth fell out.

For the next couple of days, we talked to Miss K about it and reassured her that her beauty wasn’t determined by her pearly whites. We told her what the doctor had said, that she would have to wait it out until her teeth started shaking. After considering that option, she purposed to pray for the tooth.

We stopped focusing on the tooth and experienced the peace that came from accepting the things that you cannot change. Our power was limited in this case, even our best intentions could not whiten the tooth.

About two weeks later, the tooth turned back to white, like nothing had happened. It is white. There are no hints of grey. It is back to normal. Praise be to God. When I told the dentist what had happened, she was overjoyed. She could see God’s footprints all over this.

I don’t know what grey situation you are facing, but even as you are in the midst of the storm, I urge you not to write God off. He is a miracle working God. Nothing is permanent unless He says so. He has power over the elements, the seasons and time. He is the only one that we should put our trust in.

My prayer is that my children will encounter the Lord from a tender age, that as we teach them about God’s word and the bible stories, that they will experience His power and see Him in their lives.

I believe in miracles.

This Present Darkness

I never imagined that sadness and joy could unite and leave such a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth.

One day, I stared at the curtains flapping as the fan swirled on the ceiling, and I yearned to fly away. I was overwhelmed. I loved my baby, but it was all too much. My hormone levels were spiked and dropped like a yo-yo and I felt out of control. The colic and sleep deprivation eroded my sanity.

I had no problems with milk production and my CS scar was healing well so the doctor gave me a clean bill of health. I looked fine, but I was crumbling, and strong emotions were welling up inside me.

Guilt ate me alive. Here I was, humbled to hold my baby in my arms, especially after my journey with Endometriosis. I felt guilty for not enjoying the process. My pictures at this time were not social media worthy, I looked tired, heavier on the scale, and one statement away from tears.

I craved sunshine.

I longed for the simple days, days that felt like the fairytale that I had hoped to live out – happy mama and happy baby.

Some days were good, especially when I slept and left the house. Cabin fever was not increasing my joy levels. In the thick of things, I prayed:

May the present darkness that I am experiencing, not dim the light in my child’s eyes.    

It got better, eventually, it did. When I look back at those days I shudder, I am grateful that life goes on. That’s the good thing and the not so good thing. There are no off days to figure things out. You just figure them out as you go. And, there is no immunity to things that could make you sad or make you feel like you’ve stumbled on a stone and are trying to find your balance.

God’s grace remains sufficient. My prayer for you is that God who sees all things and knows all things, will carry you and give you peace. And, that the darkness that threatens to overwhelm you will lift, and make way for His light.

Happy Mother’s day!!.

You are loved.

❤

P.S if you’d like someone to talk to, please send me an email via bibi2bee@gmail.com.

 

 

 

 

 

Running on E

WhoMy morning began with a choir of tears.

I knew we were off to a difficult start. Before I had children, I used to be a morning person. Now, I  wake up before my alarm bings because I am an often-tired person, who has a long list of things to do. To be honest, I doubt I was really a morning person, I think that the Endometriosis induced fatigue was less in the morning.

Motherhood is a lifetime job. It is multi-faceted so the brief keeps changing. Perhaps, change is one of the constants. Some tricks grow old, you grow old, and your children. well, they grow older too.

It is a cocktail of laughs from the depth of your belly, and tears from the bottom of your heart. Some days are good, some days are heart-wrenching.  From time to time you countdown to bedtime, not because you hate your children, but because they have been EXTRA the whole day and you want to catch a break. On the unfortunate days, your emotions, and internal conflicts get in the way, and you are harsher than you should have been. You are not as patient as you say Jesus wants us to be. Some days you fail, and as you watch your little one’s tummy rise and fall as they sleep, you beat yourself up. You wallow in regret and helplessness.

I have many days that I wake up feeling as if I’m running on a deficiency. As though my fuel is at E. Many days where I cry to Jesus for forgiveness, and almost beg for strength because I feel spent. Days where nothing feels like it is enough.

A few days ago, in the most unlikely place, and almost in passing, the Lord reminded me that unless I look to Him and rely on Him I will feel disadvantaged. I will feel that I am not enough. I will fall short even before I stand tall.

The bolts of your gates will be iron and bronze, and your strength will equal your days. Deuteronomy 33:25

My strength shall equal my days. God, who pre-destined me, who knows all of the days that I have lived and those to come, has already apportioned me the adequate strength to face each day.

After this revelation, I started saying this prayer in the morning:

Dear Lord, I do not know what the day holds, but I know it is You who holds it. I know that you have given me the adequate strength to face this day, therefore I will go forth with boldness and peace.

For this mama, who is sometimes weary, my heart is encouraged when I know that my strength will equal my days.

 

When Grief Erupts

I watched the cursor lazily jog on the spot as I wondered what to type. As I stared, I could feel something shift within me, grief was rising. It felt like larva rising from the depths of the earth. A small trigger, a thought I had dwelt on, was causing a surge of emotions within. Trying to suppress the grief felt like trying to stop acid reflux from filling your mouth. It left both a burning sensation in my chest and a bitter taste in my mouth.

At 1pm I changed into my pajamas and retreated to bed. The ache of my heart triggered a feeling of malaise, I wanted to sleep the grief away. To wake up feeling fresh and happy like spring. Every time I tried to write, I typed sadness. A sadness that I felt guilty about having because it’s been over 5 years, 7 to be precise. After a few years is grief tempest in a teapot? Does grief have a lifespan? Does it ever completely go away? Or is it like the waves in the ocean, swayed by other factors?

As tears streamed down my cheeks, I allowed myself to feel all the emotions in their intensity. To go down memory lane and hold on to the memories that I didn’t want to fade away.

The Lord is near to those who are discouraged; he saves those who have lost all hope. (Psalm 34:18)

 

The Cow Has Refused

Cow milk was mandatory in most households when I was growing up. It was the healthiest drink around, well, that is after water. I can’t remember anyone in my circle who didn’t drink milk.

Every day at 4pm, my brother and I would be called into the house to drink our milk. If we stayed too long, it would cool and we’d have to remove the cream. I found this beverage quite unnecessary, it would interrupt our play and leave us feeling so full. Little wonder, I struggled to eat my dinner every night, but that is a story for another day.

For hubs, every morning, at the crack of dawn, just after the cows were milked, he would hear a rap on his door. A glass of warm milk had been brought. In their home, drinking milk was mandatory until you were eighteen years old. Now he can’t stand milk, I think eighteen years of drinking milk was enough to last him a lifetime.

When Miss K was one, her body completely refused milk but would accept yogurt. I was in denial at first so I would make her ‘nylon’ milk diluted with water, and sometimes it would work. When the symptoms – diarrhea, stomach cramps, rash on face, never-ending cough- intensified, I had to let go of the dream. Though her desire for hot chocolate and cereal has had me experiment with different brands.

I thought Ky would be the milk drinker in our home, however, I think their genes have had enough of milk. The saddest part, for me that is, is that even milk in food is affecting them. I made pancakes the other day with diluted milk, and a few minutes after Ky ate one, the rash appeared, and diarrhea

The cow has refused!

I usually joke that Ky would be the one to milk cows in our home, seeing as she is an early riser, but now I’ll prob settle for picking coconuts, as that is the alternative we are switching to.

Two years ago, I was stressed that Ksena wouldn’t drink milk, but in my journey of self-awareness, I have seen how it triggers bloating for me and learned to listen to my body when it whispers. I am grateful that I have access to information and alternatives and for peace. Lord knows that the intolerance symptoms worried me especially when I didn’t know what was going on.

Whilst the cows have refused, the coconuts have agreed!

 

 

 

 

Ballerina

‘Our dreams are valid’ is what I think to myself everytime I see Miss K practicing her ballet that has been heavily influenced by a rodent, Angelina Ballerina.

“Mum look I am balancing” she squeals and then proceeds to twirl along. Ky joins her in a swirling motion, like ice cream being dispensed onto a cone, with a smile on her face and a dizzy spell in tow.

“Mum, I want you to teach me ballet!” Ksena told me, I almost spilled my tea, honored that she thinks that ballet is one of the things that I am good at and that I am a graceful ballerina.

I think that they’ve got a hang of balancing better than I have. Sometimes I feel flustered as I balance being a mum and writer (now published author), while incubating and working on other dreams. Though I am learning that some structure and accepting help goes a long way. And the grace and poise will come with the training and territory.

The story would not be complete without sacrifice and patience, the fine print that should be in font size 72 and caps because they are the core of the journey.

Sacrifice

I write when the household is asleep, most times yawning, not because the content is boring but my bed beckons and there is something about seeing people sleeping that makes me want to sleep too.

Patience

I think I kept failing this test. It feels like I have been going around the mountain for 40 years and growing weary. I had my own grand timelines for my book(s), but they did not work out. My prayers became microwave editions, with timelines on them. Frustration peaked when after ‘2 minutes’ the meal was not ready.

Bloom

You know the joy that you feel when you cook up a storm and it looks good and tastes good? I have the same kinda joy in my heart. My first published book Bloom is FINALLY out. I wrote it one year ago and it has been such a journey, but it is out and I am a very different person and writer from the lady who wrote it.

When I got my final sample my girlies were so excited, Ky kept squealing, “Mama!” when she saw my picture, and she ran to show anyone who cared to see. Seeing my picture and name on a book is still growing on me, but my obedience coupled with God’s goodness, faithfulness, and counsel, that I could get used to seeing.

Here I am, a dancing ballerina with joy in my heart, looking forward to learning some more beautiful steps in the ballet class of life, and dancing to please my King.

If you would like to order Bloom, please send me an email via yellowendflower@gmail.com and I will let you know how to get it.

 

Yum Yum

We are planning an art exhibition in our household. Miss K wants to have a show where she displays all her drawings. She is so serious about it, and has been sorting her masterpieces, she has a guest list and is about to give me her brief for the catering department. It is something that she talks about everyday, so I’ll share with you some pictures of the exhibition when it happens.

Ky on the other hand thinks that coloring is extremely exciting- well, nothing trumps painting- especially when she is coloring Ksena’s pages. When this happens I countdown to the exchange that will ensue, I am a full-time referee.

Ky’s fave color seems to be green at the moment, she says ‘Geen’ with a grin. Super cute, I tell you. Watching her reminds me how sometimes I think that the grass is greener on the other side, yet in some instances it just depends on which color your are coloring your paper.

We could all be having the same meal, but she will prefer it if it comes from Daddy’s plate. Last night when she saw me serve hubs, she shouted, ‘Yum Yum’ as she charged towards him his dinner. She knows that unless his food is laded with chilli he will share it with her. In fact when I serve him, I put a little extra for Ky.

At this tender age, she knows that she has access to what her father has, when she asks she receives. As she chowed on his food, I said to him, “May you partake of what belongs to your father (in heaven) like Ky does with you. She knows that you will not withhold from her any good thing.” I didn’t add, don’t throw tantrums when you don’t get your way, because the tantrums are with us, but we are grateful for grace from above and experience with Miss K, we know that they too shall pass.

In my walk with God, I pray that I will go to him as my father and partake of that which he has prepared for me. That I will not let my experiences and biases dispel my desire for Him.

 

 

 

Does Jesus Love Me?

A friend shared that is not too late to wish each other a Happy new year, until we get to Valentine’s. So, Happy new year!!!

One evening as I lay with the girlies on the bed, Baby K tagged my hand and asked ‘Mama, does Jesus love me’. It was unprovoked, and so genuine. I said ‘Yes, of course He does’ as I smothered her in a hug.

Sometimes in the depths of what life throws my way, I find myself asking similar questions, not as brazenly, but just for a sign that He has still got me. In His own way, He reminds me that He is still sovereign and loving.

This song by Jonathan Traylor is my January anthem.

https://open.spotify.com/track/5a7XPZGqVmqfua9pWCOYE3?si=o8l9ubwDQPGiBzRHge-HJA

No matter what we face, may we still know that we are loved – wholly and passionately. God is present in the storm. He is not asleep or aloof. He remains in control. So we can breathe easier, because we are loved.

Mama in the Storm

I’m twiddling my thumbs as I look at the girls walk off to school. They are loud and excited, but I know I’ll miss them at some point in the day. It’s the random things that I miss :Miss K always ready to share something new, Ky’s ability to ask questions as she does mental puzzles, Baby K and her shadow abilities. This girl is the definition of ‘stuck on me’. It’s easy to think parenting is all about you teaching them while there is also so much we can glean from them as well.

One of the days the week before we opened school, as I put Baby K to sleep I asked her to tell Jesus something. She turned and said, “Jesus do you care for mummy” then she sat still as though she was listening to the pitch while tuning a guitar. Then she smiled and said “Yes you care for her.” I had not seen that coming. Though this baby girl knew my heart was weary from fighting to stay alive. This was so precious.

So many times people have approached me and said ‘ but you look better’. Also there’s this strange myth that if you add weight things are working in your favour. That must’ve been a pharmacist or a foodie who came up with that one, because all of the weight I have added is med related, well and food.

How do I remain joyful even in the process of healing? How do I measure progress when we are on a rollercoaster ride with some serious dips? I honestly don’t know. I’m holding on to Baby K’s words, yes! Jesus cares. It’s just been really hard to see the other side while navigating the waves and winds.

Still here,

*Ess*

**Ps: if you would like to help us settle the hospital bill and cater for the monthly bills which are so high at the moment, you can send money to Doris Cherono 0722253522.**

Even here I call Him healer. Even here I call Him good.

A Pain That Counts

For over a decade I thought that the most painful thing I’d endure in my life was endometriosis. Even nursing the CS wound seemed easier. Because Endo ain’t regular period pain it’s like barbed wire being sawed along your insides. It’s bad on the body and bad on the mind.

Gruesome.

Late last year I began to struggle, I did everything I knew to stay afloat, but in November it got to a place I was drowning on dry land. I finally acknowledged that my strength was limited and that I needed help. I was happy but sad, energised but tired, light but heavy.

I identified a hospital and went in tears, shattered on the inside, sobbing the spaghetti feeling away. Praying for some practical help, and hoping it wasn’t all in my head. The pictures below were taken a day apart.

At the hospital, I was sure I had gone to the right place. I didn’t feel odd or too broken, I felt hopeful instead. I left the hospital, with a diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder and antidepressants. I felt seen, heard and cared for and that there was help and hope for broken people like me.

My diagnosis has morphed since November but I’ll share that in a series of other posts. For today, this post is a hug for all the people feeling a little broken, there is hope, there is help and there is joy.

I love the way you embrace broken people like me

This journey has been too painful for me to sit on it and hope it ends. Here is hoping that the pain counts for something more than my being curled up in bed as I type this. That you’ll feel seen and know that you are not alone. May this be a source of encouragement, hope and joy.

Resources you can check out:

Kenya Red Cross runs a toll-free line; 1199 that provides 24-hour free tele-counselling to the public.

Chiromo hospital group has several services you can check out. https://chiromohospitalgroup.co.ke/our-services/

When A Loved One Dies By Suicide

Trigger warning: suicide, grief, death
There is something complex about grief. It consumes, it teaches and it alters you.

It’s invisible yet heavy. It’s amorphous yet palpable.

Yesterday I got to celebrate the life of a loved one. It was bitter sweet, full of memories and longings. Some smiles and some tears.

This year grief has looked different, but I’m glad I’ve found words to share my heart.

I’m sending lots of hugs and lifting prayers for anyone who has lost a loved one who has died by suicide.

When a loved one dies by suicide

It is Heavy, Heartbreaking and Hollow.

It feels like a monologue. It boasts both a finality and list of pending issues.

It’s a list of instant changes with feelings jumping on a trampoline and then riding a roller coaster.

It’s the adrenaline surrounding the first couple of days until the funeral, and the empty silence that follows.

It’s the haunting of memories and loop of unfinished conversations.

It’s trying to understand and maybe even rationalize a pain so deep that it consumes it’s bearer.

It’s accepting that even you couldn’t save them and how that makes you feel.

It’s loving quietly, questioning privately, responding boldly, and mourning personally.

It’s avoiding the shame narrative and choosing the light, choosing love, choosing hope.

It’s nursing heartbreak, finding words for the feelings of the heart, and learning to dance again even when the music stops and the rain pours.

It’s celebrating life even in the midst of the complexities of death.

It’s understating that grief is love with nowhere to go. One day you will smile again.

I Love You

Sometimes I think that I have so much to teach the girls, but the truth is, I also have a lot to learn from them. Their resilience, the way they keep no grudges, the way their eyes light up. The way they marvel at nature and find joy in the absolutely simple, mundane things.

They live in the moment, here and now. They repeat what they believe. They question with a desire to learn. They find comfort in the cradle of my arms.

This season has been quite something. Part of the journey involves being in a different town to seek treatment. Even in the difficult moments, I have seen God’s hand. Our family friends are hosting me while I’m in the city.

The last few days have been quiet, and their baby has been such a joy to be around. Randomly one day he walks up to me and says, “Auntie Ess, I love you.” I’ve absolutely been mushed. There’s a way he says it with conviction and passion. Once is never enough, he will repeat it in the sweetest voice.

Children learn through repetition, and perhaps we need to be as relentless in our repetition of what is true and what is good, too.

Others were given in exchange for you. I traded their lives for yours because you are precious to me. You are honored, and I love you. ~Isaiah 43:4 NLT

Perhaps we should hunger to believe truth, seek it and be satisfied with the love around us. As I’ve read verse 4 today I have wept over God’s declaration of love for me. He shows it, He sees it and He is love.

Even when we don’t see it or feel it, He is still working all things for our good. We can trust His heart and love for us.

“I love you’ ~ God