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”

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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.

elmer

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

IMG-20180226-WA0012.jpg

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.

 

 

 

Drips and Crayon Fights

I smile to myself as I hear the girls fighting over crayons. A genuine happy smile, I can’t quite remember how many times I have smiled in the last couple of days.

‘My crayon!’ Ksena says as Ky runs away with the green crayon. Ky isn’t really into coloring, but she wants what Ksena has. Ksena, on the other hand, wants to color in peace but Ky would rather flip the pages of Miss K’s coloring book.

We do not encourage fighting, but it is so good to have them back to their normal selves. It’s been a tough start to 2018 with all of us unwell. We’ve seen enough of needles, drips, medication, and hospital walls for 2018. I’ve worried and prayed and experienced peace.

God made a way, that’s the only reason that I am even able to share here. Those days felt very dark and scary. I realized how much I don’t have control of, and there are a lot of things on that list. Even in the darkest moments, I draw my strength from my faith in Christ.

For those who are in the midst of a trial, I pray that God will be close to you, may you see His hand sustaining you, holding you and loving you.

Baking in PJs

“Call me Chef, I am not Ksena anymore,”

I smiled and responded, “Yes, Chef!” and we started baking.

I absolutely love this toddler stage where we can role play. It is so much fun to watch and interact with her, as I understand her thought process. We take on many roles during the day, sometimes we are cows mooing about other times we are dainty ballerinas tippy-toeing about. But the status of our hearts remains: overflowing with joy!

A few weeks ago, we woke up as Chefs. With a cookie bake calling our names. I told Ksena that we’d bake in the afternoon and then something came up. By evening, all she was asking is, ‘Mummy, can we bake our cookies now?’

Promises to hope are like sugar to blood, they make its levels spike instantly. When you give your word to a child you see their hopes rise and their faces shine. After shower hour, clad in PJs, we went to the kitchen and baked cookies. It was way past her bedtime but we baked vanilla, choc chip cookies and she ate one and slept soon after.

As I reflected, baking cookies felt a lot like some of the dreams and desires that I’ve had. I’ve lost hope as I have worn my PJs and felt like time had run out but with God, it is never too late. Our man-made timelines do not limit his power. He is sovereign still.

Happy New Year!

New Living Translation
Ecclesiastes 7:13

‘Notice the way God does things; then fall into line. Don’t fight the ways of God, for who can straighten out what he has made crooked?’

Here’s to a year of seeing how the Lord does things and aligning ourselves with His will.

 

 

Happy Feet

The Sun has inched a little closer to the Coastal city. We are back to the hot season where you look at your children’s water bottles and cups every hour to make sure that they are hydrated.

Thankfully, the girls like water. Drinking and playing with water, anything to do with water, really. In another life, they would probably live underwater and play with all the multicolored fish. Their love for water inspired my first Children’s book that comes out in a few weeks, I am beside myself with excitement.

I marvel at people who are able to drink one glass of water a day. If I did that, my skin and hair would announce it to the world. I drink at least 8 glasses of water a day and still battle acne.

A few days ago, when we went out to get a few things, we saw a Penguin water bottle that had Ksena on her feet with glee. We’ve been looking for some portable bottles for the girls to help them drink more, and these ones looked perfect. When we got home, we cleaned them up and filled them and the girls drunk a lot, Ksena even asked for more. Nothing had changed, the water was the same water that we drink every day but they drunk it so well.

I was studying John 4 on a really hot afternoon that had me back and forth from the dispenser. As I filled my glass and watched the bubbles go up, I thought about how water hits the spot. I have tried soda and juice on a really hot day but good old water remains the thirst-quenching-champ.

Sometimes, when the trials and monotony of life hit we are tempted to look for something sweet to quench our thirst, but the truth is that they can’t do what the Living water can do. They can’t nourish our inner parts so our thirst remains.

Like the girls, sometimes all we need is a change of bottle or a straw to jazz things up. And lots of water, the living water.

My new ‘Penguin bottle’ is The Everyday Life Bible featuring notes and commentary by Joyce Meyer. I am really enjoying my quiet time and dancing with Happy Feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Letters of Coffee

Every time I complete a manuscript joy rises within me, it is one thing to have an idea and another to write it down in a way that flows, to tick all the boxes in my writing to-do-list. Last week as I looked at the final manuscript of my book, Ky hurriedly crawled to help me type and accidentally knocked over hubs cup of coffee and it flooded my keyboard. The caffeine kicked in instantly and had some keys working on overdrive, this must be how coffee affects our brains, makes us enthusiastic. Caffeine makes you alert, you have an answer to the question that you are yet to be asked.

My manuscript looked something like this:

coherent words….

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn//////////////////////////////]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] to infinty.

Plus the delete button was not working. I was stuck with ‘highlight+cut’.

It was not funny at the time, but you are allowed to laugh 🙂 I am learning to take things as they come and know that God has my best interests at heart.

Hubs and I keep saying, half-joking, that we know who the writer will be among the two, Miss Ky. She is my writing sidekick, constantly typing, trying to read (and eat) my books. She has tried to write her own paragraph as I have typed this.

Bishop T.D Jakes and Pastor Steven Furtick have done a recorded a sermon on Entrepreneurship. One of the things that T.D Jakes says is that we have been called to be fruitful because we are filled with seed. You can’t bear fruit if you do not have seed within. If the seed is not nurtured in good conditions it will not grow. He added that through his sermon he was spraying fertilizer on dormant seeds. You are born with more than one seed in you, do not let the world tell you that because you have an Apple tree you shouldn’t let the Pawpaw tree grow.

It is important to identify the seed that the Lord has placed in your child so that you can put them in spaces that allow them to grow. As I sat there, the seeds in both of my children came to mind, and God unveiled them for me to see that they were not just coincidences but the seed that needs to grow.

 

Parenting is a partnership with God. It is asking the Lord to give you grace, wisdom, and patience to raise the child that He has entrusted to your care. As I identify the seeds in the girls, I pray that I will see the dormant ones in my life and let the Lord water them that they may grow for the glory of His name.

Here’s to bearing fruit and fruit that lasts.

 

Buckets Of Love

“But these shoes don’t match my outfit, Mama,” Ksena said as she removed the pink Crocs.

“Go and ask Daddy what he thinks,” I said as I tried to get Ky ready to leave the house. In the background I could hear hubs and Ksena discuss her outfit, he thought that the shoes matched her top but Miss K preferred the blue shoes because they matched with her skirt.

At 7:30AM, I have bigger battles to fight other than color coordinating outfits, but isn’t it amazing how toddlers apply their knowledge into every situation. Learning colors is both a life skill and a wardrobe fundamental to avoid color clashing . Yesterday morning she insisted that she had to wear the skirt with beads, as I watched the minute hand sway on the clock, I let her wear the skirt.

One of my fave pictures of Miss K and Ky is them sitting on the beach, clad in dungarees and pink tops, playing with their buckets and shovels in the sand. Other than the fact that I got them matching outfits, I don’t do it often, but it’s my little way of seeing what life would be like if they were twins, hats off and lots of grace to mothers of multiples, you are heroes; this picture is the perfect reminder of sisterly love, them sitting next to each other and playing. When they see each other after playgroup they elatedly run and hug each other. Ksena doesn’t take jokes around her sister remaining behind with someone kindly, she stops what she is doing and goes to her sister and calls out for help. She is protective. Earlier today,  Miss K told me that Ky can go with her to school and stay in her class. She convinced me that she will take care of her and tell her friends to play carefully around her because Ky is delicate. I smiled as I drove.

Their bond is admirable, it reminds me how we ought to take care of each other and love on each other. A few weeks ago when Ksena had an opportunity to pick one toy and  she chose something for her sister instead, it really touched me, I saw love in action, a tender care that came from deep within. This is not to say that I would have judged her for choosing something for herself 🙂 but Ky was so mushed and happy when she saw her stethoscope.

Differences are present, my referee whistle has not been shelved as they do not always agree on who should play with the toy first, but their love remains. Oh, that our love for each other will remain as gentle, pure, caring and precious as theirs.

Where Fish Hide

“But, I’m not a Fish,” Miss K replied with a look on her face that might as well have said, ‘I think you need to adjust your glasses mama, I don’t have gills, fins and pouted lips,’ as she blinked widely.

I chuckled within. Our conversations have been so interesting the last couple of weeks, there have been many questions and very many opportunities to teach. You can guess that the conversation above had begun with a question, more like a series of questions.

“Daddy, where are the Fish?” Miss K asked as she pointed at the fish pond,

“They are hiding under the rock that is where they hide from predators,” he responded as he held her up in the air to see a little clearer.

As they left, he taught her a song titled, ‘I am under the rock’, it is an oldie. After doing the school run, hubs told me this story and I archived it under the folder ‘To be discussed later.’ Miss K has a way of revisiting things after a few hours or days. ‘I want to teach her Under the Rock by MWP‘ I said to him.

Later that night, she asked to teach me a song, and started to sing,

I am under the rock, and the rock is higher than me,

Jehovah hides me, I am under the rock,

Go tell my enemies I am under the rock,

Jehovah hides me I am under the rock.

“Ksena, you know Jesus is the rock, and you can run to Him whenever you feel scared?”

“But, I’m not a Fish, mummy,”

I had not seen that response coming. When I read this verse it all made sense,

Psalm 71:3 New Living Translation (NLT)

Be my rock of safety
    where I can always hide.
Give the order to save me,
    for you are my rock and my fortress.

Like Fish, sometimes life channels at us harsh circumstances, sometimes the elements are at their extreme, but through it all, we have a rock of safety where we can always hide. One who can give the order for us to be saved, One who is bigger than any thing that we will ever face.

As the Fish hide under the rocks when it storms or shines, as they pout and purse their lips in peace, I too will hide under the Rock and breathe and live in peace.

 

 

Bubbles In Her Belly

She swayed her legs like a little girl whose joy bubbled from her belly, though she was well over Fifty, the little girl in her was present. As she lay on her belly, she was lifted, her being leaped with joy. Her hair up in a bun, as her pen stroked the pages beneath her nose. She started slow as she looked around but once she got into it, she didn’t look up until she was done. The words came flowing, like water gushing through previously dry pipes. In that moment, the world stood still, she had found quietness in the midst of the activity around her, a moment of silence; she was on a date with herself, sorting through her thoughts,  finding clarity.

I smiled as I looked at the lady, her peace was palpable. The busyness of her surroundings did not affect her, she was constant even as the weather shifted. She was. The winds blew but she lay still.

Her image has replayed in my mind over the last couple of days, I’ve had a series of what feels like 26 hour days, where it is only by the grace of God that I’ve been able to balance all of the roles I play. As I’ve been immersed in my surroundings, answering to the ‘Mummy’ and ‘Mama’ calls from the girls, I have craved silence. A time to be still, to hear beyond the noise and then move and be present in the movement.

I went for a reading workshop a few days ago and one of the activities that the teachers do with the children is teach them how to be active listeners. They blindfold them and ask them to listen for a minute and say the sounds that they’ve heard. I tried it, and I loved the result. Sitting there and listening showed me that there are things I don’t hear when I am fixated on one thing and running from one thing to the other. In the silence, you celebrate diversity, you identify sounds that you’d not have picked up.

Yesterday I read a devotional online that highlighted Psalm 46:10,

He says,

“Be still, and know that I am God;

    I will be exalted among the nations,

    I will be exalted in the earth.”

Stillness precedes knowledge.

This hit home for me, it’s difficult to know God as you run around like a headless chicken. When you still yourself, you hear things beyond your environment, then peace and joy can bubble to the surface from the depths of your belly.

The Valkyries by Paulo Coelho has been such a heartwarming read in this season, as I search for stillness and practice the art of listening first before I run. It makes a great difference when you listen before you act.

Here’s to finding quiet, pursuing stillness in the midst of the chaos.

The Stretched Out Mama’s Melody

We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play the one string that we have, and that is our attitude.

These words by Charles Swindoll struck a chord within me; attitude matters. I’ve been missing on these lanes, mainly because life happened, I’d love to know when life doesn’t happen. It is not stagnant and that is the beautiful thing about it, it is fluid, and the sooner we adjust the better. You can’t remain an ice-block in hot soup, sometimes life is a lot like broth, it has some chunks that we like and others we’d rather do without, but we soldier on and chew those chunks because you can’t exactly be picky with broth, you take it as it comes.

One of the chunks that I love is that my girls are both toddlers. Where did time fly to? Just the other day, I checked in to hospital to deliver sweet little Ky, and now she is all grown. I have two toddlers, and I am here adjusting to all the milestones, it is surreal, a beautiful blessing to be part of.

The skipping of naps though, is one of the chunks I would rather do without. Nap time is half time in my day, when I can recharge, think and write. It doesn’t help that they wake up before Mr Sun has worn his yellow coat, it is usually bright but still dark. One day of less-than-what-I’d-consider-adequate sleep is fine, but a week of that, has me pulling a my recovering hairline, bubbling with negative emotions and questioning myself. This is the roller-coaster of being a mama in this season.

Thankfully, by the grace of God, lest I take any credit, Ky is sleeping better at night. She is self soothing, waking up once a night is much better than the night time circus we had going on, with her jumping up like Jack-in-a-box every other hour. To God, I say “THANK YOU!”, I know I rambled about my lack of sleep here before.

On a lighter note, I hang out with a group of mums last week, bless them, and we concluded that God made women adaptable to sleep deprivation. Regardless of your gender, sleep is important, no-one was made to zombie around full time.

My attitude is under construction, it is an area that needs some divine help, but I am taking it a day at a time. I am certain that next week I won’t be where I was a few days ago. It is what I have within my control, the string in my hand, I’ll play it each day and create a beautiful melody note by note.

 

Borrowed Eggs

Sunday naps are beautiful, refreshing, not too short that you wake with a headache and not long enough to turn you in to a night owl after dusk.

The one day that I hope and pray that my girlies will take a nap is on Sundays, nap time is usually my golden hour(s) of peace. The rays of the sun warm the room, the birds chirp melodiously outside and for a few prolonged minutes the thought of Monday doesn’t cross my mind. I can think. I can breathe. I’m at peace.

Before I had children I didn’t used to take my siesta time as seriously, I’d watch movies instead of sleep, now, I sleep to recharge and I wake up with a rekindled love for life. My siesta is therapy for my soul.

Yesterday, Ky refused to nap. Forty-five minutes of my siesta time was spent trying to convince her to sleep, but curiosity trumped sleep, so she hang out with daddy as Miss K and I slept. It was such sweet sleep.

When Ksena woke, I was on the phone, so she went to join the fun part of K squad ( daddy and Ky). Nobody told me about the 3 year growth spurt, where the appetite of a teenager lives within a toddler. I often hear the words “Mum, I’m still hungry,”, I am waiting to see her chunking up. After naps she wakes up hungry, ready to eat whatever she finds.

When she walked into the room, they exchanged pleasantries with Ky being happy that her sister and friend was now awake.

“Ksena, what would you like to eat?”

“I want,” she said as she paused to think, “The egg Shiku (Kyria) likes?”

“Which one?”

“Borrowed eggs.”

Peter looked at her, processing her strange request for borrowed eggs and then it hit him that it was boiled eggs. I guess she always hears something that sounds like borrowed (homophones and toddlers are chuckle-worthy series of posts for another day.) She likes boiled egg whites but won’t touch the yolk because it is, wait for it, dirty. Yet the dirt is not an issue in sunny side ups, omelets or scrambled eggs. Toddlers!

As I reflected later that night, I realized that there are so many times that I go to God asking for things but using the wrong name. I was comforted that because He is my father, He will know exactly what I mean and give them to me according His will and in His time.

What a beautiful feeling it is to know that we have an open invitation to the King of Kings, and we can share our heart’s desires with him, both the polished and the unrefined, and though we may stutter or say the wrong thing, He will understand.

He will not give us borrowed eggs that we will in turn have to repay, he will give us boiled eggs.

 

“No-You-Didn’t”

As a mother, the first six months of a child’s life are the most stressful. It’s not necessarily the child, but the way that the hormonal imbalance makes me perceive things, post-partum blues are real. Colic and reflux seem like the Himalayas at the time, while in retrospect they are more like Ngong hills.

When the hormones balance out, I begin to see the Sun on the horizon, I hear the birds chirping, I feel the stone I kicked stub my toe, I feel the velvety softness of my baby’s touch, I laugh from the depths of my belly, and the extra weight begins to go.

I can see clearly.

Having two little ones with a small age gap, well, small is relative considering it is a two-year difference, can be hard. But, as they grow they become friends, they can play together, they desire to spend time with each other and it is so beautiful to watch.

Until they fight.

And when they fight I become Mama the ref, my titles increase, and I realize that being younger doesn’t necessarily equate to being innocent. The transition from innocence to knowing what is right and wrong, well a little of it, happens overnight. But the coos, giggles, and smiles remain constant, so it is easy to be led to believe that the little one doesn’t know what she is doing, but she does.

Sharing doesn’t come naturally, saying ‘please and thank-you’ is not part of the default settings of a human being, and there lies the work of a parent, repetition, trying to constantly draw them back to where they need to be.

Ky was not ready for the responsibility that comes with knowing right from wrong. So she pushes the boundaries, and when I say ‘No thank-you Ky, please don’t bite your sister,’ she wails, her soft smile turns into a ‘ no-you-didn’t ‘ kinda wail.

She takes offense.

Looking at how she deals with the correction made me reflect on my life as a child of God. Watching how overwhelmed and upset she becomes looks very familiar to me, the stories that I made up when God said ‘No’ suddenly come flooding into my mind. At the time, I didn’t care that He was right, all I wondered is why He would want to hurt me, to hurt my feelings. Yet all He was doing was for me.

As parents, we correct and discipline because we love our children and want the best for them. God is no different, if anything, it is He who set the example that we should follow. My challenge to myself is to be less offended and begin to see the correction from His perspective, after all, it is for me.

The beautiful thing is that in two minutes, Ky forgets that she was upset and even goes to play with her sister. She’ll flash me a two-toothed smile, nod her head and then charge towards Ksena laughing.

Perhaps this is why the Lord desires for us to remain like children, that we will know at the bottom of our hearts that we are loved and that He disciplines us because He loves us.

 

Cocktail of Balance

No two households are the same, that is what makes marriage a cocktail of balance, it is half-cup of what you love, a dash of what you both like and half-cup of what your spouse loves, sprinkled with some happiness. You and your spouse may have been raised in the same town, estate and even gone to the same school and church but once you shut the front door, the law of the house prevails. Your parents rule the empire.

When Peter and I were dating, we talked about pretty much everything under the sun, well, many things under the sun, the things we haven’t talked about I trust that we’ll have many more days by God’s grace to discuss. One of the ‘hot topics’ was birthdays, where I shared my expectations based on the culture in our home. His family didn’t use to celebrate birthdays, you could easily forget a birthday, while we in the Mbugua household used to countdown to birthdays, it was an annual excuse to binge on calories and get presents.

Our tradition in the K household has largely been influenced by my expectations, remember the cocktail of balance? This is the cocktail at work. Over the years, my expectations and traditions have changed. It’s become less of an outward celebration and a lot more of introspection, sort of like new years eve for many people. The eve or morning of my birthday is a time of quiet reflection where I thank God for the year that has been, start a new journal and set one goal for the year.

Last week as I ushered in a new year, my heart was filled with gratitude. Looking back at the year that was had me in tears, I was so overwhelmed by the Lord’s goodness and sustenance. Part of my reflection was choosing contentment.

Over the last year, I have watched my contentment seep through my fingers because I’ve been too busy looking around me to really see what was in my hands. ‘Happiness is an inside job’, you can have ‘perfect’ conditions and still be unhappy, it’s a choice, a deeply personal decision to rejoice regardless of the circumstances.

‘Anger is cruel, and wrath is like a flood, but who can survive the destructiveness of jealousy?’ Prov 27:4

Many times I blame the devil for my discomfort, but to be honest, many times I am unhappy because I’ve brought it on myself. I chose to admire the grass over the fence instead of asking myself how I can best grow my grass.

I’ve adapted a verse for this year, ha! it sounds cliche, but let’s see how it goes, ask me next year, won’t ya?

My goal is to stay within the boundaries of God’s plan for me (adapted from 2 Corinthians 10:13b NLT)

Psalm 16 is one of my favorite Psalms, for me it embodies accepting God’s perfect will for my life, acknowledging that He loves me and cares for me while choosing to thrive where He has placed me.

I do not know what the new year holds, but I do know He who holds me.

Here’s to contentment by choice.

 

Broccoli

After an hour of being  frustrated by internet speeds and Survey Monkey that wanted to re-think every instruction that I keyed in, I was happy to see Ksena when she walked in.

“Ksena, can I serve you some lunch now?”

We exchanged pleasantries as she told me all about her day. The pink sticker on her arm made her particularly happy. On Tuesday she had a nappy-haired super hero who cheered her up despite being under the weather. Today she has a blonde princess whose great at tidying up.

“Ksena, can I serve you some lunch now?”

“Mama, no thanks! I want broccoli.”

“Sorry, what?” I asked as I looked up from the screen. “I want broccoli,” she responded with certainty in her voice.

“But what about the food I’ve made. You like Chapo…” I said as I looked at her, “Yes, but I’d like some broccoli, please.”

In all humility, I went and made broccoli for her and served the florets in a bowl, she ate them with such glee, drunk her water and said thank- you.

Hubs found it strange that I was so shocked about what she wanted to eat, but I was so confused by her ‘I only want broccoli’ food preference. I introduced Ksena to broccoli a few months after we started weaning and she’s loved the little trees since. Broccoli reminds me of veggie tales.

As I watched her eat the little trees it occurred to me that if you give your body healthy things it will crave healthy things. In the same way, if you feed your Spirit the things of God, your Spirit will yearn for those things.

Here’s to craving broccoli for the body and its equivalent for the Spirit.

 

I Shall Wait On You

As my day slowly comes to an end

When it seems my strength is gone
As the hours seem to pass by slowly
When all I try just seems so wrong

 

Within my heart I seek inspiring words
A psalm that will lift my spirit high
For so often when I feel this tired
Even on my bed I have no desire to lie

 

I reach within my soul for divine energy
I seek with my inner voice to deeply pray
Finding I have such a great need of You
For Your soothing spirit to come my way

 

And as I pray silently and so sweetly
While I also gently embrace Your name
I find I shall always wait on You Lord
Knowing my happiness I will again regain
For You are the great power which saves me
The blessed assurance my heart only knows
And happily Lord I will always wait on You
Because with all my heart I love You so.

 

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015

The Waterfall

I put my nose on her head and took a deep breath, my lips curled into a smile as I took in a scent. The memories of our first weeks together flooded my memory, I cradled her in my arms as I thought about how little she was when she was born. “Esther, you have a baby girl. 3.2kgs” Daktari said as the tears cleansed my cheeks, they washed away the anxiety that I had been carrying around. Being pregnant was one miracle, a safe delivery for both mummy and baby was the other miracle.

That tear jerking moment was the first of many in our journey of getting to know each other. Our first few weeks were filled with awe of the Most High and sheer frustration, getting Ky to burp felt like squeezing toothpaste out of an empty tube, I rubbed the top of her back and the tail of the spine, sometimes I got a tiny burp other times there was nothing.

God forbid she did a proper burp, a waterfall of her milk followed, it drenched her clothes, my PJs, the sheets but it gave her relief. She would smile, and it would sort of melt the frustration away, that was until she got frustrated by my not-so-full boob that was the source of her milk. Night feeds were long, feeding every three hours was hectic and the reflux was discouraging.

As I carried her and enjoyed carrying a still version of her I realized that blessings don’t exempt you from struggles. When they come it’s good to remember that they won’t last forever. Now all I have are memories, we’ve outgrown the reflux and we are onto other struggles.

John 16:33 Amplified Bible (AMP)

33 I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have [perfect] peace. In the world, you have tribulation and distress and suffering, but be courageous [be confident, be undaunted, be filled with joy]; I have overcome the world.” [My conquest is accomplished, My victory abiding.]

Suffering, distress, and tribulation come in different shapes and sizes but God’s peace and courage remain readily available.

 

Mommy Brain

The number of times that I walk into a room to get something and then walk out empty handed because I forgot my mission is too many to count. I feel like I have a double of Mommy brain; before I fully recovered from pregnancy absent-mindedness with Ksena, I was pregnant with Ky, so it’s been three-and-a-half years of not quite remembering everything that I set out to do.

 

mommybrain2

mommynotions.com/mushy-mommy-brain/

 

I have just endured a wailing session of thirty minutes and I survived thanks to Mommy ears which must be an extension of Mommy brain, no? Yes, I just coined that phrase, but seriously, before I became a mum I would be distracted by every little noise around me, I had cat-like ears that picked up sounds around me. Now, I surprise myself, I can hum a full song despite the screams around me. I do not ignore the serious cries, but when it’s time for ‘scream-because-I-am-a-threenager’, well, I talk then ignore and discipline.

The mountain-sized mole hill today was that it was hair day, every time I brought up my plans to undo-detangle-wash-treat-and plait the hair I was met by “Sorry mummy, I’m not yet ready, I’ll let you know when I am.” At first, I said “Okay” as I thought to myself that I should be a little flexible. But the third time, I set a time and said that I’d do her hair at that time. You can guess that she wasn’t ready at 1:40pm, but I know her, and I know that evenings are not a good time to start the hair routine, so we sat down at 1:40pm and started.

As I was half way through detangling, she started pulling her head to the front, inflicting pain on herself. We had a little tete-a-tete about it, and she settled down. Then she started screaming cum shouting “Mama” over and over again. The screams were like Rock music is for a Rock lover, powerful beats, a colorful noise. As I watched it all unfold beneath my nose, I reflected on how it is to be a child, you think you know what is best for you but you don’t. In my walk with God, there are times that I have pulled away from the circumstances, little wonder why I felt the pain of the strain. I have procrastinated and deflected, made excuses as to why I shouldn’t be doing what God has planned for me to do.

As I looked at her, I saw myself and I prayed, that the Lord would forgive me for the times that I have thrown adult version tantrums and pulled away from His will then come back to tell Him how much pain He inflicts on me.

When I finished detangling and sectioning her hair, I put her to bed to nap. Immediately she was free, the ‘sleep’ disappeared and she’s been quietly playing with her little robot since.

That’s the thing about life, sometimes you think you’d be better off somewhere else doing something else until you get out there and see that being where God needs you to be for your good.

Rushing Wind

After an hour of chaos – screams, squeals, and cries- silence fills the air. It almost feels foreign, sometimes I count down to bed time, and then when they are both in bed, I miss them. I know, I too shock myself. My feet lead me to their room to watch over them and pray for them, there is something so therapeutic about watching sleeping babies lay.

When I held Ky in my arms, my being slowed down and enjoyed the rhythm of her chest heaving and I started singing a song out of the blue.

 

Like a rushing wind
Jesus breathe within
Lord have Your way
Lord have Your way in me

Like a mighty storm
Stir within my soul
Lord have Your way
Lord have Your way in me

(Hillsong -I Surrender)

Since we got back home a few weeks ago, the girls love to slow down where we are and fall asleep, there in the stillness, they find peace and are able to enter rest. A few days ago I realized that proximity brings safety. The verse, “Draw near to me and I will draw near to you.” made a lot of sense.

As we draw closer to the Lord, we feed off His peace, His tempo becomes our tempo and His Spirit edifies our Spirits. Our hearts and beings can only truly find rest in Him.

Sometimes I don’t have the right words to say, but I know that all that He requires of me is to just come.

While I’m Waiting

“It is not like we are waiting on someone who doesn’t have a track record of perfection. God’s resume is good enough for us to wait on Him.” Travis Greene

This is a summary of what I have been telling my heart the last couple of days. There are seasons in life that God makes you wait, as you wait it is easy to get discouraged and wonder if God has moved.

Over the weekend, after trying to meet twice during the week and not being able to, I had a beautiful meeting with a friend. We’d not talked in length for months and it was nice to catch up over a cup of tea. I don’t take for granted the preservation of the Lord, tomorrow is not a guarantee, yet the Lord kept us long enough to share of His goodness. She shared with me how the Lord had moved in her life, as I sat on her couch my spirit leaped within me. Her testimony ignited something in me, I kept thinking to myself “That is my God! The one who moves mountains and causes walls to fall.”

Mid conversation tears rolled down my cheeks, they were a cocktail of emotions- hope, relief, and awe. She shared with me how the Lord had moved in her life, in a way that we agreed that it could only be God. Only He has a track record of doing the impossible, of moving mountains, of parting seas. It was such personal proof that God is still work in this day and age. My heart leaped within me as I was sunken on the couch, the weight of my thoughts and anxieties could not hold it down, a fire, a hope had been ignited in me. I kept thinking to myself “That is my God! The one who moves mountains and causes walls to fall.”

I’ve been reading Chronicles and Jeremiah and God is a force to reckon with, He is God, not a man that He should lie or walk in confusion. As I read it this time, the scenes played in my mind, and I kept telling myself, “Look at God!” and as I sat there, I saw the handprint of God.

My prayer has been Habbakuk 3:2 (NLT)

I have heard all about you, LORD. I am filled with awe by your amazing works. In this time of our deep need, help us again as you did in years gone by. And in your anger, remember your mercy.

God is all powerful, there is nothing too difficult for Him! I believe and I will trust in Him. I still believe what my eyes can’t see.

This song by Travis and Chandler is on repeat, it is such an encouragement to me to keep waiting on the Lord and to trust in Him.

I know that I am not the only one whose faith falters. It is nice to read of the works of the Lord in the Bible, but sometimes you want someone to tell you what God has done for them in 2017. I would like to use this platform to encourage others, if you have a testimony that you would like to share with others, please send me an email via bibi2bee@gmail.com and I will publish it for the glory of His name.

For you who is waiting, I pray that this will be your testimony as you wait.

While I’m waiting I’m getting stronger
My faith is rising, and I will run on
While I’m waiting I’m lifting up on wings as eagles
I believe, I will trust in You

 

 

Choked

The lump in my throat felt like it had been chained to my molars, it didn’t budge no matter how hard I swallowed, the waves of water I drunk washed it but didn’t push it. It was stuck, and for once I was forced to confront it, see it for what it really was.

Earlier that day, I woke up to pray and I whispered a series of simple prayers, they weren’t seemingly ‘powerful’ command-the-morning, devil-you-are-defeated kind of prayers, though yes the devil is defeated. They were simple heartfelt whispered pleas said from a guarded but expectant heart.

“Babe, what happened to you?” hubs asked as we had our breakfast. “What do you mean?” I asked as I took a sip of my Moringa Hibiscus tea, “You used to pray a lot…you know you will stand and give an account for yourself as an individual,” immediately I heard these words the piece of sweet potato in my throat became harder, I felt like I was eating a sweet fibrous boulder.

“I am trying to get back there. I’ve been praying shorter prayers, but I am still at it.” I responded but the question lingered with me. As I went about my day, I sought the answer within, and I stopped when I realized what had really happened. I had been choked, to the point that I found myself gasping for air, sometimes my faith was even turning blue. It wasn’t because God or His word had changed, but I had shifted my focus. The worries of this world (that is soon passing away) had choked my desire, drive and resolve to pray passionately.

Motherhood has taught me that it is not only bad things that can choke you, even water and breast milk can choke a child, these are liquids that are meant to refresh. In the same way, the things that choke my faith are not necessarily bad things, in fact, some of them are the roles that I play as a mum and a wife, but that shouldn’t be an excuse. If anything it should be a reminder to always be sensitive enough to know when the balance shifts, to know when the water goes down the wrong pipe, to recognize the coughing spasms in my faith, the difficulty praying, and to ask for help.

Here’s to eating life with a big spoon, praying and not choking.

Blue Elephant

From the eyes of a child, the world is an exhilarating and sometimes scary place. Fear is sometimes triggered by the little things. During the last one week. Ky has been facing her fears and reservations towards the unknown. There is a little-stuffed cow that she’d not get close to, but one day she realized that it wasn’t so scary after all. The first day she went around it quickly and stopped one meter past it to see its reaction, it lay there helplessly. The second day she picked it up, tossed it to the side and zoomed past it, she knew that there was nothing that it could do, fear became a thing of the past.

This morning as we played on the floor she met a mummy and baby Elephant. Mama is pink and called Ellie while her litu one is blue and called Blue (I am taking suggestions for names for stuffed animals, some with a little flare.) Ky likes Ellie but she is terrified of little Blue, when I say terrified I mean, she will not let it get close to her and will shake if it tries. What I consider as a cute little blue Elephant seems scary to her.

That is the thing about fear, it’s deeply personal, it takes a different face as the seasons change. They may be little in the eyes of society but to you, they are huge and blue and they make your world come to a standstill. When you face them you shudder, you close your eyes so as to wish them away, and in that moment your grandeur means nothing because fear is raging within.

We often shy away from the pink Elephant in the room, but I think that we need to talk about the blue Ellie that’s in our minds, the one that makes us second guess ourselves and makes us shrink and retreat like a tortoise into its shell.

My prayer for Ky and myself is that our fears will not hold us, hostage, that we will be all that God created us to be. That we will take all the Blue Elephants into our hands, push them aside like she did to the cow, and zoom towards our destiny.

Here’s to fighting and winning the battles within because we know that greater is He who is in us than he who is against us.

Oh dear heart, take courage. Do not fear.

 

 

Play Dough

I made play dough on Saturday. I used strawberry-red food color and it turned out a shade closer to pink, but I am glad I made it anyway. As long as it is malleable, Ksena will be happy.

Ksena enjoys making tasty Chapatis when it is Chapo day, her rolling skills are improving with the practice she does on play dough. Maybe she will be the one who makes us tortillas when she is older; a mum can dream.

I’ve gotten really good at procrastinating. Overthinking has become a past time. Granted that it is good to think through what you are about to do, but what I’ve been doing is wearing my running shoes and then tying my laces together, little wonder that I fall down before I start to run. Then I quit.

Most of the play dough recipes require you to use Cream of Tartar (I know, it sounds like Tartar sauce). For the past year, I looked for Cream of Tartar in every supermarket in Mombasa, I even checked in Nairobi but it was nowhere to be found. So I opted not to try.

On Saturday, I decided to give it a try without the Cream of Tartar, it was evident that if I wait to find it I will never make it, also Ksena’s desire to mold isn’t going anywhere so I might as well get on with it. As I kneaded the play dough, the Holy Spirit prompted me to think of all the things that I have failed to do because I didn’t have perfect conditions, because I didn’t have the “Cream of Tartar”. I was humbled and embarrassed. The truth is I like having everything that I need and watching my ducks stand line quacking on key like a choir. But life doesn’t always work like that. Most times, I don’t have all my ducks in a row, in fact sometimes it looks like there is a chicken masquerading in the skein, clucking as the rest are quacking.

The truth is I like having everything that I need and watching my ducks stand line quacking on key like a choir. But life doesn’t always work like that. Most times, I don’t have all my ducks in a row, in fact sometimes it looks like there is a chicken masquerading in the skein, clucking as the rest are quacking.

Some of my obstacles seem silly, but I let them hold me back. I am reminded today to just do it, to chase the dream, to record those Vlogs, to write those books, to make the play dough without the Cream of Tartar and to always be malleable. Through it, God will be glorified.

You can follow my Vlog here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnmYUAAe-cc

Nap Time

Schedules are beautiful things. They make life predictable, and we all have something to look forward to. As a younger mum, I struggled to put Ksena on a strict schedule that had her in bed by 7:00 PM, it seemed like a dream. Three years later, 7:00 PM is still not happening, but we’ve found a time that works for her. Having a timetable of sorts helps us all manage our expectations.

Mornings are usually high energy, the girls wake up ready to play and squeal. It is the best time to have an activity. After lunch, when the post lunch fatigue sets in, a small scratch has them wailing, a friendly game ends in a torrent of tears. The cries are usually a good sign, it means that nap time has reached. Sometimes, I countdown to that hour where peace fills the air, where I can eat or read in quiet, but then I miss them when they sleep.

From time to time I think that maybe Ksena is ready to drop the afternoon nap, but deep within, I am glad that she still has it (on most days) because it is more for me than for her :). It helps her be less cranky in the evenings, but sometimes she is able to sail through without it. It gives me an opportunity to do what I want to do.

Initially, I used to sit in one spot as they napped and savor the silence, other days, I would run to bed and sleep. There is something so refreshing about naps. The other day, Ksena woke up and said, “Mama, I’ve not had my breakfast yet.” I looked at her very confused since it was 5:00 PM and the beautiful rays of the sun filled the room. “It’s evening, almost time for dinner. What do you mean?” I asked. “I’ve slept and woken up and Mr. sun is out, so it is time to eat breakfast. Mummy, I want porridge.” I chuckled as I followed her to the window where she pointed to the sun. I concluded that all naps should be like that, refreshing, rejuvenating just like a night full of sleep.

One of the things that I am hoping to do more of as they sleep is, write in their journals. I’ve kept a journal on and off for the last 18 years. Some I’ve destroyed, but the majority I have kept in a box. It’s amazing how far I’ve come, there are seasons where I’ve been more consistent and others where I’ve struggled to write altogether.  I know that I was born to write and as I use my time writing for other people, I have been challenged to write for my girls.

Let each generation tell its children of your mighty acts; let them proclaim your power.~Psalm 145:4

I’ve been keeping their journals for a couple of months now and it has been a wonderful journey filling the pages. I cannot deny the Lord’s faithfulness as we are raising them. Sometimes I wish I could share the stories with them, but they can’t understand just yet. As we read them Bible stories I want to pass on personal stories of God’s faithfulness and how He has moved in our lives, to share the miracles and testimonies, and explain to them how the hand of God has carried and sustained us.

My prayer is that as I use my pen to tell stories to the world, that my girls will see, hear and understand how great our God is.

 

Kaleidoscope

I fought the flutter of butterflies in my tummy as I stared at my computer screen. I shuffled between various tabs, and slowly filled in my registration form. I was anxious, scared and unsure of what having an online writing home looked like. I had tried to bury the desire to write for too long, this resulted in many half-filled forms suffocating in the closed the tabs.

“What is the worst that could happen?” my friend asked. Silence filled the room as I did the binary equation in my head. “Nothing,” I responded in a whisper and resolved to register my blog that very evening. And I did. I had a blank slate, an empty house, a shoe that I wasn’t sure that I fit in to, but there I was ready to walk into the unknown.

The desire to share my story overpowered the fear. It’s been six years since I started this blog. It has changed, I have changed, we’ve both grown. It’s been a beautiful journey. Initially, I wanted to share more about my wedding preparation experience, but I got caught up in life. Then it changed to sharing my reflections and random stories, and I have enjoyed that. I have discovered other interests such as teaching and writing for children. What was just a blog, is now a center piece of my calling to create content.

The greatest teachers I have encountered are my family. My husband’s resounding reminder to obey God has now become a part of who I am. I write now because I know it is what I was born to do. My heart beats, Ksena and Kyria have been an inspiration. As I train them up in the ways of the Lord, I am reminded that I have to walk the talk. Teach them to pour themselves out, so that they will return to their maker empty, having been obedient. As I stress (because that is what repeating myself to two-year-old feels like) the importance of obedience, I feel the Spirit nudge me and ask me, ‘Will you obey? Will you go where I  send you? Will you do what I ask of you?”

Two weeks ago, I caught Ksena sitting close to the edge of a bed from the corner of my eye as I tried to change Ky’s diaper, Ky is always on the move, unless she is sleeping. I told Ksena to watch out, her and hubs responded in unison that he was supporting her. The confidence with which she told me that ‘daddy’s got my back’ took me a back. It was a conviction. It got me thinking about my conviction regarding God’s position in my life. Do I know, like Chris Tomlin does, who goes before and stands beside me? Am I convinced that the Lord of angel armies is always by my side?

In February last year, I had a desire to start a new blog and create content about Endometriosis in Kenya. That is how Bibi2be’s sister blog Yellow Endo Flower was born.

It’s been an adventure, I feel more at home in my writing, but I know that this is just the beginning. I have seen the fruits of obedience, seen the Lord work through this written work, and enjoyed the peace that comes from having a clear conscience.

Six years later, I find myself at the same place, with a desire to start something new. Rather, with a call to obey, and go forth and create content. This time I am less inhibited by fear, I am conscious of the beauty of obedience. The impact a ‘YES’ can have. This time, the kaleidoscope of butterflies within has been quietened by the desire to obey.

As I have written this, I have started a YouTube channel, it’s been a long time coming. I welcome you to join me on my journey of obedience and faith. Here’s to living the life that I was created for. Here’s to dying empty, for the glory of the King.

Link to the first video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCQOngXT4WM&feature=youtu.be

Training Wheels

“Mama, just let her play with it.” Ksena said to me as we watched Ky attempt to eat board book. She’s teething, these teeth have been coming out for three months. Today, one finally broke through (cue ululations). I’m excited, I can’t say the same about my nipples and Ky’s earlobes, they are both about to be conditioned. Our toothless smile is turning into a two-toothed smile.

Over the last nine months, our home and hearts have been transformed. Yesterday as I watched the girls played, I said to Peter, that I almost don’t remember life before Ky came. She has warmed our hearts, her joy has radiated everywhere she has gone. She greets us with smiles every morning and wakes Ksena up by shouting, ‘Dada Dada Dada’. If Ksena wakes up before Ky, she asks two questions: “Where is my sister? How was her night?” once you have answered these questions to her satisfaction, then she asks you to pray.

Sisterhood has made Ksena more empathetic. Granted that there are times that I have to remind her to be kind to Ky, or to use her kind voice, being a sister has brought out a softer, caring and protective side. The transition from being an only child to a big sister has been smooth. Initially, there were a few regressions but all in all, there has been a lot of progress.

train up your child

Training a child in the way that they should go is like playing a cd on loop, both the audio and video. It is setting an example in speech and deeds. I repeat myself severally. When I am tempted to get frustrated and irritated, I remember the love and grace that the Lord has extended to me. Sometimes the bible seems repetitive, but we are children, the more we hear and internalize, the more we are transformed.

A few months ago, Ksena wasn’t bothered to learn how to peddle her tricycle. She preferred to be pushed, sometimes she would attempt to peddle while the bike was already in motion. Other times, she would just sit pretty and enjoy the ride. She wasn’t bothered that other children knew how to ride, one day, she woke up and peddled. Now she is ready for a bicycle with training wheels. The training doesn’t stop until she learns to cycle and balance on her own.

From time to time (more like every other week), I am asked a question that compares the girls’ development. Ksena’s teeth popped when she was much younger, but Ky has started cruising earlier than Ksena did. I am learning to let them grow at their pace. Growth is not a competition, everyone is on their own journey. What is important is that we all make it to our destinations, so we walk if we can, and crawl if we must. As long as we don’t stop moving.

Our girls were dedicated to the Lord this past weekend, it was beautiful and powerful service. Aside from the emotions, we were reminded our mandate to train up these girls in the ways of the Lord. To speak truth into their lives. To teach them truth. It’s a huge task and responsibility, one that we cannot delegate.  Sometimes the task at hand seems daunting but we have to remember that we have an ever present help, a counselor, the Holy Spirit who leads us into truth. We continue to trust Him to reveal to us who they are as individuals that we may raise them with clarity just like Manoah and his wife did. I pray that they will walk in their God given purposes, that they will get to their destination with unwavering faith in God who formed them in my womb, for the glory of His name.

 

 

Ride To Heaven

Six years, three months and ten days ago my world came to a temporary standstill. The world was moving, but I was stuck. The clock was ticking, but I was fastened to the spot. Like a pendulum fastened to a branch, I would swing as the wind blew but my heart was stuck at the same place, at the point of grief. I was like a soldier in the army, mark timing, but thinking I was moving. My world shattered. I was heartbroken and I was selfish.

I read a blog post a few weeks ago that reminded me that parents are human too. I hadn’t viewed him as a human being. He was dad, my very own super human, not perfect, but he always had his strong face on even when his world was caving in. I wish I had seen his struggle for what it was, allowed myself to read in between the lines, and understood the circumstances, but I was too fixated on my own ideals.

Six years ago, I was a very selfish version of myself. As I grieved I thought about how my dad’s death affected me. But as life would have it, over the last six years, I have examined the situation from different angles. I was so upset that he wasn’t going to walk me down the aisle, especially since I had told him that I wanted to get married a few days before. It was my dream as a little girl to have him hold my hand and hand me over to my groom.

I remember our last hug, our last conversation, the way he called out my name, his laugh, his gaze, his gait and I miss him. I am tearing as I type this, but the tears are not as sad and bitter as they used to be. They are not hot angry tears, they are reflective tears. Tears that signify a longing that cannot be met. Tears that flow as peace floods my heart.

For weeks, I would dial his number out of habit. It took a while for me to stop drafting texts to him. When I finally deleted his number from my phone, I realized it was ingrained in my memory. He was absent in person but so present in my heart, I stored our moments, the things that I wanted to remember safely in a vault. The first couple of weeks, I saw his face when I slept. And then it faded, and I retrieved the happy memories and replayed them every time I thought of him.

A few weeks ago, my great-grandmother went to be with the Lord. She had lived to a ripe old age. My only regret is that she hadn’t met my little girls. The last time I was in Nairobi, we weren’t able to go and see her. We planned to go in August, but she didn’t make it to August.

‘Love now!’ is what I repeat to myself. There’s no day excursion to heaven. Once your time on earth expires, that is it. When a loved one goes to be with the Lord, they remain there, and you here, until your ride comes.

If wishes were horses, I would ride to heaven and give my daddy a hug, a big bear hug. Having been a mummy and gone through a few dark corridors, I realize, that it was so hard for him to be a dad when he felt like a skeleton on the inside. My hearts goes out to him. I wish I was able to be more, to understand more, to do more for Him. I miss him, some times more than others. From time to time I wonder how he’d play with my girlies, what his thoughts would be when he reads my manuscripts, I’d have loved to share my books with him. That’s water under the bridge.

Depression is hard. It’s dark. It’s lonely. It’s difficult trying to soar when you are tethered to the ground my the weight in your heart. Trying to be positive, when not even a glimmer of light illuminates within. Struggling to be strong for others because you are using all that you’ve got to hold on.

Today my heart goes out to those who are trying to be the best versions of themselves yet they feel like they are dying on the inside. To those who are clasping on straws, trying to stay afloat. To those who have been labelled and dejected. To those who are fighting monsters and battles unseen. To those who feel like there is no reason left to live. Today, I send you a ((big hug)). And I pray that as you read this, you will know that you are not alone. I pray that God will comfort you, reveal Himself to you and enable you to stand. How I pray that He will carry you through and out, in His time.

For those who are loving , please don’t give up on them. Encourage them and be present. Love now, hug now, because wishes are not horses, and it’s difficult to ride to heaven for a day. I pray that God will strengthen you and grant you patience and understanding.

Let’s all come in for a group hug, and purpose to love and be loved, till the ride to heaven arrives.

 

The Ark

After almost three months, of reading, discussing and acting out the crucifixion and resurrection story daily, we are now enjoying the action of the Old Testament. Once in a while, Miss K asks for ‘Jesus on the cross’ but we are now learning more bible stories and enjoying acting them out. A few days ago, Ksena and Peter read the story of David and Goliath and acted it out, it was YouTube worthy with 5 Stones as the soundtrack.

Illustrations bring the bible to life for little children. It amazes me how small details catch Ksena’s eye. The story of Noah and his ark is our new favorite. The questions have been hilarious.

“Mama, why are these men laughing at Noah?” Ksena asked as she pointed at Noah’s neighbors. “What’s so funny Mama?”

“They think that Noah has a wild imagination. They are surprised that he is building a big boat on dry land. He keeps talking about rain falling from the sky, yet these men have never seen rain. God waters the plants from the ground.” I responded. “Sometimes God asks us to do things that seem crazy, and not everyone will support us or celebrate with us.” I added as I unfolded the crease from the page.

“What happened next, Mama?” she asked as she turned the page. The next page had a picture of different types of animals entering the ark. The artiste used his palette well to show how detailed and colorful God’s plan is.

“Mama, look! There are the Giraffes, Monkeys, Lions, Birds, Cows, Dogs and Sheep.” she said excitedly as she pointed at each of the animals. “Mama, why is the tortoise walking so slowly? When will it reach the ark?” she asked inquisitively.

I chuckled, the look on her face told me that it was not a rhetorical question and the silence meant that it was not a monologue. Sometimes she asks a question and then has a back and forth with herself and ends up smiling, and I can’t help but smile back.

“The tortoise is not a fast animal. So it will walk slowly until they get to the ark. Noah will wait for them. When all the animals and Noah’s relatives are inside, God will shut them in.”

“But, Mama! I want him to go faster. I want him to run like a Cheetah!” she said as she mimicked how a Cheetah runs. My laughter filled the room.

“My sweet Ksena, God made us all differently. We may look a little different and walk at different paces, but we’ll all get there eventually. Can you imagine if we were all Cheetahs? The world would be so boring. There would be no cats to meow, lions to roar, dogs to bark and butterflies to show us some beautiful color.” I took a sip of water and then added, “We all need to accept who we are, that there are things we can and can’t do. And then we need to live our lives to the best of our ability. If God has decided, the ark won’t move until we get there. It is God who shuts us in.”

“Okay Mama!” Ksena said, “For today, I am a lion, ROAR and you can be a butterfly Hahahaha and I will chase you”. She got up and started chasing me around, and our hearts and home were filled with laughter.

 

 

 

 

On The Clock

I read a 350 paged book in a week, two weeks ago. It was so exciting. I got to enjoy the time travel that books hold. My imagination was tantalized. I was inspired to write and dream. I remembered my love relationship with books when I was younger, how I was never not reading something.

Then motherhood came knocking. Between sleep deprivation and mummy brain, I was down to reading the essentials: my bible, devotional, a few articles and my timeline. Looking back, it’s a little sad that my timeline seemed like an essential, but there’s an escapism that social media offers a new mum, especially in the dead of the night when baby won’t let go of the nipple. This was before I knew about training the baby not to fall asleep on the boob, or rather, before I learned the hard way.

Over the last three years, I have read extremely slowly. Started many books and failed to finish them. Re-started books over and over again, and settled on reading small, light books. I’ve judged many books by their covers and fonts. I’ve opened hundreds of articles on my browser, finished some and bookmarked others to finish some day.

Given the last three years, reading a novel recently was extremely exciting. I felt like I am back. I used to wonder how I would survive being a mum of two and still have time to do the things that make me happy, like reading. I remember hoping that a child came with more hours in the day, but I realized that motherhood is a lesson on time management. You learn on the job how much you can really do in twenty four hours.

Last week, I watched three episodes of a series, back to back. It was entertaining, but half way through I questioned whether it was the best use of my time. Before I became a mummy, I watched my fair share of movies and series. Then came motherhood, and a new schedule. Sleep, that I used to take for granted became a very precious commodity. My free time was used to sleep,  I was newborn hazing as my hormones turned my internal climate upside down. Well, that’s a good way to explain the blues.

The past three years have taught me a lot on love and the value of time. I think now is when I am getting the hang of the intricate balance of time management. Just because I stop, doesn’t mean that time does. I looked at pictures of Ksena and Kyria yesterday, and I was just in awe of how fast they are growing. Growth doesn’t happen in one day, growth doesn’t have a birthday. It happens each and every moment, in the background of the great and the mundane. It is present even when we are passive. It never stops moving, just like time.

My prayer over the past couple of weeks has been that I will live as one who comprehends the fickleness of life. That I will understand that my days on earth are numbered and live my best life now.

psalm 90-4

When we realize just how fleeting our days are, then we release ourselves to glean from and grow in wisdom.

 

 

Tangled

What is the deep conditioning treatment for the soul? What do you apply when your soul is like a big balled fairy knot? Which product has amazing slip but is strong enough to prevent you from sliding in to the pit?

I’ve been a naturalista for almost ten years. It’s been an interesting journey. I’ve tried everything from dreadlocks to an afro to a tapered cut. ‘It is just hair, it grows’ is the mantra that I live by. When I moved to Mombasa, I cut my hair. It was so freeing. I could swim everyday without worrying about how my hair would look. ‘Wash and go’ was the order of the day. Coco Chanel said a woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life. In my case, I found it too stressful to find a good hairstylist who understood why I didn’t want my hair blow dried before it was plaited. I opted to find a barber, hubby’s barber was an answer to prayer.

As a young girl, I loathed my hair being done. I was the classic example of the child who caused drama at the salon. My poor mama. She had to put up with my tears and tantrums. In my defense, there was nothing fun about the hot blow dryer being about one centimeter away from burning my ear. While rejoicing that my ear was still intact I had to put up with a hairstyle being done twice. ‘Pussy cat’ was the the most redundant hairstyle in my opinion. I hated having to be plaited the same thing twice. Undoing it was even more tedious.

Then God gave me daughters, two little girls. He truly has a sense of humour. I’m figuring out how to handle mine and now I have two more under my care. One who has the softest hair, so protective styles barely last a week. She loves to swim, so the chlorine has tinted her ends. And another little girl, whose hair is still on the way. It still fascinates me how two babies can be so different. God is amazing.  From His reserves of grace, He knows that I will somehow be able to do their heads of hair. I pray that none of them will be like me. (Mum, if you are reading this, again I say, I am sorry.)

Wash day humbles me. I’ve been protective styling for the last couple of months. It’s my new thing. Every time I take down my braids and detangle my hair, I am amazed by how the knots fall off. What blows my mind away is that God still knows how many strands of hair are on my head. He keeps up with the progress as I finger detangle my mane and sometimes I lose tens of strands.

Tender loving care is what my hair needs, I can’t rush the process. I learned the hard way that I shouldn’t comb my hair when dry. Somewhere in the discipline and routine lies the secret. If I neglect the process I end up with a matted mane. Fairy knots fused together, that cause lots of pain.

My soul care practices are not very different from hair practices. Sometimes I’m great at detangling my emotions, others, I walk around with my emotions in knots. Not knowing where to begin. Which product to use. Wanting to take short cuts, to avoid the hours spent pre-pooing, deep conditioning and moisturizing ( journal-ling, reading my bible, praying, reflecting and loving on myself) . “There are no short cuts.” I’m preaching to myself as a member of the microwave generation.

When I neglect my emotional well-being, I wake up shocked when everything is matted together. When the emotions that I’ve bottled up are tearing me apart, eating me on the inside. Corrosive and explosive. I’m a ticking time bomb feeling as though I could implode , yet I don’t know what the trigger is.

When I marinate in my thoughts and the darkness and confusion of my emotions, that is exactly what I spew. It’s ugly. There is nothing pretty about being tangled. Unraveling the knots is first for me, and then for those around me. Unless I allow light to penetrate the dark room, darkness will be all that I know.

Last week, at my lowest, I went out and had time by myself. I prayed “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.” (Psalm 139:23-24). Then and I sat and wrote. In those hours, I got a peek into my soul, and it hit me, that unless the lamp shines in to that darkness, I’ll never fully know the contents of the room.

Detangling of the soul is done in the stillness, away from the chaos of life. In the quiet, when His light shines you are able to see what lurks in the dark, and easily entangles you.

 

 

 

The Himalayas Of Insecurities

Before I had my babies, I thought I was a morning person, because I definitely wasn’t a night person. When the clock struck 9:00 pm, my eyelids would receive their daily load of sleep. By 10:00 pm, the weight of the exhaustion would break the imaginary toothpicks holding my eyes open.

Now that I have my girls, I have concluded that I am just a person who is able to adjust to different seasons. Sleep interruptions and deprivation is by far one of the greatest challenges that motherhood came with. I now understand how sleep deprivation is a form of torture.

I’ve had to adjust to late nights, waking up frequently, and somewhat early mornings. Our morning ride to playschool with Miss K is a time of singing, learning and laughter. We count, pray, go over our alphabet and sing (sometimes off key) at the top of our voices. I stick to the left and drive at 20 Kph.

Once in a while, there is a driver who is in a hurry to get to their destination, so their bonnet almost touches my boot. Initially, when she started school, I used to feel the pressure (that I put on myself) to drive faster. The times, I’d focus on driving faster, keeping up with a person whose journey and destination I knew not, I would lose the rhythm of the song that we were singing. I’d hit potholes and deeply regret.

In my journey as a stay-at-home mum, I have felt like a slug, covered in goo from all my crying sessions, inching along an Olympic track, as the rest of humanity, who I refer to as the ‘Usains’, bolt past me. And I am left behind, changing dirty diapers, dealing with tantrums, wiping running noses, still donning those nursing bras, covered in food stains while teaching shapes, colors, numbers and letters, pouring out myself in to my family while struggling to find me-time.

When I start to compare my journey I lose the rhythm of the music. I stop dancing. I lose my balance, and most times I fall into – the seemingly never ending -hole of self pity. Muddle in the pit of doubt and slide into the pool of questions. I struggle to stay afloat as I grapple with these questions:

“Am I where I should be?”

“Does what I do matter? Am I making a difference?”

“Will I ever catch up in my career?”

“What am I good at?”

Sometimes it feels like the fight of my life. It’s easy to descend into the pit. It only takes a few minutes to spiral down. Climbing up is no easy feat. My insecurities seem like the Himalayas, and I have to work through them as I sort the heap and layers of laundry.

It is hard and it hurts. The beautiful thing about rock bottom is, you can only go up. In the brokenness, there is beauty.

I am learning to stick to my lane and to embrace my pace. The reality is that there will always be people zooming past me. That is just the way life is. But they are on their own journey. It’s easy to covet their lives, but they too have their own struggles. And what matters most is that they are where they need to be. What matters most is that I am where I’m supposed to be. That I am watering and tending my lawn.

To avoid spiraling down to the pit, I have to keep reminding myself the truth, my truth in this season; why I do it. Why I strive to serve my husband and girls with joy, in this season. This role comes with no or low monetary pay, long hours and limited hours of leave. I believe that it is a calling. Some days are good. Some are gruesome. But I know that one day, I will look back and miss these days. One day Miss K and Ky will be all grown and I will be on to the next seasons. I’m listening to this song and reminding myself why I do it all.

To my fellow stay-at-home mum who has doubts her call from time to time. You are not alone. In the chaos and the monotony of routine, remember that you matter! You are making a difference. Your worth in this life is not equivalent to how much you earn.

 

 

How Not To Be A Cranky Mama

Over the last couple of months, I’ve learnt to be a little selfish. To take care of myself a little more. When I was a new mum, I sacrificed a lot of things including my well being. I neglected nourishing myself because I thought that pouring out was more important. Boy, was I mistaken.

Motherhood is sacrifice. A mother is a living sacrifice. Motherhood has a way of revealing your doubts, truths and values. It forces you to walk down memory lane and examine what happened and how it made you feel. It’s like a dose of strong coffee that has your mind multitasking and analyzing. You suddenly become aware of things that could have missed your attention and you have to answer the difficult questions.

Over the years, I’ve cracked how to be a cranky and angry mama by 11am. It’s really simple, skip breakfast, postpone doing your quiet time and fail to get some rest. Try this for a couple of days and you will acquaint yourself with your mean side. And, there are not many nice things about your mean side. At least nothing you’d like to write home about.

My mean side is horrible. I’ve realized that pouring out of an empty cup is dangerous for everyone. First, for me the giver and second for the recipients around me. I replay some of the things that I’ve said when empty, the attitudes that I’ve had towards myself and the situations at hand, and I can’t help but shudder in disbelief. Hang my head in embarrassment. It was bad. I was bad, really bad. I was a mum turned monster. Which was never my end goal. The thing is I couldn’t tell when it is happening, it was like a slow fade that transformed me into a bad version of myself.

It matters to my family that I am nourished- physically and spiritually. I can only pour out of what I have. The verse ‘Man cannot live on bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord. – Matthew 4:4’ reveals that I cannot survive on bread alone. To live well, we need to feed ourselves both physically and spiritually.

It is crucial that I have my breakfast (before lunch time) and spend time with God everyday. Sometimes I deceive myself that I am too busy or convince myself that the babies need me to hover around them. But the truth is that Miss K and Ky need me to be full.

They need me to be rested. I am a kinder and more patient mummy when I have had some rest. When I am sleep deprived, my fuse is short. It’s tempting to take out my frustrations on the people closest to me. I have learned that taking a nap makes me a better person.

Quiet time helps me to see my circumstances from God’s perspective. When I pray I invite the power of God in to every situation. Then I am able to walk with a spring in my step because I know that God’s got me. I am able to speak words of life,  to speak kindly, because I don’t carry any grudges and bitterness. I am able to be physically, spiritually and mentally present.

That’s the type of mama I want to be daily.

On that note, I’m off to hide and have my breakfast and quiet time because it is crucial for my sanity, blood sugar, faith, demeanor and the atmosphere in my home.

Blessings,

Bibi2be

 

 

 

Don’t Dull Your Shine

I have had my laptop for well over five years. It has served me well. I enjoyed it’s performance in it’s infantile years. One of the perks that have come with age, is the speakers are not working. That sucks. Ksena thinks so too. Yesterday, she told me, ” Mama, your computer needs to become younger so that it can play sound.” I laughed about it. My two year old’s thought process tickles and fascinates me at the same time.

As I reflected, I realized that unlike my computer, I won’t be able to buy a younger version of myself. There are things that I won’t be able to do when I get older. The question is what am I doing with what I have now?

The truth is that is so easy to have an excuse, even two, not to do what you need to be doing. For a long time, I used this same computer as an excuse not to write. It was foolish. My thinking and perspective in life has since changed. It’s about the end picture. It’s easy to do nothing, but nothing can’t make a difference.

I still struggle in certain aspects but I want the Lord to reveal to me the mighty things that He can do with the staff in my hand. It all boils down to stewardship and a willingness to do what I was created to do.

My prayer is that my life will model to my girls to live their best lives now. To obey promptly and not to make excuses. There will always be a reason not to do it, in fact it may be like a raging fire in your heart compared to the candle flame of your conviction.

I’m currently listening to Todd Dulaney live from Trinidad.

He who called you is faithful. He called you to be the light of the world so don’t let the excuses dull your shine.

Blessings,

Bibi2be

We Are Just Like Grasshoppers

One of the lessons that I have learned from toddlers is that we all have the tendancy to think that we are bigger and greater than we really are. Walk in to a playgroup class and you will see these little, budding, grown ups in small bodies, who sometimes think that they are grown ups.

Occasionally, I sit and stare at Ksena in absolute awe. My baby girl has grown up ( I know I say this all the time, but it’s true). Sometimes, she blows me away with all that she has learned in her few years on earth. I cherish the little conversations that we have, and I am slowly getting used to answering ‘why?’ over and over, every single day. It’s fascinating to see her thought process become more complex. She asks because she wants to understand.

Some days (seems like all the time nowadays) , she does things that test the boundaries (and my sanity). I refuse to call it ‘terrible twos’, because there is power in the tongue, I am sure that I don’t want to claim the terrible. It’s more of ‘testing twos’, in my opinion. We have to keep repeating and reinforcing the boundaries. And reminding her that she is still a child, she may be growing but she is still under our authority. In this year, I have understood this verse:

PROV 22-15

In my walk with God, there are times that as I have grown I have become more comfortable. The boundary lines could have blurred, or for a moment there I could have there I could have thought that I was bigger than I actually am.

As I read Isaiah yesterday, the Lord reminded me that as He looks down on us as humanity we look like grasshoppers. Grasshoppers!

For in him we live and move and exist. As some of your[a] own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring._

You struggle to worship and stand in awe of a god who you view as your equal. But, the living God is very, very, far from our equal. In fact, He keeps asking, ‘ to whom shall you compare me to?’. Whom have you been comparing Him with? Does your worship reflect your understanding of His magnitude?

Just like a grasshopper, is what we are in His sight. Beloved ‘grasshoppers’. When we see Him as He is, we can attempt to worship Him as He desires for us to. He longs for our eyes, minds and hearts to remain stayed on Him. Yes, we are in the world, but not of this world.

I’m currently listening to Todd Dulaney live in Ghana. We serve a GREAT God, and He deserves our praise.

I pray that He will release His favor, power and glory, that they, may rain on us.

Have a blessed week,

Bibi2be

Safe In His Arms

It’s not by chance that mama bear’s porridge was too cold when Goldilocks tasted it. One thing that I’ve had to learn since I became a mum is the art of eating cool (read: cold) food. It really is an art. For a long time, I preferred my food hot, now I focus on the end goal which is to be full. Hot or cold, I’ma eat it.

The truth is, I wouldn’t trade my lukewarm, mostly cold food for anything. The territory has come with many more blessings and I’m just in awe of the Lord’s sustenance. He has been faithful. I look back at the last couple of months and I can’t help but say ‘ Praise the Lord!’.

psalm 68-19

This verse is a perfect summary of the song in my heart. Sometimes I look back and wonder how I am still standing but the truth is that I have been carried. Like a child in her mother’s arms, I have been embraced, encouraged, cherished, cuddled, protected and nourished. Praise the Lord!

I’d like to share something my husband shared, that has been replaying in my heart.

K SQUAD CHRONICLES (HIS FAITHFULNESS) This week was my thirty something birthday, 5th marriage anniversary, and a few months short of our 5th year in Mombasa. Its a busy season of life (wife, kids, ministry, work and new projects etc) so I didn’t get to reflect about it until Friday evening. As I reflected on the journey, through the ups and downs,the stretching seasons (they seem many:-) ). I realized one thing is constant: GOD’S FAITHFULNESS. In our home we have a saying “keep the main thing, the MAIN THING!” Basically don’t lose focus on your main goal/goals or be distracted by the nuisances of life. My prayer is that I will heed the call and “Keep the main thing, the main thing! “For I know, LORD, that our lives are not our own. We are not able to plan our own course.”(Jeremiah 10:23)

P.S Whatever you have been procrastinating about, waiting on the right conditions to start or do, heed the call, jump in, for we are but a breath, here today gone tomorrow. (Psalm 144:4)


Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.

The truth is that I have so many dreams that I have been putting on hold, but tomorrow is not assured.

My prayer is that the Lord will teach me how to number my days. That I will walk in (prompt) obedience and let the Lord glorify Himself in my life.

If you would like me to stand with you in prayer, please send me an email via bibi2bee@gmail.com.

Blessings,

Bibi2be

Lessons From My Daughters (Pt 8) Love, Life & Sisterhood

We celebrated five years of marriage a few days ago. Where did time fly to? It’s a both short and long time. I will do a marriage post soon, I have to keep up with the tradition:). I can’t wait to read the compilation when we celebrate ten years of marriage by God’s grace.

marriage-be-like-Christ

As I write this, I’m wearing heels for the first time since I gave birth, Ksena says that they are my dancing shoes, so she helped me put them on. She saw some pictures of us during our wedding and she thinks that I am a princess. It’s so sweet. I’ve not refuted her claims, after all I am a Daughter of the most High King. What a beautiful reminder, that I need to put my dancing shoes on and dance to the music of life.

The K girls have blossomed, and I know that this is just the beginning but it is such a joy to watch them grow. In the coming months, Ky will be mobile and it should be interesting watching her follow Miss K, or not. I love that they are fond of each other. When Ksena wakes up, after her prayer she asks where her sister is. When Ky sees her she gives her a big toothless smile and chuckle. Ky has figured out that some days Miss K leaves her at home. Last week, she wailed when she saw me going to pick her up and we ended up going together.

sisterhood

There is a sweet sisterhood bond being formed here and I am super excited to see it grow and stick. As usual, these girls are teaching me a lot about life, faith and peace. This past week, I was a student in Miss Ky’s little class.

Where are they?

Ky loves to go outside. If you take her to the door she will prompt you to open the grill door, and take her out. Yesterday, we all went out and she was ecstatic as we walked out. She loved every second of being outside, the breeze and the branches swaying made her smile. She enjoyed watching Ksena and daddy run around. When it was was time for her and I to go back to the house, she kept craning her neck to see where Ksena and daddy were. Even as we closed the door she kept looking back and mumbling.

Leave no man behind.

An almost 7 month-old baby, demonstrated what it means to deeply care for and love someone. You need to check on them and see where they are.

I had a conversation with Peter two days ago about the importance of praying for people who are yet to receive salvation. And I wrote a list of people that I have committed not to ‘leave behind’.

Do not pass me by!

Ky is super alert, she knows who comes in, when they come in and when they leave. Every time that hubby passes by Ky, she immediately puts her hands up and starts mumbling to get his attention. If he doesn’t carry her or acknowledge her she gets upset and starts crying. She has learned how to cry with her eyes closed for emphasis 🙂 . I’m not sure where she picked that from.

When I’m home, I have to hide to write, because once she gets her eyes on me, she wants me to carry her immediately. Waving hi is not enough. Nah, she wants the full shebang. Now that I’m there, she is suddenly thirsty for milk.

It reminds me a lot of my walk with God. In fact the song that comes to mind is, ”While on others thou art calling, do not pass me by.” In many ways, I am just like Ky, it could have even become a daily prayer, that ‘Yes, Lord I can see you, and I would like you to call me by name and lift me up’. Ky reminds me that it is okay to call out. Just because I spent one hour with Him earlier doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t still desire Him. I pray that I will always look to Him to satisfy me.

I’m currently enjoying playlists by Worship Mob.

‘I want to know your heart!’

Have a blessed week,

Bibi2be

The Story That Never Grows Old

For the last one month, we have been reading the crucifixion story about five out seven days a week. Sometimes I want to read other stories, like Gideon and his three hundred me. But, Ksena won’t have it. She wants ‘Jesus on the cross’. Sometimes she is nice and lets you read the story you want, and then politely reminds you that she would still like Jesus on the cross.

After reading the story over twenty times, and asking the Lord for new revelation, it was getting kind of old. I mean, we are not even transitioning to the Resurrection, we have been at the cross for one month. One month. Attempts to transition us have been futile. In fact yesterday, Ksena asked me ‘Where is Mary as Jesus is hanging on the cross?’. It looks like there is a lot more to unpack from the two pages. There’s a lot more that I can allow the Holy Spirit to reveal to me.

Yesterday, I read a quote that rebuked me.

familiarity

Selah!!

Have I become so familiar with the cross that I am complacent? In the sense that I am not constantly keeping my eyes at the cross, and leaving my burdens at its base.

Tonight I’m going to read the story of the cross again, this time, as I ask the Lord to always be the center. As I read, my prayer is that I will not be distracted by the things, pressures and pleasures of this world. That I will always remember that I was bought at a price, for the glory and honor of the King.

I’m humbled that the Lord has used this story that Ksena can’t get enough of, to remind me that my mind, heart and being must remain stayed on Him.

Which story are you currently reading? What is the Lord currently teaching you?

Blessings,

Bibi2be

From The Mouth of Babes, God Speaks!

As I write this, I am hiding from the girls. I love them to bits, but today I am taking a small break, to write and also miss THE hour. You know, the hour when they fight sleep and end up being a little feisty.

About two weeks ago, I had one of those days when I was weary. I had given all that I had and was ready for bed but the babies had extra energy. I whispered to heaven, “Lord, does heaven deliver chocolate cake and hugs?”. Then I heard nothing. I’m not too sure what I was expecting to hear though. Though a direct delivery would have been heavenly, see what I did there? 🙂

There was no time to sit and sulk. The evening routine had to be done. The girls don’t care about my internal atmosphere, they just want mummy, to read them their bible and pray with them before bed. Speaking of bible reading, Ksena’s current favorite story is Jesus on the cross. She asks for it each and every day.  Initially I struggled with how to answer all her questions. I was not exactly sure how to simplify death and resurrection or how much her two year old mind would understand. But, I decided to tell her the truth, biblical truth and let the Holy Spirit do the rest. Mine is to sow seeds and pray that it lands on good soil, and the Lord, the gardener, will water the seeds and that they will grow. In this season, I have been increasingly grateful for the Holy Spirit. John 14 and 16 are dear to me.

ps 119-11

Look at me digress 🙂 That evening, after we’d read the story of Jesus on the cross, Ksena started singing. Mummy, “Hear Christ calling, ‘Come unto me, and I will give you rest.’ ” She sang it over and over again, and it got my attention. I heard loud and clear that the rest that my weary and somewhat empty soul needed was in God. I slept smiling that night. Exhausted but at peace.

I currently cannot get enough of this song. It is my prayer.

Acts 3 comes to mind and it reminds me that when the Spirit comes, you overflow. You cannot remain the same.

Eternity is but a heartbeat away ~ Cornelius Lindsey.

We were created to worship God. It won’t start when we die, it will be a continuation of what we have been doing here on earth. My prayer is that my life song, our life songs will be acceptable to Him.

Blessings,

Bibi2be