Valentines and the single lady…

“Love is a magical feeling and by all means  totally incredible! We long to be loved and enjoy the affection as human. However, as a modern day Ruth, I want you to know that you are complete in Christ, lacking in nothing. Yes, your singlehood is not and will not be a state of inadequacy. Never! That is a lie of the society and the trap of the enemy”

 “Phewks, it is here again🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (Rolling eyes) and God knows I could do with some hibernation until the hype is over.” sulks Heav. “I just want to go to Mars”, she simply said. Well, it’s here with us again; that time where like my friend Heav, most single Christian ladies would wish that romantic love wouldn’t be overrated to an extent that you feel inadequate in your singleness. You know, that feeling like you have been away in Mars and missed half a century of life on earth that you need to catch up on. Falling in love and posting pix of you and yours become the in thing. That almost every update is about my Bae.💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Like Heav and many girlfriends who are bold enough to speak their hearts out, truth is, we feel out of place whenever February ticks and you realize, “damn, am gona be spending this valentine alone! “

Like any girl, we dread sitting by your office buried in work just to avoid the glamor around and excitement amongst most engaged chaps. Deep down, you also long for someone to call you late-night and tell you sweet nothings, falling asleep with someone’s voice being your lullaby. You know, that you too can leave work and be met with a coronet of roses from your bae, some random “I am thinking of you” texts or shared time of intimate dinner and affirmations of your love for each other! Sounds great, every normal girl’s fairy tale and fantasy I suppose. And sometimes the ache in your heart nags at you and reminds you of the love you used to have. Unfortunately, some nights you fall asleep with tears running down your face but you don’t let anyone know coz you trust in His promises.With Christ,life gets beautiful somehow like the ecstatic sunset over the Indian Ocean at Watamu.

Beautiful sunset in Watamu

They say all human being crave for love. We want to feel wanted and loved; to be told we are amazing; Pretty much normal but even crazier with women. Jane Austen writes “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.” This explains why I address the ladies in this piece. Well, this Valentines, I too will be alone. Ouch the thought of it already sucks but that’s just the way it is, lol. I would appreciate roses, maybe a simple cake from Caffe deli or perhaps some chocolate, hold hands with someone special and just feel nice…hehehe but I guess after a normal day at work, I will head home.  In my comfortable bath robe, I will be strumming my guitar and guzzling steamy coffee as I sing hymns that remind me that am loved by God so deeply” Walking in faith is great. Instead of feeling empty, I will be experiencing the power of God’s love envelope me as I sing lyrics of deep hymns like

I stand in the Garden alone, when the dews are still on the roses,

And the voice I hear, falling on my ears,

The son of God discloses,

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me that I am His own,

And the joy that we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

Such overwhelming words of assurance and pure undefiled love; A Fathers love, a friend’s love, a saviors love, the God kind of love that last for eternity. The love which I can only define with one adjective, unconditional!  That love that Paul the Apostle prays we experience.

Ephesians 3 “And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”

A little wading in the waters

That love; pure bliss for anyone whose eyes have been opened to the love of God, the unadulterated love

You may say that I am lonely but I will say it’s not true. I possibly could be overwhelmed by feelings of aloneness but certainly not lonely. I know for a fact it could be more beautiful with a fleshy and I mean a man’s fellowship with warmth and physical conversation but that is not to say I am lonely. It’s possible to be alone and not lonely. He is there with me. Late into the night as stars make their grant entrance, I sing and make music unto Him and I feel His invisible hug around my shoulders. His silent affirmations of love incomparable; Love that protects, love that shields, love that comforts, love that forgives, love that heals, love that rejoices, love that feels all voids, love that fades not, Love unconditional.

He reminds me that” For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity dwells in bodily form. 10And you have been made complete in Christ, who is the head over every ruler and authority”; that in Christ I am complete lacking in nothing and that is peaceful enough.

The season of romantic love in the air cannot and should not elevate the mindset of inadequacy as a single Christian lady. I am blessed and complete.

Madafu time

Pretty much, I may be indoors missing the company of Bae but in all sense feeling complete inside. The feeling of having someone share your life, excitements, joys and fears is great and I am definitely eager about that experience. However, am equally glad am complete in Christ even in his absentia. When he comes, then he will compliment me. I will be thrilled to stay late into the night talking to him, I will be excited to hear him call me his chere’ and certainly will enjoy the new season with another adult who is not my family becoming a priority all of a sudden and hopefully, I will in effect be jolly to say I do to him and give my beautiful smile to the crowd as my daddy walks me down the aisle towards the lucky guy..lol.

Boardwalk at Mida Creek

Meanwhile, let’s do something unique like going horse racing down in Karen. Touch the dews, smell the roses and enjoy yummy creamy cake. It can be a good interest to pick instead of feeling lost in the Feb love hype.

Love God, love self, love others and before you know it, love will come knocking at the door. Girlfriends in God, you are not inadequate in your singlehood.

Yaay, love is in the air, great feeling indeed. Hope for the best, love unconditionally, wishing you love by the next fall so that you too can knot at Panary Anga Sky with yours, munching popcorn and critiquing a movie at the cinema with that “Boaz”.

Meanwhile, love your life, you are complete in CHRIST! Plus that means wearing ugly PJs and sleeping in the middle of the bed!yaay

From my heart to yours

Happy Love month pips!!💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I Will Never Lose my Praise...

If you are anything like me, you will agree that this is not out of space. I love to look myself in the mirror both consciously or otherwise. Even on the bank glasses or the lift. I like to look at the image I see on the mirror and tell the girl I see things. Sometimes I tell her she’s got what it takes and make her flip her hair self-assuredly when someone with an egocentric attitude tries to rubbish her off. Other times I just tell her how beautiful and pretty she rocks certain outfit or hairdo. I tell her dozens of things. Today though, I told her a different story. I told her that she is a strong woman than she could possibly imagine. I told her that I admired her strength. She didn’t seem to believe me though and when I said I mean it, she lost it.

At the office bathroom mirror, tears began to form in her beautiful eyes. She let them linger on for a few seconds but couldn’t hold back any longer. She has been too strong for others and no one has ever realized how feeble she is. I just let her cry. And she did. She needed support but not even this girl on the other side realized that. I told her that it’s going to be okay and that sometimes it’s okay not to be or feel okay. She lifted up her eyes and gave a quick and faint smile amidst the salty flow. She wasn’t sure of any words to utter in response. I understood her. I told her of the story of a man that I really love. Well, admire…love is a strong word that nowadays am very careful on the object I direct to. She listened while massaging the flat tummy. I wondered what raced through her mind while she did that. She sensed my thoughts but I shushed her lips with the tip of my finger…don’t I stopped her. But she didn’t. It was her way of easing her pain.

“He would always call me his pichouette , his magical chere’. It broke me when all that got lost.”

She loved him, he loved her but it wasn’t that simple.

This pichouette though surprised me and I thought I finally figured out why he chose to call her his pichouette. I was wrong. I didn’t know her very well but I knew the story of that man would help her.

So I began again. Chere’ this man is called Job; I read his story and it gives me magical strength. I told her of the Job in the Bible; A man who in Gods standard was blameless and walking uprightly. He lived right and absolutely no one will bet on their neck that he would be a candidate to suck kind of untold brokenness. In a span of 1 day, He lost all things that mattered. He lost His Position, People and Possession. “That is a huge loss in one sitting chere’ but his attitude is what keeps me going”

Instead of wallowing in pain, this, man whom I honestly resonate with shaved his head, tore his robe and began to worship God. Like who does that really?

Job 1:21-22

  At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship ²¹ and said:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
    and naked I will depart.^[c]
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
    may the name of the Lord be praised.”

²² In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.

This man was broken. A good man in God’s own account but in his most painful state, his lips did not lose Praise. Eventually, His unstoppable praise opened his breakthrough. In the end, God restored all that was lost, Position, People and Possession and Job’s latter day was better than the former.

 I told her she has not lost it all. Then Chere’ looked up from the mirror, her eyes misty with tears, this time of gratitude. She glanced at me, gave me a hard buddy punch and an invisible hug whispering on my ears.

I heard you, I will never lose my Praise Again!

I choose to call her as someone once said  “ A Ruth…she is a woman who has experienced great loss and pain yet has remained loyal and faithful. She has found her strength in God…

BROKEN to be made WHOLE...

She is not your ideal definition of perfect. Far from it, she  simple, urbane and ambitious. She dreams and works like a stallion to reach her dreams. She is inhales the beauty of the cold sandy beach evening breeze. Enjoying the west coast reflection of an orange glimmer and shimmering of the sunset over the water surface. She splish-splashes her toes on the lovely sandy seashore stretch on a morning walk. Admiring the beautiful grandeur of God’s creation; Playing with the sand and drawing things with her toes. She writes down her fears, she writes her secrets too. She writes her prayers too. And when the ocean tides rock, she hopes it sweeps off the artwork left and carry away every brokenness.

She swerves in the massive ocean tides, gets lost in the moment of water experience; Such a carefree time, being held by the waters as she swims and not caring for a thing in the world. On a slow evening she sits in her coach. She loves to write and her journal becomes her best friend. She writes many things. On a lazy evening though, she reads through her old journals. She smiles at some memories. She is nostalgic about others too. She cries about a bunch of others. Her steaming mug of coffee closely hugging the palms of her hands. She chews a macadamia nut. She guzzles the content of her mug. She takes it easy and closes her eyes at times for minutes just to let the mind go blank. Not just this, but she seeks the Lord like it’s the only thing. She likes to think of herself as a pyjama wearing prayer warrior.

She knows her life path. She has accepted  that her loss,pain,regrets,shame,brawls,heartache,grief,desolation,shattered dreams, sleepless nights, tears, sorrows, abandonment  and burdens do not define her. That all this are prerequisite for something divinely amazing! She understands that she is not defined by her past but rather prepared by her past. She knows and understands so well that the future glory cannot even be compared to this momentary suffering. And so, she keeps hoping, trusting, loving, caring and enjoying the moment very sure that the future is much better and brighter.

She understands that you have to be broken to be made whole. That breaking is a painful process but when the potter is done with the breaking and fine-tuning the mound, the outcome is divine. She understands that knowing Gods will for her life pretty much changes everything. That it is even more straining to know the will of God and try to run away from it than to walk in unawares state. She knows that you can’t run away from destiny even when you would want to sometimes.

So, she sits, she ponders, wonders, laughs at herself, talks with God, fellowships with others and finds comfort that after the breaking, she will be made whole.

She has learned too that things don’t always turn out as you plan them out. That many are the plans in a man’s heart but its God who establishes them. That some things go utterly wrong but can never get fixed too to be the way they were before. That some things get broken, stay broken and are never made whole no matter how hard we try. However, she has learned of one who breaks you down completely and makes you whole despite the clattering of thousands of pieces.

She has known Him for a long time and all she says about Him is that He is The Great, I am, That I am.

Jehovah Shammah…He who is already there

El Shaddai…the All Sufficient One!

Blessed 2017 friends!!

BABY STEPS ...Surviving Every Deluge

All is quiet. The sadness as usual; soft and persistent as the sound of a cooling fan. Sadness. Tension. Absence. He wanders around the house looking for nothing but anything to distract his thoughts. He stands at the kitchen counter. Then opens the fridge. He needs whisky to calm his nerves. He opts for Scottish finest his friends brought over last weekend. He doesn’t pick a glass. Today he is going to gobble it all from the bottle. It doesn’t matter, or should it? Nothing really matters now; after all, he lost her. He can as well be.

He reaches for the sofa but is distracted by the bookshelf at the entrance to his living room. The living room; what would have been their living room. She loved reading. She still does. She insisted that they have an organized book shelf. An intelligent, dynamic and an enthusiastic reader; a woman she had hoped carries the uterus that will house his children as one writer comically puts it.  She did the arrangement every time she visited. She would also carry more books from the book store and arrange them in organized catalogues like it’s done in modern state of art libraries. The woman who once told him that the best surprise will be a good read preferably from an African author like Chimamanda Ngozi wrapped with a single rose coming with the package. Hahaha, that a gate away to Seychelles will be awesome but a nice read is equally awesome. Yes. That girl. Simple enough for him to fall in love with, naughty enough for him to keep desiring her and ambitious enough to keep him focused. A self-motivated  reader of diverse literary works. At a glance, you could see the titles on the spine of most books. From classic fiction, thrilling detectives, science fiction, history books to poetry. There was a title for each genre. She fancied reading Christian literature too. Actually, there was this particular one by John Piper that she had asked they read together. 

He reached for that particular one…”Married to God” they had gone several chapters. “After every fought -night, we always went out for garden dates and studied a chapter and discussed the study questions. It made us understand lots of issues and address expectations that were far-fetched.” He had said

He opened it. The bookmark was a custom made and personalized with her picture. He reread the writings quickly. He knew the words inscribed in the bookmark by heart. He had asked a designer to get him that book mark for the girl. The woman who had robbed his heart; The woman with whom he had purposed to spend his life with as long as the Lord will. The woman whom he had vowed to protect as long as he had breath. The one he made it clear that any man who will try to rob him of her heart will have to suffer every torment and pain jealousy could inflict.

He had chosen his writings carefully,”Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all” Prov 31:29. This was a bookmark that came with the best-selling novel The Black Street Sisters. It was a gift during the International Day of An African Child. His choice for the book was on point. She had totally fallen in love with it. He remembers the excitement she had after unwrapping the gift. Quickly reading the blurb, she knew she had to start it that night.

He stares at the pretty face of the girl in that book mark. She looks stunning in her afro. She did not wear any makeup. No eye shadow nor pencil either. Just some pale lipstick that accentuated her chocolate skin with such elegance and gave her a feminine poise good enough to make a man bowl over. She was beautiful. Atleast in his world. A tear or two lingered in his eyes. He wouldn’t let it fall. He thinks an African man should not cry…that is unacceptable. But he had already broken that. The day he had proposed and she said yes, he had cried. So he let it fall. Just two drops and he quickly dried them with the palm of his hands. The next study of the book was something he looked forward to. The blessing of Children… How many do you want and what if none comes? He would have loved that engagement with her. But she is gone...

BABY STEPS…ONE AT A TIME

She woke up from her bed.  Breathless.Dreaming of drowning. Well, she couldn’t sleep. That definitely can’t be sleep. Maybe the unconscious mental state of the mind.Dark. Curtains drawn,the air humid. Half sleeping,eyes fidgeting through the dark room. She stands at the window. She cries out. Silent cries. Then it gains momentum and she can’t hold in in the inside. She let it burst through her chest. The sob is so loud that it disturbs her fully. She opens her eyes full and lets the torrents freely wash down her chancy dimples leaving a warm sensation in the skin. She is now sobbing uncontrollably as the tears washes the remaining memories that she holds tight since the incident. Much as the same way the sea waves erase the sand script washing in any memories without warning. Carrying with it even those fond memories she would want to cling and not let go…at least not now. Only fear remains. Perhaps vaguely.

Sparklinglyfear-foam and roaring. She stares at the beautiful frivolous rise and fall of the ocean tide. The sight is beautiful but she doesn’t see the beauty in it. Whoever was to make the scene beautiful was conspicuously missing. How can it be beautiful without the source of beauty in her life? She vaguely thought.The sight aggrieved her. Because someone was missing.A very important person.Just one person and the picturesque would have been award winning and heart moving fascinated sight ever. The dark is deep. The only sound of life is of those sea creatures singing out in echoing crescendo beckoning for their family. Perhaps an old hippo beckoning for its lover from the kind of romantic gestures she can indefinitely pick.

She tiptoes back to her bed. Afraid that anyone could think she is a witch running her errands at night. Never mind it is a 5 Star tourist Hotel in the amazing Mauritusgate-aways.  She sits upright, her mind goes blank.Baffled and unclear why she is here and what made her come to such a place. Was it even a good idea?

This was supposed to be her honeymoon paradise. But she is here. Tonight.Not sure what to do with herself. Alone.

She reaches for her phone. It’s slightly past 2am. Sleep has eluded her. She decides to do the unthinkable. Reaching to the landline,she instinctively calls the hotel reception.

Krrring, Kriiiiiing and the phone is answered in the other end.Just two rings. Mmmmh, the customer service is very impressive she thinks but her thoughts are interrupted by the receiver’s response.

“Reception hello,” croaks the voice with a sense of concern that for a second she almost regretted calling at that God forsaken hour.

“Hello, Room 114, she responded after clearing a throat

Is anything the matter madam? The gentleman asked

Well, am sorry. Not really, all is fine.  I just wanted to make a room order for Red wine please. Serve it cold. Thank you. Then she hangs up.

In five minutes,she is sitting at her bed side table; Trying to write down her journal. Emotions oozing with every word she pens. She sips her cold red wine in the glass silently. Tears are flowing again. Noiselessly this time.The throat guzzling down the content of the glass; Alone.In silence. For the first time after entering the hotel, she wonders what he could be doing…

To be continued

When the brook dries up...

When the brook runs dry,what comfort can you draw from life and God. In the book of John, we are told that if we believe and accept to drink the living waters...then out of our hearts shall flow rivers and springs of goodness.
I don't know about you but there comes a time in my life and Christian journey that as a sojourner I experienced a dried brook. Unlike Elijah,it ain't the literal Brook going dry but rather the spiritual well going dry. That no matter how hard I try, praying becomes extremely difficult and so does reading the Word of God. At this times, my greatest strength comes from attending fellowship both the midweek Bible study and Sunday service. I often try to listen to sermons and teachings which sometime the attention to it is not sufficient.
It has been one of those driest season catapult both by circumstances in life and some strange reason I can't quite figure out.
So I sit in a matatu this beautiful morning; A golden glow spread across the sky as the sun chased the dark clouds away and I begin to silently reflect in the past months... Well two months as I focus on the holistic circle of life. I am disturbed at the state of things and mostly my devotion. I get anxious and feel that I am treading a not so good slidy slope. I am sick of it and I want to get back with vigor to my first love. Apart of me feels that wrong voice of condemnation and that is when another silent voice of God says something to counter that voice. And I understand in my silence that a desert is a place of chastening to a point where you realise that its not how much you pray or consistently read the Bible that determine your right standing with God. On the contrary, praying so much and reading the Word daily just to think of yourself as doing the right things and upholding the Christian discipline in itself brings in a sense of self righteousness.
We do not stand in faith by just doing those things and many others including fasting but rather by turning our hearts completely to God and studying the Word and doing what it says because of the changed man in us. That maintaining a routine that eventually makes you proud that I read my Bible three times a day and pray 4 times grows spiritual pride.
So this morning, I was reminded that sometime God takes us through a desert of dryness that He may remind us that we don't attain righteousness by praying or attending church and serving consistently. Its not attained by how much we feel connected to God but rather is attained through the power of the Cross and believe in the Christ crucified. And that season of dry spell basically takes you to the drawing board and gives that kind reminder that we can not and we will never work out our own righteousness because we will fail terribly. We are indeed clothed in Christ Jesus righteousness.
So yes,  a dry season doesn't mean God is not working in your life. In fact, He is at the very centre to remind us that it is all about Him.
I am encouraged and chastened and I bless the Lord for the dryness because even then He remains to be a good God.What then shall we say? The dry season doesn't mean that the spring of wellness in your soul has ceased to pump living waters because even when you think so, the Lord still ministers to you in that dry brook.

by Miss Hudson's