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Loki, named after the god of mischief in the Avengers, came to live with us on 7 September this year. He was just under 3 weeks old at the time and had had quite a traumatic start to life. He is missing a paw on one hind leg and on the other a couple of toes are missing. He was the recipient of grace by the family who found him, took him in and cared for him. I don’t think he would’ve survived had it not been for their care. For this – I will always be grateful to them and to God for moving their hearts to take care of him.

I wasn’t planning to take on another four-legged creature, not so soon after losing my darling Patches, the much loved turkey thief. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about Loki after I saw the ad putting him up for adoption and I think this was God telling me to go and get him. It’s almost two months since Loki arrived and he’s well entrenched in our home now.

I love Loki and I miss Patches in one crazy parallel. I initially thought that it would’ve been wonderful if Patches was still around now. I imagined him being a guide to Loki. A friend who came for dinner and who brought Loki what seems to be his favourite toy, said that he didn’t think Patches would’ve shared well. Initially I said that Patches was so good with other dogs, loved puppies, etc. But then I later remembered how Patches would try to stop even my ex boyfriend from holding my hand! So – I think my friend’s observation is spot on.

I also think that Loki would’ve bullied Patches. For all his 9 years and two weeks living with me, I never ever heard Patches growl. I think there was once or twice when he tried to growl and it came out more like someone clearing their throat. My gentle giant. In just slightly over a month, I’ve heard Loki growl threateningly at things that have annoyed or frightened him: fireworks, strangers at the gate, motorbikes and even his own long, elusive tail. I’ve no idea how he knew to growl. There are times when he’s afraid but he still pushes ahead and growls in the face of whatever danger he thinks is facing him. He’s a fighter, this one! I won’t have to be the one guarding him.

Patches was bundles of energy. So is Loki, don’t get me wrong. But it’s no where close to Patches, thank God! But I see his energy levels picking up as he gets stronger. It is good, of course but it’s not the same. He’s a calmer dog. Patches was ever so excitable and perhaps a tad bit anxious. It’s a stark contrast! However, despite his energy, Patches though naughty, knew he had to listen and would yield. Not Loki! Loki has embraced his name in full! He bullies my dad! He doesn’t think twice about disobeying him and is very happy to maul away at whatever he wants. He responds to me – but I think it’s in the high hopes that he gets a kibble as a treat! I can see this one pushing the boundaries. I’ve named him well!

There are some things that I think Loki is incredibly alike Patches. Now that he has his strength, he eats in the same fashion. It’s like dust being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner: everything disappears in seconds. He loves his food! He also eats whatever he can. He’s picking up right where Patches left off! So I find myself taking dry leaves, grass, thread, newspaper and whatever else from out of his mouth as I had to do with Patches. Another similarity is that he thinks every single wrapper or bag I open contains food for him. The light in his little eyes come on at that time. It’s so very alike Patches, who lived in eternal hope of being fed around the clock. Watching Loki at these points makes me miss Patches.

I knew that Loki was going to be his own little character. I didn’t imagine he would be so different! I couldn’t have. This is a completely new adventure. A brand new chapter and I think mama’s going to need a brand new bag! I was worried I wouldn’t be able to love him because of Patches. I don’t have that worry at all now: it disappeared the moment I met him in person. I’m just amazed at how God sent me the right one. He’s a perfect fit in our home: the complete chaos to our order. He makes me laugh and melts my heart in many ways and the beauty of it all is, it’s in a completely different way from how Patches made me laugh or moved me. It’s just wonderful. I’m sure there will be some similarities between Loki and Patches in terms of the laughs as well as the moments that touch my heart. I think I’m going to be good with that. I miss my darling Patches so very much and I count him as one of my brightest blessings. I have a feeling that Loki’s going to be another one in that category. I’m very sure of it. So I really want to say a big thank You to God as I am yet again overwhelmed at how generous He has been towards me in sending me this little mischief maker. ‘His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.’

I think I must make it clear that when I wrote my last blog on what had happened between my friend and me, it was not so much as to point out the negatives in her but to explain the failure that happened as a church. I’d written a previous blog pointing out my own failures in the entire thing: as a result of my tiredness, I was beginning to rage. I do not come out of this looking virtuous.

Fact is, I am very sad by how things have worked out. I was even working on making her an heir so that she would be taken care of in the long run. I care about her and I’m sad that our relationship has come to an end. I felt like a mother towards in many senses of the word!

I am also sad about me. I am sad for what I have lost over the last two years. The other night, a group of friends consisting of friends from church and a couple of my closest girl friends came for dinner. It wouldn’t have been possible had my friend been staying with us. In April this year, I finally attended community lunch in church. It had been almost two years since I did that. Again it was because of my friend. There are many things that I could list here – but this isn’t the plan!

I wrote the earlier blog to talk about the failure in our community as Christians. I feel like I am part of the failure and partly that I also suffered as a result of that failure. I write not to condemn but to say “Hey, we need to buck up!” So I have no apology to proffer to those who were offended.

It bothers me because there are so many who know of what has happened who still continue to befriend the abusive husband. One of my friend’s questions to me was “How can I trust them? They’re all FB buddies and they still keep him there, even after I told them of what had transpired.” It bothers me that he still speaks in churches and gets the blessing of those in the know. It bothers me that senior people who are highly respected came out and told my friend that she was imagining things. When she avoided them, they spoke to me as if I was also a problem – our relationship changed. It bothers me that people who acted inappropriately and who had to be asked to please not behave in a particular manner, are angry with me. We no longer talk – more relationships burnt. It bothers me that the people that I had to deal with when trying to get help were sometimes dismissive. I had to speak loudly and harshly just to be heard. I could have just about accepted it if it had been the corporate world, but these were brothers in Christ. I am grateful for one, who I still am happy to call a leader -but even there, our relationship came to breaking point. He extended grace and helped me to do the same. It bothers me that I got so angry at the situation that was completely beyond my control and that I couldn’t repair things- another sin exposed.

I speak about this not to condemn. If I condemn, I’d be condemning myself. I have forgiveness and acceptance in Christ – and so do the rest. I know better than to condemn. I speak about this because we as the church of Christ are supposed to display His love and grace. In this instance, we failed. I know it will be impossible to get it right every single time – I’m not so naive to think that. But this is an important thing that we need to struggle with. We need to recognise the need for understanding. We need to recognise that we are all works in progress and so there will never be a perfect response. How else do we learn if we don’t know what went wrong?

I hope that I recover enough to help another person, if there is such a need. Right now, I balk at the idea and I know that is not godly. I hope too that those involved in the wider church, recognise that they have to also serve better. It would be good to start praying that should another situation like this arise, we as the church, will be better able to display Christ’s love. I hope that somehow, this spurs each one of us to strive for this, ‘for we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them’ (Ephesians 2: 10).

We’ve got our home back now, dad and me. Slowly things are returning to normalcy. There is no constant demand on my time, and I don’t have to be the ever-vigilant counselor, friend or sister. I feel like a burden’s been lifted. It’s a good feeling indeed.

I set out to help someone who was in need. The need was genuine: her husband was abusive. Somehow though, the full force of caring for her fell on me. We weren’t ready as a church to look out for her. Her abusive husband got a lot more care, somehow. It made me so furious at the time – and to a point it still bothers me, but I’m recognizing our limitations for what they are. By the time people were ready to reach out, the friend I was helping was excessively wary of everyone. I don’t blame her. The comments weren’t all kind and a lot of things came across as nosy, insensitive and judgmental. “Do you think it’s God’s judgment?” “Give me the specifics of what happened so that I can pray for you.” There were so many of such comments. It was all a bit much. What I didn’t see was that it all sort of played into her own area of weakness, which is to cling to one person over and above all else. That person was me. So – she made me her centre, a position that I really did not want. My boundaries were constantly breached as she had no one else to turn to – and I was increasingly frustrated with the situation, not to mention, exhausted.

The question I struggled with most was whether the desire to break free from her clutches was godly. I wanted my freedom. I missed hanging out with my friends the way we always used to. She was always around, and it changed the dynamic of all my relationships. It didn’t bother her – she was oblivious to it. I constantly wondered how I should be living this out. It is hard to share everything. There are some relational dynamics that I don’t want to share all the time. Jesus didn’t help because he gave His life up. That example and what Paul said about being poured out like a drink offering weighed so heavily on me. How to break free? How to be godly? How could I justify asking her to leave when we have space at home? It was a difficult one.

All of a sudden, my world came crashing: Patches died. Sleep was elusive. I was shattered. My darling boy was no more, and the pain of loss was searing. My friends surrounded me with their love and care. This was just such a godsend. They were sharing in my loss in a way that really helped me. It was in this moment of loss and love that my boundaries were breached again. My friend was unable to cope with a lack of attention, and the demand she placed on my grieving time and space was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I asked her to move out.

I wish I had asked her to move out right away. I didn’t. It got ugly. My friend couldn’t understand why I was furious. Her breaches of boundaries against others were something she forgave so easily. She couldn’t forgive it when others breached her boundary. I wasn’t ready to help her work it out. I was grieving Patches’ loss and I resented that she was infringing on that time. Her complaints were that I accepted love from other friends but rejected her. It was tiring and I didn’t want to discuss it further. The questions about what I needed to do and how I should act in godly fashion still haunted me though.

There was a Tim Keller podcast that I listened to that helped me on that score. He explained how Jesus set the standard: open arms on the cross so that all could come in. I remember my heart sinking as I heard that. However, he went on to say that that very standard set us up for failure, for it was impossible for us all to live up to it in the same way. The relief I felt was palpable. It was what I needed to hear. Jesus knew that I would never be able to do what He did. I could strive for it and in this instance, with this friend, I really tried. However, I needed to recognize my limitations and surrender them to Him. My motivations for wanting her to leave were simple: I needed peace of mind. I needed to heal from losing Patches and I needed my life to be mine. I couldn’t bring about godly behaviour in her either when I gave in to her demands. I had been doing that for almost 2 years. I don’t expect her to see this. I’m disappointed in some of the things that she has said and done since she left our home but I’m not about to fix it. This is something she needs to do with Jesus.

As part of the church that let my friend down, I too have failed. I couldn’t steer the course to the end. This is the stark reality of who we are. We can’t really fix things. Only Jesus can. He’s helping me fix this feeling of failure in myself by showing me how we really are destined for failure on so many counts. I don’t think we’re ever meant to stop trying to fix things. Didn’t James say ‘What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or a sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. (James 2: 14 – 16). This verse has been so helpful in understanding what Paul talks about when he says he’s alright with being poured out like a drink offering (Philippians 2:17). It is essential that we labour for others and that we help as much as we can: it would depict Christ working through us, His church. However, we never become the cure. We just don’t have that power. Paul seems to say this in 1 Corinthians 3: 5-7: What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. I need to repent from trying to be the cure. I am not the cure and I never will be.

I bear my friend no ill will, though I don’t see how it will be possible to have a healthy relationship with her now. She too must pick up the mantle and start displaying some of the work of the Spirit. I wish her well in that – I hope she lets God work in her. It will show from the way she treats the people she has blamed for the collapse of her relationship with me, I should think. Letting God work in her will bring her true healing. However, I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to let Him work His healing in me through the lessons I have learnt from this chapter. I need to look at how He’s bringing people into my life to partner with me in the gospel and to share in coffee dates or other fun times with. He’s also sent me Loki. I’m overwhelmed at the amount of healing He’s sending along my way and the realizations that come along with it. It’s phenomenally humbling and shows me how much love He bears me.

This chapter with my friend has left an unsavoury taste in my mouth. I feel like I’ve failed. Yet, this failure has shown me how God has been working and how He has protected me from losing more areas of my life to a person who cared not for my boundaries at all. It has been wonderful having time to read at home or just do nothing. It’s been superb being able to have conversations whether on the phone or by messaging, without a person waiting to have a talk. It has been great having people over again – some had to stay away because of the offence that my friend felt they had caused her. It has been good having time to chat to my dad without a third person present. It has been good to participate in community lunches and conversations in church without having to dash off. All these healing moments have shown me that despite my sin and lack of significance, God cares and that He is working within me indeed. I take great comfort in that. I hope He lets me recover from this long episode and I hope He grants me wisdom that I may be able to act in a way that is in line with His Will if ever anyone is in need of help.

Christians all over the world are coming together to reflect on the cross where Jesus died for us. It is such an emotional time because we are often overwhelmed by the magnitude of the sacrifice that Jesus made. This is especially in light of who we are. The worthy dying for the unworthy just does not make sense. It is so hard to understand and many are disgusted by the idea of this sacrifice that was required by God.

I cannot imagine Eden. I cannot imagine this perfect world that God created. I cannot imagine the perfect world He promises. There’s so much wrong with the world. We have war torn countries where millions are displaced or suffering from food shortages. We have countries where everything is at a halt because of belligerent leaders. Poverty in some of these places is just scary. In many countries, corruption reigns- some more refined than others. There are huge battles on gender and issues of sexuality as well as on the issue of freedom to embrace faith. There are so many issues! I cannot list them all. I understand how sin entered the world from the perspective of the Bible and I understand that this means we ought not be surprised by some of what’s going on. This is difficult. Even on a personal level, we see degeneration in our bodies and minds. We struggle with ageing, sickness and stress. Factor in difficult relationships – or any relationship. There is death. The list is unending. We struggle with so much. Sometimes we can see how some of our struggles have been a means by which God has corrected areas of sin in our lives or by which He has shown us mercy and compassion. Sometimes, we see this. But most of the time, there are so many things going on that are just so painful to watch and which we cannot fix. All of this is why, I struggle to understand Eden or the new world. I cannot even begin to comprehend peace, joy and contentment. I cannot comprehend being free of pain and tears.

At the moment, I am waiting to watch The Avengers: Endgame. How will my favourite superheroes undo the genocide brought about by Thanos through the infinity stones? I have been watching the different Marvel movies to whet my appetite on what is to come to cinemas near me in a week’s time. There is so much excitement about how a group of heroes will save the world. There is also a lot of heroism, pomp and grandeur. Yet, the world that they save, inevitably goes back to the world as we know it: still full of poverty, environmental, and political issues on a global level. Individual lives are left unchanged too. The same relational problems and other struggles remain. Even Hollywood doesn’t help me picture the freedom that Jesus’ salvation claims to bring.

Still, I believe.

I believe simply because I am a recipient of grace. I am very sure on this score because I otherwise cannot see myself buying into this idea of a perfect world to come. I cannot buy into it simply because I  cannot fathom it. However, I believe it because I have been granted grace. So I believe that the Bible is God’s Word. As I study it, it makes complete sense. I believe that Jesus, perfectly God, became man to take my sin. Why didn’t this Almighty God just forgive sin? Every sin is against God and God is just. A just God means that He cannot simply overlook sin. Overlooking a wrong doesn’t make us good- in case we think this. A just God must punish sin. However, God is also merciful and loving. And so, instead of making us pay for our sin, He paid for it Himself. I believe this. Why He did it, is something I cannot imagine. Simply, it is because I cannot imagine suffering any penalty in the place of a loved one. I mean, I may walk with them, try to comfort them, but to take their place? I don’t think so. So I know that there is some sort of intervention here, that enables me to believe. The Bible tells me that this is grace: ‘For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God…’  (Ephesians 2:8). I can accept it though I cannot explain it.

I want to thank Jesus for His sacrifice. I want to thank Him as I journey in my faith because there has been so much grace. I cannot imagine the perfect world without pain and sorrow: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” – Revelation 21:4. I want to thank Him for dying for me, despite the ugliness of my sin. I want to thank Him for the hope I have that His Spirit will work in to bring to completion the work He has started in me: And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. – Philippians 1:6.

Most of all though, I want to thank Him for this hope that I have where I won’t cry or feel pain anymore. As petty as my problems are in the face of the larger issues plaguing the world, I still cry for my mum. Now – I also cry for Patches and for the degenerative nature of my illness. I am so relieved that I don’t have to fix anything. I want to thank Jesus for the grace He has given me even now in the midst of all this difficulty: there are friends and family that make the problems I face seem alright. They help me work things out and I hope I return the favour to them. There are chats, laughs, good food and drink that make me go “wow” and totally overwhelm me. There is kindness that comes my way that I know I don’t deserve. With all of this happening here in the now and with the promise I have to look forward to, I thank You, Jesus, for letting me believe.

The fury I felt was incredible. I wouldn’t have been in the least surprised to have seen a green Hulk in the mirror and to have found out that in some twisted way, I was actually Bruce Banner. It wasn’t calm and it certainly wasn’t pleasant. The rush of blood to my head seemed to be accompanied by some ridiculous thundering and rumbling of sorts within me. I was not happy. How I wanted to scream out from the tops of mountains and from the depths of the oceans. I was angry and I was also tired. Never a good combination in a sinful being. 

The anger was triggered by the reaction of a close friend who took a few words said between us on a particular subject to a level that they hadn’t been intended for. In a way, she felt rejected and was probably in shock that this purported rejection was coming from me, for I think she’s more of a daughter to me than she realises. I can only imagine that she thought that I was joining the list of close people who had abandoned her inexplicably. I fumed that she could even think that after the journey we’ve been on. I also felt particularly angry because of the timing of it all: it was within the week that Patches had died and my heart has been breaking for him. I want and need to cry for this loss. I resented her actions for what they robbed me of during this time of grief. 

Then a message from her came through, bringing the boiling me to a stop. She had spoken to the counsellor and  had things explained to her – she now saw that things had been taken out of context and that assumptions had been made and acted upon. She is sorry. I immediately felt sorry too and am ready to forgive. Am relieved, actually. It was the perfect balm. Am thankful to God for this. 

Her message has been on my mind. Her actions and thought processes have been formed by long term abuse. I have to say that I knew this and it still didn’t stop the hurt when it happened. It has been difficult for it wasn’t the first time. The difference was this time, it has caught me when I am feeling low. The ability to be more restrained and less furious are not working at optimum levels for me right now. 

What happens now? We’re scheduled to talk. It is clear, we both need Jesus. She needs wisdom in managing daily relationships. I need to be more Christlike and less Hulk-like. This big picture is easier to grasp at compared to what it translates to in day to day interactions. It isn’t something either of us can map out for Lord alone knows what lies ahead and how each day will pan out. I don’t know. It’s so difficult to accept my limited vision. The challenge for me is to rely on God completely for I cannot fix it. I am reminded of the following verse: ‘But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.’ (2 Corinthians 12:9). 

I cannot fix or reverse the damage done to her for she has endured long term abuse. Even the Avenger I imagine myself to be cannot do so, for if I were the keeper of the time stone, I imagine I could somehow manage to reverse this instance. But how many situations could I help and I’d possibly cause a mighty migraine if I constantly reversed things. 

God doesn’t change the consequences of our actions. In Numbers 21, when the Israelites complained in the wilderness, God sent fiery serpents as their punishment. If bitten, they died. When there was repentance, God didn’t take away the fiery serpents. Instead, He gave them a way through. Moses was to put a bronze serpent on a pole and whoever looked at it would be saved. That’s the imagery we have for the coming of Christ and His crucifixion on the cross so much later. Whoever calls on Jesus will be saved. I get that. 

Yet it doesn’t help me fix my current problem. The Israelites who looked at the bronze serpent didn’t die. It feels like they had reprieve. What am I missing? 

I wonder if I myself am fully equipped and mentally ready for this walk with my friend. I wonder if I have enough humility. When our journey started, I had seen the need for her to escape the clutches of her abusive husband. I hadn’t fully calculated the impact of the abuse from her husband and even from her own home as she grew up. I never understood or would’ve been able to understand the damage such long term abuse wreaked. I come from a safe home. It is impossible to know of such things until you see it. It is impossible to believe the extent of the damage until you witness it. 

Often the friends who surround us tell us things like “let go of the past” or “the past doesn’t define you”. These aren’t helpful. I’ve seen my friend balk at them. The past has shaped her considerably. We can talk about reprogramming and relearning stuff but it isn’t as easy as rebooting your computer and moving on with what needs to be done. Our minds adopt patterns that we aren’t aware of until we suffer some consequence from an unhealthy pattern. 

It’s also easy to say “I’ve no tolerance” or that “I lack the patience”. It is very easy to mask these by talking about boundaries. This has been my biggest challenge. I am an only child and am so loved. I don’t know if the difficulties I’m facing as I deal with my friend are as a result of extreme selfishness on my part. Why is it so hard to share my space? Why is it hard to share my friends, family and all my other blessings? Why do I lack ability to give more? What am I holding on to for myself? Didn’t Paul pour himself out as a drink offering for the church? (Philippians 2:17) Didn’t that mean he served the church in humility where his interests never trumped the faith of those he was building up in Christ? He was willing to deny himself over and over again for their faith. 

There is the greater example of true supremacy serving when we look at the story of Jesus and His disciples at the Passover meal. The dispute about who was the greatest is met with the following from Jesus: ‘For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.’ (Luke 22:27). Where is my willingness to do this? These examples put me to shame. Boundaries are necessary, though. Even Jesus rested. So maybe I need to be wiser with how I rest so that I can better serve too. 

Yet, as I consider this, my mind goes back to the dispute on greatness during the Passover meal. Here was true greatness showing me how to aspire to greatness and He knew as He did, that I would never be able to measure up even though it means taking up my actual position of servitude. He knew I would never be able to aspire to true greatness simply because I suck at true service. I truly am ashamed, when I think of this. I have demanded it of my leaders and friends in church but I myself cannot live up to it. I am ashamed indeed. 

I don’t know what will happen in the next leg of my journey with my friend. I can see now that I need to be willing to give up more as she works on building up her faith and her life in Christ. I am not sure that this would’ve been the road I chose for myself. I would probably have chosen roads with lots of drive throughs from which I could get good coffee and on which there were zero traffic jams or any sort of hold ups. I don’t know how to navigate from here. So I must remind myself again that His grace is sufficient for me. I need to also remind my friend that for now, I think I am the instrument that He has chosen to speak into her life and to walk with her. I am, however, terribly flawed as she has witnessed. I also genuinely am stumped – as she must see, for my limitations are becoming clearer. I hope she sees this. However, may we both learn to be like Paul so that we can say like him: ‘For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.’ (2 Corinthians 12:10). This won’t be easy. We both need to recognise and accept this. We will fail again and again and again. But His grace is and will be sufficient for us. May we learn to rely on it.

My darling Patches came bouncing into my life at the beginning of 2010. He was full of life, terribly energetic and dangerously cute. It’s no secret that I totally fell for him and he showed his absolute devotion to me by attaching himself to my person literally. It’s still pretty much early days in 2019… and my darling boy is no longer with us. We were forced to say goodbye. 

In 2017, he survived a poisoning in January and then had a tumour removed from his liver in October. He seemed to have fully overcome these setbacks and he bounded back into life. The moment he could, he started trying to catch birds in the garden. He’d stick his head into a bush and despite his wagging tail sticking out, he seemed to think he was invisible. From there, he would spring into action. I was amused and he had a ball. Am not sure the birds were on the same page with either of us. Though I must say that at times, it felt like they were on friendly terms with him. 

There were also his own silly ways of doing things that he had gone back to. He had his own routines when given a biscuit, for instance. He would run with it to the carpet, drop it on the carpet and then prance about it. He had so much joy within him and really enjoyed the little things I know I often take for granted. 

He had over the past year, developed an affinity for pears! This was almost hilarious to watch as he couldn’t quite get over how easy it was for him to chew on a piece of pear. It’s almost as if he expected the crunch from a bone! I loved feeding him pears. I loved feeding him, period. 

Whenever he felt the injustice of not being fed, which was quite an imagined case, he would help himself to whatever food he could get his paws on. One new year’s day a couple of friends and I got together somewhat impromptu. One of them had brought a salad with chicken in it. At one point, we’d all stepped away from the dining table. When we got back, we realised that all the chicken in the salad had not so mysteriously vanished. There stood my darling turkey thief, as I call him, feigning perfect innocence! 

We really loved our walks together. I think that Patches was in love with life. He sniffed at everything along the way, especially flowers and sought to smell every single flower we passed on our walks. He was patted by a lot of the kids in our housing area. Some were afraid of dogs but decided this gentle, docile creature was safe enough to pat. Their faces displayed their joy in being so brave and Patches’ face displayed satisfaction at being so loved. 

He’d become a little shyer of people ever since the last operation in 2017. He’d stick even closer to me whenever we had visitors at home. He was probably the most comfortable with women. He never shied away from getting back rubs and ear scratches. In fact, he would ever so kindly, position himself so that they didn’t have to stretch too much to rub his back. My boy was so thoughtful. 

I’ve been out of work since March 2018. Except for some freelance work, I’ve been at home. These 11 months with my darling Patches have been really wonderful. All this while, I could see how happy he was that I wasn’t running off without him. He was so content with our walks and our afternoon siestas. He started drinking out of my mug, just as a matter of fact. We apparently share things! He followed me around from the time we woke up until we went to bed. All this happened because I quit work to focus on my RA. I’ve been pondering and wondering whether I made the right decision and how to get back to work, when I now see that this time together was so special. God knew. God gave me this without even me asking for it. Providence, indeed. 

All I can say for now is that my boy was a blessing to me. He lifted my spirits in so many ways and helped me cry when I am so good at suppression. I’ve had bouts of giggles because of his silliness and I’ve had a steady companion. He has taught me lessons in how I should be approaching God and also on how much God has supported us through community. Even now, in my sadness, I am lifted because of His comfort through an outpouring of love from family and friends.  The realisation I now have about this time granted to me to be with my boy, the turkey thief, overwhelms and humbles me. I seek His grace that one day, the turkey thief and I will be reunited and that in the meantime, while I soldier on, I will be grateful always for the blessing He gave me. 

My darling Patches, I will miss talking to you, cuddling you, feeding you and just having you. You were such a good boy, my love. You’ll always be my boy. Love you. 

It isn’t easy for anyone managing others to know how to respond to emergency time off or even sick leave requests. There is no doubt that over and over again, sick leave and emergency time out options have been abused by some employees, thus making it harder for those with genuine reasons who need to take time off. 

Having been in both situations: where I’ve been managed and where I’ve had to manage, I can see the troubles both sides face. There are some employees who are genuinely sickly. Some problems, which appear trifling to the eye, can really get in the way of someone being able to come in to work consistently. There are also those who have to shoulder slightly more arduous circumstances than the rest, for one reason or other. For some of these, time off options have been a lifeline but may have at various points subjected them to sharp criticism. Managers don’t always feel they’ve got a grasp of the times when someone calls in sick or needs an emergency time out. 

We can quite easily sympathise with some of these managers too. You get the employees who’re constantly ‘sick’ or who need time out urgently for some fictitious problem or other. You know it too! There’s almost always some kind of give away. You look at their work history and you see their emergencies almost always happen on the Monday or Friday of a long weekend. Sometimes, their social media pages give them away. This behaviour doesn’t only trouble management, it causes difficulties to the teams these individuals are a part of as now team members have to pull their weight as well. 

I don’t have a solution as to how to stop people from abusing their medical or emergency leave options. A lot of this boils down to the belief system or values that the individual holds. I am in favour of bosses having chats with truant employees, especially when there are performance issues. This is much needed. However, I am also in favour of perhaps granting the time out when sought so that genuine requests don’t get turned down. It is impossible to sometimes know. People in charge shouldn’t have to harden themselves so much that they no longer reflect their humanity. That would be the recipe for disaster. Instead, if there’s a management of expectations where they were concerned that out of all their employees, some will have genuine problems and some will be less so, their approach can be to be more supportive. There doesn’t have to be an oppressive stance taken to weed out such behaviour. It doesn’t make those in charge weaker to do this. 

There could maybe be a more robust observation of employees and their performance. A follow through when targets aren’t met or when performance is below par would put the manager in a better position to act without second guessing themselves or being second guessed. They can be seen to be acting fairly. I think it would also preserve them from having to act in a manner that may cause them to lose the human element of who they are. This happens far too often when we seek to exercise control over all things. 

Perhaps it is also necessary when we manage people, to recognise that just because someone takes us for a ride, it doesn’t necessarily make us weak. If there are suitable follow throughs, then there is a definite observance of boundaries, which can only be lauded. What needs to be recognised is those who abuse the options of sick or emergency leave are the ones who should be checking their integrity. They’re the ones who really are guilty of making the work place less humane as they put pressures on people at different levels. 

There isn’t a foolproof solution. I do think though, it isn’t the same as a situation of applying for annual leave, when it may be easier to negotiate whether the application should be approved or not. Refusal is tougher when someone needs a sick day or needs to utilise their emergency leave options for whatever reason, genuine or fictitious. For annual leave, is easier to say that an application for leave isn’t going to be accepted because of a legitimate reason, such as a peak period of that others have already applied for leave ahead of time. Again,  the tricky bit is regulating emergency and sick leave. Unnecessary comments to guilt the person requesting may be made wrongly and in such situations, more damage than good is done. So- instead of worrying about losing control, leave the discussion about whether it was appropriate or not for such leave to have been taken and raise doubts  if any, once the person returns. It will be worthwhile to have such discussions, hard as they may be because they are not emotionally charged but rather evidence based or form part of an evidence collecting exercise. 

So I call my beloved Patches the Turkey Thief because of the time he stole a turkey at Christmas some years ago. In my mind, the image of Patches dancing with that turkey as he gobbled it up, is forever etched. He has twice now stolen chocolate cake- the first time he ate enough cake for 30 people and the second was over Christmas 2018 when he quickly swallowed three chocolate cupcakes, paper cups and all! He was swift and sure. His actions precise and clinical. Nothing was wasted! No evidence left. Both times when he stole chocolate cake, the panic that rose in me was phenomenal. Dogs aren’t supposed to be able to process cocoa and get really ill. The first time, he spent the whole night smacking his lips rather loudly and last Christmas, he snoozed very contentedly in a corner, blissfully unaware of the stress he had caused. Sometimes I want to strangle the Turkey Thief! 

I complain about his silliness and call him a spoilt brat! But how I love his gentle face and expressive eyes. I would miss him unbearably should anything happen to him. Something almost did happen too. 

In October 2017, my darling Patches was taken ill. To keep a long story short, he almost died because a tumour in his liver burst. He had to have massive surgery and was very fortunate to have survived. I think the entire time he was in hospital, I had the song “Bring Him Home” in my head. In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean sings it with such desperation and this marked the mood and nature of my prayers that entire time. 

I was teary at best and in those dark days, I remember the sobbing. I don’t always cry and am somewhat a master at suppressing my feelings. Yet, this four-legged, tail wagging, food gobbling creature had me all knotted up. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. It was hard enough leaving him in hospital after visiting hours ended, not to mention taking him up to the operation theatre to leave him looking at me with eyes wild with fear when I wasn’t allowed past a certain point. It was terrible indeed. 

And yet, God must be praised. God must be praised for several things. The biggest thing for me is the success of the surgery and how the septicaemia was fought off. That alone should have killed him. It wouldn’t have been possible without the Creator, who made all things for His glory. As if that wasn’t enough, there was another incredible blessing: friends. Patches and I have been blessed with such amazing friends. I was ready to quit my job to be able to sit with Patches but we had a friend come spend time with him in hospital for the few hours when I wasn’t there. Then there were the other friends who came to visit and sit with me while I sat with Patches in hospital. The comfort they brought us both is undeniable. The costs of the operation were quite high. I wasn’t expecting this next bit. A dear friend, whose dog has been one of Patches’ long time friends, passed the hat around to our mutual friends. So many chipped in to help me cover costs. It was mind blowing. It was overwhelming. It touched me to the core and I shall never forget the kindness of these souls. I shall never forget how they stood united in my grief at a time of difficulty. I haven’t been able to write about this sooner because all of you really overwhelmed my senses. 

This only strengthens my faith in God’s Providence. He sent a material blessing and also intangible blessings of support and comfort. I know that to a lot of people, so much fuss over a dog would just be lost. So my amazing God kept those people at bay and brought me and Patches the ones who didn’t judge or minimise our trial, even if they didn’t necessarily relate to it. He brought us the ones who stood in solidarity with us in a way that I cannot stop thanking Him for. To each of these friends – you know who you are. Please know that my gratitude runs deep for your presence and generosity. 

The healing took a while. It took 10 months to be exact. The Turkey Thief seemed to have retired from his life of crime at this time. Slowly but surely the Turkey Thief regained his strength. Now he’s back to doing twirls as he jumps when he’s terribly excited; chasing after cats; trying to catch birds, rats and squirrels; smelling the flowers wherever he goes; imitating a vacuum cleaner when he eats – it is quite an impressive feat; and scavenging – he is forever scavenging because he leads a hard life and has only scraps for food …not! The mischief has returned. There are bouts of disobedience and cuteness that I cannot always successfully distinguish! My Turkey Thief is back and he’s loving life. Crime still pays handsomely, as does just turning up wagging his tail and looking positively silly! 

Watching him and thinking back on the whole experience that we went through- including the phenomenal support we received, I cannot help but wonder at God’s design for community. This was one wonderful example of how a community of friends displayed His glory through their generous and loving acts. It was such a diverse group of people who banded together in unstructured and unplanned fashion. They didn’t all know each other either. The precision of each message, phone call, visits and financial help is beyond my imagination. When I think back on this, I am humbled and remember His words that His grace is sufficient for me. 

As for my darling Patches, who as I write, is curled up against me in a ball, snoring blissfully (again!). You, my little creature, are growing older, as am I. You’ve seen sickness and have had to battle for your life. I’m seeing illness too, though thankfully not life threatening. You’re enjoying the days we lie in bed longer in the mornings and it’s harder to get you to simply chase after just about anything as you once did before. I’m letting go too. God is definitely using you to teach me things! The care He has for you makes me marvel and reminds me of how He cares for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. So – through this, I am reminded of His care for me, which in this instance, when you almost died, the care was through such a diverse community of people. Ultimately His provision for me of the gift of salvation that I don’t deserve. Another overwhelming blessing. I am so grateful to be on this journey with you, my darling Turkey Thief. I love you so much, Patches and thank God for bringing you into my life but… go near chocolate cake again and it’s a sure smack! 

Sometimes I feel very disconnected from everyone and everything. I cannot include God in this category. He can be trying at times, so my disgruntled self believes. Though I must say that even then, there is a disgruntled sort of connection. Perhaps another one that cannot be included into this category is Patches. He operates on a different level. Yet, I must ask the question whether he ever has moments when he feels disconnected from me. That would be telling! 

I don’t know why there is this disconnect. I must tread with caution here, for I am not writing to give offence. I am writing because I feel so very disconnected from the way everyone is and to a few sets of circumstances. 

Anyone who has spent a decent amount of time with me, will know that I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don’t think this is necessarily a strength. In fact, I think it’s one of my biggest flaws. Though I am not terribly sure that I want to be stoic either. Stoicism doesn’t suit me, I think. It is much too sedate and I’d probably fall asleep in the middle of a conversation with my stoic self. I certainly cannot imagine anyone else, including God, staying awake either! So I am not seeking stoicism. I really much rather God stays awake when I speak. 

I like the idea of steadfastness. The analogy that strikes me most is one of a ship anchored in the midst of a storm and doesn’t get too terribly beaten about because of the strength of its anchor. It’s so different from stoicism because the ship most definitely feels the impact of the torrents but unlike when you wear your heart on your sleeve and every emotion , yay and nay, carry you to heights or depths unknown, there is a calm when dealing with the situation. Heaven help if there is a disconnect between anchor and ship. All would then be lost.

So why do I feel so disconnected? I sometimes feel that I operate on a different platform from the rest. Where they are flexible, I am insanely rigid and where they are rigid, I’m usually quite happy to flex. What they are willing to accept, I reject with almost every bone in my body. What they reject, I want to embrace. I also need to stress that I don’t feel this about the certain hope we have in Christ or in the areas which are clearly black or white in the Bible. So for instance, I’m not about to promote sex out of the bounds of marriage, tempting as it may be, because it is clear from the model set that it was intended to be within the bounds of marriage. I’m speaking of subtler things and of the things we feel in the grey zone. 

Sometimes for instance, it amazes me that so few feel irritation. Look, I’m not saying irritation is the way to go. However, it helps us know when something is unacceptable. I don’t think it should be the go to feeling but more often than not, I find that there is a willingness to excuse stuff that I may just find impossible to excuse. Sometimes we knowingly let an adult who has abused another adult in what would be criminal behaviour, still remain with kids. Sometimes we go on doing things that impact the lives of others even when we know that we really don’t meet the mark. I am told to let it go (the Frozen tune plays in my head every time at those words). I suspect we think we’re being gracious to the former and that the latter has no choice. I’m not okay with either call. It’s not the exact same situation and I don’t propose to outline solutions for them. The disconnect is that it isn’t bothering so many others or the person themselves. It bothers me! Make no mistake. It bothers me. I don’t know if I’m this extra key that God made but then decided not to use in any of the musical scores He wrote. It would be, I reckon, the kind of joke He would play on me. So I am preparing myself to also find that my disconnect was yet another massive crime on my long list of crimes. Who needs Grindelwald?

So what is the disconnect? There is much Biblical wisdom in silence in the face of anger. This is a huge point of struggle for me. I think there is a restriction against nagging (Proverbs 19:13) and thankfully so. I totally agree with the bit about acting in anger, which I think would include speaking in anger (Proverbs 14:17). Again, I confess, this one, I find hard to follow. I do get angry and I wish I didn’t speak on auto-pilot when I am. I don’t actually think I am hot tempered. However, there are things that do make me angry. I find it so difficult when I get responses such as “oh but you can’t expect more from person X” or “person X is just that way… you have to accept it” or “this is how I am… I can’t do more,” or “let it go.” This is the disconnect: why can’t I expect more? Why do I have to accept it? And why oh why is person X content with how they are in that state? Why should I let it go? I’m not Elsa. Isn’t there something that drives us to be better than who we are? Why is it then, for person X, we say it’s alright to just let them be? Why do we give them a pass? It feels almost lazy to do this. Why isn’t person X struggling a little more to be better? Again, it feels like just a disregard for a duty they have to themselves. 

Change cannot happen at once. With this idea, I totally agree. It is simply crazy to think that we can without a Saul to Paul like conversion miracle, change overnight. I know areas in my own life where it has taken years for permanent change to happen. However, there shouldn’t be room for complacency. There shouldn’t be a pass for yourself, just because everyone else says “it’s alright”. Why would you accept that from them? Don’t you feel you’re entitled to improvement? 

Think about it. In most instances, our parents or those related, bring us up in a way to ensure we are the best versions of ourselves. There are truths they tell us that perhaps no one else will. On a larger level where there is absolute perfection, God does this to us too. Through the power of His Spirit, He convicts us of things where we fall short. Those truths aren’t pretty. Trust me: they show us how ugly we are. That is a bitter pill to swallow. Those lessons are hard. So if you and I are the vessels of the Spirit, why then, do we say “it’s alright” or “you can’t expect more”? Why do we adopt such defeatist attitudes? I cannot accept this stand. Maybe I have it wrong. 

 Some of the most pointed or direct observations from my parents and also very close friends have hurt. Who likes being given a rocket? Yet, these are the very lessons I remember because of the change they brought about. The glory doesn’t go to the vessel but it goes to the Holy One whose Spirit works constantly in us.

As such, we don’t really need to be stoic when we see problems around us. I think we ought not to be. I think sometimes we need to be prepared to say what needs to be said. Maybe remind the brother or sister in Christ of where their anchor is. For if their anchor is in Him, then they cannot be destroyed by the painful truths that are put to them. They must check their anchor. I suspect that this reminder is the “grace” when we speak the truth in love. Again, I could be completely wrong. 

For me, the wearer of my heart on my sleeve, perhaps this disconnect from everyone and everything else is good as uncomfortable as it may be. It forces me to rely on my anchor too. I shouldn’t be overwhelmed by the underwhelming responses to the call for change. Neither should I be too quick to adopt the responses of “it’s alright” or “you cannot expect more” as these responses fly in the face of change. Perhaps as I receive these responses, I should keep seeking out my anchor. I am reminded of this by some verses in Hebrews because the sinful nature desists change. “We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek” (Hebrews 6:19-20). 

Maybe the disconnect is something we should all feel. It reminds us that we aren’t where we need to be and that the journey to where we need to get to isn’t an easy one. It reminds us of the one sure connection we have: our anchor in Christ. May we ever be disconnected from all else

and ever anchored to Jesus. 

This year has zipped by. I don’t know if it’s just me but it feels like 2018 was just starting! Although it has gone by so quickly, there are things that happened this year that I’ve learnt so much from. One of the biggest milestones for me was recognising and putting gaslighting to sleep. 

I never in a million years would’ve thought of myself as a victim of gaslighting. I knew of its existence and have even helped others work through instances when they were gaslighted. So it was almost like being struck by lightning when I realised that I myself have been a victim of gaslighting. What a revelation it has been. 

It isn’t a secret that from a very young age, I was the target of bullies who taunted me for being fat and ugly. It happened so often: I cannot tell you the number of times when a ‘concerned’ family member or friend has said to me that unless I lose weight, I would never be of interest to men. The bullying caused a lot of anger in me and when I finally confided in my parents, my mum went to work to help me overcome the effects of the bullying. I think she did an amazing job: I went on to have boyfriends and romance wasn’t something unattainable to me. 

What I hadn’t realised was that there was a more dangerous act of gaslighting going on, which I never before realised or acknowledged. So many times when a guy approached me and when I thought it was clear he liked me, I would have a seed of doubt planted in my head by some girl friend or other. Sometimes they said that the guy was actually paying attention to them and that I’d mistaken his attentions. Other times it was just immediately pointing out how his attentions were elsewhere instead of me- again, it would’ve been contrary to my reading of the situation. There were times when I may have expressed myself to a friend very cautiously but I would have had my own caution thrown back at me with an even more negative spin on it that essentially said it was impossible for me to be reading the situation correctly. The result of this: I could never tell when someone liked me. I never trusted my own instincts on this. I cannot also describe the extent of the voices I constantly had in my head as a result of this gaslighting over the years. 

It didn’t help that this gaslighting reinforced the bullying. They were separate instances but they tied in so very well with each other that I never realised. 

Over the years, beginning with my mum, I started dealing with the pain from the bullying. She reminded me of who I am in Christ and of how my ultimate identity was tied up to His and not related to how I looked. This is not easy to live out. I’m constantly reminded about how much I fall  below the benchmark of what the world considers beautiful. I think Jesus would vouch for the many angry conversations I’ve had with Him on that score. Still, there has been healing: I was able to have some pretty amazing relationships. There has been protection too: I’ve never been accepting of ill-treatment from any of my partners. Also- there is contentment.

Yet through all of this, there has been one huge area that was lacking. Every time I met a guy who seemed interested, I had a million voices in my head echoing the doubts that had been planted in me. These voices were loud. They took over completely and they were loud and clear: he’s not into me; he prefers my friend; he didn’t mean it as a compliment; etc. There were so many things that had been said to me whenever there was a guy in the picture to make me think that he wasn’t really there that I had somewhat skilfully started gaslighting myself! 

Yet, I must thank God. There has been genuine healing over the years and even though I didn’t know I still needed healing, He went on to show me that I did. 

Earlier this year, I met a guy who showed me massive amounts of interest. It was a really strange feeling because for the first time, I walked away realising that someone had paid me this attention and that he had very neatly got us to exchange numbers. The next few months with him were pretty amazing. I constantly had voices in my head telling me I wasn’t good enough but this time I was able to tell the voices to shut it! What a good feeling that was and what a change in how I was able to approach the whole relationship. It felt good to not be caught up in a shroud of doubt the entire time. It felt so good to be able to assess a situation without feeling vulnerable as a result of being told you’ve a lower self value. 

I don’t know if the change came along as a result of a book I’ve been reading on how to process shame with Jesus in the picture. All I know is that it has happened. I cannot imagine it having happened on my own strength or through my own wisdom as I was so caught up in things. So I’m pretty sure that this was God moving me forward. For this freedom from the voices, I am so grateful. Am looking forward to a new journey in 2019 as a result of this. I hope that as I walk through 2019, I find myself more confident in my identity as a follower and believer of Jesus for there is true freedom in that.