Grace for the soul

Tag: life

  • A Dog Called Gamora

    Daily writing prompt
    What is your favorite animal?
    View all responses

    I love dogs! I didn’t always have dogs but around 2010, I got my first dog whose name was Patches. Patches was a rescue we got around the time he was four. He was gorgeous. He had a white coat with black spots that seemed to fade at points. He had such a lovely personality and I nicknamed him The Turkey Thief because one Christmas he stole a turkey and ate it!

    My second dog was Loki. Loki didn’t live very long. I had to put him down when he was three. I had Loki from the time he was eighteen days old. His, was such a tragic story. All he knew from the moment he was born was pain and agony. Loki didn’t do well with people as a result of such deep rooted trauma. His eating and drinking capabilities were also significantly reduced. It was a hard decision, but the right one. He did have lots of love in his short three years.

    My present dog is Gamora. Gamora is half-pug-half-dachshund. Initially, after Loki died, I thought I wouldn’t take another pup. But a breeder was in desperate need to find homes for the pups after a pug (Gamy-girl’s dad) and a dachshund (Gamy-girl’s mum) fell in love and had a litter. Gamora chose me. She’s the first female dog I’ve had and she’s a beauty. I named her Gamora because of how she out-muscled her brother and made me pick her.

    Gamora’s an absolute sweetheart. She’s very different from Patches and Loki. Apart from being much smaller than the both of them, she’s also by far more intelligent. She seems to have problem-solving skills – especially when she sets her sights on something. She’s also incredibly brave in comparison to both Patches and Loki, which is hilarious. The hunter personality from her dachshund DNA is strong and she takes her duties patrolling my garden very seriously.

    I loved Patches and Loki with all my heart. In fact, I still love them. When I think of them, they make me smile. But there’s something about Gamora that has totally captivated me. I don’t know if this makes me bad and if I’m playing favourites here, but this little girl has simply got me. She’s got the most curious little way of worming her way to you. She does a sploot and then starts crawling towards you to give you the biggest, warmest licks of love. It’s her love attack position. She does get you. There’s no winning.

    She’s also incredibly matter-of-fact about what she wants. There’s no two ways. It’s either Gamora’s way or the highway! Every night when we go to bed, the same thing happens. She decides that she wants to sleep in the exact spot that I’m sleeping in. It doesn’t matter if she chooses first – but once we’re settled, she very confidently marches over and creates a space for herself. Even in the dark, you can feel her working it out. She makes you cooperate!

    Gamora loves people. She has a few favourite people who are often in our home. Some babysit her regularly and she shows them special greetings when they arrive. In the mornings, some of our neighbours have to stop by at our gate to greet her and have a moment with her. It’s poignant. I don’t need to be around – it’s their thing with her. Gamora makes her disappointment know if anyone of these gets into their car and drives off without greeting her. It doesn’t matter if they’re rushing off. She expects to be paid homage!

    Gamora also has favourites among delivery people. I dislike going shopping, and I try to reduce my having to go to physical shops by buying stuff online. Gamora has her special routines with some of the more frequent delivery folk. They tell me they love her and that it makes them happy knowing they’re coming to our home. One even told me that he knows our home address because of her! What’s amusing is that they actually take a moment to greet her and engage with her. She loves it.

    If there is one thing that motivates Gamora, it is food. Unfortunately for her, both pugs and dachshunds are prone to weight gain. It shows! It doesn’t help that Gamora is allergic to grass and has to be on some allergy meds, which seem to add to her weight dilemma. She doesn’t appreciate not being given my food, even thought she has just eaten hers. The look of heartbreak she manages to give, as if she’s been starved and abandoned her whole live and never has seen a day of kindness, is simply unmistakable. She’s got chops!

    The most difficult thing for me when it comes to managing Gamora is not having my dad around. When it came to Patches and Loki, my dad’s presence always helped. There are times when I need to be out for work. Patches and Loki always had my dad to fall back on to. Gamora only had my dad for about five and a half months. Saying this, her memory is remarkable. There are moments when she demonstrates her sorrow at his passing. Once the son of a friend who was visiting, a toddler, grabbed my dad’s walking stick from a corner it was in. It surprised me for a moment to see my dad’s walking stick and at the same time, Gamora became very quiet. I thought it was because she wanted to hide from the child. However, the friend left very shortly after that and when I got back inside, I couldn’t locate Gamora. I finally found her curled up next to my dad’s walking stick, looking at it with her sad puppy-dog eyes. It made me cry. This little girl is intuitive.

    I love this little girl and I love this time of my life where I’m working for myself and get to spend time with her. I wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s been such a special little gift to me from God and I am so thankful to him for her.

    Gamora draws people into her little galaxy. She’s full of love, cheer, and mischief. Love you loads, little Gamora!

    Patches and me
    Loki and me

  • Layers and Ingredients of My Home

    If you’re like me and you like baking, it is likely you often have conversations about it. I love it when friends or family send me pics of what they’ve made and share the experience of how the baking process went. I like doing the same as well.

    There are certain periods, such as the build-up to special celebrations or around Christmas, where conversations about baking and trialing become rife.  Whilst it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, I absolutely love it.

    A friend had popped into my mind as I put a Christmas fruitcake into the oven yesterday. Last year, she had made a fruitcake using a recipe of a friend of hers who had tragically passed away. So, I dropped her a note, and inevitably, we discussed making fruitcake.

    She mentioned how she loved the smell of the house when something has been baking. At that moment, the thing that had been pressing on my mind was the quality of the fruit I’d got this year. The cake supply shop that I’ve been going to for slightly over two decades had shut.

    There are some major baking franchise outlets in my town. They are well-known ones, but as I picked up dried fruit for the fruitcake, I couldn’t help but notice the difference. Even when I cut up the fruit, I couldn’t help but think that they were much dryer than what I was used to. This came up in my conversation with my friend. I told my friend how I had instinctively set aside a few more egg whites for whisking, in the event the batter was dryer than usual, as a result of the fruit.

    She commended me on my quick-thinking and went on to tease me for being a perfectionist in my baking. It was such an innocent comment, but it brought a whole load of memories flooding back to my mind.

    I saw it as clear as day as I typed out my response about the strength of the memory associations that I had related to the dried fruit. At the core of it was how much I am missing my mum and dad.

    When I first started baking at 13 years of age, baking supplies like dried fruit, weren’t easily available in the town I lived in. My dad would have to drive me to the city to get them. I remember my mum making calls to ask an aunt where they could be got, and my father, diligently driving me to get them.

    When I first started baking, my parents weren’t sure if my interest was just a fad or if it was something that was going to grow. My mum was never much of a cook or baker, and we didn’t have an oven. I used an ovenette, which was quite horrific because you couldn’t control the heat. Since fruitcakes took a long time to bake, my mum and dad would help me play around with the heat, by turning the ovenette off for a minute or two, just to make sure the cake wouldn’t burn.

    They loved the fruitcake and other cakes that I made, and by the time I was 15, they decided to buy me one of those big gas stoves with an oven at the bottom. I used that stove till 2020, when the freak flood that impacted my home destroyed it! Even with my new oven (at the time), supplies weren’t so easily available. My parents supported my baking through this. My mum would help me calculate what was needed and write a list, and my dad would drive me to get all the stuff I needed.

    Maybe when I was about 17, things started changing. More things were available in my town. Sometime after I got back from university, the cake supplies shop opened up in the housing estate next to mine. I could walk to it, but usually, I drove because it wasn’t easy carrying home stuff that I had bought.

    That cake supplies shop wasn’t a fancy shop at all. It was small and friendly, which I loved. The couple that ran it used to import dehydrated fruit from a family-run business in the US. The quality of the fruit was so notably different, that the first time I bought it, even my parents commented on how fresh it all was. I think as a family, we appreciated the turn of events.

    These memories are very strong for me. When mum died in 2006, I found it hard to think of baking or anything. It was papa who slowly encouraged me to get back to it. Until he passed away in 2023, he was always an eager volunteer for tasting anything that came out of my oven.

    Remembering this has made me realize why I feel a sense of deep sadness when I bake. When mummy passed away, that sadness came to reside. It has never left. Now with papa’s passing, it has taken up more space within. Oddly enough, I don’t want it to leave. It connects me to papa and mummy.

    This simple act of buying ingredients and baking, make me feel such a strong connection to the home I once knew. This memory makes me see that so clearly. This is the home that shaped me – from my faith, to every mistake I’ve made, and every success I’ve achieved. It is the home that both my dad, Stephen and my mum, Leela, with all their imperfections built for me. It is the home I miss dearly.

    I am grateful to God for my friend’s comment that triggered this entire memory. I am thankful to Him for the parents He blessed me with. I cannot thank Him enough. One of the Psalms that I like is Psalm 34, which is a Psalm of my favourite king David. Some of the verses in this Psalm are astounding:

    • I will bless the LORD at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth (Psalm 34: 1)
    • My soul makes its boast in the LORD; let the humble hear and be glad (Psalm 34: 2)
    • Those who look to him (the LORD) are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed (Psalm 34: 5)
    • Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him! (Psalm 34: 8)
    • The LORD is near to the broken-hearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalm 34: 18)

    There’s a lot more to this Psalm, but I like these verses because they are full of hope, and because they bless the LORD and recognize his goodness. The interesting thing about it all is that when David wrote this Psalm, his home at the palace was under threat because of king Saul.

    David had fled into Philistine territory, which was enemy territory, and in order to survive this, he pretended to be out of his mind. It is hard to imagine how low one would have to be to act this way. It was an awful, awful time.

    My life isn’t on the line like David’s was, and I am writing from far more comfortable settings than the Adullam caves, where he was likely hiding out. I know there is a debate on whether David sinned by feigning madness. Whilst I haven’t pretended to be mad (and let me just stop you right there, if you even think it’s because I don’t need to pretend!), I know that I have been called out for the sadness that I have felt.

    I have spoken and written about this sadness. There have been times when I’ve been told that my faith is weak, and that I am not showing good Christian character when I express this sadness. I’ve been told that I am not showing strength.

    It has been awful dealing with these. One of the comments after papa passed away was to the extent that since I had the experience of losing my mum, this wouldn’t be so hard to deal with. Who are they kidding? Do they know how present he was in my life?

    I may be in my own version of the Adullam caves (with plumbing and without bats). My home as I knew and loved it, is no more. It is hard to explain this feeling to many people. I don’t have brothers or sisters who grew up alongside me. The only two people who shared in the most significant parts of my history, are no longer here. There’s so much of me that they knew, which no one else knew. There are elements of me that they brought out, which no one else can. Their absence as individuals and as a unit in my life is something I feel so keenly.

    Yet, I hope that it is clear that despite this feeling of sadness, I have such a strong sense of thankfulness and gratefulness to God. He has given me so much for which I can only be thankful. When I look back at my parents and process our ups and downs, I can only say that I have been extraordinarily blessed.

    I don’t need to prove the strength of my faith or character to anyone. This isn’t a dance that I’ll be doing. I miss my mum and dad so very much. I miss them unashamedly.

    Papa and mummy, thank you for teaching me this faith. Thank you for growing me in Christ, and for helping me see that there is so much more ahead because of Jesus. I thank God for this blessing He gave me through you both. I thank Him for this memory that has triggered such a strong feeling of connection to you. Bless the Lord, indeed!

  • Sheer Grace

    Sheer Grace

    I have COVID, and it has meant isolating for a few days. It has given me some time to reflect. This time last year was very difficult for me. I was being made redundant and the entire process of redundancy felt so very overwhelming.

    One of the things that alerted me about the length of time that has passed, was a renewal notice for my website’s domain. At the time I’d signed up for it, with the help of a dear brother, I wasn’t sure of what I was going to do. I purely wanted to play around with things, see if I could come up with an idea, and he told me about the Black Friday deals. It made sense to take advantage of them. What was the worst that could happen? If nothing materialised, so be it.

    In January this year, I went to Istanbul with some friends. It was a lovely trip, and although it feels so very far away, I remember clearly some of the things that I felt on the trip.

    I felt that I was being challenged in my own mind. It had been some months since I’d started the job hunt, and so many things didn’t feel right. Offers that came my way, packages thrown at me for consideration – none of it felt right. This was odd, given that some of these were the kind of jobs I had long desired, and in locations that I had always wanted to be in. I had no peace with any of this.

    At that point, I wished I was better at praying. I was so grateful for the fact that Jesus interceded for me. This was a big comfort because I was finding it hard to pray with all the distractions, and the tiredness that came about because of stress and worry. Now, a year later, I am again thankful for this same knowledge that I have.

    I am so glad I have set up my own consultancy. I trust that this is where God has led me. I have felt a sense of purpose about my work, and a real sense of satisfaction that I had long forgotten. I wasn’t always happy in my last job. In fact, most of the time, I was frustrated and the sense of uselessness prevailed over me.

    I hadn’t quite understood how disengaged I had become, thanks to countless U-turns and barriers at work. I wasn’t enjoying my work at all, and because I worked for a Christian organisation, the level of guilt that I felt was inexplicable.

    Many a time, I wondered if I was disobeying God through my discontentment and dissatisfaction. I wondered if I was missing the point, and if I had to learn something, which I simply wasn’t yet learning.

    It is funny how I fell into the thinking that God was maybe not happy with me, and therefore things were awry. That couldn’t be further from the truth, for the God I believe in isn’t petty. Yet, I started worrying for a moment about how I wasn’t praying enough, perhaps, or I was just not doing enough.

    This was my frame of mind when I went to Istanbul. I saw and felt so much.

    There is so much history in Istanbul – history that I think is riveting. I think the battle for Hagia Sophia, when the Ottomans conquered Istanbul, was mind blowing. It’s one of my favourite battle stories. I think the young Sultan Mehmet II was amazingly clever in how he took over the Hagia Sophia.

    However, once the opulence of the Ottomans ended, it was such a difficult time of struggle for everyone in Turkey. Things never got back to the glory days, and then they were impacted very badly by the World Wars. It feels like the country has never recovered to its former self.

    Yet, what did I see in Turkey? I saw people clinging to ways of life that they hold dear. There is a pride in the beauty of their lamps, carpets, and other craft. There is appreciation for their nature, including stray animals. It felt like all their dogs and cats were on steroids! There is high esteem for the tea mixes that they put together, the sweets that are made, and the spices that are sold. It was beautiful.

    It made me reflect on my own faith. Life isn’t always kind. There has been so much loss in my life. For me, losing mummy was devastating. I never expected to go through such devastation again when I lost papa. In between, there was some sort of recovery, but never to the point that it was before she passed on.

    Now, I find myself trying to keep going. As I try to grow a business, I feel a deep sense of sorrow for the loss of my home. I feel despair at points, because there is no turning back the clock to happier days, when I sat with my parents, and then for many years – with just my dad, discussing something or other.

    There is a sense of past glory. How it all used to be. There were great conversations. We spent time together. We fought. We laughed. It’s all gone.

    Yet, I have a sense of pride about my home. I want to go on making sure that friends and family are welcome. I never want this to end. I want to always be a good host. I want to do a good job at work – even if I don’t have my mum and dad to talk to about this. I want to have a sense of enjoyment.

    Setting up my own consultancy, has given me this sense of satisfaction at work. I suddenly feel useful again. It was sheer grace from God that helped me author a book in 3.5 months. It was His grace that opened the doors to the esteemed publishers that immediately offered me a publishing contract.

    It is His grace alone that has kept my RA at bay while I have worked on my book, my website, and on trying to get myself out there. I have even launched a podcast. Sheer grace.

    I know it isn’t the strength of my prayers that’s doing this. Sometimes, I’m so sad when I go to sleep that I cry. Gamora licks my tears, and I fall asleep. I forget to pray. Sometimes, I am so overwhelmed by the difficulty of it all. I say a quick 5-second prayer. So heartfelt. Not!

    I know full well that my discipline, my fervor, and consistency in my prayers have been in absolute shambles. I am exhausted. I no longer have my parents covering me in prayer. Yet, I know that in this regard, I don’t just have a vague idea of some glory days, I have a living Saviour. Jesus intercedes for me.

    Fact – I have quite a bit to do to grow my business. Fact – I am dependent on God for grace. Fact – I cannot earn this grace. I keep failing. Fact – I don’t have to earn this grace. It has been given to me so freely.

    I didn’t fully have the words to put to what I witnessed in Istanbul in January, and the realizations it invoked in me. But sometime in April, when our church did the book of Ruth, I understood my reality. God’s kindness to Ruth and Naomi is hard to fathom. In the beginning, even Naomi doubts it. She hasn’t been faithful.

    Yet, God’s blessing comes upon Naomi (through Ruth) even though she had ventured far from His blessing. This faithfulness extends to all believers now. All of us who were ‘far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ’ (Ephesians 2:12 – 13).

     I feel like I have been granted the same grace, if not more. I would be remiss if I fail to recognize God’s loyal kindness in my life. I don’t think that the messiness of life, or its meanness, and sorrows will ever stop His grace. It is because of the lows, that the highs become even more obvious. And for this, I am so grateful.

    Whilst I hope that my prayer life improves, and that I get better at doing some of the things that I should, my ultimate prayer is this: that I always recognize the grace that is in my life and that forms my reality, and that I hold firm to this, despite the heartbreaking loss of home that I feel.

    Papa and mummy, this would’ve been a wonderful conversation to have had with you. I miss you.

     

    March 1999
    A wonderful day out
    A celebration!
    Showing love

     

     

     

  • The Partnership

    The last two months of 2024 were filled with stress because I was losing my job. Being made redundant has not been a pleasant experience. It really delivers a sucker punch and sucker punches make you reel. There has been angst about direction. It’s hard to plan when you’re reeling. I’ve lost the sleep rhythm that I worked so hard to gain. Since November, sleep has been fitful at best. Not great.

    Yet, this morning, there’s a song in my heart. There’s been such a huge turnaround in how I’m feeling. Tomorrow, on 8 March 2025, in conjunction with International Women’s Day, I am launching a new consultancy. I’ve had the desire to set up some kind of business for some time now, having done so in the past. Some of the journeys that I took were great, but not easy. Well, I say that I’m ready, now, after ages of waiting. I had such a great experience with a partner when I set up a business from scratch. There was so much I learnt from him about fairness and contentment in negotiations. I learnt about boundaries from him and it meant our partnership was healthy. When we ended the business, it was nothing to do with us not getting along, but rather that it was time to move on. To me, having a partner was such a great journey that I always thought that I needed to have a partner to start something new. Hence the delay. It’s not easy to find someone on the same page as you. Before anyone says anything, okay – so maybe my page has got a few dog ears, rips, and isn’t terribly pristine!

    When I started taking a look at jobs to apply for, there were lots more things I needed to think about this time. I have been working from home since before the pandemic started, partly due to the different time zones, which made it impossible to keep a 9-5 schedule and partly due to changes in my own health situation. I struggle with rheumatoid arthritis and RA is a progressive disease and at that point I was dealing with terrible fatigue. Right now, as I write this, inflammation levels are normal and I’m target for remission if I can keep this going for a bit. The sickening part is that even if I do things right, I don’t control how my body works and how the disease behaves. I am conscious of how this affects my commuting to a new job and with all that’s being done to reverse things to onsite work, which I find most frustrating, taking a job in the city, may mean moving to the city. At this point, I’m not sure it’s what I want to do. I’m not as enamoured as I was about living in the city some years ago. A move feels like additional change. I feel I need a bit of stability given how much change has taken place in such a short time. These are all now factors that I cannot ignore when considering job options.

    The other thing is I’ve not found a rhythm since losing my dad. What does this mean? It means I no longer have someone at home with me to be there for or who is there for me. I don’t know how to manage it. When I had Patches, Loki and for the brief period that he was alive when Gamora arrived, my dad helped me with these furry creatures who wormed their way into our hearts and home. It made a difference. I was free to go out and work and even if my workday ended up being a twelve- or fourteen-hour day, my dad was at home with them. They weren’t locked in on their own. I don’t have that same back up with Gamora now. I have to really thank God for my cousin, whom I call Gamora’s fairy-godmother who turns up for Gamora more than I expect. Tomorrow, when I host the drop-in for my new venture, she’s taking Gamora with her for the day. Her mum, my aunt who says she’s Gamora’s fairy-god-grandma also steps in a lot. A lot of the time on short notice too. The reality is, my cousin is working in a demanding job herself. She has a lot on her plate and my aunt has a lot to do in her life. It’s different from my dad who lived here with me and was just there. I used to come in and say ‘Papa, I’m so sorry and thank you,’ on the days that I was especially late for I knew that my four-legged darlings were safe. This isn’t the only way, but my dad’s not being around has made such a difference to my life. It is another factor for me to consider as I think of next steps work wise. It’s easy to throw out suggestions like a dog day care, but as much as Gamora’s a bouncy little juggernaut, her bounciness and confidence comes from her closeness to me. She’s terrified otherwise and I see it when I take her to get her nails done. She cannot handle all the other dogs and you can see how overwhelming it all is. Her little heart thumps so fast and loud that when I carry her back to the car, I can feel it beating. I don’t have a rhythm without my dad.

    The idea of starting a business, is as I said something I’ve been keen to do. Yet my hunt was for the right partner, and the right idea. Whatever it was had to be sustainable. Whoever it was with had to be workable. I admit I have worried about this a lot. Over a conversation, one of my wise friends said that it sounded almost as if the perfect partner was Jesus. It’s one thing to know Biblical truths, it’s quite another to have some of them repeated to you in a thoughtful way. I did wonder what the hold back was. Maybe I was worried about this partnership. The truth is, in a partnership between Jesus and me, the only one likely to fail is me. Ouch.

    My prayer has been for several things. It’s been to help quell the intense sadness I feel without my dad, which in turn is opening up my mum’s absence. My parents were such ordinary people. Not at all savvy in business or the ways of the world. They didn’t know naughty nuances in language, so they didn’t get a lot of naughty jokes. They weren’t brilliant at investing their funds – it was always safe options. There was a lot of learning to live within our means. They didn’t keep up with anything trendy. It was not their thing. Yet, they were faithful to their God. They taught me all about Him to the best of their abilities. They made mistakes and talked about failings. They apologized when necessary. They were practical about things that were life and death. There was a steadiness about them. There was nothing flash. Just faithful, calm, steady folk. I miss them. I longed so much for the opportunity to just chat to them about how things unfolded in my last job and all the things I need to now consider as I take steps forward. I miss their quiet wisdom. My other prayer has been for direction. I don’t know whether I’m meant to get a job or if I should start a business. I’ve been applying for work and somehow there’s been a push to go about doing things to set up a business. There have been conversations about freelance opportunities and the idea of setting up a website came up. As I applied for jobs and moved about to set up, I found myself more drawn to the later. There were more pieces falling into place and before I knew it, I am here, on the eve of launching my new consultancy.

    I’m excited and nervous all in one. I’m sad because I miss my parents. I’m exhilarated from the work done on the website. How I enjoyed working on it. There was so much support on how to get the technicalities done – it was more than a prayer answered. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction and a drive to keep going every time I sat down to work on it. It’s such a wonderful feeling when you’re content. I’ve enjoyed conversations on work and options that lie ahead. There’ve been introductions and amazing suggestions. These offers and suggestions have spurred me on. I felt a sense of worry slip away. As I worked on my website, some gave me great feedback, little things that you miss because you’re in your head. It was helpful to make tweaks and find myself feeling an even greater sense of joy as the webpage unfolded. Some gave me praise and many assurances. I cannot tell you how supported I’ve been feeling with my launch happening tomorrow. One cousin drove from so far just to drop stuff off for me to use for the launch. I walk a tight balance of managing RA related fatigue, so this help goes a long way. She’s been asking me to keep her posted on what else needs doing. My other cousin, Gamora’s fairy-godmother has offered to take Gamora out and keep her for the day. The stress that takes off me where managing Gamora is concerned is inexplicable. Friends have been checking in and doing all sorts – I am so grateful.

    As I consider how things unfold, I realise that there’s been only one reason why I’ve been so supported. For me, it is crystal clear that God has been making sure I don’t sink. I’ve been feeling embattled, inadequate, and scared. I worry about my relevance, my expertise, and my ability to move forward. In the past, I would’ve focused on all the people who haven’t turned up and I’d have lost even more confidence. This time, I feel almost like the birds of the air and the grass of the field that God looks after (Matthew 6: 25-34) – I am cared for! I’m seeing this through the different people that have come into my life. Today, I took some minutes to send a special message to some of these who have been especially prominent – I am beyond grateful.

    My circumstances haven’t really changed. My home is shattered as is my heart. I don’t have my mum and dad with me. I think there’s no recovery there. I’ve had to say goodbye to working alongside some of the loveliest people I know. Six years getting to know them and developing friendships and those regular interactions are now different. I’m saddened by this upheaval. I need a job – well a source of income, and starting a new business isn’t the easiest thing to do. Has anyone looked at the state of the economy recently? I’ve reason to be worried. Yet, there is a peace deep within. I’m not spiraling despite all that’s happened. I have joy, even. Unexpected joy, but unmistakable. There is contentment. There is excitement. Maybe it is because I’m experiencing God’s love through all the different people He’s sending along. I’m being cared for, cherished, and it’s mind blowing. I am indeed a recipient of grace.

    Whilst I cannot guarantee that the clarity I have in this moment will remain constant (though it be my fervent prayer!), I am thankful for this insight. We’ve not been promised lives without trial. It is through these trials that we experience grace. Grace when it comes at these points is sweet. It overwhelms you. It nurtures and fills you. It is in this moment of grace that I can say ‘Oh taste and see that the LORD s good!’ (Psalm 34:8). My favourite king David wrote that psalm when he was in such turmoil that he had to pretend he was a nutcase. He received grace. I pray that this will always be my posture – to be a ready recipient of grace despite the circumstances that come my way.

    Papa and mummy, I think you’d be proud of this new venture. How I wish I could share it with you! I love and miss you.

    The bloom that greeted me this morning from my Lombok creeper.