If you have ever spent time relating with God and studying His words, then you are undoubtedly familiar with the Psalmist's words, "Teach us to number our days that we may put our hearts to wisdom." After all, you are here to do same.  Following the mind of Solomon in proverbs, it is safe to say that wisdom is like a liberal homeowner who builds her house and prepares her table, inviting all and sundry for generous bites of her meal. It is like a flowing water that never runs dry. If wisdom is like a house, however, I believe it is held up by certain pillars. One is the fear of God. Others are prudence, knowledge, discretion, eternal value, understanding and righteousness. Wisdom is what makes the numbers count. It is ironic but it is true that when you take out wisdom from the number of days you live, or the measure of all you possess, it becomes quantity without quality. When the numbers don't count is when we don't find the necessary satisfaction out of our end...

Christ in me is the hope of glory. And hope, it is said, makes a man not ashamed. One morning, Taiwo thought to herself as she got dressed for work that this life was not worth it. "How can it be worth it when everything I've been doing is live from hand to mouth? What's the point really?" She thought out loud. Her room mate of twenty-five years and twin, Kehinde, heard her and asked, "Taiwo, what's the issue?" Taiwo turned around and threw her arms in the air. "This life does not make any sense!" "That's because you are trying to use your brain, babe. In this realm, we use our faith." Kehinde answered, as she also tried to put on her dress. "That's what you always say! Are you not bothered?" Taiwo asked incredulously. Taken aback, Kehinde asked, "Bother about what?" "Bothered that this life is not worth the stress. And that we should have been long past this stage of life. We're just trying to mak...

Sitting alone in my room one time, hands between my laps, phone tucked away, the world was far from reach, I slipped into depression. And again and again, I wept.  The pain I felt was deep and sharp. I didn't want to give up yet but there I was, shivering under the weight of heavy sobs. I was seeing my old self resurfacing. I was a mess. I panicked.  The tears ran their course unhindered. I didn't know what to do with myself because I feared I would once again become that person who hated to be here. I feared the past would win me over and repeat itself. Although, someone has gone through this for my sake, and was bruised. It shouldn't be a repeat for me. "...he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed."   - Isaiah 53:5 What was shocking was the still small voice that eventually managed to find its way into the raucous, pushed aside every hurtful detail, an...

 I remember when I first gained admission into secondary school some years ago. Fun fact: I attended a girls only school.  I also remember my dad branding my textbooks and notes. My uniforms were as long as what you can imagine, Pinafore flowing all the way to my ankles. And my school bag? That one always dragged itself along with me. Needless to say, I was small, smaller than most of my peers. I also got bullied by other students because of my stature. And guess what? Now that I'm grown, I realize it wasn't exactly because of my appearance. It was because I allowed it. My dad didn't want my books to be bullied away from me, so he took extra care, went the extra mile and branded them. Every single one of them. My classmates teased me for a while and I usually caved. Until I was in senior school and one of them confessed that she actually loved how much my dad catered for me then. She said she admired my branded books and all, and there I was cringing and caving, getting int...

Overwhelmed by guilt, with her face deep into her pillow, hands gripping the sheets, she wailed. She cried so hard, she couldn't find a way to stop. This deep seated feeling of pain and shame will not let her be. The tears were on a roll. Nothing mattered right now. She just wanted to be whole. To belong somewhere. To belong to someone who belonged to her. She struggled and searched. Until she found Him. Only for her to realise that she had been wanted from the beginning. The freedom that captured her heart was indescribable.  It was complete. She was complete. She had been looking without instead of looking within and finding all that she needed, to live the life she was made for. She was enough. I am she. She is you. She is us. Last week Monday, 4am to be precise, I got a mail from YouVersion. The first line caught my attention: "Let's talk about Anxiety." See, oftentimes, we are overcome by the imaginable and not the real. Our minds are clouded by the what-if...

 I have a piece of advice for you: Watch your back, you may be wanted!  Maybe the right question now is, why are you wanted? And, who wants you? Criminals who escape prosecution for cases such as rape, murder or other related crimes from one country to another are typically referred to as wanted persons. They are wanted to fulfil the consequences of their actions. Their pictures and names are pasted everywhere, on the walls of streets, on stalls in market places, on packed cars, taped to poles.  And they may become the talk of the town, depending on the gravity of their vices. However, wanted persons are not immune to being found and arrested, regardless of how wide the universe is or how far they choose to run. There is a chance of initiating an international search called Red Notice. This is initiated to locate and provisionally arrest the criminal pending any further legal actions. For the purpose of this search, the country where the crime was carried out will provide...

Yay! It's Freedom o'clock! That doesn't go without saying, happy independence, Nigeria.🥳 Have you ever heard the saying - "Monkey dey work, na baboon dey chop"? This is my reality in Christ. He fights and makes me the winner. Nothing beats being able to gain victory from a place of rest. It is not magic. It is not cheating. Well, maybe I can say Jesus is my cheat code. I mean, how do I explain my life? Full of Grace and miracles per second. No one has lived here before. Forget reincarnation. Psst! We are all finding out our consequences and realities as we go along. Only those who have hacked this faith thing in the finished work of Christ can see the future from the present. And even in cases where they don't see, they are held and led by the hand. This makes it seem they cheat through life. They are only walking with the one who knows the end from the beginning. The One who leads us in His green pastures! I remember once when I was young. We travelled to...