Happy New Year! Woohoo! This year holds a loooootttt of surprise packages for us, positive ones, I mean!  I'd like to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who made last year beautiful on this blog. THANK YOU, if you read a post or two. Or more! THANK YOU for your support, comments and encouragements. Thank you if you shared my blog posts! Honestly? Y'all are the best.  I would love to share with you how I took the news of the new year coming with random knocks on my door, ready to pull out 2022 by the ears, her hands ready to fly in the air and claim space and time. How do I even start explaining how I felt when I heard the news?  It was surreal. It felt like a dream. I was losing air. I couldn't breathe. My lungs seemed to have forgotten their function. It was not because of an appreciated ecstasy. It was excitement, but a different kind. This one engulfed my entire existence, and even though it felt familiar, I was trying my best to wish it away. Nothing made sense. The trut...

  There are so many details to appreciate God for as the year runs its course to the finishing line. It's been a wonderful track record. Today, I'll only be reminding you of these details so you can understand how much God has been faithful thus far. You can never go wrong with gratitude, if you thank God for these: 1. Forgiveness Looking back at your journey through the year, can you count the times you made errors simply because you are mortal? Yet, the father's forgiveness is ever available. In Orenze's words: He forgives sins because he's the friend of the sinner. He made you find your feet again when you thought you would sink. See? You didn't! And that was God. 2. Safety Ha. Personally, this is one golden gift I have received. Being kept in the hollow of His hands is the best location you can ever be. Safety is only found in God and one who God has not kept can not be safe. 3. Love Check your corner. I don't mean the corners of your room. I mean, the p...

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...