IN CHRIST

Another unplanned sequel to yesterday's post 😄😄

The old testament documents halorts and their ways a couple of times .

But yesterday's harlots had me on hook.

These ones were not just in the same 'proffesion" , they were economically mindful so to even share a house.

 

To them, individual privacy didn't seem like a thing they prized , they were bare with each

 other;so much so that they had access to each others children.

Then one day , there's death in their house . 

Now they are facing both a legal fight on whose child is alive and an enemity.

A separation that would alter their coexistence.

Thing with harlotry especially if conception happens is, the uncertainty of fatherhood. In such case ,the woman knows she'll have to solely shoulder the parental responsibility . 

So let's unpack a few thoughts that sat heavy on me yesternight.

1️⃣Both babies were safe at their mother's breasts. 

Then one mother turned and laid her whole body on their baby ,it died . 

Imagine a mother waking up to find her own flesh was the instrument that killed her baby😭😭well,that's what our own righteousness and strivings of the flesh produced ,death, so God called it filthy rags .

Paul records in Ephesians 6 that to be able to withstand in the evil day ,one of the armoury you will need to put on is the breastplate of righteousness. 

It is the positional stand in Sonship. And it is imputed to us . We wouldn't have gotten it any other way .

Gal 4:6 Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts... crying Abba father

The breastplate of righteousness guarantees our security in Him as sons .

When your breastplate is on , how you are "sleeping" is not on you but on your father ,Unlike the harlot who wanted to clear her mess using trickery .

2️⃣Another thing to look into is the sharp sword Solomon asked for .That was what he needed to use to effect justice to the two warring mother's .

Now , Paul echoes again about the sword ⚔️ take the Sword of the spirit which is the Word of God . The Word of God is living,it is active , it is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." See how quickly the King established who the mother to the living child was.The sword will always come to cast down every argument that tries to exalt itself against the knowledge of God.

 

3️⃣Another thing to look into is that fact the baby died on day three .

First,this case was the GRAND REVEAL of the kings wisdom.

So when Paul is saying Christ became to us the wisdom of God,the grand display of it was in the execution of our redemption from the kingdom of darkeness , translating us into the kingdom of the son of His love . 

All this in 3 days of his death , resurrection, ascension and glorification. 

 Day three,came with the fulfillment of what Isaiah prophesied "Gods pleasure would prosper in His hands. God's will had now found one who fully satisfied it.

We were now justified and at peace with God.

4️⃣Another factor to look into is ,when the baby was being swapped , his mom was sound asleep , she heard nothing , until when she woke up to realise no,this is not mine child.

The king would have condemned her for oversleeping and not keeping an eye on her baby but he treated her as one who was awake the whole time by offering her an instantaneous verdict in her favour . 

5️⃣Another factor to consider is Boldness .The audacity and courage the true mom had when she woke up to go face the king seeking justice ,you and me can boldly come to the throne of Grace , there we find grace and mercy to help us in time if need . Infact the King tells us to fear not, there's a table laid out for us 

6️⃣Finally, let's look at the same mom back at home .

 She had a guarantee that as long as she in the house, it was her baby who's there with her .The justice executed gave her a guarantee and security.

Because where the word of a king is there is power . 

Here's the best thing about this story,that we have the Holy spirit as a guarantee of our inheritance,like the woman left the kings chambers with a surerity that this is my son 

. 

Jude 1:1 reminds us that we have been preserved in Christ .

🤎In Christ. 🤎 in Him we no longer need to shoulder the weight and bear the cost of the seed 'conceived' in harlotry.

🤎In Christ🤎is where we are kept. Not by vigilance. Not by performance. Not by staying awake through the night .

🤎In Christ🤎 where our treasure is .

✨no thief can steal 

✨no rust or moth can destroy 

We began when they were in an abode , we end by telling you Christ is our abode .

#May29 #30daysconsistencychallenge #InChrist

INSTRUCTED FAITH

Genesis 12:1-5

Hebrews 11:1-3

Faith is introduced as a shield in Ephesians 10:6 because it is a protective armour intercepting attack.

Why is it impossible to please God without Faith? 

Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of God ,that means our ears must be attentive to hear and be diligent to obey his word.

Faith in nature is evidenced by hope of the unseen but birthed by belief and obedience of a spoken word from God . Before Abraham was called the father of faith God had instructed him #ToDo .His obedience to the word was unwavering even when circumstances dictacted he should have questioned the " unfairness" of the instruction of sacrificing an only son.

Abrahams response to the instruction was to be  obedience because God's instruction is obeyed not opinion polled .

When God instructs,we obey fully persuaded that even when all around us speaks otherwise His Romans 4:18-24

In Luke 22:32 Jesus prays for Simon that though the enemy has asked to sift him his Faith May not fail because failed faith mis a result of a staggered belief . Simon had been with Jesus ,he had actually gone out at the word of the Master and had lackednothinng because he was steadfast and firm in the word KKI spoken to him and other disciples.

Fiery dirts of the enemy are quenched by faithy pool for it is a shield.It nullifies anything in 

Lolcontrary to what God has said .Faith is made real by the Word of God because the kjjjjjk KKI is living ,powerful and it is effective ..

T pool look like qolo9oooo ok ooql Proverbs 4:20 Instructs that we pay attention to what the Father has to say and to incline our ears to his words for they are life ...

The words of the Father build faith in us because they are to be trusted.

Hey Daddy

Father .

Great title.

Attached to it is strength, responsibility,courage, provision, covering,love .

We are all products of one,whether present, transitioned absent or a present absentee.

The first role of a father was to transition our existence from seed to fruit through  birth.

See;Within it, SEED has this incomprehensible potency to how much fruit it can bear but the fruitfulness of a seed is also dependent on how well the ground it is sown on  has been tilled .How well the caregiver of the farm has taken care of the ground he needs the seed to bloom and flourish in.

As the seed, God has given the great mandate of raising us to the men we call father's .He has empowered them with wisdom so divine that they may not be stuck or incapacitated at any stage of a SEEDs' life .

Isn't it amazing the weight and the sacredness  that is stored up within the father's ,that God would command us to obey them inspite of where they are in life and it's unfolding ? That our obeying them would be tied  our lives longevity ?

Why father's day? 

Because champions are worth celebrating,honouring and loving.

To remind them that we hear them ,Get them and Need them.

 #DadIsDestiny 

The expression of a wise man leaving an inheritance for His children and His children's children is not only  scripture to fill up the Holy Bible  but a statement to tell a son/daughter  that the father/father figure has the ability to lay a foundation that generations  after Him can build on ,that is legacy . A father can stand and on His shoulders generations can soar to heights unfothamable .

Interestingly , it's upon a father to train up a child in the way to go because he has been given divine foresight.

#TheBlessing

Words are powerful because of the innate creative nature they bear .

Dads are positioned to speak curated words to BLESS .God has bestowed upon the father's  the grace to make decrees and have them established.

And in establishment is prosperity.

#Needed 

The Account of the prodigal son in Luke 15 is one that fascinates me.

This young,wealth bearing man fritters away his inheritance then figures I need not to suffer because I Have a Father and though my portion of inheritance is Wasted I still have a place in his House .

His mission was simple and defined ; To Get up ,To Go ,To Say .

That was a broken and contrite heart; that kind of heart can Not be despised .

And look what the Father does ,He bestows Honor  on Him.

Because a father seeks to have a son remain a son not a servant regardless.

While teaching His disciples on how to Pray it was pivotal for Jesus to introduce God to them as Father because they needed to relate with Him in prayer as such . Who you are to the father isn't changed by what you have done .His thoughts towards you are perfect and they are to prosper you ..

#HeyDaddy 

It may have been tough raising a daughter that has decided to stray 

It may have been hard being a daughter to a father who exasperates and shoots me down,that crippled my esteem, self worth.

You have missed many chapters of my life I deemed important because life happened.

I have missed coming to tell you  dad I'm dating this guy  to just see your facial expression 🤠 without being afraid.

Your approval is something I have looked forward to;to just hear you say Daughter I am proud of you because you mean it and so far so good .

Both of us have been on different life courses .

We are here now .

Thank you for making it easy to develop  and bloom a  relationship that has been inexistent and rough for years .

I hear you 

I Need you ,

Always will .

❤️

Wounds,Healing,Light

Eventually you will come to understand that love heals everything, and love is all there is. ~Gary Zukav

Of all the relationships in my life, my most intimate and long-standing one was my relationship with my wounds. It was not a happy relationship, nor a loving one, but it was a relationship nonetheless. My wounds and I, we spent over a decade together. Even the most obnoxious sidekick becomes comforting after that many years of just showing up at your side. If you wake up every day to the same old biting pain and the same old tired story of who you are, it all becomes part of the scenery. Just the way things are.

As a child, when I got hurt, I’d hold out my bruised knuckle to my grandmother’s lips. Somewhere inside that childish ritual lies a hint of awareness about our inner nature. We know that love heals all wounds. As a kid, I was just doing what I had seen the adults do. When you get hurt, you ask for love. That worked for me, at least for a while.

As children, we open our hearts uncondition-ally. We take whatever we are given. We trust that what we are being given is good for us. After a while, however, I was no longer getting little scratches. I was getting deep, raw cuts. Opening myself led me into whirlwinds of pain. I didn’t know what to do. I held my wounds out to my grandmother, but all I got was anger and rejection. Confused, I held my wounds out to others only to be met with the same sorts of reactions – laughter, anger, indifference. What used to help was no longer effective. The wounds became more and more serious as I grew older. Just to take away the blinding pain of walking around with open injuries exposed to the world, I put bandages on them. At the time, it seemed like a great idea. The pain was gone and the wounds were covered. I breathed a sigh of relief.

A little while later, the pain came back. From underneath the bandage, I felt the throbbing pulse of infection. Confused and frightened, I put on another bandage, and then another. Each application would help for a while but, soon enough, the same old pain would return. Though the bandages would conceal the cut, the skin underneath was red and infected. Sometimes, I would look at my bandages and see that the swollen skin around them. I would get frightened. The mere sight of my injuries gave me anxiety. Having no other options in sight, I just put on more bandages. Not knowing how to heal, I settled for removing the dis-comfort of fear and pain.

Most people thought I was strange. After all, who wants to be around a girl covered in bandages? For a while, I thought: no one. Then, I found other bandaged people, people just like me. When I found them, I rejoiced. Finally, some company! Finally, peo-ple who would understand me, talk to me, and relate to me! There, within the confines of dark walls and equally dark stories, I found solace in similarity. There, too, I learned a thing or two about being wounded, about being bandaged.

The first thing I learned was that every set of bandages needed a story. I came up with my own set of excuses and justifications. I gathered the most shocking and the most horrific moments in my life and con-veniently packaged them into a narrative. As time went on, I altered the story. Some bits were just too raw, too real for even the wounded. I took those parts out. Other parts, however, never ceased to shock and impress. Those, I exaggerated. In the world of wounds and sto-ries, I also learned about bandages. I learned all the newest tips and tricks for how to cover your wounds with style and mystery, how to hide in plain sight, how to live through a mask. I learned to be dark and to love being dark. Soon enough, I was covered in bandages head-to-toe. I could have been anyone, even a plastic doll. There was nothing human about me, except that deep down under all those layers, I still needed love.

In a community of bandage worshipers, ne-glect of the external self is normal. Everyone stuffs themselves full of whatever they can get their hands on, anything that helps them avoid themselves. People lie, hide, and hate themselves. Everyone has their own, personally branded, way of self-destructing. They define themselves by their bandages. In that place, when we saw someone who wasn’t covered in bandages, someone we called “normal,” we’d assume them to be boring, stupid, or deficient somehow. We had to. We had to believe that what we were doing was right. We had to do anything that we could to keep putting on those bandages, to keep hiding from the pain.

Relationships there were horribly painful. We would try to come together, but the wounds under the bandages hurt too much. We were stuck and helpless. If we stayed distant, we felt empty. If we came together, we writhed in pain. Again and again, we tried to love each other, but we just weren’t willing to do what was necessary. I’m not sure if this is true, but I suspect now that we all knew, deep down, what was necessary. We just didn’t want to admit it. We just kept bandaging and hurting. Lying and hiding.

After a while, bandages just weren’t enough. I had learned all the best ways to use them, but the skin underneath was now covered in puss- and blood-filled blisters that would pop on contact. Just walking around, people would bump into me and rub my wounds through the bandages. I’d exclaim in shock and pain. It became harder and harder to keep a straight face everywhere I went. These incidents got more and more frequent as the wounds spread under the cover-up.

That was when I met her. In a crowd covered with mere gauze, she was gleaming with steel. Her face never showed pain. When people brushed by her, they winced. She didn’t. She would look down at them and laugh. At that moment, I suddenly noticed that, no matter how thick their bandages were, the people in my little world were walking around with pain in their eyes – except for her. She didn’t have pain. Her eyes were cold and empty. From the moment I first saw her, I knew that I wanted to be just like her.

Soon enough, I became a perfect replica. I had my very own suit of armour. There, I was the queen of the bandage worshippers. They looked up to me be-cause I had what they wanted. I had freedom from pain. As time went on, the people around me either left or got armour of their own. After all, a girl who can’t feel emotions is just not safe to be around for people who can. They had to either get their own protection or get away from me.

Inside the armour, I was numb. I couldn’t feel the outside world and I couldn’t feel my skin. There was no more pain, but it didn’t feel good. There was no pain and there was no more pleasure. I was numb and empty. I knew that, no matter how much I tried to hide it, underneath all that armour, I was dying. My real flesh was oozing toxic sludge. My body was decaying and I didn’t have much time. To the bandage worshippers, I looked like I had everything under control. I knew – and all the healthy people around me knew – that it was all an armoured charade.

I tried to ignore the truth, but no one can do that for very long. I played in my metal armour for as long as I could before I got too weak to move, too weak to lie, too weak to play the game anymore. In every sickness, there comes a point of no return. Every bandaged, wounded person whose skin is on the point of necrosis has to make a choice: let it kill me or let me heal. In that moment, the risk of vulnerability suddenly became secondary to the risk of remaining hidden. There, I disassembled the armour. There, I peeled off the bandages, one by one, crying and screaming. Each one would take with it chunks of my flesh. Parts of me were already dead and many others were close.

Those were some of the most painful moments of my life and, sometimes, I still find little pieces of bandages lodged in my skin or hidden in my old possessions. After I realized the truth of my infinite and permanent self, I took the pain of raw, exposed wounds for what it was: necessary. It was the only way to heal. The only way to heal any wound is to keep it open, exposed. Temporary, but excruciating, pain is the price of healing. The bandages may cover it up for just a moment, but in the end, they only become a sick addiction.

My story’s not really unique. Most of the people who are passionate about healing others, about helping others find love, truth, and happiness have known love hunger. A healer is someone who seeks to be the light that she wishes she had in her darkest moments. 

When you’re starving to death and you suddenly find food, it’s like a miracle. That’s what this was like. It was like a miracle. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced one of those, but when you do, you just want to share it with the world..

Vironica Tugareva

Bags and Cells 😎

Its Saturday morning .

You put on that shirt dress and just before you leave one braincells shouts, how are you carrying  the same bag you've carried the entire week?  You  are slaying. 

You step back and think aah,  I own a sling bag so let me change. And changing you do. 

Arise and shine, its Sunday and being a mom baby don't know nothing about no sling bag (Insert Carole sound voice)  you got to carry the baby bag. Fully packed with extra,infact two sets of clothes,  diaper, food, water and other baby essentials but you somehow  find a mini pocket for your bible, phone and wallet. 

 You sleep for three minutes after ironing your weekly handkerchiefs  and boom its Monday, 7AM. I said Monday 7AM. The day the good Lord has made, but were it your boss being asked she'd probably  say only lethargic  people wake up at 7 on a monday we thank God its not in her docket to command mornings.

You almost carry the baby bag to work but hey, it is Monday and Mondays are for meetings and nobody in heels carries a baby bag.

Remember that last week handbag which you didn't even remember to dust off?  You go back to it and because all your braincells slept as you did, they don't remind you of the coin pouch you slid into your sling bag which had your office key. Braincells 🙄

You kiss the sleeping  little one goodbye and you are out ready for the day. 

You strut your way through the Unified Poa queue(Guys people in Githurai Queue) 

You are excited, you  got the seat you wanted , thingbwith being the one near the bus  window you decide when and how long the bus will have a flow of fresh air? 

Around safari park the Kange gets up and begins doing what he came to work to do. You see him a few seats ahead and because your mama said always  be ready you reach  out for your wallet, damnit, You forgot it in the baby bag. See, at 7Am 

Braincells were dreaming. The memory of your wallet wasn't in their to-do morning  list .

You enter rest knowing you have a savior by the name 'coin pouch'. Infact, you even  pay attention to Maina kageni selling  you some land on the Eastern bypass  

before the makanga gets to you and getting he gets. You begin  the Handbag ransack. 

The conductor gives you your space, you  do the abra kadabra in your bag , nothing. 

The guy seated next to you  is an amazing man, well raised in a loving home. You know the homes that had "Christ is the head of this home" wall hanging  as both an interior decor piece and as a guide for the family?  Exactly. He probably  is a first born . Githurai men are a rare breed. He asks to help you pay off your transport, #sigisteshillings. Say,  manna from heaven! 

He knows humans forget, moreso those from Githurai. 

He is easy . Thank you is all you can say because no braincell is awake to remind you its courteous to ask his name. 

Around Utalii, the bell ringing braincells is up and hey he (yes he) comes with some good news. 

"Mpesa yako haikosangi kakitu, ni nini, rudishia huyo jamaa sigiste zake"

True to 'he's word there's a clean 'one twedi 'shillings. 

If lazy cell had woken up, you'd be able to address the kind hearted gentleman by his name but hey girl code instructs  if you  don't know people especially kind people from Githurai by name call them  "my dear"

You  ask to refund  him. 

Boy is too bougie  for your 100 .Khaki wearers are bougie in nature though.  He plays cooler than Nivea boys.

You are in Ngara and your colleagues  are blowing up your cell phone. 

You alight and walk to the CBD. Traffic is good at times people, it gets you  walking. 

The elevator gets you to the seventh floor (another 7) 😏

On normal Mondays,  you hug your colleagues but on this abnormal one nothing but communal greetings. 

Season 2 of Handbag Ransack is here. 

You reach out for the pouch, again! Stupid ,right?

Quick fix. 

Call mama Wa Chai to serve them along the corridors as you Bolt home. You can get away with it. You are HR anyway. 

Ladies, Do not let no cell decide what bag you ought to carry on what day.  Do You Boo

👝 👝 👝 

QUARANTINED ? NO WAY !

The Ebola scourge stormed with a bang,took away friends,families, countries  left mourning and in pain knowing no cure to the deadly bane. If the lives that were lost had a hint of what would to befall them they would have fleed . It has taken  the  worlds' intervention to try salvage the Situation. Look at this, how much humiliation do you think the affected and people presumed to be infected go  through anytime they go to a location and everybody flees ? Anytime they visit a different country and they have to go through the screening process over and over as compared to others?
As sad and ugly as it is so long as their neck of the woods  is the genesis of the disease they do not have much choice but adhere to what's required.
Consider this, when they are separated and put in a location where no one is interacting or helping them that must be a heart wrenching and breaking place to be at.
But what does the Bible tell us about isolation? God inspite and despite our 'Ebola' said He will never leave us nor forsake us.
He fights our battles, heals and takes our pain and He is always on our side.
You are never quarantined or tucked away. He is with you till the end of age.

He is always on your side.

NOTHING ECTOPIC

Interior design is one of my passions and overtime I have learnt that what makes one stand and stick out is the creativity you put into it and the excellence in which your deliver your work.If at all you will need to make good money out if it , you have to be well versed with all the nitty gritties and brush up on that skill oftenly.And through the work, you will mess  up and restart a project all over again.
Throughout the month of August I have been and still having a grip on several things I love and I am passionate about which seem to be closing down ,falling apart , unthriving all at the same time,because I believe the sun will soon shine on them. You know, when the Bible tells me He who began a good work in me will bring it to fruition, it's literal, phillipians 1:6

Take God at his word, the situation may momentarily look messy and undone but just before you quit remember even gold has to be  tested through fire. Probably  you are in the last and final lap of your revelation .Do not give up hold on to hope.There is nothing ectopic, luxated and deranged  about you to God, He knew you would go through it and come out stonger and fine than the touchstone and even finer than wine . All things work together for good.

Beloved, it is well .