The lump in my throat felt like it had been chained to my molars, it didn’t budge no matter how hard I swallowed, the waves of water I drunk washed it but didn’t push it. It was stuck, and for once I was forced to confront it, see it for what it really was.
Earlier that day, I woke up to pray and I whispered a series of simple prayers, they weren’t seemingly ‘powerful’ command-the-morning, devil-you-are-defeated kind of prayers, though yes the devil is defeated. They were simple heartfelt whispered pleas said from a guarded but expectant heart.
“Babe, what happened to you?” hubs asked as we had our breakfast. “What do you mean?” I asked as I took a sip of my Moringa Hibiscus tea, “You used to pray a lot…you know you will stand and give an account for yourself as an individual,” immediately I heard these words the piece of sweet potato in my throat became harder, I felt like I was eating a sweet fibrous boulder.
“I am trying to get back there. I’ve been praying shorter prayers, but I am still at it.” I responded but the question lingered with me. As I went about my day, I sought the answer within, and I stopped when I realized what had really happened. I had been choked, to the point that I found myself gasping for air, sometimes my faith was even turning blue. It wasn’t because God or His word had changed, but I had shifted my focus. The worries of this world (that is soon passing away) had choked my desire, drive and resolve to pray passionately.
Motherhood has taught me that it is not only bad things that can choke you, even water and breast milk can choke a child, these are liquids that are meant to refresh. In the same way, the things that choke my faith are not necessarily bad things, in fact, some of them are the roles that I play as a mum and a wife, but that shouldn’t be an excuse. If anything it should be a reminder to always be sensitive enough to know when the balance shifts, to know when the water goes down the wrong pipe, to recognize the coughing spasms in my faith, the difficulty praying, and to ask for help.
Here’s to eating life with a big spoon, praying and not choking.