Borrowed Eggs

Sunday naps are beautiful, refreshing, not too short that you wake with a headache and not long enough to turn you in to a night owl after dusk.

The one day that I hope and pray that my girlies will take a nap is on Sundays, nap time is usually my golden hour(s) of peace. The rays of the sun warm the room, the birds chirp melodiously outside and for a few prolonged minutes the thought of Monday doesn’t cross my mind. I can think. I can breathe. I’m at peace.

Before I had children I didn’t used to take my siesta time as seriously, I’d watch movies instead of sleep, now, I sleep to recharge and I wake up with a rekindled love for life. My siesta is therapy for my soul.

Yesterday, Ky refused to nap. Forty-five minutes of my siesta time was spent trying to convince her to sleep, but curiosity trumped sleep, so she hang out with daddy as Miss K and I slept. It was such sweet sleep.

When Ksena woke, I was on the phone, so she went to join the fun part of K squad ( daddy and Ky). Nobody told me about the 3 year growth spurt, where the appetite of a teenager lives within a toddler. I often hear the words “Mum, I’m still hungry,”, I am waiting to see her chunking up. After naps she wakes up hungry, ready to eat whatever she finds.

When she walked into the room, they exchanged pleasantries with Ky being happy that her sister and friend was now awake.

“Ksena, what would you like to eat?”

“I want,” she said as she paused to think, “The egg Shiku (Kyria) likes?”

“Which one?”

“Borrowed eggs.”

Peter looked at her, processing her strange request for borrowed eggs and then it hit him that it was boiled eggs. I guess she always hears something that sounds like borrowed (homophones and toddlers are chuckle-worthy series of posts for another day.) She likes boiled egg whites but won’t touch the yolk because it is, wait for it, dirty. Yet the dirt is not an issue in sunny side ups, omelets or scrambled eggs. Toddlers!

As I reflected later that night, I realized that there are so many times that I go to God asking for things but using the wrong name. I was comforted that because He is my father, He will know exactly what I mean and give them to me according His will and in His time.

What a beautiful feeling it is to know that we have an open invitation to the King of Kings, and we can share our heart’s desires with him, both the polished and the unrefined, and though we may stutter or say the wrong thing, He will understand.

He will not give us borrowed eggs that we will in turn have to repay, he will give us boiled eggs.

 

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Sheep In The Beach City

A couple of months ago, Ksena spotted sheep in the supermarket aisle. It was love at first sight. She talked to them and wanted her daddy to buy her one. When hubby called me and told me that Ksena wants a sheep, I was shocked, I couldn’t understand why she wanted a sheep out of all stuffed animals in the store.

A couple of days later, I got to meet the sheep. Immediately we got to that aisle, Ksena started squealing with joy. She was in sheep-land. The excitement increased when she realized that she was going to go home with one.

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If I was choosing a toy for Ksena, Sheep would not have been on my top five list. I guess the reason that she is so fond of sheep is that she chose him herself. Every time we pass by that aisle, she still wants to rescue the other sheep. I could teach her a thing or two about farming using these stuffed sheep.

Two days ago, as I watched Miss K interacted with Sheep, the Holy Spirit reminded me of this verse.

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The same way that Ksena chose Sheep to be hers is the way that God chose us to be His, fully aware of how we looked on the inside and outside. What other people think or don’t think about us is a non issue for Him.

She is very protective over Sheep. When she realizes that Sheep is not in her bed, she directs you to search for him. This reminds me of how God would leave the ninety-nine sheep to search for the one that is lost.

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I am learning to see Sheep through miss K’s eyes, and to promptly give him cuddles when I am instructed to. In retrospect, I’m glad she didn’t choose a goat.

Matthew 25:32-33 NLT

All the nations will be gathered in his presence, and he will separate the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.  He will place the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left.

Sheep over goats any day (:

More on ‘The adventures of Sheep’ next week.

Blessings,

Bibi2be

 

When Life Happened

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“Why is it so cold?

Where is my baby?

Is she okay?

I’m freezing in here.”

September 30th 2014 at 5:15pm I woke up from what seemed like the longest nap asking these questions. So relieved to be alive; cognizant of the fact that not everyone makes it back to this side alive.

Overwhelmed by emotion, I lay there looking disheveled, as though life had happened. Hold up! Life had just happened. The resident of my womb had just been evicted and my body was shaken. It had been a lovely host environment for the last nine months.It adapted and stretched to accommodate the little one, and just like that she was out. I felt happy but oh so empty, my extra heartbeat was now living out of me; what a strange feeling that was.

I was still high on the anesthesia and exhausted from laboring for twelve hours only to be told ‘I am so sorry. You are still 6cms dilated. It is cervical dystocia’ . Honestly, I have never been so terrified in my whole life. I was all set for a normal delivery, I even had my sitz bath all set up in my bathroom before I left for the hospital. I was in too much pain, with the contractions back to back to try and understand what the doctor meant by ‘dystocia’.

I was all walked out. I mean I had bounced on the yoga ball for so long. I closed my eyes and I could still feel the buoyancy, reminded me of being in the deep sea; floating – no strength to swim or fight the waves. Tired of waiting for someone to rescue me. I was all cried out, beat, frail and so afraid.

When I saw my little girl, sheer unprecedented joy flooded my heart. I was a mother, me, yet I wasn’t so sure I had figured out this thing called adulthood. Now someone would look up to me and call me mummy? Where was my mummy? I needed MY mummy, and a little girl needed her mummy, she needed me.

My birth partner, who had arrived right before the ‘cervical dystocia’ announcement, did what I consider one of the best things ever; she brought the baby and taught me how to latch her to my breast. I really do thank God that we figured out how to do it on our first try. The sensation was weird to say the least. My breast was not used to being sucked like someone’s life depended on it. Yet, here we were, it needed to toughen up and adapt to the new role.

Here I am, ten months on. I am so grateful that life happened. It has not been in a walk in the park, we’ve had our fair share of challenges including postpartum depression but it has been the best adventure yet. My daughter turned my life upside down and inside out. She has made me question many things that I considered truth. I have had to re-evaluate my values and myself, figure out what I truly believe in, the legacy that I want to pass on to her.

I have probably never been so sleep deprived but neither has my heart been so full of love. She has taught me little life lessons. What do you know, ten months down the line and another baby doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. Divine amnesia.

Beautiful, life changing, magical memories are made when life happens. Yes sometimes, life knocks the wind out our lungs, but we bounce back. Truly we are much stronger than we think. Life throws curve balls our way and we swing our bats like never before and make that home run.

My life changed when life happened. Boy, am I glad it did. Here is to more adventures, more laughs, more tears and more unprecedented joy.

Life happened. I survived. I continue to thrive.

Blessings,

Bibi2be

The World of Parenting

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Children are a personal responsibility from God.

There are many theories on parenting and it is good to be informed. There is a lot that we can learn from those who have gone ahead of us. As we learn the principles, we should pick what works for us in accordance to our Faith and belief system.

At the end of the day, I believe that as a parent, it is important to ask God to tell you who each child is and how you should raise them. Every child is an individual with a unique personality. What may work for one child, may not work for another. Also, the earlier you understand the child the sooner you can tweak your parenting style. In Judges 13, when an angel of the Lord appeared to Manoah’s wife, he told her that they would have a son. She was instructed not to drink wine or any other alcoholic drink or eat any forbidden food. For their son would be dedicated to God at birth as a Nazirite and he would rescue Israel from the Philistines. She rushed and told Manoah what the angel had said, and he prayed to the Lord to send the angel back to give them more instructions about the son who was to be born and the angel came back with more instructions.

The amazing thing is that we have the Holy Spirit and if we ask God, He will give us more instructions on how to raise our children. We do not have to walk in the dark.

The truth is, though we are all in this parenting game together, we will be answerable individually.

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Let God lead you as you lead your children. Don’t be afraid to go against the gradient for something you believe in.

I have seen prayer move mountains in my personal life and in the lives of others. It is indeed crucial that we pray for our children everyday.

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I found a nice prayer guide with pointers on how to pray for them daily.

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God bless you even as you point your children back to Him. He is our source of hope, peace, love, and joy. Only He can satisfy them and only He will never fail them. You are guaranteed that they are in safe hands when in His arms.

Happy parenting 🙂

Bibi2Be

Worrier Versus Warrior

Happy New Year! By His grace we have seen a new year.

In 2014 I was a certified worrier. I worried about many things, big and small. Being a first time mom did not make things any easier. Before the baby I was worried about the pregnancy going awry, after the baby I was worried about everything (I am not exaggerating). Constantly on my mind were questions about whether I was doing things. I wondered why babies don’t come with a manual; it really would make things a lot easier. But we’ve got to thank God for the Holy Spirit and maternal instinct.

I walked with a cloud of impending doom hanging over my head. The irony of it all was that I was too worried to pray. I guess praying about it admitted I was actually worrying and I didn’t want to be a worrier.  I lived in denial.

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Worry and anxiety walk hand in hand. It doesn’t edify neither does it change the situation at hand. If anything, it focuses so much on the negative and blinds one from seeing the positive at hand or in the horizon. Worrying is exhausting. No one ever finished worrying and said ‘Well, that was refreshing!’ (Hmm that should be on an aunty acid post :-).)

Matthew 6:25-34 (NIV)

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

In 2015 and beyond, I have resolved that if I have time to worry, I have time to pray. Every time I find myself spiraling down the road of worry, I pray. It is still taking some getting used to, but praying is indeed much more refreshing. As a result the peace of God that surpasses all understanding guards my heart and mind in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7 (NIV)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Worry is toiling vain,
Prayer is the only thing that can move mountains.
Worry only drains,
Prayer refreshes and sustains.

By His grace, I’m no longer a worrier. I’m now a prayer warrior. Prayer changes things.

Have a worry-free and prayer filled 2015.

Blessings,

Bibi2Be