Image credit: the road to 31
The year was 2012, the program was ‘When Women Worship’ organised by David’s Christian Centre, aka DCC, Lagos, my sister’s church and mine whenever I was in Nigeria. If I have remembered correctly, Nathaniel Bassey, Pita and a few other great worship leaders led us to worship GOD. I think it was the same year my sister got married and was on her honeymoon during this event. So I attended alone and to be honest, even though there were worship leaders, I was not following in worship. I was not in the praising mood; I tried to dance, it felt stale; I tried to sing, it was rather ‘meh’. I tried to shout, it was ‘don’t embarrass thyself’, it just didn’t feel real. Anyway, I stayed till the end and one of the souvenirs from the programme was a Gratitude journal.
Image credit: Paige Yelle
I did not use it immediately, I don’t think. I travelled back to the UK with it though. I can almost swear it’s harder to be thankful in the Lagos than in London #justsaying. Anyway, I eventually started using it and rather consistently. If you know anything about me, I can be military and routinised in my ways. So it became a habit for me and part of my morning devotion/quiet times. After a while Continue reading
There must be a reason why bottled water manufacturers ask you not to refill your bottles after you’ve drunk the substitute for your cash (see article at this link). I understand there is the urge/need, at least for me, to make your money even go further than the £1.50 or so you spent on that plastic bottle of spring water. However, like I said, they must have their reason(s), one of which I might have found out this evening . . . ride with me . . .
Image credit: Discover Design
As a habit, I need to have a bottle of water next to my bed before going to sleep with enough water in it to last the night. In an attempt to be more Continue reading
Image credit: New Cars
Less than a month ago (at the time of writing this post), I decided the time was right to buy me a car. I thought I’ll buy a relatively inexpensive one, that is, spend about £1500-2000 maximum on it. A good friend advised that since it is a first car and I hadn’t driven in a while, just three times (car rentals) since I got my license 2 years ago, it might be best to start small and make all my mistakes with a cheap ol’ banger. I agreed because to be honest, if I had my way, I’d have started my driving career by learning to ride a bicycle, then a ‘keke-marwa/napep’1, then a motor cycle, before getting into a car. Or I may have just started with a horse, then a horse-drawn cart! Who knows?!
Anyway, I bought this gold 2001 Toyota car for just under £900, insured it for a similar price and drove it home. I was really nervous about driving; the car just felt like a large weapon of destruction that could develop a mind of its own if I don’t hold the steering wheel tight enough and if I’m not extra careful. I had to come out for prayers the weekend I got it! Serious! That’s how scared I was! But I faced my fears and kept driving, even though it meant empty stomachs before each drive, if you know what I mean . . . ;).
Two weeks into my driving career, Continue reading
Image credit: Napier CU
As you (may) know from my previous post, The Transfer, I had a mild case of location change and as a Christian, that meant my having to look for a ‘new’ church. My previous church had its own character and in my search, I wanted the kind of community, though small, I had in it.
In one big church in the city, I received a welcome pack, was hand-shook by those around me, filled in an information slip which I expected, at least that’s what happened where I came from. I can’t remember if there was a special welcome song but . . . (**hums ‘♪♪welcome today … ♪♪’**). Anyway, service ends but no one collects the slip from me, no one tries to speak to me about the church. I get an email like a few weeks later welcoming me to a different church site. I go there again but it just looks like it’s going to be hard work to settle in there. I still get emails from them from time to time, which in a sense is nice but . . . . Continue reading
Image credit: Innoventes
I recently saw an episode of Madam Secretary (Season One) in which one thread of the story-line was protesting transfers from a place more favourable to one much less favourable due to feminine single-hood. That resonated with me as I thought on how to start this post.
I moved to Greater Manchester about 6 months ago to start a new job I hadn’t seen myself doing by any stretch of my imagination. This new job *****drum roll***** was training as a secondary school Maths teacher in a “non-selective state school” = inner city school. The change was so much for me I more or less disappeared from my previous domain where I had spent about 7 years. Only a few people knew I moved – Continue reading