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Lord, Is It Me?

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I was studying Matthew 26 today when the Holy Spirit drew my attention to verse 22, the moment when Jesus spoke about His betrayal and each of His disciples paused to ask, “ Lord, is it me?” This story has been told countless times, and honestly, every single time I read it, I always wish I could give Judas a heavy, brain-resetting knock for having the audacity to betray our sweet and loving Saviour. However, today was different. In the middle of my Judas-judging moment, the Spirit of God quietly interrupted my thoughts and led me to reflect on how often we point accusing fingers at others, forgetting that we too are very human: frail, imperfect, and capable of making mistakes. That reflection drew me deeper into a quiet conversation about pride and toxicity, and I’d love to share a few notes from what the Holy Spirit revealed to me. There is a very thin line between pride and self-confidence. It is so thin that we often blur it without realizing. Many of the things we proudly label a...
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In the Silence

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T here are seasons that bruise the soul so deeply that trusting God feels like carrying a mountain with trembling hands. Seasons when prayers sound like echoes, bouncing back empty, and heaven feels shut tight against your cries. It is in these moments you wonder if God is silent, or worse, if He has turned His face away. You wait, and the waiting stretches into wilderness days that turn into wilderness years. You weep silent tears that no one sees, because sometimes words cannot capture the ache. Sometimes, numbness is all that remains, a heart that beats, but struggles to hope again. It hurts most when you thought you heard Him clearly. When you stepped out in faith, only to meet closed doors and disappointment. You replay His words in your head, wondering if you misheard, misunderstood, or mis-stepped . In the secret places of your heart, the question rises, “ God, are You being unfair to me?” Yet, even in the wilderness, even in the silence, there is an anchor that does not break, ...
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Lenses on: A Quick Heart Check

Have you read the story of Ahab and Naboth (1 Kings 21)? Can you imagine how Ahab’s covetous desire for Naboth’s vineyard led to Jezebel’s wicked scheme and ultimately, Naboth’s death? If you haven't read the story, don't worry, I'll gist you. So... Ahab, a whole king, saw the only vineyard Naboth had and decided he wanted it for himself ( to make a vegetable garden) . He approached Naboth and offered him either a better vineyard or money in exchange. but Naboth refused, because that vineyard was the only thing he inherited from his ancestors.  Now instead of accepting the “no”, cry-cry Ahab went home angry and even refused to eat ( yes, a proper grown man throwing a toddler tantrum ). His wife, Jezebel came in, saw the drama, and asked what was wrong. When he told her Naboth had refused to give up the vineyard, she basically said, "leave it to me, I gat this" , and  she meant it. Jezebel wrote letters in Ahab’s name, sealed them with his seal, and sent them to t...
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Standards, Boundaries and Becoming

There are things I no longer apologize for, not out of pride, but because I am growing. You may wonder,  what are these things?  I’ll spare you the guesswork: they are  standards and boundaries. I remember a morning during my SIWES training. It was just another routine class until a side conversation took center stage. Someone had mentioned that it was okay to have “friends with benefits”, and suddenly the room was alive with opinions. Some called it harmless. One person said it was against the standards of morality. Then a lady responded sharply, “Who set the standards?” That question silenced the room, but it revealed something much deeper to me: how blurred our moral lines have become, how we have slowly drifted into a world where feelings dictate truth, and convenience overrides conviction. That moment was one of my earliest realizations of how far we’ve slipped, not just in behavior, but in mindset. The real danger isn’t always rebellion. Sometimes, it’...
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My love letter

 Dear heartthrob, I'm writing this from a place filled with an array of emotions. This heart has been battered and shattered, one too many times. I no longer feel sorry, I know my experiences are shaping me into the perfect gold God has created me to be. I'm currently a bundle of broken pieces but I trust God through this healing process and I believe broken crayons still make beautiful colorings. So while I wait, I promise to get better.  While I wait, I'll heal. While I wait, I promise to live my dreams. While I wait, I promise to be kind. While I wait, I promise to guard my heart diligently. While I wait, I promise I won't dabble into unhealthy entanglements. While I wait, I promise to be the reality of all that God has in mind. Please stay whole in God, so when you come, we'll be two complete people coming together as a whole. Ours will be a beautiful union that will shake territories and secure countless victories. Though I'm currently broken, I still belie...
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Two Years Later

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Two years later, I still recall the trauma of that fateful Monday morning (04/11/2019) And the very second that plunged me into mourning All in a flash!   Two years later, My heart is still wounded Pain and grief suddenly unfolded Without prior notice!   Two years later, Your words of wisdom from the comfort of your bed And your hearty laughter still resound in my head Unforgettable memories!   Two years later, I cherish the loving friendship we shared A best friend like you is truly so rare My mother, my friend!   Two years later, Unspoken words, untold stories Unshared jokes, unacknowledged victories Oh! How I miss your presence!   Two years later, Even in your absence Your loving discipline still makes sense Everyone around me still calls you blessed!   Two years later, I am not scared of marriage My future husband is coming for a full package A Queen raised a Queen!   Two years l...
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FIREBRAND- A SHORT FICTION

  FIREBRAND- A SHORT FICTION My name is Kiki Jones, I am an accountant, a singer and a young Christian woman. To me, life has been quite fair as I am already established at 24. I have a good job, a posh car, a luxury apartment in one of the high brow areas, and a glowing account balance. I had a religious upbringing as my parents, Mr and Mrs Jones were senior Pastors in our church. As a pastor’s daughter, I was faced with the challenge of living up to the level of perfection expected from everyone around me.  My church taught us how to conduct ourselves in everything we did, so there were some things that I could not do, naturally. I knew the dos and don’ts of the church, I could easily cook up a salvation story to tell whoever cared to ask, I was highly moral, but not saved. As a child who was expected to be perfect, I had a form of godliness, however, I had no personal relationship with God. I was outwardly perfect, I obeyed the laws of the church, I appeared extremely holy,...
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