Into the blue

Early on in 2011, I signed up for a mission that I was quickly to regret. I had three months , to pray and hear God’s direction on a hefty decision. The fact that the opportunity had arisen was enough for me,  so I launched headfirs.

What followed were months of self-doubt, constant pressure and which evolved into angst. Seeing no other alternative I pressed on and the stress continued to mount. My health declined and I was sleepless on many nights.

After one of Pastor Doug’s sermons on hearing God;s voice, becoming and maintaining one’s spiritual awareness, the pattern of my prayers began to change. At the start of each day, I enquired as to where God was going and what He was doing. Then I asked if I could tag along! To my surprise and delight, God took me with Him daily; that is unless I was unwilling or inattentive – something that happened often. I pushed forward, taking no heed to the voice in my head urging me to my own forays… I had been there and done that! No more!

Little by little, the tide and barrage of life abated. There were increased moments of blissful solitude when I heard from God and felt so relaxed. Those were of course, fleeting moment because I was still hell-bent on my project. The interest was alive and well but I am glad to report that God’s hand kept a firm hold, as I continued to pray and ask His heart’s desire.

The battle for the control of my soul and spirit was raging, more fiercely tha n I had ever known. Now I understand why ignorance is termed as bliss! Oh! the irony. But the intensity of meeting Christ in prayer grew. His Holy Spirit presence developed a longing for His constant companionship. He remained faithful and in response, my yearning to commune with Him evolved.

Within days and for the following weeks, God’s answers started pouring in, thick and fast! I was so relieved. Then surprise was followed by a deep irrational fear about the next step. The chance to openly declare a change of direction has brought intense healing for this now-delivered back-seat driver!

I pressed in, with the support of Margo, Anne-Marie, Julissa, Bindi. These dear friends chose to keep me accountable with love. I was able to relax, clear my head and respond with clarity. I asked them to pray with me and they did so frequently, without delay, doubt or complaint. The real meaning of pride comes from proactive hunting of prey by the lionesses.  These ladies form a formidable pride!

It has been a long and bumpy ride but I am so glad to be getting off. Thank you dear lionesses (my dear, dear friends) and special thanks as always, to The Lion of Judah! May His name be glorified for transforming us all!

Penning off for now,


Happy days

My husband, our daughter and I had a whole week off to bond with the Miz Pembleton and Chow Chow. Both dogs were well-behaved all week but by Thursday, we noticed a stubborn streak in the young male. Chow Chow. He had been poorly the week before and had several vet visits before we noticed the return of an even healthier appetite. Chow had improved a good deal, gaining some weight and muscle tone, after daily walks and chasing the Russian neighbour’s black, cheeky cat.
Little Miz Pembleton had retained her sweet, wholesome nature and displayed only the very best and most considerate temperament. She whimpered when one of us walked out the room, and then eagerly jumped on us when we returned. She was adorable!
Chow Chow began to bark every time our neighbours came in or left. He had this surprisingly low growl that turned into a full bark, the closer strangers got. Then we noticed his soft, shy gaze turn into a full head-on stare down. He no longer hunched his back. Chow stood tall, for a Jackshund (Daschund-Jack Russell mix)!
By the end of day 5, his gaze was dominating, challenging and downright demeaning. By day 6, he was chasing Miz Pembleton round the house in mock-fights. By day 7, the late afternoon fights began to turn nasty. Chow would bite Miz Pembleton’s right ear, at the same spot each time and her left hind leg, also on the same spot. I decided to get him out and walking more. Chow loved the exercise but tired out rather quickly, which was a mismatch to his tough dog-walk! Next step, we decided to get him active in the compound and in our home by giving him the chance to play with his dog toys, which he could chew and fetch. The surprising thing is, Chow never once wanted to play fetch and selectively played with his chew toy at odd hours. His aggression continued, until we had to separate both dogs during walks and at meal times.
Miz Pembleton on the other hand was turning into a nervous wreck when they were alone in the room. I caught him growling defensively at her and realized these dogs were not bonded in any way, despite the agent’s insistence.
Day 8, we left the dogs lazing and half asleep for an afternoon barbecue close by. We hurried home to make sure we fed the dogs and walked them. As we opened the door, we noticed an eerie silence. Neither dog scampered to the door to greet us. Then as we shut the door, the shredded couch pillow and destroyed shoes became clear; strewn across the room, as though a hurricane had redesigned our living room.
Miz Pembleton was on all fours but cowering in a corner. Chow was unapologetic and growled at her as I approached. The challenge in his eye was unmistakable. She began to whimper and walk away slowly and backwards. That was the last straw.
Chow in the meantime cow-towed only when my husband told him sternly, ‘ Chow, you are a bad, bad dog!’ He crouched and cast his eyes down in a bid to escape impending scolding. Within thirty minutes, we had started a frank discussion about our individual concerns on each dog’s exposure.
Miz Pembleton loved her grooming sessions Chow disliked it. She loved dog baths, he hated them. She liked rice in milk, he tolerated it. She ate small portions; he could eat an antelope and often pinched food from her plate if we were not looking! Miz Pembleton sat waiting for her breakfast, and he knocked over the rubbish bin for a treat. She was well house trained but Chow had begun to ignore all his house training, peeing on nearly every carpet we owned! She had soft paw pads; Chow’s were rougher than industrial sand paper! Miz Pembleton answered to her name and he ignored his! That was our Aha moment – Chow was not his name!
So I played around with dog names and came up with B-B and he jumped up in response, polite briskness for the first time! I was so disappointed. As we got ready to go to bed, we agreed that the pound would be called and an offer to return Mr. Street Smarts made – at no refund.
By 9.30 a.m., we secured the deal and my dear, sweet husband Jay,w drove B-B back to the kennels in silence and dismay. It was hard on him, as they had bonded best. B-B clearly in need of a male mentor and my husband in need of the mentoring! Once they arrived, B-B nearly hurt himself leaping out of our car boot and very nearly ran off to the kennels before my husband could unhook his leash!
B-B strutted off in typical arrogant fashion, with head high, stocky body primed for the charge and never looked back, lest he turned into a pillar of salt! My husband realized he had to let go and turned to the office, cleared the paperwork and offered the payment as our contribution to their work, before heading home to peace and a sweet Miz Pembleton!
Discovering mangoes…..
Miz Pembleton greeted Jay with some apprehension. She had enjoyed her time alone and whimpered at the thought that B-B was due to strut in at any moment. Jay shut the door and Miz Pembleton’s mood eased into a relaxed, grateful and loving demeanor. Soon, she was lapping up all the attention and basking at being the sole source of attention.
Now Jay loves eating mangoes and with each slice, Miz Pembleton watched and waited for her share. One peel slipped onto the floor and she sniffed it and then bit a piece off and had a feast. Every time one of us eats a mango, we offer her some and she eats it up with such sweet appreciation, we feel obligated to share. Mangoes are now a steady favourite in our home!

To New Beginnings!

A few years ago, I dreamt I was asleep on my side, with one arm draped over the side of my bed.  As I slept, I could hear the steps of a little dog enter the room, run up to the side of the bed and lick my hand.  The whole episode was so vivid that the memory stayed with me for several years.

 Two weeks ago, our daughter came home with her school report  and amazed us with her very high grades.  Trouble was that we had made a promise to reward high grades with a pet!  A small dog.

A day later, we began the search for the right dog and settled on a Jack Russell.  We called all the right places and quickly found that this breed is both high demand and seriously short supply.  Reluctantly, I called the Kenya Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.  Our chances were slim chance and dim, but I took courage and asked.  The man at the end of the line asked me to hold.  He took ages to get back to me and surprised. They had two Jack Russells!

We got there two days later and accepted both dogs!  Naturally our little girl had a weekend of double blessing and a smile all weekend.

One and a half weeks later, we can confidently say, our new addition to the family keeps us happy.  We share lots of laughs, licks, wags and jumps every day!