Dear Particular Believers,

It is true that the presence of God does not rid us of our ability to make personal decisions.

Certainly, we must and can seek counsel, but it is becoming a pattern to use God as a safety net when making decisions. Not necessarily because we trust Him, but so that we can easily remove ourselves from the consequences and avoid taking responsibility for the damage afterwards.

Take, for example, choosing a life partner. There is an increasingly emphasised notion that choosing the right partner is one of the greatest investments you can make. However, I believe the overemphasis, podcasts and even certain sermons surrounding this subject have left people more confused and less eager to choose for fear of making the wrong choice.

Of course, 1 Corithians 6:14 tells us,

“Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers. For what fellowship has righteousness with lawlessness? And what communion has light with darkness? ” which is pointing out that we shouldn’t be binded to someone who doesn’t share your belief as a believer.

Now, if you meet someone who agrees with this, you've successfully addressed one crucial part. The next step is the conversation about purpose, which is personally tricky because I often wonder how many people really know what their purpose in life is.

In most cases, everything you think or do may not necessarily point to one singular purpose. Rather, there may be a variety of experiences and occurrences that eventually lead to the full picture of your purpose.

However, I dare say that people often choose partners based on the current state of their pursuits and dismiss anyone who doesn't align with them, forgetting that we all evolve as we go through life. For some people, purpose may become comprehensible in their 30s, 40s or even 50s, not necessarily in their roaring 20s. I'm not saying be with someone for the reason of potential but accomodate the truth that people can take different career / develomental paths as is required for them. Hence, understand that compatibility should not be reduced to the alignment of two people's current professional or personal pursuits because different stages of life present different opportunities for growth.

Now, you meet someone who is a believer, supportive, has good character, loves the Lord and submits to the leading of the Holy Spirit, but you don't like them. They're good on paper and perhaps even make an aesthetically appealing choice, but deep inside, you don't like them enough to envision them as an important part of your future.

However, you're worried about the fear of missing out on what seems like a good choice, so you go to God in prayer. Or worse, you, who are confused, undecided and unwilling to make a choice, place overwhelming emphasis on the need to seek the counsel of God and mentors.

It's completely fine to seek counsel, but not at the expense of another person's time, emotions and choices. You don't need to hold someone hostage in a talking stage because you love the attention and partial commitment it gives you.

You can take your time, communicate your uncertainty honestly and give the other person the freedom to make their own decisions while you figure yours out.

However, most people aren't emotionally secure enough to accept this. Instead, they do what seems reasonable. They make statements that God has led them to someone through visions, prophecies, confirmations, dreams and other experiences. In reality, they do this because they want to give God full responsibility for their decisions. Should something go wrong, they can toss the blame to God, rid themselves of accountability or avoid admitting that they made a choice that didn't work out.

But does God even lead people through these methods? Yes, He can. However, I believe that those who encounter such experiences should and must have cultivated a thriving relationship with God and developed the discerning ability to recognise and interpret His leading.

God's guidance, wisdom, Scripture and grace are always available to believers, but these do not remove our responsibility to exercise discernment. James 1:5 says, "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him."

Now, someone can genuinely be confused, need time, seek counsel or remain uncertain about a relationship for a while. This isn't necessarily manipulation.

This addresses people who know they are not genuinely interested. Perhaps they have only settled for someone or used someone to show off, yet continue to communicate certainty, make spiritual declarations or encourage emotional investment because they enjoy the benefits of having a relationship they are not committed to.

So, what do you do now?

You change your ways if you have a habit of emphasising religious activities while knowing very well that you only settled for someone or chose them for reasons best known to you.

The outcome is this: when a house is built on a faulty, dishonest or hasty foundation, it will collapse when the storms come. And if people are in that house, they will undoubtedly get hurt.

In essence, choose with God and be ready to take responsibility for your choice. If, after choosing, things still fall apart, be kind and considerate enough to handle the outcome with empathy.

Also, recognise that intentional work is necessary to grow the kind of relationship you desire. Just as we intentionally develop ourselves in other areas to become experts or, at the very least, excellent in our respective roles, I believe we can also develop ourselves to build and sustain the kind of relationships we desire.

Sometimes, we ascribe our own indecision, desires and decisions to God, thereby misrepresenting His character.

And this doesn't end with our relationships. Consider the Christian in the workplace who lacks integrity, has poor work ethics and demonstrates little regard for other people. You see them praying fervently, quoting Scriptures and participating actively in religious activities, yet they lack basic social manners, character, professional competence and even the willingness to be teachable.

At what point do we begin to understand that our faith should also be reflected in how we conduct ourselves outside religious gatherings?

When we act this way, we give Christianity bad publicity. We make it difficult for people to reconcile what we profess with what they experience from us. It's almost as though we are communicating that everything we say about following Jesus is a pretence, especially when the very Scriptures we quote teach otherwise.

Our faith should influence how we treat people, approach responsibilities, respond to correction, develop our skills, honour commitments and conduct ourselves when nobody is watching. Being a Christian does not exempt you from becoming competent at your job, learning basic social etiquette or taking responsibility for your professional shortcomings.

In fact, I believe that excellence, integrity, humility and teachability should be evident in how we approach our work. We cannot continually use our identity as believers to excuse behaviours that contradict the values we claim to uphold.

I'll close with this: God has given us a brain to think and make decisions, so apply that in your choices. He is not a wicked and irresponsible Father who abandons you to make the wrong choices. His love does not guarantee that every decision we make will be perfect, but neither does an imperfect decision mean that He has abandoned us.

If He loved you in your sins, filth and unlovable state, why do you think that now, having been accepted into the Beloved through faith in Christ Jesus, God will leave you without His wisdom, guidance and grace as you make your choices?

I look forward to seeing my children embrace failure. I want to watch them get up after a failed course, goal or business, move on after a breakup, heal through grief , and doing all of this quickly.

Why?

It was different with me, and now I’ve learnt that when you stand on the edge of a cliff, the only way left is down.

Love is good, but it’s not all there is to life and I certainly believed a lie that it was love that made the world go round. It may help it circulate but it is not its entirety.

There’s no point holding on to people with clenched fist when to them you were just a strand of hair, dangling unnoticed in their verse.

I believe that God is the best teacher of love. Yet, the best students are the ones who submit to the teachings of their master.

So maybe the problem isn’t that we do not hear the wise words but we have not submitted to it long enough for it to transform us.

Like Newton’s laws of motion: Our feelings spark up the flames of any encounter (a desire to get a new job, stay healthy, move cities, start a purpose-driven venture) but it is our character, values, principles, willingness to be selfless and our ability to consciously improve ourselves that sustain these encounters long after the feeling fade away.

Presently, my heart wrestles between the discomfort of improvement and the fear of the unknown outcome but my lips speak the hope of God’s word.

“Now all glory to God, who is able to keep you from falling away and will bring you with great joy into his glorious presence without a single fault. ” — Jude 1:24 NLT

I cling to the promise that the more I seek to know the One who completely understands my circumstances, yet seeks to guide me through it all to give me a future and a hope.

With these thoughts, I’m comforted to know that the challenges of life are not foreign to its Creator. I am growing in the confidence that He is always willing to guide me and my household through the very life he gave us.

What thoughts have you been reflecting on recently?

“It's their first time being parents.”

I learnt this when I was 18.

I held a little grudge against my father over the fact that he was hasty to end our calls, but wouldn't hesitate to fill my bank account whenever I asked.

My love language, I'd say, is quality time. Apparently, he wasn't fluent in it.

This thing, which some of you may be reading and frowning your brows while murmuring, “What an ungrateful child. Your father was even sending you money,” had caused an ache in my heart.

So, I took it to God in prayer and chose to forgive him, even though I hadn't seen any change.

Funnily enough, the answer came unexpectedly on a foggy drive to the motor park as I returned to school.

“You may think I don't want to talk to you,” he began, “but the thing is that I'm very busy at work, and I only have time for serious conversations. I'm not saying that talking isn't important. It's just that, at the time you call, I don't have the time to talk.

“Love, to me, is responsibility. The ability to provide for you and have you live a comfortable life makes me happy and satisfied.

“I'll do better next time, but I just hope you understand me.”

As he finished speaking, I saw him for who he really was: a little boy figuring out life and trying his best to do a good job as a father as often as he could.

It was his first time being a parent here on earth, and he was trying so hard to do a great job.

Strapped into my seat, I felt heavy, selfish, and grateful.

It is so easy to be a commentator in a game you're not playing. You see the moves they could or should have made. You know better because you have a bird's-eye view.

Always spectating. Never participating.

This is how we become terrible judges.

Some parents may have genuinely done what they thought was best. Some parents may have had their hearts wrongly displayed or misunderstood.

This is not to excuse or support abusive parents. This piece is those who geniunely loved us but were misunderstood.

I hope, like me, you realise that your parents may have truly loved you, but perhaps in a different way.

I hope you forgive them and extend grace to them as you sit on your high horse. I pray you make peace with them and get a glimpse of their childlike nature before they leave this earth.

The truth remains: they love you, but love can be spelt and perceived differently.

This may be too soon to ask but, what’s the first thing you would want to forgive them for?

I don't think people aren't reading because they don't want to. I think some people simply can't read anymore.

Not in the literal sense because they can read words— like the previous texts. They can scroll through captions, tweets, and comments in a day.

But to read something deeply? Sitting with an idea long enough to execute it? Holding a thought long enough for it to challenge you? Learning something without being forced to?

That seems to be becoming increasingly difficult.

Many of us are only intellectually active because we've kept ourselves in a continuous loop of development, fuelled by an academic curriculum or a self-tailored one. We take courses, read books, attend workshops, listen to podcasts, watch lectures and deliberately expose ourselves to new information.

But my question is this:

Could it be that we engaged with learning mainly because it was essential to getting through life, and not necessarily because we were taught to believe in the value of learning?

And perhaps that is why, when school ends and there are no longer assignments, examinations or deadlines pushing us forward, we suddenly stop seeing the need to learn.

So how do you regain your ability to learn without overwhelming yourself?

I think everything starts small.
Everything starts from a cell. A tiny component that eventually becomes something much grander.

Think about an egg.

An egg doesn't remain an egg forever. Under the right conditions, it develops into a living organism. Something that began incredibly small becomes something complex.

Human development works in much the same way.

We begin from the fusion of a sperm and an egg cell, and over time, our bodies develop into muscles, bones, tissues and organs.

Learning can work this way too. Think about how we learned as children.

We learned at home. We learned to respond to our names. We recognised familiar faces. We learned sounds, numbers, shapes and colours.

And we repeated things. Over and over again.

We heard a word. We repeated it. We made mistakes. We tried again. Eventually, it stuck.

There was no pressure to become an expert overnight. There was simply repetition, curiosity and gradual progress.

Of course, adulthood comes with responsibilities that children don't have. Bills. Work. Family. Deadlines. Exhaustion.

But somewhere along the way, we may have forgotten that learning still requires the same patience. So, if you want to start again, here are three things I think you can do.

First, take away the sadness that comes with acknowledging that you need to improve.

There is nothing embarrassing about being a beginner again.
You don't need to be ashamed that you don't know something. You only need to be willing to learn it.

Secondly, separate yourself from people who constantly make you feel small.
Intentionally curate your friendships and your environment. Surround yourself with people who remind you of who you could become.
People who become mirrors of possibility.

Thirdly, take conscious baby steps. And don’t just take them.
Take them well. Read two or three pages. Learn one new concept. Ask one better question. Write one paragraph. Watch one thoughtful lecture. Have one conversation that stretches your thinking. Just do the thing.

Small does not mean insignificant.

The truth is, you're probably not as far behind as you think you are.

But you will be if you remain in your current position.

So, what achievement can you make today for the person you're becoming?

There’s a woman I long to meet. She stands on the other side of my fears.

It’s the first of September, and I came up with a brilliant idea , “There are so many versions of myself I haven’t met. I think it’s time to start looking for them.”

I am going to revamp my life. I am, indeed, going to see to it that I become the woman of my dreams because what exactly am I afraid of?

That I’ll really know what God’s word says and I’ll burn with love for my Saviour, have the courage and the wisdom to share the gospel relentlessly?

That I’ll one day be the reason a child, who had the opportunity to meet me, reached their expected developmental milestones, and later goes on to become independent and successful because I paid attention to them?

That I’ll help parents realise how important it is to prioritise a child’s growth and developmental success instead of seeing academic achievement alone as a reflection of their worth or value as a parent?

That I’ll help teachers become great at teaching, build successful careers, and improve their finances while doing what they love?

That I’ll marry the man of my dreams and he’ll love me with his whole being, without the weight of fear, trauma, pain, or attachments to the past—and I’ll do the same for him?

That we’ll watch each other grow old, loving God and loving people together?

That I’ll actually make something out of my life, whether or not I can imagine it right now?

So, yeah.

I’m reinventing my life in the eighth month of my new year.

Honestly, I don’t know how it’ll go. But I’m determined to take baby steps and document my days.

I want to meet all the versions of myself I haven’t met yet.

And maybe, somewhere along the way, I’ll meet her.

Stay with me as I journey. I’ll see you later, unfiltered, maybe refined, as the days go by.

Rejections are good for our health.

No, I’m not being a pessimist right now but I think this is necessary for development.

My emotional spine is made of jelly and that explains the swift, utter chaos that results from friendships breakup, failed interviews and even sudden goodbyes.

While grief and mourning are essential for the human cycle, I believe their existence, albeit powerful, is also time bound. I don’t think they want to linger longer than they ought to.

This is why I need a steel spine.

I understand that growth is uncomfortable. The best things we desire are often produced through uncomfortable circumstances: the spread of the gospel, silver, gold, healthy relationships, financial stability, our personal health and wellness — heck, changing the trajectory of our own lives.

I’m learning from a five year old artist, that to become great at your craft you must go through the process of repetition, imitation and visualisation.

Repeat the action, imitate the pattern of an excellent tutor and imagine long enough till you trick your mind into believing your new form while it is in the process of becoming.

I’ll continue as I have done in the first half of the year. Face my fears and see what happens next.

So far, I’m recognising the impotency of fear on the journey of growth and success.

I’ll keep choosing audacity over avoidance, boundaries over people-pleasing, and discipline over comfort.

A healthy dose of all three, taken according to your capacity, might just be good for you too.

I started growing crops.

Funny, because I think now that I’m aging, I’m reviving the hobbies that excited me as a child.

However, this isn’t just for a hobby — it’s for my personal development.

I try to be self-aware and honest with myself with my actions. I also seek for clarity and aim for improvement as often as I can. Yet, I observed that I haven’t been able to comprehend the concept of patience.

I either fight it, reject it, or run away from it as I’m always trying to move quickly through life.

Patience to me meant I had to be slow; this drab also wears a cloack of uncertainty that I can’t see through.

Say for example, how can we truly tell that the patient dog ate the fattest bone? We don’t know if he even got a bone to begin with. Life experiences has also dealt me some alternatives to my optimism which also influenced my stance on wanting to have things or give it in the present but, planting is teaching me something entirely different.

It is first the realisation that my seeds need to die to live again.

I thought it was only traceable to Christianity when Jesus Christ of Nazareth (my saviour and redeemer) resurrected but apparently it also happens to seeds too. And, I somehow find myself unbothered about it.

I’m also learning that every plant has a different growth pattern. Groundnut seeds start sprouting at 3 days while my ginger has taken a week to sprout a leaf as tiny as a clipped finger nail. This has also not bothered me because I’m not comparing my onions to my groundnuts neither have compared it to my ginger. This seems like a useful initial step to curing the unconscious desire to compare our lives with others.

The next would be my heightened concern to prevent my plant from dying. I see how greatly important it is to be intentional about growth as nothing will progress significantly if we don’t actively participate in its compounding activity.

I am learning the willingness to not give up. I have weeded, changed flower pots, watered the plants consistently over the past few weeks, even without seeing growth

I am also learning to be at peace, and to just enjoy the process. It’s been hard but I’m getting a hang of it.

As my plant grows so and changes so am I. The journey so fair?

It gets better by the day.

I’ll leave room for your thoughts now, do tell, what are you learning currently?

I don’t appreciate the subconscious dependency that artificial intelligence has created. As a creative and a writer, I observe that I am slowly losing the art of being confident in the originality of my work as every piece of writing now requires me to vet it with AI.

To answer your thought, "Is she saying AI is bad?" you must first understand what I am not saying:

I DIDN’T SAY AI IS BAD. I’M NOT SAYING WE SHOULDN’T USE AI.

What I am saying is this: because of our need to bring ease into our lives, we’ve lost the art of appreciating effort in its raw, vulnerable state. There’s this automatic reliance on auto-suggestions without trying to test your spelling abilities. It’s making me cringe. Have you stopped to ask yourself who you are without these ad-libs? What if, one day, the world stops like it did back in 2020? Who would you be? Would you like yourself enough to continue in your actual state?

Maybe the focus shouldn’t just be how to use AI, but how to protect our authenticity while integrating it. Take the time to think through your thoughts. And for crying out loud, can we go back to creatively designing flyers?

I don’t know, but I miss it so badly—seeing people show original ideas and leave traces of themselves in this world, and for the world they won’t experience when they’re gone. You—the entirety of yourself—are valuable. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have made it here. Let’s take a step today and look at your work in its pure, original state.

Of course, it will get refined as you evolve, but while you use it remember to not erase your individual essence.

I've heard this line more times than I can count. What no one tells you is the direction he should move in, or when the timing is right.

But there's a quieter grief in staying still and watching others advance at a steady, visible pace while you remain exactly where you started. This is not because you're lazy or unwilling but because you genuinely don't know where to go, or how to get there.

Here's what nobody tells you: there is no universal step-by-step.

We're taught to expect one somewhere down the line, as if clarity is owed to us or will magically surface eventually. But the truth is simpler and harder— most of us aren't even headed in the same direction, so no single map could ever fit all of us.

Here is a reliable fact: you will find your people, your path, and your "type" only while you're moving. Not before.

Stillness will keep your eyes fixed on the obstacle in front of you. And while you're fixed on that obstacle, you miss the keys already resting in your hand.

As someone building a career in education, communications and growth strategy, piecing together classroom practice, writing, and the slow work of figuring out what's next — I return to this often.

Progress will rarely look like a straight line. Sometimes it just looks like refusing to stay still long enough for the next door to appear.

I have a question for you, will you keep moving? And if you are moving, kindly share with me, what’s kept you moving, even without a map?

My love,

I’m writing to you again, Count On You by Johnny Drille is playing softly as I set these words down. I’ve seen people talk about yearning, about bringing back real yearners who know how to love, and I don’t think they truly understand what it means. So let me show them. Let me write about you.

I like you. I like you a lot.

I like your hair, almost never combed, yet perfectly arranged in my memory of you.
I like your eyes, the ones that looked past my smile, real or borrowed, and loved what they found.
I like the wrinkles on your face. They are the record of your deep thoughts.
I like your voice. I hear it and I think: how blessed are my ears to be visited by this sound.

I like you. You, my gift. You, whose life brought an illumination to mine. Loving you made me glow. Being loved by you brought my heart to ease, a cleanse from the muddy residue of broken things.

With you, I learnt to come home early. To wait for your lover at dawn and at dusk, that is a gift that cannot be bought. How grateful I am to God to have a love worth missing.

With you, I learnt to love with an unclenched fist. I didn't get you by the strength of my arms, by toil or by strategy. You came the way grace comes, unearned, unexpected, entire.

To be loved is to be known, and you knew me. You loved me to rest. You loved my Lord best, and for me, that is what made you first.

How blessed I am to have loved your dark brown eyes in this lifetime. What a grace, to have been held as the prize in someone's heart.

Loving you is my favourite task. Not because of what you gave me, but because of what you made me: not just somebody, yours. Wholly, only, yours.

In another life, I would find my way back to the beginning, just to love you from the start.