He wanted a wild one… 

Something about her perfume, something about her smile… It couldn’t be more surreal. Her wild range of knowledge..she was a smart one. 

Meeting her was one miracle.  It was just another fairly combination in the wild. She could have meant trouble but the craze was just what he needed. She walked in, her stilettos making a fine, strong sound, her fine hair dashing from side to side.  She would soon make her move. She laid the pieces down and broke down the plan into a fine tale. All he needed was to do his part and everything would be perfect. 

She walked in the oval office and placed the tiny camera near the pot of flowers where it would not be seen, so as to await the proceedings of the day. 

The game began. Madam president would do the deed the following day and it was all in red tape. The evidence was clear. The set up worked and the pieces were coming together as planned. She never knew what hit her. 

The next day a letter came in.” we will expose if you don’t step down from your high horse! “She couldn’t understand how that even with all her power and might that at that moment she felt so small. 

She called in a press conference and said the words as they anticipated. The game was over and she had lost. All she was left with was her name and that she couldn’t lose. She figured she could always fight another day. 

All this time The master of the game awaited pretty and fair as ever. He would rise to the creme after all thanks to her lovely damsel. 

Because life needed a wild card. 

 

Such are flowers.

Here today,gone tommorow…

The brevity of life has never really eluded me.It actually haunts and taunts me often times…Probably because I have been there at the close of curtains so many times and will often wonder when it shall be my turn.

Recently i gave birth to my all so beautiful daughter… and oh my, shes such a beau.I sometimes will gaze at her, infinetly seeing her life,hoping really to see her to the end.I simply cannot come to the thought that maybe one day it shall be my turn and she will be robbed of my tommorow with her.

I sing songs to her hoping the tunes will linger on in her head ,even when its my turn to go.

There is so much at stake and somehow very little reassurance that we could live forever here.

Nevertheless we are in the hands of a merciful God .In his sovereignity we sit,knowing we too are dispensible in his grand plan for our lives.

Wanjiru Muoria

Tonight.

I suggest to you if happiness had a face .It sure looks like this.

Just chilling on the sofa me and my husband till late ,(mark you tommorow is a work day) and i get to listen to great music ever written and sang.

I think to myself God really set me up. Its almost like the proverbial ‘match made in heaven’. You see He (my husband) doesnt sing much but better believe it he is very musical.He is my better half when it comes to music.He gets the lyrics the first time he hears them and then there is me who catches up 5 days later.He is also the guy who gets the beat and the instrumentals…and am the vocal person . We make such a great team..*sigh*

Once again the truth is this was all Gods big match making …

I can go on and on about how we met and the juicy love story but ill spare the details for future tea or coffee…

Tonight am just glad i met this man and that he stayed with me and we are doing life together.

#theoneHekeptforme.

@wanjiru Muoria.

BUT YOU LOVE TO WIN

This has just been that week of low energy… Of feeling all kinds of quit

And more so just pure burnout. And my first instinct is to step out of the ring… You know just to get a breather… Well, we all know that never ends well cause the enemy will just find you over there.

You look all over and your inside is screaming for help. You have received your share of too many blows and it hurts all over and darn…  You just wanna raise your hand and just say enough…But endlessly persistent are your legs. Holding you up refusing to bow. I guess they know all to well that they can’t be the ones that call quits… They can’t be the ones to blame. So they stand ground. Your arms and fists slowly gather some stamina and guard your full blown face. You relentlessly feel the blows trying to permeate to the softer parts of your body. The self-defence ain’t working… 

But something else does.

You remember where you been… how long it took you to be here…you see them laughing saying you are no worth. You feel the pain and you rise. 

You rise 

It’s like a fire quickly ignited-it never died out. You suddenly go into a rage… An inferno breaks and the pain of your sore body is not enough to numb you… You kick back.. hit hard and this time around your kick sends your enemy flying …Your opponent goes down…

And you win 

You love to win! 

It’s the one thing you live for and the pain was worth it… every inch of it was worth it.

 

One way ticket…

What will happen on that gruesome day…that day that we all dread and never entertain thoughts off? What will happen when on that fateful day, by whichever means I will exit this side of the horizon?

I hope against hope… to exit slowly …to be caught up in that moment,…to have time to plan,… to say goodbye,… to kiss the man of my dreams and to tell him goodbye…

I hope against hope to have time to plan for my next stopover at heavens gate …Hoping ill have the ticket ready…and that angels, granny and grandpa who went on will be there holding out a sign for me in amidst the crowd at Heavens Gate…I hope they will be there, cause it would be great to see someone you knew so well…I hope that I won’t miss my family all so much and that they will move on as fast and not be buried in the loss…I hope in heaven we can Skype on and off make up for all the time we never talked with Dad, maybe we can start over…

I hope against hope that ill have time to say am sorry, sorry for the hurt I have caused …and for the life I have lost.

I hope I will have time…

“If we died in him, we will also live with him”
2Tim2:11(NIV)

@wanjirumuoria

Mercy seat

To say the truth..am scared…
Am worried most times…of loss …of incapacitation. Fears, just like you fear.. so  I do what I have to… I work harder, I defend further, I walk faster, I pray lesser…running in the wrong direction…and before I know it I have lost sight,  sight of what’s important… I fail in a bid to keep.

I have nights of pacing ..sweaty nights, fear torments, that all I could be holding on to might as well go with the wind…Fears of hate and loss. Fears of lack. Fears of eventualities claim their part ..so I do what I have to do…

So I bring them to your throne. I come in fear, that you will reject…for you see I have not done right…nevertheless I come.

Where mercy will find me..where grace will cover and love will embrace..where strength and wisdom I will find.
For I am a wretched man in need of saving…Jesus,  to thee I look.

In wholeness, I leave… I am not just encouraged but am guided forever there is a way.

Forever I find relief.

Wanjiru Muoria

Comfort…

Wanjiru Muoria

The mask dropped and she could see right into my eyes…
My eyes were teary …
I wanted to hide them but they resisted …
“We did all we could… Am sorry…”
The words were cold and those of regret and helplessness.

How else could we say it to make it look like it wasn’t a recipe gone wrong or a football match lost… but the actual enormirty of a life lost and history changed..a beginning of broken hearts and a story that could never be re-written…

“Death is swallowed up in victory.
Oh death, where is your victory?
Oh death, where is your sting?”

The Living Bible
1cor15:55

RIP James Kabuchi
gone too soon.

View original post

Fare thee well…It is well.

For every penny honey…for every penny…we will do all we can, we are in this together…don’t give up just yet..well get the best treatments…!! Kaidi went through the plan over and over to Aula..over and over he spelt out his strategy for their victory every day, Aula would smile. She loved his energy it kept her going. This would be her sixth year…

This would be his last words as she got wheeled in the operating room. You see Kaidi had spent the last 6years fighting Aulas graven cancer he had stood by her..he had vowed to be there and he was positive they would win…

It’s until this week that everything started looking grim. Aula had lost so much weight and the complications of the chemotherapy had left her very weak. It was painful for him to see her this way. Her smile had fickled.

Today she took a pen and in her hand spelt out her final love letter…a song that would leave Kaidi at peace..and hold him when she had gone…
She told him she would be okay…She had seen angels and everything would be okay…She then dropped the pen, and then in an almost easy way smiled her last …

They wheeled her in..one last time.

To all our fallen heroes
who have fought the good fight and have gone on home to receive the prize.

Rest In peace.

Comfort…

The mask dropped and she could see right into my eyes…
My eyes were teary …
I wanted to hide them but they resisted …
“We did all we could… Am sorry…”
The words were cold and those of regret and helplessness.

How else could we say it to make it look like it wasn’t a recipe gone wrong or a football match lost… but the actual enormirty of a life lost and history changed..a beginning of broken hearts and a story that could never be re-written…

“Death is swallowed up in victory.
Oh death, where is your victory?
Oh death, where is your sting?”

The Living Bible
1cor15:55

RIP James Kabuchi
gone too soon.

We forget…sometimes

Sometimes we forget their names … it’s not our fault really …they are just too many.

Some days the numbers go up to a hundred, you would too,  if it were you. When they call you on the streets with this dazzling twinkle in their eyes and you are confronted with the thought where you saw them last. They are just too many, some significant, some honourable and less honoured. It’s all the same.

Oh… but the memory, the memory lingers. The excitement some hold when success tales were lived and some that make you squirm with shame when you recalled missed objectivity and countless arguments that never worked to favour one Mr Ramuel, in the care he so entrusted us and yet we…I felt like we had failed him and led him on to his early departure to the world beyond. Some relived in the countless adrenalic zones, where  God came in just on time, cause even we, are not God. Yet we so often forget and bear his part.

Its the memory of the dying ,the dead,the living that lingers when we walk with them on that path and yet never get them back.Its the horrid feeling of loss that keep replaying, that we cannot forget,and the painful question of what if…Its their elation,their resignation, their disappointments. Yes, the names may elapse but their faces we hardly forget…It is simply hard to forget..

 

Wanjiru Muoria.