This one is for everyone who’s mourning the loss of someone or something dear. Grief is a complex process. It is painful and frustrating and annoying. But there’s hope at the end of the tunnel.
Have you lost a close friend before? Well, I have, and I’m sharing my experience with you.
I’ve learnt a few pertinent lessons from losing a dream friend, which I’m sharing today. Although time is supposed to heal the wounds, it doesn’t always. We just learn to live with the pain and let it spur us to other things. Find out more on the blog.
Hello everyone, I hope you are all well. Fellow East Coast people, I hope the snow isn’t too depressing! For today, I would like to share three things that have been on my mind for a while- emotional pain, blogging, and 50 Shades of Grey. 1. Moriah– I started a blog when I turned 18 two years ago. Somewhere along the line, I became convicted that I wasn’t ready to blog, so I deleted the site. That’s how serious I have always intended to take a blog whenever I did start one. Barely a month into launching this new blog, I am already running out of ideas.
First of all, thank you very much for the love and positive feedback on my last post about my sister. Please keep sharing your thoughts with me, as I really appreciate thoughtful, constructive feedback about relevant topics I should write about, and just general thoughts. Today, I want to share a few lessons I learnt in January. I intend to do this at the end of every month to ensure that we have enough material for thorough reflection come December 2015, and determine how to improve in 2016. We’re still creating that Dream Woman, remember! Healing- ‘To Make Whole’ I’d like to use an analogy. Imagine that you have a jug that is filled with water. But you want to fill your jug with orange juice. Try as you may, you cannot fill that jug with orange juice unless you empty the water. This, dear friends, is what the Lord has been teaching me for a few weeks now. Please pardon me if you find this post slightly vague, the point is not to share my …
The snow days always filled him with awe. He never understood how white flakes fell from the sky so quietly and so peacefully. Growing up in Port-Harcourt, it was always a slight variation of the same breeze that caressed your face- thick with humidity in the rainy season, dry and aggressive in the harmattan. But here in America, one needed two entirely different wardrobes for summer and winter. But today was not the day to think of Port-Harcourt and become homesick. It was a day to admire the snow and the maker of the snow! His love for the Maker of the Snow was long coming as he had grown up in a Christian household, although he was not quite sure when the Holy Ghost fire caught his mother, and she began to spend night after night in vigil.