Guest post – Fear is my middle name. We are well acquainted.  So are many people living in this country. Fear follows you when you leave your house at night. Fear breathes down your neck when you see protests flash on the T.V. screen. Fear drives people onto one-way flights. But in my case, the state of this country does not inject fear into my veins. Sure, it’s not pleasant. Sure, I’m sometimes scared. But my fear is driven by something deeper. It’s fuelled by a frightening uncertainty and, frankly, a lack of trust.

Allow me to put you in the picture. I’ve dreamed of being a stay-at-home mom all my life. It was never “not an option” for me. Ever.

After my first year of teaching, I was ready to give up and, due to a number of circumstances, I left my job. Then I assumed God would give me something else. Which He did. It was only a term. But it was something. I fully expected Him to give me another job but I sat on the first day of the second term at home and unemployed. Yet, before the end of the week, I had another short-term job lined up. And so each month went. Just when we were running low on cash, I got a phone call or someone would leave an envelope in my husband’s pigeon hole or on my dad’s desk containing some life-saving notes. And that’s how we coped that year on “one salary”. Purely by God’s grace.

Fast forward a few years. I had a good job that paid a pretty good salary. And, I was happy. All except for one thing. I desperately wanted to start a family. But the more we reviewed our financial state, the more we realised that it was going to be hard to live off one salary. Because, technically we hadn’t done it before. It had been supplemented by the goodwill of other people. I’ll never forget someone saying that if you wait to have enough money, you’ll never have kids – you’ll never have enough money to have kids.

I had to convince my husband. He, despite being the one to generally trust the Lord, was the one holding back. I, on the other hand, was ready to jump forward in faith with both feet!

Around the same time, we started baby talk, there was talk about our inheriting a decent sum of money. But that’s all it was and, in fact, it seemed too good to be true.

On the last day of October, we sat in the kitchen after church and I brought up the baby debate again. My husband told me that he wanted to wait another 6 months until we knew if we were going to inherit this money or not. He must have mentioned something about trusting God for the right time. I looked him in the eye and responded simply,

“When you have the money in your hand, it’s no longer trusting God.”

And, after he paused for a few moments, he looked at me without another argument and said,

“Okay.”

A month later, I was pregnant. Two months later I resigned.

It was quite a scary moment to be asked the school principal whether I was sure I wanted to resign. I was sure! But now my salary had an end date and I couldn’t change my mind if things became turbulent and we needed an income. I wouldn’t be able to wake up and decide that thank you very much but I’d like my job back please. A week later, I tapped out the resignation letter and handed it in as a mere formality. My teaching days were now numbered and the countdown began.

We were two months away from due date and I was lounging, if one can, in a chair with the other staff at work. A message came through and I glanced at it half-heartedly. Then, as fast as a pregnant woman can, I sat bolt upright and studied the massive amount that had just been transferred into my husband’s bank account. I honestly thought I would never see the day that we inherited money like this, nor did I think God would provide in this way for us. It seemed too good to be true!

The house we had built and now struggled to afford became affordable. And we were able to pay for much more. If that wasn’t “enough”, my provident fund paid out a nice sum too when I left work a month later. We decided to use it as my “salary” until it was no more. To make things even sweeter, I unexpectedly managed to score UIF even though I had resigned! For the next year, finances were secure. In twelve months, I fully expected to have something on the go.

Man, were we so thankful that the Lord provided so abundantly. At the beginning of June, only a month away from our baby arriving, we hadn’t known how we would cover our costs. By the end of June, we had an impressive figure in our bank account and enough money over and above that for day-to-day living. I worked out that we would manage until February just fine using my provident fund.

We didn’t expect the Lord to answer our prayers with such an incredible amount and with no work on our part. Sure, we had to be careful. And yes, there were times when the amount looked so spectacular that we thought it would be just fine to splash out.

In the January of the following year, I decided to start up a small home industry project and make gluten free goodies. I thought I’d hit the jackpot when small shops, with very little effort on my part, agreed to stock my goods. God had come through yet again! I made sure I’d set this up before money ran out. And although I seriously disliked the rigmarole of keeping everything separate and free of cross-contamination, I had an extra income.

But as the last of the money dwindled and the reality of tedious baking hours between chasing a crawling tot around sobered me up, I realised that we would not make ends meet on a meagre few hundred rand extra each month. And I couldn’t increase my baking hours. Reality began to set in again.

We began to pray more earnestly.

As God often does, He came through at the eleventh hour. Tax season, baby! We got a tax rebate. It would tide us over for another few months. Just when that was about to run out, it was December again and my husband got his bonus. Again, the Lord had come through.

There were often times when our faith wobbled and wavered. It was scary. But we always had enough. There were some weeks when I wondered how we would buy milk the next week. But God came through, time and time again!

January 2019 saw me heavily pregnant again and finances low. We couldn’t afford one child never mind two but Baby 2 was about to make an appearance. Praise God February would bring in another tax rebate and help us over the next few months. My gluten free goodies were no longer a possibility now with two “tinies” and only one me. It was way too time consuming.

I silently hoped that someone would throw us a second baby shower and ease the pocket of nappy expenditure. A few weeks before, God heard my silent wish and my husband’s work spoilt us. And just when I had made peace with the fact that my friends probably didn’t plan on one, I was surprised with one less than 24 hours before the birth. (Many were none the wiser about the scheduled caesar date.) I could breathe a little easier knowing we had a decent stock of the essentials and wouldn’t need to find money to diaper our baby.

I started a blog, hoping to soon earn money from it. But, it proved harder than I thought; in fact, just about impossible.

But yet again, as He had done before, God prompted people to gift us with the odd bag of groceries or an envelope.

But yet again, money vanished. So far, we had managed to steer clear of our savings account. Based on our current track record, I assumed God would continue to protect our savings. But, here we were and I assumed wrong. We began to dip into savings. And soon, savings were looking sad. And suddenly panic that had consumed me many years ago began to rear its ugly head. I had no idea how we were going to manage. Reserves depleted and way past Plan C, we had no idea how we were going to keep on. It was a scary place to be.

There have been several moments in my life when I’ve thought we couldn’t trust God any more than we were with our finances. There have been many times when I’ve felt a deep-rooted fear. Fear in the face of uncertainty. Fear because there was no assurance of an income. Fear driving decisions we made instead of trusting God. There have been other times when I’ve felt complete peace, complete trust and have been completely at rest. But then, we are always pushed a touch further.

When is it really trust? Are we really trusting God if we have a back-up plan in case He doesn’t come through? I think you know the answer as well as I do. God had brought us to a place where we had nowhere else to turn but to Him. There were no more back up plans, no more secure pockets of cash. We now had two choices – trust Him and believe that He would provide or try and make a plan for ourselves. My husband often prayed that I would trust God more. Now I was having to put my faith into practice – I had nothing left and control was now beyond me. God had brought me to the end of myself and had made me solely reliant on Him. The real test now lay before us.

The lyrics of Oh my Soul sang softly in my head,

Oh, my soul
Oh, how you worry
Oh, how you’re weary, from fearing you lost control
This was the one thing, you didn’t see coming
And no one would blame you, though
If you cried in private
If you tried to hide it away, so no one knows
No one will see, if you stop believing

It was true. I didn’t see God bringing us to this. But maybe, just maybe I was exactly in the place He wanted me.

Oh, my soul
You are not alone
There’s a place where fear has to face the God you know
One more day, He will make a way
Let Him show you how, you can lay this down
‘Cause you’re not alone

All He wanted me to do was to put one foot in front of the other. He was holding out His hand to me (I always think of Aladdin when I hear this) and asking me,

Do you trust me?

Lyrics of What if I Gave Everything ring true…

So why am I still standing here?
Why am I still holding back from You?
You’ve given me a faith that can move a mountain
But I’m still playing in the sand
Building little kingdoms that’ll never stand
I hear You call me out into deeper waters
But I settle on the shallow end

I’m so tired of standing here
What if I gave everything to You?

And when I reluctantly put my hand in His and I couldn’t see through the fog of impossibility, He was walking the uncertain road ahead of me and willing me to put one foot in front of the other on the sure ground He had already walked on – He was busy making my path straight. I might hear scary things along the way – not the sound of wolves howling in the valley of the shadow of death but the subtle doubting questions of distrusting sceptics. I may wander off the path thinking I know better from time to time. But when I slip, He will be holding me. When I doubt, I will feel the reassurance of His presence one step ahead of me as He guides me with His right hand.

All I need to do is put my hand in His, have faith and not fear and just…trust!

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For a long time I would send myself into a crazy anxiety attack, as I lay in bed at night thinking that every single sound I hear is out to get me and my family.

Did I hear someone at the door? What if a gang of tsotsi’s are breaking in, what happens to my kids?! Am I smelling smoke? What do I do if there’s a fire?! Did I switch off all the plugs in the kitchen? What would my family do if there’s an explosion?! Is the baby breathing? Did I just hear Jonah choke on something? Is someone at the window?
… and the beat goes on…

Guys, I literally lay in bed for hours obsessing over the safety and well being of my family, feeling completely inadequate and helpless as I consider all the dangers of this world.

It was only after fervent prayer and repentance (because, hello, fear is the opposite of faith) that I soon realised that my fears were eating me up inside. Fear had me offering up my peace on a platter, and all I was left with was angst and incoherent thoughts. Fear had me one-up.

I then read a scripture in Job 3:25 that says: “For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me.”

It reminded me about the law of attraction. I mean, we all know the sayings “what you put into the universe will come back to you” etc, but here in the Bible, it basically confirms that the things Job feared were attracted to him.

I had to take a step back to reassess what I was fixing my thoughts on. I mean, if words have the power to create, then how much power lies in the stuff that we think? And if we believe that thinking good thoughts will yield good results… then what happens when my thoughts are fear-filled and negative?

Now, I’m not saying that we should live in fear because we are afraid that our fears are going to come on us. (My goodness, mental asylum, anyone?) But, what the Bible was trying to teach us is that fixing your mind on what is good and noble and pure yields way better results than obsessing over what is bad and evil. Fear cannot be your comfort zone.

I literally had to take my thoughts captive and cancel fear and every negative emotion, with the realisation that it is NOT my portion and it was NOT going to be my go-to response anymore!
I mean, I’m not saying that we musn’t be wise and aware and alert. BUT allowing fear to control the way I feel, and letting it manipulate me in such a way that I can’t even sleep at night, is the opposite of living in faith.

These days I say a prayer whenever I feel the all too familiar blanket of fear grip me. I pray that God will protect my family and I. I plea the blood of Jesus over all of us, and come against attacks, assaults and accidents. I pray for a hedge of protection around my children – their bodies AND their minds. I ask God for peace, wisdom and clarity to help me make the best decisions for us, according to His will. And I declare that God is bigger than all things.

Because, at the end of the day, the only surety I have is that He’s got my back. And that’s enough to make me sleep soundly at night.

The world is unprincipled. It’s dog-eat-dog out there! The world doesn’t fight fair. But we don’t live or fight our battles that way—never have and never will. The tools of our trade aren’t for marketing or manipulation, but they are for demolishing that entire massively corrupt culture. We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity. 2 Cor 10:3-6 (Msg)

Guest post – A lot of people know that in June, my youngest son burnt around 80% of his body with hot water. I haven’t really written about the experience in full, because it’s still one of the most traumatic things I have lived through.

It was just 2 days after Eli’s second birthday, and we were celebrating Father’s Day. The following day was a public holiday and the kids were on school holidays, so we figured we’d order Mr.D and have a movie night. After placing our orders, we realized we didn’t have ice-cream and chocolate sauce, so made a quick trip to the Spar around the corner. I can’t begin to explain just how normal our day and evening were. I remember walking down the aisle, picking out the chocolate sauce and looking at my kids running ahead of me with such gratitude. My soul was full – in that moment, everything was just as it should be. We were healthy, life was working out, I had just started my new job, my kids were thriving. For the first time in what felt like forever, life was good and we were emerging from what was a very tough season.

We got home from Spar and decided to do a quick tidy up while we waited for our pizzas to arrive. I was in our bedroom, picking up tiny socks from the bottom of my bed, Axl was carrying toys through to his room, Eli was shouting for Tea (quite typical of him.) and Darren, my husband, was taking dishes to the kitchen. I was just about done in the room, but spotted another rogue sock in the bathroom. I told Eli that I was coming through to the lounge, I just needed to put the socks in the washing basket. I had just bent down when I heard something fall in the kitchen – I listened out for any sound, expecting D to say, “I am okay!” – and then I heard the unfamiliar scream of my child. It’s the kind of scream I can’t describe, it shook me to my core. I dropped everything and before I got through my bedroom door, D started shouting, “HOT WATER! HOT WATER!”

I wasn’t aware that D was trying to help out, by softening the chocolate sauce for our ice-cream we had planned to eat later. He had filled a plastic bowl full of hot water, to allow for the chocolate sauce to soften, and I imagine Eli was on his way to the kitchen to ask for tea, when he saw the chocolate sauce in the bowl, so pulled it down on himself. The bowl had hit him on the head, and the hot water had spilled all over his body.

By the time I got to the kitchen, Darren had gotten Eli’s clothes off. I grabbed him and ran through to my bathroom. Darren ran to the other bathroom and tried running a bath, but I was already in the shower – my clothes all on, standing in a cold shower. I started assessing the damage… his skin was coming off on my hands. I screamed, “we’re going to hospital! His skin is coming off. He is bleeding. We need to go!” At first, Darren didn’t think it was that bad, but as soon as he saw the amount of skin coming off his body, he just grabbed everything, and got us into the car. He was on the phone with his mom, asking her to meet us at the Emergency Doctor, I grabbed my wallet, phone… I had no shoes, no bra… My clothes were still wet from the shower. I ran back and remembered to grab my silk gown, to cover Eli. In my mind, I needed to stop touching his skin, so it would stop coming off, so I wrapped him in my gown, grabbed a new nappy for him and ran to the car.

While this was all going on, I had a five-year old completely freaking out. Axl is sensitive to loud noises, and Eli was… well, as you can imagine… screaming.

I also vaguely remember Mr. D kept trying to call me, but I had dropped my phone on the floor of the car, and couldn’t get it without hurting Eli. We pulled out the driveaway, and started making our way to the emergency room. Axl was blocking his ears and freaking out, D was just focused on getting there, Eli was screaming and I wasn’t processing any of it. All I could think to do was pray. And man, did I pray. The louder he cried, the louder my prayers got. We were on Cape Road, when a Golf tried to slip through as the robot had just turned red, almost hitting into our car.

My world froze.

This is how we die. It was slow-motion. The Golf was going to hit into my door.

I shouted, “Oh God, PLEASE! Keep my family safe!!!” And in the very last second, D gained control of the car and swerved, managing to miss the Golf, and continue on our way.

I don’t remember the rest of the drive to the Emergency Doctor. I know I prayed. A LOT. And that when we pulled into the driveway, people ran out the way, I opened the door of the car and just ran. I am pretty sure the car was still moving and I know I left the door open. I didn’t care. I needed someone to help my son.

A gentleman held the door open, the nurses jumped up and ushered me into a room. I was in a daze. They asked me questions. I knodded and shook my head in response.

“Hot water. It was hot water.”

…

“I can smell his burning skin. Is he going to be okay? What do I do?”

…

The nurse was so sympathetic. She spoke softly and calmly, assuring me that he would be okay. Darren and Axl were still not in the room with me. The nurse kept trying to assess the burns, but Eli would just scream louder. They gave him some pain meds, but obviously, he kept refusing them. They got him Burnshield, which I covered my already wet shirt in, so he could lay against me. The doctor came in and confirmed that we needed to go to hospital but they’d make all the arrangements.

We’re not on medical aid.

I had been unemployed for just short of a year. I had just landed a job and was trying to climb out of crippling debt. There was no savings, no cushion, no emergency money, no medical aid.

But I refused to worry. My son needed me.

I called Darren from reception to bring my phone and turned on the Lumineers album. I hushed Eli, danced with him and eventually… the crying stopped. I turned off the light, and swayed in the dark. I still didn’t have it in me to cry, to freak out, to vomit from the worry. I just swayed to the song, and prayed.

Meanwhile, a stranger in the waiting room had taken in Axl. He was holding him and wrapped him up in his jacket. He comforted him and made him feel safe, until his granny came. By the time my mother-in-law arrived, Mercantile hospital had said in order for them to admit us, we’d need R24,000 up front. TWENTY-FOUR THOUSAND RAND – WHO HAS THAT? I could hear everyone talking in reception, the nurse desperately trying to call other hospitals, the doctor trying to reassure my husband, Axl asking if Eli is going to die or if his skin will ever grow back.

Eli was asleep, the nurse and doctor had managed to strap on BurnShield by covering his body in bandages to hold the shields in place. I finally managed to message my parents, and asked them to start a prayer chain. My battery was about to die and I wasn’t able to give much information, because I still didn’t know what was happening. I needed to save the little battery I had to keep playing the music for Eli – it was the only thing that calmed him. Darren walked in. His head fell. “We need R24,000.” Before he could finish his sentence, he was called away. He came back… “A man in the waiting room has offered to pay the R24,000 upfront for us.”

A man – a total stranger – offered to pay my son’s hospital bills upfront. He didn’t just offer. He did it. He EFTed the money right there, the nurses faxed proof of payment and we were ushered back into our car to go to Mercantile. I ran into the hospital, was shown to a private room where they gave Eli stronger meds. The nurses said he’d likely need to be sedated to have his wounds cleaned the following day, and that the bulge on his head from the bowl, would need to be scanned to make sure he didn’t crack his skull but that overall, he would be okay.

My dad arrived with a charger, my sister-in-law arrived with clothes and our family pastor who had just seen our family through the murder of my husband’s uncle, the cancer diagnosis of my father-in-law and the death of my mother-in-law’s mother arrived to pray with us. For the first time, it started sinking in. This was real. This was happening.

The days that followed were long and hard. We spent two days in hospital but were relieved that Eli didn’t need to be sedated, nor did he need to be scanned. The doctors confirmed he had superficial burns and although he was really sore, we could only really give him pain meds and change his dressings every few days. On our last day in hospital, we had to visit the wound sister for the first dressing change.

Having to watch a sister “rip off” bandages from my son’s burned skin, seeing him bleed, while crying “mamma” over and over again, is a memory I will never get over. The more he cried, the more I prayed. The only thing that was going to get me through this was God himself. It’s a memory etched deep within my mind, a memory that makes me cry anytime I give it a thought. The wound sister was cold, heartless, horrible and cruel. She spat out the words, “This is why we sedate them!” As if it was our choice not to – it wasn’t, the doctor said not to. We were only following the doctor’s orders, but were made to feel like we failed, as if the guilt of our child being burnt wasn’t enough.

The care we received wasn’t the best, in general. We only saw a doctor once, they didn’t give Eli meds as often as they were meant to, and the wound sister was one of the worst professionals I had ever encountered. But we were set to leave, well, first we had to speak to a psychologist at the hospital, before they’d sign our release papers. The psychologist spoke to both my husband and I – she assured us that we did everything right. That things happen so fast, another sister chimed in how her own son had suffered 2^nd degree oil burns. They pleaded with us not to blame ourselves, to have peace of mind that he will be okay and that he won’t remember the trauma of this entire experience.

We got the sign off and headed home.

I had a friend who I met on Twitter reach out to ask if she can start a crowdfund, my new boss sent Eli a gift and told me to take as much time as I needed, my mother-in-law stayed with us for a week, to look after Axl, would take him out during the day, stock the fridge and did medicine runs. My dad popped in every day after work to make me coffee and see if I was ok. My grandparents came and dedicated both my children, while we sat around on the floor of my bedroom – it was so informal, but it was perfect. I messaged the stranger who paid our bills to thank him, and his response was, “God provides.”

In the days after, I didn’t feel right about going back to the wound sister at the hospital. She charged R6,000 for the first dressing and said the next 3 would be the same price – I’d rather go without food, to pay a better professional to take care of my son. I decided to call around and met a friendly sister at Schuinville pharmacy. The first time we went to her, she spent 2-hours trying to undo the mess that the previous wound sister had done. She had put cotton wool on his wounds, so the wounds had healed with the cotton wool stuck to it, which meant when they removed the bandages, everything just ripped open again. Two hours. It was pure agony. But these sisters were so patient and reassuring. They eventually got him wrapped up with the right stuff. A few days later, they came to our house to check his wounds – you wouldn’t believe the healing. It was incredible!

By the second week, Eli was walking around again. He was still sore, his movement limited but he was able to engage.

Slowly, things started going back to normal, first I would work from my bed, then as he started gaining mobility, I started working from my desk again. Eventually, 3-weeks later, we were able to take his bandages off for good. We still had months of work ahead of us, and he had a massive fear of water, his scars were bad, but he was alive and God said, “Trust me.”

And so I did and continue to.

Looking back, I know without a doubt in mind that my strength and courage came directly from God. That I acted with God’s knowledge. That God kept us safe in the car. That God put those two men in the waiting room; one who comforted and looked after my son when I couldn’t and the other who has a heart so big, he paid the bill of a complete stranger. I know that God is responsible for my son’s remarkable healing, that He connected me with the right wound sister when I needed, and opened the hearts of strangers who took the time to drop off creams for Eli’s scars. Gosh… God’s hand in my life during this period is just SO big, that I can go on to tell you that weeks after, we realized that Darren had left the bath running, when we made our dash to the ER but that the bath never overflowed because by some coincidence, our bath had a leak. Or, how I really didn’t want to spend such a large sum of money on a Paw Patrol Rubbel Teddy for Eli’s birthday, but Darren insisted and for some reason, that was the only thing that provided comfort to Eli while in the hospital. Small things like the fact that Darren happened to get petrol earlier that day, meant that we got to the hospital when we needed to. SO. MANY. THINGS. Happened, because of God.

God is Good.. So… Soo.. Good.

I made a commitment that I would spend the rest of my life sharing that message and shortly after, launched Cup of Faith. Cup of Faith is a South African online network for Christian women. Our platform is designed to share, inspire and encourage fellow Christian women through podcasts, blog posts, community reading plans, product reviews and much more! Quite frankly, I have no clue what I am doing, try to start an online ministry, but God is on the move and continues to wow me, as He leads me on this exciting new path. While I am based in Port Elizabeth, I have contributors based throughout the country and beyond, with some based in North Africa, Canada, and England – I wanted to create a platform featuring women and their real-life stories but could literally count on my one hand how many women I personally knew, who would want to share their stories… Well… I trusted God, and now we’re a thriving community of women from all ages and walks of life. We have new content being posted almost daily that tackles all sorts of topics that vary from mental health, discovering faith, marriage, parenting, addiction, to posts with helpful Bible resources, weekly freebies and printables. We also have a podcast hosted by myself, an online book club, prayer request, and social media accounts that aim to encourage our followers with daily devotionals and updates from the rest of our network. You can find us at: https://cupoffaith.co.za/

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Guest post – There are moments in our lives that will either define us or break us. Lately I have been wondering which moment I’m living in. This is a narrow space and on either side of me the squeezing seems to be reaching a breaking point. The demands of life cry out to me from the moment my eyes open. I am a mom. A wife. A principal. A special needs educator. I am all things but there doesn’t seem to be space for me in my life.

Its 5am. My alarm blares loudly and it bounces around inside my head. Life rushes in and immediately those familiar anxious feelings encase my chest. It’s a mad dash to get two kids out the house and make the school run to two different schools and then I’m rushing into difficult days with difficult cases and managing issues  and life seems to rush by me while I’m standing still. Life seems to move so quickly that the days blend into each other and when I look again my children are a year older.

We have entered into a moment in our lives where we have our terrible toddler years coinciding with preteen hyper emotionalism. Our days are filled with 11 year old sized tantrums and bite sized ones. My life seems to be reaching within me and pulling out all the patience, endurance and persistence within me. Today I refereed a fight over dog poop…

My toddler, all grown up, announces to the empty lounge “Daisy made a poop, I clean it” and off he goes to pull off the tiniest piece of toilet paper he can get all the while my preteen has heard him and has gone to scoop it up. Toddler arrived back in the lounge to find the poop is missing. He starts crying and I call out around my toothbrush filled mouth “what’s going on” and preteen starts crying hysterically because no one appreciates her and no one cares about her or listens to her. I am now rushing out the door with two crying children.

Parenthood has got me all squeezed out this year. I, like so many others moms, have found myself really soul-challenged by parenting. I worry if I love them enough? Do I tell them enough? Do I discipline them enough? Do I discipline them correctly? Do I give them a voice? Am I teaching them to be strong while still preserving their gentleness? All the while I am on a tapered journey. There are days when I loose faith in what God is doing in our lives. “God, why wont my son sleep?”. “God, why does it feel like I’m losing my daughter?”.

I have wrestled with debilitating fear as I drive away from my children’s schools.  The question mark always hangs in the air. Will I see them again? I try not to catch it instead I let it slip into the faith I carry in my heart. This is a tapered journey, don’t you see?

There hasn’t been some bright light or a booming voice from heaven giving me all the miraculous answers I need for this moment of parenthood that I am in , however, God whispers gently to my tired soul. . .   “The narrow gate and the difficult way leads to eternal life—so few even find it!” – Matthew 7:14.

This moment of life is truly a defining one, it is a narrow gate and if I choose to partner with faith then on the other side is peace, patience, kindness, steadfastness and an unwavering knowledge that God’s got this.

When I wrestle with fear over my children and I choose to submit that to the faith that God will grant me the wisdom I need. He will help me to navigate this transitional season in both my children’s lives. Then I am allowing Him to move in our lives.

I allow Him to walk me along the tapered journey and the destination is fullness, wholeness and peace. I am learning to trust Him with my concerns and He is teaching me that He is in the details. He allows me a moment to lean into His goodness when I watch my children snuggled up together on the couch. Our preteen lovingly wraps her arms around her little brother and he is content. Then I know we will pass through the narrow gate of being pressed on all sides to enter into the rest that faith provides.

I have to admit even Daisy’s poop was a defining moment…

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Guest post – There has been so much chaos in South Africa with gender based violence being on a constant rise in our country.

Today I want to share how I have been using my faith to get through the current chaos in the country concerning Gender based violence happening the first thing that comes to mind is of corse fear because the evidence is their but fear is Satan’s first mechanism here is proof :

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.-2 Timothy 1:7”

It is clear from the scripture above that fear is NOT from GOD so therefore us living with constant fear is not in line with Gods word yes all the gender based violence is scary but I have been choosing not to walk or live in fear it is hard and it doesn’t make sense but I don’t make sense I make faith!!

So how do I choose faith over fear?

1. Remember your identity

We need to remember who we are in Christ and to constantly remind the devil that we know who we are because he will always try to come back to us to test and see of if we really believe the below scripture clarifies who we are and our position in Christ.

“If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.- Colossians 3:1-4 “

2. Prayer

Prayer is communication that you have with your God and in times of troubles like we are in now it is important that we as believers pray for the country because prayer and complaining takes the same energy so instead of complaining and turn it into prayer.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6-7

3. Speak

Yes it sounds simple but speaking life and declaring faith over all these situations happening currently is so important because the bible says you shall have what you say and constantly declaring faith will surely help you surpass your fears.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”- Psalm 27:1

So finally yes we’ve seen the chaos with gender based violence in our country and it is terrible but as believers we must do just that we MUST keep believing God for our country and for the men and women of our country because nothing will change unless we change it by faith.

This life is spiritual and whatever happens in the physical takes place in the spiritual realm first so let’s take charge of our country in the spirit and choose faith over fear.

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Guest post – For as long as I can remember, I have been a creature of habit. Trying not to upset my own apple cart.  I have never been very spontaneous and I never did anything that was not planned. I am a serious organizer. I like a lot of detail and I make lists for everything. I plan ahead and like when things are perfect. I lived a comfortable organized life… that is, until I got saved…

My story is nothing out of the ordinary. God saved me, from a mundane life of comfort. I was prodding around life, trying to please everyone except The One who created me.

A couple of years after I got saved, the Lord prompted me to live a Year-of-Yes. Saying yes to everything Kingdom related. To step down, and allow God to step up in my life.

My Year-of-Yes, turned into a lifetime of yes’s for Jesus and I have not looked back. Some decisions still terrify me, but I now want to and will forever choose God above it all. My yes’s looked like ministry trips, sharing my testimony when and where ever I could, letting God ‘interrupt’ my day to do His work. And as easy as it sounds, it came with it’s challenges, but the more I said yes, the easier it became. My biggest fear, was man. To be rejected, but God released me from that with every yes I spoke.

Five months ago, we dropped our safety net and said the biggest yes we had ever said. To a calling on our lives that we never expected, but yearned for so dearly. We left everything we knew behind and embarked on a Godventure.   Supporting a church plant on the other side of South Africa. We had no idea what to expect, but chose to remain steadfast in God and His plans for us, although we were fearful of the outcome of this gutsy move.

We chose Faith over Fear.

You see, the world is a scary place, but I am not from this world, therefor I refuse to live in fear of it. We are called to bring Heaven to earth. If the King lives in me, I will bring the Kingdom to earth, and fear has no place.

Greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world.

Until next time, be blessed mommies!

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