Navigating Grief: A Personal Journey Through Loss

 It’s around 5:30 in the evening, and I’m heading home after a successful “baby catching” event for a colleague. My phone rings, and it’s my cousin. He asks if I’ve spoken to Mum. I respond, “No, why? Is something wrong?” He hangs up abruptly. I try calling back, but there’s no answer. My senses immediately go on high alert.

That Friday, I had planned to attend church for our usual end-of-month prayers. As we began to pray, I felt a profound heaviness settle over me. I whispered a quiet prayer, “God, I don’t know what’s coming, but please grant me the strength to face it.” I settled into my seat, waiting for our pastor’s sermon. Known for his fiery delivery, our pastor preaches with such intensity that each sermon feels like it could be his last.

Tonight’s sermon was about “Four Days Late,” focusing on the story of Lazarus and the idea that even when life’s events seem delayed, God can still bring them back to life. As I listened intently, someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to step outside. The messenger, with a somber tone, said, “I love you, but I have some difficult news.” In that moment, my mind flashed back to my cousin’s call and the uneasy feeling I’d had earlier.

The news was devastating: Dad had passed away. The world as I knew it shattered. I had loved my dad with all my heart.

Dad was my greatest supporter, the one who constantly reminded me of my worth and made me feel validated without needing anyone else’s approval. Now, I was left grappling with questions—how, where, and what happened. I learned that Dad had been traveling, had stopped to wait for his siblings, and then suddenly collapsed and passed away.

The days that followed were filled with intense pain—pain from not being able to say goodbye, pain from the harsh reality of his absence, and fear of what lay ahead. I immersed myself in every sermon about Lazarus I could find, trying to understand the strange coincidence of hearing such a sermon on that day. Amid the well-meaning clichés offered to the grieving, the one statement from a friend that has sustained me is, “Your dad has died, but God hasn’t. He is still your Father.”

A year has now passed. A year of disbelief and profound sorrow. They say time heals all wounds, but it feels like time has only allowed me to cry in private and maintain a brave front in public. This year has brought triumphs, yet the emptiness remains because Dad was always the first person I called with good news. Now, every piece of good news is a reminder of his absence. My birthdays, once marked by his song and a “chicken” on Mpesa, now serve as reminders of what I’ve lost. But c'est la vie...

Through it all, I’ve learned to take it one day at a time, offering myself grace on the tough days, and holding onto the hope that someday, I might find peace.

Why am I sharing this personal story on my blog? Because I’ve come to realize that even those of us who seem strong and professional face profound loss and grief. It’s okay to feel deeply, to cry, and to acknowledge your pain. It doesn’t make you any less human.

Have you experienced grief? How did you cope?

Lady, You are Enough

Today , as we commemorate International Women's Day, I thought of asking this  one question that has been lingering on my mind for a while now, are we ever enough? Here is why I ask that:

The other day as I sat to have my brows trimmed, a lady walked in and commented  "wow you have such lovely bushy (or did she say voluminous eyebrows),  if I had such I would never trim them".  Then I  remembered,  long ago  I  didn't use to trim them until when people commented that they were too bushy.Nothing wrong with trimming eyebrows, but if the reason  is to be enough,then there is a challenge.

Those that know me know that I am not "physically endowed" I learnt this body type is called ectomorphs (finally  i get somewhere to use my newly learnt word🤣) By and large , I am okay with my body size. Yet time and again, I interact with people that remind me that I need to be weighing more, at my age. Then others tell me they wish they could weigh what I weigh. The irony, I have observed,  is the small want to be bigger,  the bigger want to be smaller.

For some time now I  have wished I had a deeper voice to compensate for my petite body, just so that I can be "more enough".  

I ask again,  are we ever enough? Who set the imaginary weight that we should weigh? Who set some of these standards that we all are trying to achieve? The unnecessary reminders that we are not  good/beautiful/light/dark /tall/all the bla bla bla enough?

I have nothing against becoming a better version of yourself, by all means,  be better tomorrow than today. However, looking at some of the absurd things happening in our society lately, many ladies (and maybe men) are struggling to be enough, to fit in, to be more acceptable to peers. If our self development  is for us to fit into some imaginary bracket of "this is how we should be by now", then there is a problem. 

On this Women's Day,  I thought to remind you ( and myself)  that you and I are enough. God made you fearfully and wonderfully. He knows you by name, you are engraved on the palm of His hands. He upholds you with His righteous right hand, you are His, you are loved, you are enough. Don't waste all your life trying to be "enough" You already are. In the end, what matters most is your identity in God, not the jury of public opinion. 

Cover Other's Nakedness

I have not dropped any ink yet, this year, so allow me to say Happy New Year. I trust your year has started well  and that you are hopeful about the year ahead.

Today I would like to take a moment to reflect on Genesis 9: 22-23 that reckons:

"Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father naked and told his two brothers outside. But Shem and Japheth took a garment and laid it across their shoulders; then they walked in backward and covered their father’s naked body. Their faces were turned the other way so that they would not see their father naked".

As I read through the verses, I couldn't help but draw similarities about how sometimes as a society, we do not so well at covering one another's nakedness. How often do we broadcast other people's failings to the entire world? Perhaps with the expectation that it will make us feel better? How often do we watch people we know go through embarrassing moments, but rather than helping them, we gossip to other friends about how so and so is this and that nowadays? 

Our modern day version of Ham is to some extent depicted in how we use our phones. When we see an incident, rather than going forward to support the person in need, we take photos and share to all social media sites. Reminds me of a story of the journalist who was covering some news in a time of drought and famine, and rather than giving a dying child food, he decided to capture the moment when the vulture was snatching the child, this was a perfect shot that earned him accolades world over, until someone asked him why it didn't cross his mind to help the child. Unfortunately, he committed suicide at the realization of what he had done.

Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

As the year begins, I beseech you to cover others nakedness. Don't expose their shame and shortcomings to the entire world. If a friend is in trouble, just help them. Drop the phone, no need to capture their moment of weakness, just help them. Simple.