Sharing with you a little bit of this and that.

Fiction, some thoughts and more fiction.

If you're a first time visitor, feel free to browse and don't be shy to comment!

Also feel free to contact me on fdramani29@googlemail.com!

Enjoy! x

Tuesday, 24 May 2016

It's Been A While

She watched him hobbling by. Oh how he would hobble. Clutching on to that cane of his. Bent over and just hobbling. Barely able to take one foot ahead of the other, as if nothing else mattered but just getting one foot ahead of the other.

Poor man, she thought. Poor old man.

He watched her running, Oh how she would run. Back upright and straight, knees above , and looking straight ahead. Earphones in her ears, listening to music no doubt, hair in a bun bouncing back and forth. Easily able to skip one foot in front of the other.

Lucky lady, he thought. Lucky lady.

She gazed at him as he silently wheeled by. The hands of the one that pushed him in that wheelchair were sturdy, holding on tight. He wheeled on by purposefully throwing bread to the birds.

He saw her walking. Slowly walking. A turn from her usual, he mused. He was always accustomed to her lively gait, but today, it seemed, no more running, no more liveliness, just a slow steady walk.

She saw him standing. He stretched upwards and then to the floor. No stick in sight, no wheel chair to be seen.

He watched her hobbling. Oh how she would hobble. Clutching on to that cane. Bent over and hobbling. Barely able to take one foot ahead of the other.

Poor lady, he thought. Poor old lady.

She watched him running, Oh how he would run. Back upright and straight, knees above , and looking straight ahead. Earphones in his ears, listening to music, no doubt, hair slicked back, Easily able to skip one foot in front of the other.

Lucky man, she thought. Lucky man.

He gazed at her as she silently wheeled by. The hands of those that pushed her in that wheelchair were loose, barely holding on. She wheeled on by, aimlessly throwing bread to the birds.

She wheeled past him, as he freely ran. He stopped, she stopped and they both turned towards each other.

'Hello', he said

'Hello', said she.

'What happened to you?' he asked

'What happened to you?' she replied.

He took the wheels from the one who was supposedly helping her, and pushed her to a bench where he parked her, and sat beside her.

'My story?' he asked.

'Yes, and mine afterwards' she replied.

'I hated the world', he said. 'I got involved in things I shouldn't have. It didn't bode well for me. It almost destroyed me. But I met someone one day as I lay in the streets, barely able to comprehend my life, or even that which would come after. I asked for help. Realised my errors, and was so sorry for them all. And that someone led me to a place. A place where help was offered, even in the midst of my distress, they were relentless in giving me medicines. They held my hand and showed me love. I tell you, that hospital healed me!'

'And look at me now!' he jumped up, arms outstretched. He looked down at her encased in her wheels. 'Sorry', he said meekly.

'What is your story?' he asked, as he sat back down gingerly.

'Mine?' she laughed. 'I, like you, made terrible mistakes. I was naive, lonely, confused and got involved in something I shouldn't have. But for some reason, I was left to deal with it alone. You see, I was sick for a while, and then I got taken to the hospital just like you. I got better, and was doing really well, but then, suddenly, I got sick again, but this time, because I was already a patient, I wasn't allowed the same remedies. I suppose it was my own fault anyway. Seemingly, there were prerequisites. Once helped, never again. So, I was rejected. Said I should leave and never return. Funny enough ,others had gone through worse than me, but for me it was an absolute no no'.

'Wait, your hospital told you that?' he asked. 'Even the Nurses and Doctors in that hospital that owed you due care in dire moments left you in the time you needed them most?'

'Yeah', she replied, head bowed low. 'I- I guess. Why are you so surprised?

He was silent for a while...

'Did you murder someone?' He whispered.
'What..? No!' she cried out, as she choked on her words. 'Why did you ask that?'

'Hmm, because I always thought hospitals owed people a duty of care, no matter what.  Even murderers are offered a life line. In the moment a heart transplant was needed there should have been every attempt to provide one, even if the one in need declined one, even then...no matter what. No matter what'. Every life matters. I'm just in awe that there was no 'lifeline' offered to you.'

He paused for a moment.

'Did you get a carer when you left?' he asked.

'No', she replied.

'Wow. No one at...all?'

'I said no, ok! Stop asking!'

He was saddened. 'What if you had died in the midst of it all?' he asked.

'I guess...I would have... just died'. She shrugged her shoulders.

'And would your hospital have cared for you then? he asked.

'No', she replied quietly, 'I suppose...no, they wouldn't have'.

'Did you die?' He asked.

'I guess a part of me did, yes.'

'Did you need one?' He asked.

'Need what?'

'A heart transplant .'

'Yes', she nodded. 'Yes, I did'.

He took her hand. kissed it.

'My 'It' whatever 'It' is, got to me to a better place'. He said as he held her hand tightly in his. 'Even if I 'deserved' the worst, mercy said no'. With that he wheeled her away.

'Come with me' he said, I'll show you what hospitals are like - I'll show you what it's like to help someone, inspite of them. With my help, you'll be up and out of that chair in no time'.

'Thank you', she whispered

'What is your name by the way?' she asked him.

'Sal', he replied. 'Simply call me Sal Vation.

Thursday, 25 June 2015

What Really Matters Most

"Isaiah, Please... Would you just go and play with your toys for a minute" I cried in exasperation.


I looked down, and and was met with big round eyes open wide with pools of tears gathering inside. Little hands were clinging onto me in desperation, pulling at my trouser leg, trying to clamber up my leg and onto my lap.

My heart melted.

You see, my 11 month old son, 1 day short of turning 1 years old was desperately trying to get my attention. But I was too busy. Busy putting together numerous photo albums of hundreds upon hundreds of pictures I had printed up of my baby boy which chronicled him from birth to this very day.

Busy wrapping up his untold gifts that had been bought and trying to figure out silently in my head if I needed to get more decorations to add to the ones I had already purchased. Trying to figure out if I needed to get more bubble solution for his battery operated balloon frog bubble blower thingy to create an even bigger experience of ever flowing bubbles to keep him entertained. Wondering if I needed to get more favours to put in the kiddies goody bags. Wondering if there was enough food on the menu for the guests.

My heart melted as I looked into those eyes, and I stopped and drew his tiny little body into my arms and planted kisses all over his face, wiping away the tears that had escaped from the corner of his eyes and trickled down his cheeks. I tickled the souls of his feet and instantly a giggle was released. Another tickle, and this time peals of laughter as a beautiful gappy toothed smile lit up his whole face. He flipped himself over in my lap and faced me as he pulled my nose, then pulled my cheek, then pulled my lip and giggled again, rocking from side to side as he does when he is extremely happy and content.

You see, my son wasn't fussed about the gifts and toys, the photos, the decorations, the bubbles, the food that his tiny stomach wouldn't be able to handle anyway - all my son wanted was...me. It really reiterated the simplicity of children, and how I really wished I was one again. Here I was trying to get all these things done for him, and he was happy just rocking away and having his under feet tickled. I thought about the past year and what a joy it has been to have this boy in my life, and how precious and innocent he is, and how dearly I love him with all my heart.

As I momentarily succumbed to his world of laughter and play, I would just have to wait for his next nap before I resumed back to mine.

Happy 1st birthday Son, Mummy loves you!


Wednesday, 31 October 2012

My Lemon Experience

Back in 2008, I can a recall a moment in my life that I always refer to. It was an early morning, I cannot remember the day, and I was on my way to work in Hammersmith where I worked as a PA. I was really into lemon tea, and at the time I was doing a liquid fast where I would start my morning off with a cup of hot water and lemon juice. Almost like a ritual, it was something I had to do - almost like breakfast to the ordinary person.

So I walked into the nearest Tesco in search of a lemon.  To my disappointment, the only lemon that I could find was the last one in the basket, which had been squashed to within an inch of its life. Dumbfounded, I asked the nearest shop assistant if there were any lemons, but was forced to accept the negative.

Resigned to the next alternative, I went looking for bottled lemon juice. I don’t care too much for bottled lemon juice. It tasted like washing up liquid to me. Yes…I have tasted washing up liquid – a game of dare when I was about 14 – never again – it left me with a very strange sensation of bubbles in my nasal. Anyway - I had to have my lemon tea and that was the next resort as I had no time to find a fresh lemon from anywhere else. As I looked over the shelves and found what I really didn't want, I said to myself, 'Lord, all I wanted was a lemon'. You can imagine my surprise and shock when, as I reached for the bottle, instead of that, I actually picked up...a fresh lemon. Lovely and yellow and perfect in every way. A fellow shopper standing not too far from me, must have thought I was crazy as I turned to her and simply said ‘Look! A lemon!!’.
You may think this account of mine a little unusual, but to me it held much meaning. You see, I had just given my life over to God, decided to walk in the way of a person that believes in Jesus, so I was really into the 'ask and you shall receive' mantra. So for me, this 'lemon experience’ became quite poignant. I would always refer to my Lemon Experience from time to time, when I was in a place where I needed to encourage myself, and remember the small thins of before.

 The reason why I hold this account so dearly to my heart is because it was the smallest thing that I could have asked for - and it was that which I received. I feel that sometimes, people think that God has to move in these amazing waves of lights and fireworks and all manner of miraculous showmanship, and although, that in itself is entirely possible, it was the gentle gesture from God to me to say 'I heard your hearts desire, and I am interested in the very little things that you seek after’.

After that, things in my life seemed to fall into place. I began to pursue my dreams in all areas of my life - in work, career, personal life, friendships – even at times where there seemed to be a delay, the delay was never a denial. I, however went through a season in my life, whereby through my own mistakes and shortcomings and whatever anyone else may want to call it  - stupidity, vulnerability, blindness, things didn’t seem to go so well all of a sudden.  Thrown into what seemed like a wilderness experience, I clutched at the fabrics of the world to see me through. I did want to know about faith living, but I didn’t think I had it in me to follow that road anymore.

Fast forward 3 years without having to divulge too much…I recently had a magnificent vacation to my home country Ghana. There, I made a pact that I would have some kind of Lemon Experience. Having read a book called The Secret – a book based on the Law of Attraction – taken from Proverbs 23:7 - As a man thinks in his heart, so is he. The book talks about knowing want you want, thinking on what you want, and never having doubt about what you want out of life. Whatever you think about is what you attract. Whatever comes your way, is what you put out there, and it comes back to you. Whatever you think about and truly desire is what you get. Well, after having read the book, I was well excited - but there came that little silly voice of doubt. So I decided to fleece – I was going to put the Law of Attraction to the test. I decided to ask for a…lemon. I decided to go back to the beginning and ask God for the smallest thing that I had once desired…a simple yellow lemon. That would simply for me, tie into ‘ask and you shall receive’.  

At home in Ghana, an aunty came to visit, laden with bags full of fruit. A I peered in the bags I saw Paw Paws, Oranges, and Limes. My heart skipped a beat. Limes! Limes?? Do limes count as lemons? They taste similar – the only difference is they are green. In my heart I accepted the limes as being my answer to my simple desire, did a little jig and left it at that. I was grateful that God had heard me and the Law of Attraction was at work.
Up in the mountains in a villa in a magnificent place called Aburi in Ghana, I drove up for a two day stay. I met my cousin there, and she was showing me around the grounds as I gazed in awe at the beauty. The landscape, the serenity, the palm trees, the woodland. Utter beauty and nature at its best. You would off course expect my shock when she pointed towards a tree.
‘You haven’t seen that yet have you?’ She asked. I peered at the tree that stood from afar. I couldn’t make out the fruits that hung from its branches. As I walked closer I gasped. There I saw the most perfect and amazing… lemon tree! Not just one lemon, but lemons, lemons and lemons in abundance….

Sunday, 25 September 2011

Five Minutes Of Your Time Please

They rushed in and they rushed out. Hectic mornings, tired evenings.
He frantically searched for his socks, she threw him over a fresh pair.

He pulled them on and ran out the door in his slippers, returning a minute later to grab his shoes and his tie.

She waited for his goodbye kiss, an acknowledgement of some sort, only to be greeted by the rush of wind as he hurried out.

Busy busy busy, life was busy.

After work, she'd rush home to prepare an evening meal. Dinner was rushed, the effort hardly appreciated.

'Goodness', he commented as he chewed on his chicken, 'You couldn't try and cook something different for once?'

She sighed as she cleared the table and put away her new recipe book of 'new and inventive culinary skills'.

'Sweetheart' she pulled him close one day as he walked in late after a hard days work. 'Can we just chill? I have an idea'.

'And what would that be?' he replied as he tapped away at his blackberry.

'How about, when we come home from work, we take 5 minutes out. 5 minutes to simply just hug, breath in and out, and just chill. No talking, no worrying, no rushing, just chill'.

'That sounds good' he replied, 'I think I could do with that'.

The first few days worked a gem, the 5 minutes of wonder were a God send. Sweet, uninterrupted connection...but off course, old habits slipped back in the midst of the demands of life.

He rushed to and fro, busy making business deals, busy thinking about the next day at work.

'Sweet heart' he sighed, as he pushed her away 'I really don't have time for 5 minutes...I'm just too busy'.

He ran out of the door one day for work but he didn't see the car racing towards him as he crossed the road, he thought he could make it across the green light.

He heard the loud wails of screeching sirens, he wondered which fool had caused himself to be in need of such an emergency.

He lay there on the floor, slowly becoming aware that he was the epitome of the fool as paramedics rushed around him.

Oxygen, mask to his face, he struggled to speak...

'Wait' said one of the paramedics, 'He's trying to say something'. They leaned in close.

'5...' he manged to rasp. 'just give me 5 more minutes. Please...ring my wife...tell her...tell her I'm ready for her 5 minutes.'

He sighed, and took his last breath.

She sat at the kitchen table not hearing the vibrations from her phone as it rang and rang. She was too deep in thought wondering when she would ever get that precious 5 minutes of his time...

Monday, 5 September 2011

You Win Some, You Lose Some

So easy to forget that which is most important when the bane of life gets up close and personal
The sounds of sirens rushing to a called for emergency proves a reminder that life is life

You win some, you lose some

The demanding cries of a new born babe
The flowers placed upon a lost souls grave

You win some, you lose some

What is taken away, another is added
A simple mathematical supplication

One persons abundance is another persons loss
One persons victory is another persons defeat

You win some, you lose some

One persons joy is another persons tragedy
One persons lottery ticket is another persons redundancy

You win some, you lose some

A closed door is another open window
A broken rung on a ladder, is the next step in faith

You win some you lose some...

Saturday, 6 August 2011

Seeds of Faith


These were the words she kept hearing in her mind, day in and day out. She had no idea what it meant, but she could not doubt that she had heard it. In her dreams, in her thoughts, and in her waking mind.

She hoisted her baby son securely on her back with the cloth she had tied around her. She wiped the sweat of her brow as she collected water from the well and brought it back to her home. She had not even enough water to wash her feet. She stepped upon shards of stone, but was oblivious to the pain. Her dirt caked feet told its own story.

Back at home, she laid her pail of water onto the floor as she let her baby boy down to crawl and experience the world around him. He ran to the pail of water as she shooed him away, throwing a wooden spoon at his feet for him to play with.

In the kitchen, she took out the ingredients she needed to make the bread she had been planning to make to eat. She looked at the dismal supply and supposed it was enough for her and her baby boy.

She stood mixing and kneading, rolling the pastry with water into dough ready to be baked. As she placed the bread in her oven, under her breath she prayed.

'Dear Lord,' She whispered. 'Be my Provider'.

She heard a knock on the door the moment her prayer had left her lips. Her flip flops made a methodical sound against the floor as she made her way to see who the uninvited guest was. There at her door stood before her a man. His lips were parched and dry, his eyes hollow from exhaustion.

'Dear Woman' he said, 'I have traveled far, may I please be so humble enough to ask for some water?'

She immediately went to get him some water to drink to sooth his parched throat. His long deep gulps were enough to show that he had been thirsting for quite some time.

'Please, Dear Woman', the man continued. 'Can you spare me some of that bread I can smell coming from your kitchen? For as well as being thirsty, I am also very hungry'.

She paused. She looked back at her baby boy on the floor licking the remnants of the dough from the mixing spoon she had given him. She thought about herself and her baby boy.

'I am sorry dear Sir, I am afraid, I only have enough bread for me and boy here'.

The man, nodded, understanding her, he turned and left.

She went back inside her home to check on the bread that she was baking. She was amazed at the fire that raged from the oven, enough to scorch her face.


There it was.

The once soft small voice that whispered to her, was no longer soft and small, instead it was encased in a burning desire to be heard. And, as if a whisper had caressed her, the hairs on the back of her neck reacted.

'Please!' She ran back and opened her front door and could just make out the silhouette of the stranger walking away in the dark.

'Please, come back' She cried out. ' I have only a small amount of food. It won't be enough for you and my little boy, but the both of you can eat. I will share what I have with you and him'.

She, her little boy and the man sat at her table, as she tore apart the meager piece of bread between the stranger and her little boy. They ate as she looked on longingly, her own eyes hollow, her stomach craving fulfillment.

The man ate his bread,shared it with her little boy, aware that she was lacking, but he ate anyway. Afterwards, he thanked her, then bid her farewell and left.

She cradled her little boy as he cried for more food and milk. She rocked him as she cursed the man who she so willingly allowed into her home, that only left her wanting more provision.

She opened her kitchen cupboards as she cradled her nursing boy to find, that there was an abundance of flour, sugar, milk,and ready made bread. Not only that, there was meat, fruit, vegetables and so much more than she could ever desire.

She got on to her knees as she heard those words again:


1 Kings 17: 8- 16

Friday, 22 July 2011

I Never Did Mind About The Little Things...

I never did mind being the one that happened to get splashed by the huge puddle on the side of the road that everyone tried to avoid

I never did mind craving a hot cup of tea, only to find someone had left an empty carton of milk in the fridge

I never did mind that I had to end up with the last dry bits from an overly abused toothpaste tube meaning I had to brush with mouthwash

I never did mind when the weather report said it would be sunny, only to have to return home with frizzy hair and rain soaked clothes

I never did mind that whenever I painted my nails I would inevitably find a smudge on them at some point

I never did mind reading an amazing book only to find the last page missing

I never did mind getting ready to watch a movie only to find someone had leaked the ending on facebook

I never did mind looking forward to watching my favourite TV programme, only to find I had the times wrong and I had missed it

I never did mind about craving a chocolate biscuit, only to be met with crumbs left in the tin

I never did mind storing my lunch in the office fridge, only to find that at lunch time it had gone awol

I never did mind being on a crowded train and being the one someone sneezed on without covering their mouth

I never did mind sitting on a bus craving peace and quiet only to hear an MP3 player being played ridiculously loud in the back

I never did mind going into a public toilet only to find that the flush didn't work

I never did mind having to stand in the queue at a supermarket for longer than necessary, only to find when being next in line, the cashier put up the 'lane closed' sign

I never did mind sharing an intimate meal with someone over lunch/dinner, whilst they happily engaged in chewing with their mouths open

I never did mind missing my train stop and having to not simply cross over to the next, but go over and under to find the opposite platform

I never did mind indulging in some junk food only to find the food was cold and dry and exactly what was to be expected

I never did mind running out to the corner shop for something specific only to come back with a bag load full of things minus the specific

I never did mind about the days that I attempted a fast, and even the pavement looked appetising

I never did mind queuing at the cash machine for over ten minutes only to find when it was my turn, that there was no cash left...

I never did mind waiting at the post office for over half an hour to send off some forms only to find that I was missing information and had to go back home and search for the necessary and have to queue up all over again

I never did mind waiting on the phone for my mobile phone customer services for 20 minutes listening to repeated music, only to get get cut off the moment someone answered

I never did mind being bounced from one call centre helper to the next only to be redirected to their automated services when in fact I needed human help

I never did mind sitting in the cinema watching a movie only to have the back of my seat kicked rhythmically and having to endure the rustling of popcorn being eaten....

I never did mind enduring the drops of spittle that flew on my face from the one that was talking animatedly to me, and wondering if they would notice me wiping my face

No, I never did mind about the little things....


Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

Thinking back to the days, when back in the days the days seemed to move really quickly

As soon as today was it's own, today became yesterday, and yesterday was once tomorrow, as each passed quickly by

Then there were times when back in the days it seemed as if life followed a snails trail

Couldn't wait for the joys of tomorrow, wishing today away, and hoping that it would be yesterday, buried under the togs of a warm duvet cover counting the sheep away

Either there was too much to do with so little time, or so much to look forward to, and wishing there was no time, so that 'tomorrow' would surely come

Wishing life away in the hope of a better tomorrow, or hoping yesterday could relive itself over for a better today

Always wanting what once was or what could be, wanting to sweep away the broken eggshells and wait for the new yolk to hatch

The 'shoulda, woulda, coulda's' and the 'if, buts and only'

And now, now that 'back in the days' is just 'back in the days', what about the here and now?

The here and now will at some point be 'back in the days' itself

Each day as it comes, for today will always be yesterday, and today will always be tomorrow...and today will always be today.

The remembrance of yesterday, the need of today, and the hope of tomorrow.

Friday, 10 June 2011

Simply Him

She closed her eyes and remembered the days when she couldn't give praise for one good thing to Simply Him.

It was dismal and abysmal, wanting more than what was, for Simply Him.

Needing to understand, yet never really grasping understanding when it came.

Joyful pretense in the midst of others, yet tears on a pillow, searching for Simply Him.

A vacant stare, an empty smile.

She opened her eyes and saw a reason to give thanks to Simply Him.

The reason was... absolutely nothing.

Nothing had changed in her situation or circumstance, for all remained the same.

Yet it was not really 'nothing' that had changed, it was absolutely everything.

Her perspective, her stance, her viewpoint, not through her own eyes, but simply through His.

For though she remained in a place where everything remained the same and she didn't have any reason to give praise for anything, she realised that she had every reason to.


Because she could see through the eyes of Simply Him.

She could now understand that joy or happiness, contentment or whatever names should be given to that one thing that she had sought after was not a need to gain in the physical or material, it was a renewing of the mind and true understanding once connected to the one that was Simply Him.

Simply Him?

Yes...Simply Him drawing one to Him, through love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

Love Himself being...

Simply Him.

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

In The Pursuit of Real love

After trying to fathom Gods pure and unconditional love in contrast to my hopeless failings as His daughter, I thought I would share some thoughts that I pondered on.

What is true love? Real Love?

Romans 8:38-39 tells us that there is nothing that can ever separate us from the love of God.

When I think about what love is, I am immediately inclined to think of beautiful flowers and fancy gifts that outwardly reflect what love is supposed to be. A lovely butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach, and something that puts a smile on my face. These outward shows of what love is meant to be make us feel good and somehow tells us - "this is what love does - it gives us 'things' and it makes us 'feel good".

If we are truly to understand love as it was truly intended, then we must look to the One that created love. Love does actually give us 'things' and it makes us feel good, but not always in the conventional way of fanciful gifts and feel good factors.

Scripture gives us a thorough and sound overview of what love really is. Love, as it is explained in 1 Corinthians gives us comparisons of what love's intentions are in truth, in comparison to what it wasn't intended to be.

''Love suffers long and it is kind'' - 1 Corin 13:4
(Love could be short and be unkind,when called for, but it is not).

In the times when we often feel that those around us are harsh, or unable to deal with our folly ways, in the times when we expect to be met by harshness, love shows itself as different.

''Love does not envy'' - 1 Corin 13:4
(Love could be envious, when presented to be, but it is not).

There are often times when we are in a position where we could be the subject of envy. You could be doing well, excelling in a particular area of your life, unlike those that may begin to harbour bad thoughts and indeed envy you - love does not do this.

''Love does not parade itself, it is not puffed up'' - 1 Corin 13:4
(Love could parade itself and be puffed up, but it does not).

There can be times when we want to shout from the rooftops at the good deeds we have done towards another in the name of love, to tell the whole world about the good intentions we have - true love is not a showmanship of great works and boastfulness, it is at times, quiet and gentle.

''Love does not behave rudely'' - 1 Corin 13:5
(Love could be rude, but it is not).

If you encounter one that says they love you, yet their approach towards you is one that is rude and harsh, all in the name of love - is this really love?

''Love does not seek it's own'' - 1 Corin 13:5
(Love could be about it's own gain, but it is not).

Have you ever thought about doing something for somebody else in the name of love, that may, as you intended make yourself look good in the eyes of others and wrought your own gain?

''Love does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth'' - 1 Corin 13:6
(Love could revel in the downfall of another, but instead it seeks after truth - God Himself, who is love).

Has someone ever fallen, made a mistake, and you silently snigger behind closed doors and tell everybody about it because you couldn't wait for that moment to arrive?

''Love bears all things'' - 1 Corin 13:7
(Love could choose to reject the invitation to carry each others burdens, but it does not).

Has someone ever asked you for help, not once, not twice, but three times, and still you have not made any movements to help them because, possibly you are too busy, or have your own issues to deal with?

"Love believes all things'' - 1 Corin 13:7
(Love could choose to not believe, but instead love believes).

Has anyone ever asked you to stand in faith with them to overcome a particular struggle in their life, even though they have time and time not been able to. You respond my outwardly holding their hand and interceding with them, but your mind has already dismissed them as a lost cause.

"Love hopes all things" - 1 Corin 13:7
(Love could be pessimistic, but instead remains optimistic).

"Love endures all things" - 1 Corin 13:7
(Love could run a mile a minute, but instead chooses to remain steadfast).

You know how it's so easy to love those that are loveable? But then once you meet with someone who has 'issues' you make excuses as why not to pick up their phone call or respond to their messages?

"Love never fails" - 1 Corin 13:8
(Love could choose to let you down, but instead it does not).

When I look at what love is as God intended, I find it interesting to see that the hope of love is presented in parodox with the pitfalls of failings. Love presents itself in situations when it is needed the most and when it is called for. It reminds me of the words that Jesus spoke to those that questioned Him in Mark 2:17- a Physician is on hand to cure and to fix, not to bring further ailment or detriment.

Love could be the opposite of all it presents itself to be, (it could be unkind, envious, boastful and prideful, rude, seek after its own, unbelieving, hopeless etc...). But it isn't, because that is not the intention of love.

Love, as it was intended, was for each to take one another for what we are in the face of grace, rather than condemn and belittle in the face of the law, allowing the nature of love to eventually allow its working to shape us to be what we were intended to be.

Love's aim, I find, therefore, is to react in ways that would in 'normal' situations be deemed as unprecedented. Instead of love reacting in a way that is just and lawful especially in the cases where justice and law is sought after, love instead gives us what we do not deserve, it gives us grace.

Love, as shown in 1 Corinthians relates back to Gods grace - His unmerited favour - in the times when we deserve far worse. Love is God Himself.

As I mediated on this, I was immediately presented with a voice that reminded me of things inside of me that is not in par with Gods spirit.

'Yeah, yeah, God loves you' the other voice spoke - 'but what about your sin? God loves you, ok this much you know, and nothing can separate you from His love - but you forget sin'?

Isa 59:2 states that our iniquities have separated us from God. So many times, I would hear this scripture in sermons, often, out of context. But in context, God was speaking to a people at the time that were rebellious and unwilling to turn their faces to His hand in the hope of receiving His salvation.

2 Corin states:

"God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them''. (2 Corin 5:19)

Sin does separate us from God, and we could look at this in two aspects:

1/ God's view: God hates sin. He abhors it, and he turns His face away from it. Our sin separates us from God, but not from His love.

2/ Our view: We feel guilt when we sin. Like a young child that has engaged in some wrong doing runs from their parent's hand of rebuke to try and hide, they want to run as far from that parent to avoid facing chastisement and the confrontation of their wrong doing.

We often and at times do run from God because we know that our wrongdoing has displeased Him and brought our sin to light. Inside of the child (us) that runs, dwells feelings of shame, embarrassment , regret and fear. We run because we do not want to face what we have done, especially in the face of love presented in it's purest yet mysterious form.

But...the parent, although their hand may be heavy to rebuke, still has love for the child. Their aim to confront the runaway is only to reinforce the love that cannot be separated in the hope of eradicating the error encountered and reinforce redemption and wholeness.

The prodigal son was one who was not unfamiliar with the love and acceptance of his Father in the midst of his own failings. Did the sin of the woman caught in adultery turn Jesus's face away from showing her love and forgiveness? Did the sin of Zaccheus, turn Jesus's face away from dining with him? Does the sin that dwells in you turn Jesus's face away from reconciling you to Him? No,it does not, rather it is His love that draws you and brings your sin to light that you may deal with it. Gods grace and love is by all means not an invitation to sin, it is simply a lifeline in the times that we may inevitably

So, like we may run from God in the face of some wrongdoing, and thus, yes our sin separates us from God, only because of our subconscious at work, the love of God is willing to draw us,despite of this - for we are of a sinful nature, but are are not sin itself.

We are encouraged to trust in God in all of our ways and lean not to our own understanding and to acknowledge Him in all our ways. (All - everything, nothing left out, the small, the big, the good and the bad).

When you draw near to God, His love for you will surpass your sin, that He may rejoice in lovingly reconciling you to Him. make mistakes.

God turned away his face from Jesus when He was upon the cross, unable to fathom the sins of the world that lay upon Christ, yet it was Gods hate for sin that drew His love to Christ,and it was Gods love that resurrected,our Saviour.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him freely give us all things? Who shall bring a charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who dies, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword?

Romans 8:31-35

So, Gods love for us, may not come in the form of fancy gifts and feel good factors, but it runs far deeper than that...to let us know His love as it was truly intended.

Feel free to challenge what I have written or comment or question, as I am just sharing some thoughts.


Friday, 27 May 2011

No To Stalkers!

Bullies. Intimidators, yellow-bellied cowards.

Don't you just abhor them?

You may think my words are harsh, but even Jesus Himself displayed righteous indignation in the face of those that used the Temple for their own gain.

It's bad enough to have a bully in your face, on the school playground, at home or at work, on a daily basis - but to have one who chooses to stay anonymous and taunts and belittles you while hiding behind a masquerade of viral comforts can be dis-heartening.

I have experienced a bully physically...or lets call it what it is - a Stalker. His past gifts and presents of fancy perfumes and expensive chocolates whilst hiding in the dark behind a dingy car did not do much to draw me, instead my heart was repelled at the indecency. Especially since my request was for him to relent, and go about his own business, and this he chose to ignore.

But to have someone that watches your every viral move, day in and day out can be a nightmare in its own right. Fastest fingers first tapping away at a keyboard seated on his lap. Encrypting my Twitter account, (which has now been disabled), making me question those that were in fact innocent, hoping to ensnare me in a spider web that his own mind built for his own gratification, only to find himself caught up.

Constant comments on All Day Every day Talk of what could be deemed as encouraging and edifying words under an alias, soon prevailed to unrelenting messages of abusive, vilifying statements, derogatory name calling, false and weird accusations and worrying regurgitation's of one in need of The Physician. The one in question being a so called 'Christian' who is very aware of his calculated motives and evil intentions as he builds a home in the shadow of quoting bible scriptures and lifting up 'holy' hands in some unknown and faraway happy clappy church where he is deemed 'respected'.

Woe be to the one who intentionally chooses to cause havoc and mock God and point their finger in His face, whilst hiding behind holier than thou sayings yet indulging in temporary scare tactics. How strange that the two afore mentioned can be used in the same sentence.

What a shame it is to live in a world that the Lord deemed for good, only to find so much destruction, those with bad intentions set on a catastrophic cause to fulfill their own foolish and folly fantasies.

I am not perfect, do not get me wrong, I often make mistakes, fall and get back up again, and may be foolish enough to readily admit this to whomever I meet, but the one who has premeditated thoughts - sitting in a dark rank room, a face illuminated by the glare of the computer screen, thinking on how to cause damage to another by calculated means leads to some serious cause for intercessory prayer, that the mercy and love of God may be evident to them. Pray for your enemies right? Don't hate them, otherwise how different would you be to love those that are so easily loveable?

Thank God that in a world that may make no sense at times, He has built a support network to annul and eradicate those that are hell bent on choosing their own path and causing injustice to others along the way.

After finding out the identity of this feeble stalker who chose to stay anonymous, lets just say V stands for Victory.

Phew! Enough ranting and raving.

Be blessed in all you do, seeking good and not evil in all things.

Much love,

Miss Dramani


Monday, 23 May 2011

If There Is A God, Then Why?...

Once out evangelising, on a bright sunny day, a friend and I were talking to this man about Christianity and God and salvation. He asked, "Why if there is a God, that there is so much suffering...and bad things happening around the world?"

I asked if He blamed God for all the suffering in the world, he replied "Yes".

I asked if he had kids, he said "Yes".

I said: "If your child had cancer and lay in bed with tubes running out his body...and he blamed you...would that make sense?"

The man replied "no".

I said: "If your child were to become the worlds most hated figure such as say Hitler, who instilled so much hate and fear and mass destruction, and the taking of human lives to no avail, would you be to blame?" He replied "no".

Then I asked...."So why do you blame God for something, that if you were in the same situation would not be your fault...that you would have to take blame for?"

He said, "my child has not been well, actually for a while. And I want to be the best Father I can be."

"Your child may be asking you the same question" I said, "He may say 'Daddy, won't you help me?', and as you are unable to bring a solution, it would be fine for them to display hate and unbelief towards you...Go on then, why don't you intervene? Go make your child well"

He was silent. For a long time.

"It just doesn't make sense" he said.

Man so wants to be able to stand astute in being the maker of big machines, and all things wonderful, and aptly accessible, so if he can take that appraise, then let him, in the face of the hard times also take praise for that...

The same questions that he had to face were the same that we present to God, yet we forget He is the one with the whole world in His hands, regardless of whether it makes sense or not.

The man who had so many questions, on that bright sunny day, glory to God gave his life to Christ...

Sunday, 22 May 2011

Plain Jane: Part 2

It was early morning when Jane was awakened by screaming. She ran out of her room to see the commotion.

Her Stepmother was prancing back and forth across the living room floor as her two daughters flitted after her.

"It will be me!" One cried.

"No it will be me" The other proclaimed.

"What on earth is the matter?" Jane asked. "Who will be what?"

"You foolish girl" Her Stepmother replied. "You never knew much of anything. You are just an ugly thing who has no idea".

Her stepsisters ran over to her and grabbed her hands. "Plain Jane" They sang. "If you were not asleep you would have heard that the Prince has found the shoe of the one he danced with yesterday night. He wishes to find her. Whomever the shoe fits shall be the one he is to marry!".

"Oh!" Jane cried. "Oh goodness! I thought it had been a dream!"

"A dream?!" Her Stepmother cried. "What on earth are you talking about? What dream?"

Jane rubbed her eyes. She thought it had been a dream. She thought the night before had been a figment of her desperate imagination. She thought her imagination had lead her to a fairy tale dream. Yet now, she was awake, and the Prince was looking for her! The Prince was looking for the owner of the missing shoe! She had lost the shoe! She was the owner!

"I must try on the shoe!" Jane cried.

There was silence. A pin, if it had been dropped would have been heard. Jane's Stepmother and two stepsisters turned to look at her.

In unison they screeched and laughed and fell and rolled about on the floor holding their stomachs and slapping the ground.

"Ha ha ha!" they cried, tears rolled out from the corner of their eyes. "ha ha ha ha haaaa!".

Tears rolled down Jane's face.

"Am I that bad?" She cried. "Am I really?"

Her stepsister got up off the floor and ran for the mirror. "Look, dear Plain ugly Jane, look for yourself".

Jane stared at her reflection. Her face was distorted. Eyes too big, ears sticking out, chin too long, long gangly body.

"Are you that bad Jane?" Her Stepmother taunted. "What do you think after seeing yourself? Who would ever want you? Look at yourself? Go back to dreaming dear girl. You are nothing, and you will always be nothing!"

"But yesterday" Jane sobbed, pushing the mirror away, "I was beautiful, I was not who you say I am".

"Yesterday?" Her Stepmother exclaimed. "Yesterday?? Go back to dreaming my child. Yesterday you were still my silly little niece and that is who you will always be!"

"A good for nothing!" Her stepsisters cried. "Who gets nothing right. Mother, she didn't even buy any food yesterday, what will we offer the Prince when he comes?"

Jane remembered that she hadn't bought the daily supplies, as she felt a cold slap across her face from her Stepmother's hand.

"Now you will go and leave and go to the market and do what you were supposed to yesterday" Jane's Stepmother spat. "At least you will not be here to try on the shoe. Now Go!"

Jane ran back upstairs and got herself showered and dressed. She was surprised as she stumbled across an object on the floor before her. She picked up the tattered shoe that she has worn just yesterday. Absentmindedly she stuffed it in her bag then fled and left the house holding her swollen cheek in her hand, her face flooded with tears.

She ran and ran seemingly forever. She ran and ran and ran and felt a sweet release as her feet hit the floor below her with maximum impact and speed. She ran so fast that she did not see the car that swerved to miss her, but instead careened into her and hit her knocking her flat to the floor.


Jane wiped her eyes and tried to focus. She tried to sit up but her head was fuzzy and everything around her began to spin. She settled back down onto the soft downy pillow that offered comfort to her throbbing head.

''Just relax'' a voice spoke softly as a glass was lifted to her mouth for her to sip water.

''Where am I?'' Jane asked. Grateful for the cold cool liquid that soothed her throat. ''What is going on?''

She felt a hand smooth out her hair and pull the soft covers up to her chin.

''Just relax'' the soft voice said again, a soft and familiar voice. ''You are safe''.

Jane let her body relax as she sank back into the comfort of her surroundings.


''Do you think she will be OK?'' a voice asked. ''She took a pretty hard hit, I mean, thank God that she isn't dead''.

''She will be fine'' another voice replied. ''Nothing a little rest won't cure''.

"She's waking up'' another voice said softly as Jane stirred her head once again.

''Where am I ?'' She asked, as she slowly tried to focus her eyes before her. ''What happened?''

Jane slowly learned from the recollection of those around her that she had been hit by a car. She had been running blindly, tears staining her view that she had not seen the car that had pulled out in front of her. The car that had been driven by her newly found Parisian friend. A deja vu experience of their first encounter.

He had been on a mission to find the keeper of the missing shoe. He had been all round town, but the shoe simply did not fit any of the ladies that had a choice encounter to claim. He had almost shouted for joy even though the circumstances did not give for elation, that the exquisite girl that had danced with the Prince lay before him. There she lay, she was the one. How unfortunate to find her in this way, but what hope that the end would be good. His car had been in a rush to find the one, when out of nowhere the young girl had bolted out in front. He made haste to get her to the nearest hospital and have her tended to.

The Parisian had been all around looking for the girl with no name. A house he had visited in particular stood out in his mind. In it were two young girls of questionable appearance, with their warts and buck teeth as they guffawed gleefully at his presence. Their mother stood intimidating and menacing as she forced the shoe to fit. Both girls tried on the slipper, but their feet had been too big. Each argued inexplicably, pulling and tugging at the shoe until it eventually it flew out of their hands and smashed into tiny glass pieces.

The Parisian cried and wept as it was evident the Prince would no longer find his Belle after the unruly mishap. He was amazed that as he was driving back to the palace to break the bad news, this young exquisite and familiar beauty had crossed his path. He was enthralled that he could have caused her life to be taken from her, and upon impact, had carried her back to his car and off to the emergency room.

The Parisian stared at the Prince as he held Jane's hand and wiped her forehead.

''How now, will I prove and keep to my word, that the one whom the shoe shall fit will be mine?'' The Prince lamented.

He sat regal by Jane's side, as she fell in and out of consciousness. On the third day, Jane's eyes were able to focus. As she opened them, she was able to focus albeit with a squint. She stared at the man holding her hand who sat by her side. Why was he so sad, she wondered. What made him hold on to her hand with such tenderness.

''You are awake'' the Prince exclaimed. ''We have been waiting for you''. Jane stared at his familiar face as she began to remember and recollect her memory.

''I danced with you'' she whispered. ''You are the Prince, this I know now''.

''My Prince'' the Parisian spoke. ''You know we can do nothing. You are bound by your word. If there is no shoe for Ma Belle to try on, she can not be yours to claim". he said as he gently laid his hand upon the Prince's shoulder.

The Prince looked woeful as he buried his head in his hands.

"A shoe you say?" Jane whispered. "So it was not a dream".

"Ma Belle" The Parisian said "Pleaze do not exhort yourself with empty words, you must rest". His accent was stronger the more agitated he became.

"Empty words" Jane whispered, "Yes I am speaking empty words" She replied, resting back on her bed. She lay silent for a while as she tried to make sense of things. "My bag" She croaked, "Please bring me my bag".

The Parisian reached for the bag that had been with Jane when she had been knocked down. From within the bag, Jane pulled out an object and held it tightly in her hands.

"It was not empty words" she smiled slowly, "And it was not a dream". The Prince and his assistant looked as she slowly held up the worn and tattered shoe.

"I was so sure" the Parisian said as he looked disdainfully at the shoe Jane held. "She has the same look in her eyes. Let us go my Prince" He turned to leave.

"This may be what you are looking for" Jane said as a laugh escaped her. She could not help but laugh.

"Wait!" The Prince cried. "And I swore I would never forget that laugh!" He turned to stare at Jane.

"Please" Jane cried as they made a way to leave. "Please do me good and place this filthy shoe upon my foot".

The Prince and his assistant stared at her.

"You owe me that much" Jane said. The Prince took the worn out shoe from her hand and placed it upon her foot, surprised and taken aback that the moment he did so, the shoe turned into the beautiful glass slipper she had worn the day before.

"Ma Cherie!" The Parisian cried. "The shoe had to fit! And off course, it did!" He danced around the room elated.

The prince rushed to Jane's side and held her head in his hands, knowing at that moment that he had found what was always meant to be his....

Friday, 20 May 2011

That's Heaven To Me - Sam Cooke

I love the one that is called 'The Man and his Music' - Sam Cooke. He is one of the old soul singers that inspires me the most along with a few others. His mellow sound and touching words, unassuming, clean cut, direct and so full of so much insouciance, and at times melancholy with the ability to mix the two together. Pure genius.


That's Heaven To Me - Sam Cooke

(The things that I see as I walk along the street)
(That's heaven to me)

A little flower that blooms in May
A lovely sunset at the end of a day
Someone helping a stranger along the way
(That's heaven)
That's heaven to me

The feeling I have when I hear a touching prayer
It makes me know the Lord is somewhere
Even the birds flying around in the air
That's heaven to me

It doesn't have to be a miracle in order for me to see
I know the goodness of my
My Saviour is everywhere to me

Even the children playing in the street
Saying a friendly hello to everyone that they meet
Even the leaves blowing out
Blowing out
Blowing out
Blowing out on the trees

(That's heaven)
That's heaven to me

Not forgetting however just a few other favourites:

Twisting The Night Away
What A Wonderful World
Touch The Hem of His Garment
Only Sixteen
Everybody Loves To Cha Cha Cha
You Send Me
Change Is Gonna Come
Chain Gang
Sad Mood
Bring It On Home To Me
Having A Party
Win Your Love For Me

If you get the chance, chill, relax, and have a listen.


Sunday, 15 May 2011

Plain Jane: Part 1

He couldn't help but stare at her. She was breathtaking. Her face quickly scanned the crowd, she looked nervous as she hurried along. Her clothes were a mess, but he was captivated by her. She turned her head, as if sensing somebody was watching her. His eyes met hers as he lifted up his camera and took a picture. She weaved in and out of the crowd and just as quickly as she was there, she was gone.

''I need you to go out there and find me that girl'' He said once he was back at home and handed over the picture to his right hand man. ''My debut takes place tomorrow. Find this girl and make sure she is present.''

''You are odd!'' Jane stood with her head down as the woman in front of her screeched at her. ''You are simply quite a strange specimen.''

Jane stared at herself in the mirror. She turned from one angle to the next.

''Yes,'' She nodded in agreement. ''I am odd.''

She mopped the floor and swept the stairs, cleaned the kitchen and took out the rubbish. On her way back in closing the door a letter fell through the letter box, she reached to pick it up.

''Give me that you mongrel,'' The woman snatched the letter away. ''Your big eyes, you need to go and see the Doctor about them dear, maybe he can fix it.''

Jane stared at her eyes in the mirror. They seemed too far apart, and one was slightly bigger than the other, just slightly, enough for her to notice.

''Yes,'' she nodded in agreement. ''My eyes, they are too big.''

The woman read the letter and crooned as her two daughters clapped gleefully as they stood by her side.

"You have been cordially invited to the ball!'' The woman screeched as she read the letter and kissed her daughters. 'We've been waiting for this!'

''Am I invited too?'' Jane asked.

''Look at your eyebrows!'' The two daughters shrieked. ''They meet together in the middle. Off course not you!''

Jane stared in the mirror, and could only agree. Her eyebrows were bushy and set at a strange angle.

''And what is the matter with your cheekbones?'' The woman shrilled. ''Soon people will be telling me I neglect you.''

Jane turned and peered. Yes, her cheek bones were too high, giving the impression of one that ate too little.

"What is going on? The Wicked Witch meets Dumbo?'' The two girls swatted Jane across her head.

Her chin was pointed and her ears stuck out.

She took a step back and viewed her full profile. She squinted at the sight before her.

Her arms were too long almost as long her thin gangly legs and she was far too tall. Her dress was a dirty brown and the apron she wore was an off white. Her shoes had holes in them and her long blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun.

''I'm a disgrace'' was the words that escaped her lips.

Jane sighed as she finished washing the windows and got ready to go out to buy the daily food supplies.

"Hurry up and get yourselves prepared girls" The woman clapped her hands together as she addressed her daughters, "We don't have long, we've only just received the letter and the ball is tonight, goodness knows I've been waiting long enough for it! Come now, hurry along!"

''Bye Plain Jane!'' The two girls trilled as they ran off to get ready for the ball.

Jane stared at the long list her Step Mother had given her as she set off to the market.

Out and about, she noticed people were staring again. Eyes would look at her, women seemed to sneer. It was always the same.

She walked quickly, her head down, not wanting to meet the stares of others. She tried to smooth out her worn out clothes.

''Am I that bad?'' Jane thought. People staring, whispers behind gloved hands.

A man had even taken a picture of her yesterday, no doubt he was enthralled by her ugliness. After all her Stepmother and two step sisters constantly reminded her of what she was everyday.

''I need to hide away.'' Jane cried out as she ran into in alley forgetting about buying the food supplies. The short cut would take her back home quickly.

She was surprised when she heard the screeching of car tyres and was stopped by a long sleek black car that suddenly swerved in front of her blocking her way. The doors opened and out climbed a man with a regal stance, his words rapid, falling over each other.

"Ma Belle". The man spoke out in a strong Parisian accent. He held a photo in his hands as he clapped them together in excitement.

''You are exquisite,'' He breathed. ''You are ze one! Your stature, so tall and aristocratic" He took her hand and twirled her around.

"Sorry, I-I think you have the wrong person" Jane stammered. He couldn't possibly be talking about her.

''Non, mon amie, it iz you. Your eyes, so perfectly set apart, yes, yes, a mystery I see there" He stared deeply.

''Your cheekbones, so highly defined, your chin, set to perfection" The strange man pinched her chin. "I see why he is so intrigued.'' He took a step back.

"Who? Jane replied, "What's going on?" she stammered.

''Ma cherie'' he said ''Please, come wiz me''

She stared at him. Was he mad? Was he out of his mind?

"Please let me go" Jane snatched her hand away. "I cannot speak to strangers, I have to go".

''Ma belle'' The man with the picture sighed his shoulders lifted and fell in exaggeration.

''You do not see what I see?'' He seemed confused.

Jane stared back. Her eyes were afraid.

''Please do no not be afraid Ma Belle"' He saw the look in her eyes. "Please take this, it delights me to give you one''.

Jane stared at the invitation.

''The Ball?'' She asked. ''An invitation for me? Yes, my family are getting ready for this right now as we speak. I, however, was not invited.''

The man with the picture stared at her.

''Vaat!?'' He screeched. ''Everyone is invited! And above all you Ma Cherie''. He clicked his hands and immediately his assistants came climbing from the car.

Jane was spun and twirled and turned and measured from head to toe. Swirls and swirls of ivory material spun around her as she blew her hair out of her eye, as she was made to impress adorned in an exquisite Yves St Laurent design.

''Now you are ready Ma Cherie" Her new found friend cried.

'Now we must go' He said.

"Go where?" Jane cried, taken aback by the strange happenings that were taking place.

The Parisian man clicked his fingers and there she stood at the front doors of the Royal palace.

''Oh My!" Jane gasped. Her eyes had never seen such splendour. "I am at the ball?" She asked as she slowly walked in. "My eyes,'' she cried, ''and my chin, and my legs. I am all wrong. I am not one to be here!''

Her new friend clicked his tongue and gently pushed her forward.

''Silence, and stop the nonsense talk. Look over there" he pointed. Jane turned to see her reflection in the glass walls that adorned the palace. She gasped. She looked incredible. Her dress was of an ivory satin mixed with lace. Upon her head was a tiara and her hands wore long ivory gloves. On her shoes were perfectly fitted glass slippers.

She stared back at the reflection that could not possibly have been her.

"Why, all the mirrors at home" she stammered, "they make me look awful. How can this be me?"

"There is nothing, Ma belle" The man said tapping her softly on the nose "that a little hair and makeup cannot fix. Your beauty iz natural anyway, I did not have to do much".

He pushed her further on as he pointed to a man dressed in fine attire who stood staring at her amongst a crowd of beautifully dressed people.

"Go, he is waiting for you. Be sure to be back out here by 12 midnight" Her new friend whispered in her ear. "The car will be waiting for you outside".

"Please wait!" Jane cried out to him, but he had disappeared. She stood at the top of a majestic set of stairs covered in a deep red plush covering. She was aware that eyes were staring at her, as people whispered behind their hands as they watched her walk slowly down the stairs.

What on earth am I doing here, Jane thought to herself. Surely, off course, this must be a dream.

She stood face to face with the handsome young man who had been staring at her since she walked in. His face seemed familiar.

She muttered, and stumbled and turned to run away, but the one finely clothed held her in his grasp.

"I have seen you in the crowds" he whispered. "I was taken by your beauty. I even took your picture. It was at my request that you be here".

'Yes! It was you!' Jane exclaimed. 'I remember...the man with the camera." She thought of the picture her Parisian friend had been holding and that man that had taken the picture just yesterday in the market.

"You are a Prince?" Jane asked.

He laughed. "You do not know? Everyone knows".

Jane smiled, embarrassed and shook her head.

"Relax". The Prince smiled as he held her in his arms.

They danced, they twirled, she smiled, he smiled. People moved out of their way as the Prince lead Jane around the ball room.

"If this is a dream, I wish I may never wake up" she laughed.

"This is not a dream" The Prince replied. He looked at her knowing he would never forget her laugh.

She was startled to hear the chime of the Palace clock as it struck midnight.

''Oh, I must go!'' Jane cried. ''I lost track of time!''. She pulled away from the prince and turned and ran. She ran and ran, weaving through the crowd.

''I must hurry!'' She sobbed.

She tripped and stumbled as her shoe fell off. She did not even try to reach for it, she knew there was no time. She did not see the Prince run after, only to be left standing holding her shoe in his hand.

''Ma Cherie'' Her Parisian friend smiled at Jane as she ran inside the waiting car. ''You are just in time''. Jane looked down at her dirty brown dress and off white apron that now replaced her beautiful ivory dress. She touched her hair, to find the tiara gone and her hair back in it's usual messy bun.The car drove off and dropped her back at the alley exactly where she had been met.


Jane was in bed as her Stepmother and Stepsisters waltzed in. Her heart was racing. It hadn't taken her long to run the short distance from the alley back home.

''The ball was amazing'' One stepsister said. ''But who was that thing that dared to dance with the Prince in that way?''

"Yes how dare she!'' their Mother replied. "Ugly good for nothing, and the way she just ran off suddenly, you would have thought she had an appointment with death!".

"Mother" the youngest daughter replied. "You know she was not ugly. She was the beautifulest woman at the ball!".

"You dare to contradict me?!" Her mother yelled. "Not one of you even got close enough to dance with the Prince, what chance would you have now? Instead you stood sniveling and giggling like little feeble school girls the moment he passed by as you let someone else take what belongs to you!"

"Mother, we're sorry" they both replied.

"Enough!" She cut them off. "Just get to bed!"


"You fool!" The Prince cried to his assistant.

''How could you have met with the one I was seeking after, yet you never found out her name or where she lives?"

"I am sorry Sir" His Parisian right hand man bowed his head low. "I made a big miztake".

"Indeed you did" The Prince replied sharply, aggravated and frustrated. "But I have a plan.'' he said as he held a glass slipper in his hand. ''I know what will lead me back to my true maiden. Here is what we will do...."


Thursday, 28 April 2011

Happy Anniversary!

A regular visitor to this blog reminded me only today, that it has been a year today since All Day Everyday Talk has been up and running - I myself was unaware! I am so thankful that I have managed to sustain regular blog's since it's birth, with the exception of some temporary silent periods.

I remember pondering with a work colleague whether there would be any point writing a blog, what would the purpose be? The aim was just to write my thoughts down on electronic paper, and along the way stories and anecdotes emerged. I am glad to say that I have had many positive feedback about the blog, and so I am assured that many have been blessed, and have enjoyed!

I am thankful to everyone that has visited this blog and commented on various pieces giving insight along the way, whether your presence was accidental, or purposeful, I hope that you will continue to visit!

Thank you to Gospel Girl, Jaycee and Isi for being regular visitors, your comments and insight has been much appreciated!

Happy Birthday to All Day Everyday Talk!

Miss Dramani

Thursday, 31 March 2011


I love puzzles. Gets the brain going, keeps it alive - Crosswords, arrow-words, word-searches, codewords...all great brain exercisers.

Then comes along....Sudoku.

I hated the sight of the square grid with random numbers placed here and there, some with explanations of how to solve the puzzle, some without.

I found it confusing, aimless and didn't understand what the newly founded love amongst many was. I took a look, dismissed it, and forgot about it. I can say, the reason for this approach was because I was used to the conventional crossword, word search puzzle I was used to.

Sudoku was new, and I didn't want to embrace the new.

Then one day, this puzzle box of randomly placed numbers began to pop up everywhere and anywhere I seemed to look...I even had a dream about it! I decided to give this little block of logic a go. I chewed my pen tip, scratched my head, fiddled with the numbers, and before you know it - hey - the numbers all worked out. (It also helped that I decided to this time round read the explanation of how to solve it). Each row with its own number, and each square with its own. I did it! I had cracked the game I had detested, and found that I actually .....liked it, and I could attempt to solve the puzzle and come out on top.

What had I done differently to be able to master the quiz, when initially I thought it was impossible? I decided to tackle it from another angle. Instead of looking at this puzzle as the big picture, I decided to delve into the individual boxes and tackle the smaller numbers first. a pattern began to emerge and from taking it piece by piece, the bigger picture evolved until it all made...sense.

That's how it is with life. We are presented with an issue/opportunity/goal/target, which at first, we take a glance and dismiss it with a nose up in the air and a furrow of the brow. We look at what is before us and label it as one to go in the 'I don't like/hate pile'.

What tends to happen though, is when we do not attempt to tackle what is before us, we can find that we may sometimes miss out on what was a 'puzzle' that could be solved, a goal that could be reached, a target to be met...a blessing in disguise.

Now, though I may not label Sudoku as a 'blessing' it made me think about the way I viewed certain things and my approach and often dismissive air to what seemed initially impossible. Things that God may bring our way that doesn't seem to make sense at first, with His help - we are able to tackle it and conquer it! I realised with mind control and concentration - what seemed confusing and impossible, with trial and often error and greater input and effort would eventually bring about a possible situation that was clear in its entirety.

Don't give up on what seems impossible, confusing and more hassle than it's worth, dismissing it as being not worthy of a cause. Sometimes the gems are found in the toil and labour of working and attempting what seems impossible. You may find that the cause could actually bring about a great and positive effect.

This is a very small and random analogy, but use it in bigger and more important areas...things may begin to make a little more...sense.

Matthew 19:26
With God, all things are possible.

Thursday, 17 March 2011

What Matters The Most

She sat across from the panel of interviewers ready and eager. She knew this job was hers, she had it in the bag.

On the day of her interview she had woken up late. The morning was a rush to get ready as she ran out of the door. She was sure to dress to impress and look the part.

She tapped her exquisitely Manolo Blahnik adorned french manicured feet on the floor as she stood at the bus stop and took out a piece of paper from her bag as she began to read:

Please be prepared there will be a test, and be sure to bring your best.

She had spent the night before trying to cram, revise, everything and anything that could possibly help with this interview - but she knew she would win them over.

On the journey, it had been a trial. She hurried along on 3 inch heels, as her steps made a staccato beat.

''Excuse me miss, can you spare some change so I can get a bite to eat?''

She barely glanced at the childlike figure covered in a dirty sleeping bag with a dog by her side as she continued on her way. She snarled at the figure as the dog ran after her barking and tugging at the corner of her coat. It managed to run off with a shred of her jacket in it's mouth.

''Damn!'' She exclaimed.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she saw a pigeon swooping down in perfect aim for her. She ducked, but didn't miss the little package it dropped on the top of her head. She squealed in disgust as she reached for her tissues to wipe the bird mess off from her what was now, a less than delightful messy coiffure.

She fluffed her coat down and smoothed out her hair, sighing with exasperation when she finally saw the approaching bus. She pushed away the elderly woman who had stood by her side and clambered on the bus ahead of all those waiting.

''You sure took your time'' she grimaced at the bus driver as she touched in her Oyster and walked onto the bus. She turned her head away from the look of an old man as she took the last remaining seat.

She was dressed to impressed, she had even bought new clothes just for the day. Crisp white shirt, black skirt and a beautifully fitted jacket, and off course the Manolo Blahnik shoes that had to be hers,those which had cost her a fortune... all of which she would return the moment after the interview. This was a job that she wanted and knew it would be hers. After all the job description had been so vague she would be sure to fit. The details had simply asked for somebody who was able to respond and react in an efficient manner tending to the needs of others. She knew she had it.

She reached to ring the bell as the bus approached her stop. As she made a move to rise, she heard a rip, and looked down to realise that she had sat on a loose metal spring on her seat. It ripped through her jacket, her skirt and caught some of her leg leaving a ladder in her tights and a small pool of blood to follow. She turned to see the old woman she had pushed past gingerly walk to the exit from her standing position by the window. She stepped off the bus ahead of the old woman as the doors opened leaving someone else behind to help the old woman with her walker.

She strode, a little less confident and a little less full of exuberant expectancy. She didn't see the pothole in front of her as she tripped on a loose paving stone and snapped the heel off one of her beloved shoes.

She half hopped, half walked into her desired destination and sat waiting in the foyer and took a glance at her watch. 2.30pm. The interview was scheduled for 1.50pm and she had reached there early despite waking up late and all the mishaps. She glanced at a pretty young lady sitting next to her and sighed.

''At the rate this is going this job is not worth it'' she said.

She sat across from the interviewers. Eyes focused on the panel and ready to answer each question.

''I feel that being someone who likes to meet the needs of others before myself is a great reason why I would be an asset to your company'' she answered to the first question smoothing down her wayward hair.

''I also like to keep in mind that there are others that are less fortunate than myself and I do my best to help them''. She replied again as she uncrossed her legs and tried to hide the disaster of her shoes.

''We relayed that there would be a test''. One of the panel said with a raised eyebrow. ''Please dim the lights as we play the video'.

The lights dimmed, and a large screen descended from the ceiling in front. Images of her were played as she walked past the homeless girl asking for money. The images showed her pushing past an old woman struggling to get on the bus, her grimace at the bus driver. There she was taking a seat when an old man stood beside her with a walking cane. Again she was seen pushing the old lady away as she stepped off the bus.

She stared, her eyes as wide as if a deer caught in headlights.

''I - I can explain'' she stammered to the panel.

''No need'' they replied.

''See, I was the girl with the blanket in the cold in need'' said one of the panelist interviewer as she stood and wrapped an old dirty cloth around her.

''And I was the old woman at the bus stop' said the other panelist as she donned a wig and glasses.

''I was the old man'' said the third panelist as he walked over to her with his walking cane, and a grey toupee on his head.

''And I was the lady who you told this job wasn't worth the wait'' said the pretty lady that had been sitting out in the foyer. ''My name is Suya. I am the owner of this company''. Suya raised her brows at her interviewees ruffled hair, torn clothes and her broken shoe. She sniffed the air as she smelt a whiff coming from her.

"I also work as the Area Manager of the store in which you bought those now not so lovely shoes and outfit'' Suya continued.

''I remember you now because you spent so lavishly. Be sure to know that any refund you thought of trying to claim for will not be given."

She wiped her hair as she cursed that dreadful pigeon in her head, and her broken shoes.

''Any questions?'' the panel asked in unison.

''yeah'' She tearfully replied. ''who was the bus driver?''.


That which is most important to others may be what we always tend to overlook in the face of reaching what is most important to us. And who one may seem to be who they are, is not always the case...

Friday, 18 February 2011

Welcome Home!

Doors of the aircraft open, and the heat threatens to consume and wrap itself around you like a hot baby chicken roasting in an oven. The night lights flicker from a distance, and the air seems still and heavy, yet sweet and inviting. The smell of the earth and soil is heightened by the temperature, eyes closed, simply relishing.

I take a look back to smile that knowing, deep, insatiable smile of 'we have arrived' at the family that accompanied me along the way, relishing all that is around me before I take a step off the jumbo jet. They who accompany me ruin my moment as they push me forward in their own anticipation followed by acrimonious yells of ''Hurry up, and get off, idiot! What are you doing?''. I narrowly avoid broken limbs and manage to exit the open air metal steps descending to the floor heels click clocking unsteadily from the rough departure.

Humph! How so unlike a lady-like dis-embarkation (if there is ever such a word) from a plane, how so unlike the likes of a first lady on the arm of a president as you so often see gliding down the open air steps. Good thing I'm no first lady, and even better that there wasn't a president nearby...

Winter 2009 brings back some memories. A time, where this trip was absolutely, totally, with no doubt called for. With an unsavoury upheaval and a glitch in the daily life continuity, Shofars blew, trumpets horned and off course, spur of the moment by unconventional means, tickets were paid for and flights confirmed. Sulking at the fact that I was way below luggage allowance and thinking of the accessories that had been left behind and forgetting the not so needed many that had been brought along, it was an upward and onward journey.

Taking in every single thing that the eye could see. The brightly lit lights of an approaching beautiful African land from an air born window seat. The sun setting as plane touched down. Many people sweating profusely under the heat. Duh! Hadn't they sussed it out? Wear the much needed polo-neck with a vest underneath upon departure to fight off the cold chilly air. Fling off the no longer needed polo neck upon arrival to reveal the much needed ventilation of said vest as well as modesty still in tact! From the slow ride on the bus from terminal exit to airport arrival, and the glances at my fam with big old polo necks on - my giggles are stifled under my boarding pass used as a fan to mirror the actions of those much less accustomed to the temperature. Dare I mention I gained a swot upside the head from the victims of my giggles. Hmmm.

Luggage and all necessities in tow, we trail after the aunties, cousins and uncles who so kindly meet us at our arrival point, with hugs and kisses followed by coos of ''oooh, look how you've grown'' as they inspect you up and down and side to side. Customs wave us past with not even an inclination to look into our luggage - what luck! At least I wouldn't have to explain the need for packing an outfit for each day...and shoes for every day and evening...hey, I was planning to give some away!! :/

Everything in tact, everyone off the plane, shiny foreheads and white gleaming smiles, dust in between the sandals and toes... oh yes, prepared was I. Sandals were happily resting in my hand luggage patiently waiting to be finely fitted in place of hot sweaty boots that had been on too long. We lumber suitcases and luggage into the cars to take us to our various destinations. The air con on, windows wound up, hi life on the radio, bliss. Then!...The car halts in a sudden movement as car horns blare.

The driver winds down the window, as car horns toot behind him angrily. He shouts at the one that caused the obstruction.

'I will break your head with a stone, oh! Did you even earn your drivers license you imbecile with monkey ears!!'

The smells of Tilapia and Banku, Jellof rice and Kenkey fill the air and the happy lively music and banter of those having their own private street party ring through the air.

We continue after the momentary mishap and my heart simply screams...welcome home to Ghana!!

Sunday, 13 February 2011

The Man Who Saw Tomorrow

Phoenix hurried out of the office.

It was her lunch break. She wanted to catch a bite to eat as well as finish some errands that were long overdue.

She had a skip in her step. Life was good, everything was working out. She had a great job, her finances were in order, she had met a great man, and she had good friends to share all the good things that were happening to her with. And above all, God was good.

She walked on down the road, feeling confident and assured, then she was suddenly stopped by a stranger.

He wore a turban and seemed intimidating in his stature as he stood tall and lured over her. He sneered as his eyes pierced deeply into hers.

'God says you are going to travel soon' the stranger said, he gave her no chance to speak. 'Many good things are coming your way'.

Phoenix drew her eyes from his, and knew immediately, he was one of those that her friend had warned her about.

'As I was walking down the street' her friend had recalled, 'This man stopped me and began to tell me about things that were going to happen in my life. I listened long enough to know that he was spot on, but... I stopped him soon enough to know I didn't want to know anything else from him'.

Phoenix held up her palm to the stranger's face. Silently she meant 'talk to the hand but the face ain't listening'. He interpreted her sign in his own way and overall as being a 'no, and thank you'.

Phoenix carried on and went about her hourly endeavor, leaving the stranger behind.


Phoenix sat down with her head in her hands.

She had just returned from an amazing holiday in Colombia. She had been offered a promotion a year ago and the rise in pay meant she was able to save and be liberal with her ventures.

She held the letter she had just opened and read, and couldn't believe it.

''Due to economical reasons, your post has been deleted. Please feel free for a right to appeal.''

Phoenix threw the letter across the room.

This couldn't be happening to her. She had just endured a period of ''we need to go on a break'' courtesy of her live in boyfriend right after her return from Columbia, and as a result she was living in a bedsit until she found better accommodation. And now, now she had lost her job!!

She got dressed and made her way into the office. She would continue until her time had reached for her to depart as well as sort out her legal rights.

So much to do, and so little time. Phoenix was stressed out.

She made her ritual of leaving the office for fresh air for and a bite to eat.

She walked down the familiar path, her heavy steps held less insouciance as previously, when suddenly she was met with a familiar stranger.

He had the same turban and the same demeaning stature as he stood tall over her. He had the same piercing eyes.

'God says You are going through some tough times, and you are in need' The stranger said.

Phoenix paused. How strange, she thought, that she had met with the same man again a few years later.

How strange, she thought again, that he was right the second time too.

He was right the last time and he was right this time.

Only the last time, Phoenix did not have a reason to listen to him. She had God then. But what good was God to her now. This time, her life was in disarray, she was in desperate need of knowing where she was to go next, where her life was headed. God was silent in her requests, He wouldn't answer so quickly.

But this man...this man would...

'Please, tell me more Phoenix said as she pulled out a satisfiable amount of money and placed it into the stranger's open and beckoning hand.

"And The Lord said to me: "The prophets are prophesying lies in My Name; I did not send them, nor did I command them or speak to them. They are prophesying to you a lying vision, worthless divination, and the deceit of their own minds."

Jeremiah 14:14