Oasis in the Desert; Miracles within!

 

Yesterday, I spent the day at home, immersed in domestic tasks—basically just tinkering around the house. It was a Monday, and I was home, kama kawaida. Why would anyone spend a Monday at home, you ask? Well, unlike many, my work involves dealing with people's problems and burdens daily. My to-do list rarely includes myself, which can be incredibly draining—mentally, emotionally, and physically. Mondays are my days for self-care, personal errands, and unwinding.

Most Mondays, I retreat to my farm in Kiserian. There, I tend to the garden, organize things around the house, or simply roam the serene surroundings. It’s an experience that soothes my soul, leaving me recharged and ready to tackle the world by Tuesday. Other times, I spend the day in bed, indulging in much-needed rest. I particularly love my bed in shags—it has a way of embracing me differently. I’ve also made it a point to avoid scheduling meetings on Mondays unless absolutely necessary, especially since I often extend my working days to late evenings on Saturdays, sometimes even Sundays.

This Monday was no different. I found myself decluttering the house, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of clothing we’ve accumulated—some barely worn or untouched. Isn’t it amazing how clutter mirrors our mental state? Sorting through the pile was best done with music blaring from the speakers. (I pity my neighbors—ha!) As I worked, I listened to a deeply moving piece by Israel Mbonyi on repeat. Occasionally, I would pause to reflect on the profound message carried by the lyrics.

My thoughts often turned to God’s faithfulness through all seasons of life. That song reminded me of the many beautiful things that transpired during my “dark season.” Reflecting on it now, it might seem contradictory to describe the beauty in that period of melancholy. To an outsider, it might not make sense. Mbonyi’s lyrics about experiencing countless miracles resonated deeply with me. In that season, the only thing real to me was putting one foot in front of the other, navigating uncertainty with no strength of my own—and yet, miracles surrounded me.

One memory stood out vividly as I sang along: the Zuri Awards 2023. The nominations, the awarding ceremony at Movenpick Hotel, and everything else that transpired that evening felt like a miracle. When I started the Birth and Beyond program, it wasn’t for the drumrolls or accolades. I was in a dark space where my mind had retreated within itself. The only thing that felt familiar was the journey I had begun three years earlier. When I couldn’t manage anything else, Birth and Beyond became my anchor.

The recognition by the Zuri Awards was such a blessing—an affirmation that something still worked, even in my darkest moments. It reminded me that, even at our lowest, God continues to work with and for us. It was simply amazing.

During my “alone time” on Monday, I kept recalling the events of that evening: the company of an incredible friend who footed all my bills for the night and kept me company, the amazing women I met, the stunning photos we took, and the valuable connections I made. I could only credit God for orchestrating it all.

Another miracle from that period was the growth experienced by the program: the impactful events we held, the hundreds of young mothers we reached, the food items distributed, and the partners we on boarded. Looking back, even I wouldn’t have guessed that storms were raging within me.

As the song’s lyrics echoed—“Si mara ya kwanza kunitoa katika hali…”—I marveled at how I navigated a period of deep melancholy while advocating for young mothers and their needs. It was nothing short of divine strength. The irony of it all struck me yet again.

So, allow me to address the queries I sense from some of my readers after sharing my previous chronicles. Even in the celebration of past victories, it’s imperative to unearth the deep struggles we all face in life. Someone once said, “If you’re not going through something, you’re either getting into something or recovering from something.” Storms are a consistent part of our humanity. The question I ask myself—and perhaps you should ask yourself too—is this: How shall the end find me? Standing? Defeated? Given up? Broken?

It’s up to you today to decide what you will do during that season. As for me, the only thing that worked was showing up for Birth and Beyond. And now, I pray that in this season, Birth and Beyond will show up for me.

Njeri.