What’s your definition of romantic?
I mean you can send the front and back of your little credit card to me. That’s romance to me.
The Weight of Words
In the beginning was the word, God spoke everything into existence John 1:1. God knew that it would also be through words that He would communicate with humanity. Words are very powerful and what you say can cause great harm or do wonderful things for a person’s soul Proverbs 15:4 . I don’t want to make you sad but think about the awful words someone has ever said to you and think about the awesome things you have heard about yourself. I want you to think about the good things you have said to someone and lastly the awful words you said to someone.
Proverbs 18:21 states, “The tongue has the power of life and death.” Thus, words have the power to heal and the power to hurt. Maybe you have said awful words to yourself, we have just learnt the power of negative words. You might need to repent from that. And be kind to yourself because the words you speak become the house you live in.
Your words can be more healing than any kind of medicine. They can be more toxic than any kind of poison. They can ease the mind of its nagging questions. They can relieve a heart from its doubts. They can free a heart from the chains that keep it holding on and that make it fear letting go. They can spring hope into a deserted heart.
So, before you speak, ask yourself if your words are true, kind and neccesary
If they are not, rather keep quiet.
These are some heavy verses, and they don’t even scratch the surface. The Bible speaks heavily on this topic. It is clear that God’s plan for us is to be wise regarding the words we use.
Matthew 12:37
For by your words, you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.”
Proverbs 21:23
He who guards his mouth and tongue keeps his soul from distress.
Ecclesiastes 10:12-14
The words of a wise man’s mouth are gracious; but the lips of a fool will swallow up himself
Ephesians 4:29 states, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”
Colossians 4:6 says, “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.”
Cooking is my therapy, eating is my reward.
Daily writing prompt
Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.
If I cook for you know that I love you. I rarely cook for me because I hate eating by myself. I eat very fast and take so much time doing the dishes. See the annoying thing you prepare a meal for 2 hours, especially with African dishes and only eat for like 5 minutes. The equation isn’t balancing, right? You see this meal here, 
It took me 1 hour 30 minutes to prepare because Sadza has to kwata for like 30 minutes. I also do not mind preparing it for anyone I love.
P.O Box 840 Chegutu Selous
You might be wondering about the title. The first thing that came into my mind was the letters I used to receive from my best friend. We both learned at different boarding schools, so we used to write to each other. That was my school address, and it has stuck with me for the longest time. Let’s just say a lifetime because I don’t think I will forget it. Getting letters from her was delightful and the highlight of my boarding life.
Then there was my childhood. I grew up in the ghetto. We had phones but made from plastics and toy cars. We used to cook with open fire outside,Mahumbwe was the term for this whole set up. Yaa that was the last time I heard a functioning family and a husband that was so caring.
After school I would wait for my uncle or visit the community library, where I fell in love with reading. A collection of Goosebumps series and the Disney fairytales.
People used to visit each other, and album books were the source of entertainment. My granny used to tell us different tales some sad and some funny, but she always made sure there was a life lesson from each of the stories.
The late 90’s brought up a new life a fast one to be precise. My Dad had a Nokia 3310 and I remember playing ringtones and having so much fun from that. We are all familiar with the phrase, “do not reply I am giving back the phone” right? Good old days.
I also miss how we used to use our brains before the internet.
Your legacy is every life you have touched.
If we are to go with the title then I am on the right track. I sleep well at night knowing that one life has breathed easier because of me. I am a nurse, and I don’t remember most of my patients, but some of my patients remember me; they know me by my name, including the ones with Alzheimer’s.
I always say this, everyone you meet is fighting a silent battle. They might not show it. Just be kind. Show mercy. We don’t have to do much some people just want to be heard. It doesn’t cost much. I do not know how much time I am left with, but I hope that as I pass through I can make more lives breathe easier. I can make someone feel worthy and loved. From the strangers on the street to the people around me I hope I never fail them.
I ask God to bless me beyond measure. I want to be as generous as my resources will allow. And when my time on earth is up It will be my final plea. Let someone, somewhere think or say you have made a difference.
I was in the same room with Joe Thomas.
What was the last live performance you saw?
This is the last concert I went to. I had so much funny, nothing slaps like old school music. Unlocking the golden era feeling the Nostalgia in every beat. Then you remember that at some point in life you experienced love, so pure and so beautiful. Two hours straight I was lost in the melodies of the past.
Can I be a Judge for a day?
I want to be a judge so that I can thoroughly deal with drug dealers and rapists.
The ungodly hours
When do you feel most productive?
I took a nap around 3 pm, it was meant to be a power nap because my shift did a number on me today. I woke up at exactly 12 am. I might as well start observing the Liturgy of the Hours.
You can’t do much this time, I am hungry but it’s kinda late to make dinner and way too early for breakfast. I want to do laundry but I don’t want to wake my neighbours. I have this urge to put my life together, plan my May respond to my emails. I even want to go to the gym.
It’s like a switch flips and I go ultra productive. How can I transmute this into the day?
From small talks to deep conversations.
I want to talk about a lot of things. For starters why do people hate single mothers so much to the extent of calling them the W word. Except for those women that chose to just have children and not have a family. No one does anything in life expecting to fail. We are all hoping for the best that this life can give. That single mother you are insulting is a result of an irresponsible man who chose to leave and you are all dragging her for staying? Crayz huh? I also find it funny that “daddy issues” are an insult to women yet its the father that left. High time women become stingy with their wombs.
Do we have free will or everything predestined? My favourite documentary is the butterfly effect. We can’t debate that every single reality is a result of a past action. I always wonder what my life would have become if I was to be born in a different family .My parents sat down and decided to have a daughter and also decided to raise her in a God-fearingg way. But what if I was born into a different family would I be here blogging? Most probably I could have been married off young. Do we have the illusion off free will?
I want to talk about the women that falsely accuse men of rape. How do you live with yourself after that? How dark and evil is your heart? I think false rape accusers should suffer the same fate they intended for others. And to the man that commits rape may they castrate you.
Home
I am taken back by the quote, “to leave home is to break your own heart”.
I recently got back from home. It has been close to six years living in a foreign land. My body is here but my soul and mind are still in Zim. I am kind of finding it hard to adjust. Funny right? I find myself daydreaming about the beautiful moments I had. It was a short time, but every moment was beautiful including the fights with my little sister.
I remember talking to this guy telling him that bird tweets woke me up, unlike in German where your problems wake you up before the alarm. You have to be even grateful if you fall asleep. The weather was just constant and perfect every day. The sun cast a luminescent glow at night we had full moons and stars were remote pinpricks. Around 17:00 I would take the dogs for a walk; the last rays of sun skimmed the surface. Nothing brings me joy like watching the sun sinking towards the horizon, the pitiless white ball now an angry orange.
I said so much about the weather my greatest highlight was seeing my parents and my two siblings in good spirits and finally visiting my sisters resting place. I managed to visit most of my relatives, I was always on the road. On Sunday I went to church, it felt good seeing everyone. Singing Shona hymns and just hearing the sermon in your mother’s tongue. And to finally giving the testimony of Gods goodness in my life.
I went to the city one afternoon; nothing is crazier like walking down the streets of Harare. There is chatter between sellers and buyers, Hwindis spitting vulgar words like its normal. Its busy for sure but the hustle and bustle brings life to this city. I loved the vibe and energy. I had missed walking down the street without being stared at.
I might have left home but I carried the memories with me. Surely there is no place like home.
A public diary. 