Is it ever too much? personal
I must admit to you that there are days when I start out to pray and that little impish voice in me will say “but you thanked God for this same thing yesterday, so why should you bother him to thank him all over again?”
….And the wiser one in me tells me that “God is never tired of hearing my voice and that I should never forget that he inhabits my praise,” which I can assure you keeps the impish voice sulking in a dark corner and wondering what wise retort to come up with.
Unfortunately for the imp, it always falls short.
Yesterday was my son’s birthday which was also a school day, even though he’s of the opinion that such an important day should be spent eating cake and making merry – which is not a bad idea, however, we struck a good bargain – that boy can negotiate 😉
A bargain that he’ll go to school for classes as usual and also join his mates for their scheduled outing to Ski-Dubai, with the promise that we would have a birthday dinner in the evening and also take him to the theme park to play during the weekend.
For some reason, I wasn’t comfortable with the school outing and my niggling mind led me to pray with them and talk to him about being careful.
By mid-afternoon, the day was running smoothly until my phone rang and it was the school nurse. I detest getting such calls because it’s never something to jump up and down over.
The lady nearly gave me a heart attack! Her slow narration on how some other boy got a bit rough at play with my son and mistakenly hit him in the eye had me chewing my nails in angst. A riot of emotions ran through me. I felt like having bionic powers and hurtling off to the school to grab my child, but a little voice told me to keep calm and thank God.
In relief, I thanked God, for it could have been worse. Asides from a slight redness and puffiness which had gone down, he’s as beautiful as ever.
Which brings me to this point of my story.
Each new day is a present day, a new beginning and the fact that I thanked God yesterday for Grace, Mercy, Favour and hedge of protection over my family, should not make me not to thank him today and tomorrow and the next…
For we are told that when we commit our ways unto the Lord, our paths are established. There’s nothing like too much praise when it comes to the goodness of God.
I hope that there’s something that you are thankful for today.
You can join Colline’s or Maria Jansson gratitude challenge platforms.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.
When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.
Never leave me lonely
With words left unsaid
You walk away into the dark
Like a mist, that melts away.
Sal’s damp hands, pounding heart, and throbbing temple announced an impending migraine. She struggled to maintain elegant poise before polite company whose smiling faces got on her nerves.
Now and again she felt eyes rest on her in sympathy or surreptitious glances that feigned disinterest.
The champagne tasted like chilled piss and the food held no interest for her.
Here. Where it had all happened, her mind whirred back in painful rewind.
Here was their favourite place to celebrate. First date, proposal, engagement party and every milestone worth celebrating.
She wondered fleetingly how insensitive her sister could be. Of all the places to choose for an engagement party, it has to be Al Fonzi’s. She had contemplated not turning up, but felt it would cause more wagging tongues as she became fodder for dinner discussion, not as if she already wasn’t.
Here, held all the good memories until the ugly incident brought her life to a screeching nightmare.
Here, where Stanford chose to blow his brains across the dinner table in a horrific way.
The room got too claustrophobic, the laughter and music rushed at her as she stood to go to the ladies. Sal succumbed to the encroaching blackness in a dead faint.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Thank you, Graham, for the photo and Priceless Joy for hosting this charming platform where we unleash our stories
A Song Of The Taste Buds… Stream of consciousness Saturday
Food. Yes. It is one thing that we all partake of throughout our lives. It evokes a whole lot of good feelings and memories in most of us.
It is used to celebrate virtually every form of congregation known to man and as a former food business owner, it is a very profitable business, but also a slave master that requires so much work to produce a piece of delicacy that is consumed in a bite.
As though Linda is aware of my last night’s secrets of eating a little more helping from the buffet, with the prompt word ‘Food,’ I might as well confess and write the thoughts that I had when my eyes beheld the arrays of edible brilliance.
The Song Of My Taste Buds
The flowing fountain of chocolate
The decadent slices of creme brulee, creamy cakes and buttery cups of cream caramel
The offerings of fish dishes, pan-fried, battered, deep-fried baked or barbecued,
They all seemed, fluffy and delicious, asking for a taste.
Rice in such designs, from vegetable, to plain, to white, to curry, it’s all nice
The sauteed meats and the not so laughing cow
Giant shrimps and huge prawns with beady eyes,
The crabs claws looks set to give the fingers a pinch
The steam rising from the chaffing dishes,
Disseminating the flavourful aroma of dishes a plenty
Mashed potatoes to go with black pepper sauce
Artichokes, Mushrooms, Broccoli, Lettuce and so much more
Pot roast, meatloaf, clam chowders oh my
All the drool inducing platters
An orchestra to ravenous appetite
The soft music plays on as we rotate round the food circle
A bite, a sip of drink and laughter
The elation on the faces of the consumers, says it all
The conviviality in the air
Our senses all dancing to the beat of our stomach
And the siren call of the food platter.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha