Random Musings. . .by Kui Gathua

   “ Sometimes the hardest part of the journey is believing you’re worthy of the trip .” – Glenn Beck We all attach a value, a worth, a price to ourselves. What costing method have you used to come up with yours? Who has influenced your worth and can they be trusted to have given you an accurate value? Today I’m sharing a poem that had me thinking about what I consider my value and how I have come up with that value. . .and yes, I’m recalibrating. Never Trust A Mirror by Erin Hanson Never trust a mirror, For the mirror always lies, It makes you think that all your worth, Can be seen from the outside. Never trust a mirror, It only shows you skin deep, You can’t see how your eyelids flutter, When you’re drifting off to sleep, It doesn’t show you what he sees, When you’re only being you, Or how your eyes just light up, When you’re loving what you do, It doesn’t capture when you’re smiling, Where no one else can see, And your reflection can...

   “ Promises are like crying babies in a theatre, they should be carried out at once .” ~ Norman Vincent Peale Many moons ago, I was a Girl Scout, then a Ranger in high school. I wonder why I never proceeded to the ‘disciplined forces’. . .but that’s not what I’m musing about today. There use to be a phrase that we’d say if cornered or asked about one’s truthfulness – Scout’s honour – and mostly uttered while holding up the 3-finger salute. Scout’s honour refers to an oath that one is being honest, or will uphold a promise or duty. It a lludes to the oath taken by a member of the Scouting movement to be upstanding, trustworthy, and honest. So for example, someone asks if I’m being truthful about a situation and I respond “Scout’s honour” – I am basically saying it’s the whole truth and nothing but. I wonder how many people can use that phrase any more. Especially in this age of relative truth and mobile phone fuelled dishonesty. But this week I...

  “ The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain .”~Dolly Parton  I heard some rumbles one evening this week and ran out in excitement. Even the smell of rain was aromatic. Only a few drops of rain fell and then the clouds moved on. Sigh. Yes, it seems we are experiencing a drought of sorts in parts of Kenya this ‘should-have-been short rains’ season. Nairobi has been dry and dusty and thirsty for a few showers, even if it’s just one big shower a week. (May the Rain-Giver hear me please.) For once, I miss the cold and the grey mornings and my sweaters. It’s been hot for too long and my heart is crying out for a change. When was the last time your heart pined for something that was out of your control to give but you held out hope against all odds that heaven would soon hear you and send back a positive response? When did you last look up to the skies and see granite and like the Psalmist cry out “How long? Will I wait forever?” I watched a be...

“ Home isn’t where you’re from; it’s where you find light when all grows dark .” ~Pierce Brown Last week, Reuben Kigame – a Kenyan gospel musician – posted a reflection on his daughter’s upcoming album launch: The Lost Meaning of Home. In the article, he posted a series of questions that got me thinking deeply about what ‘home’ really means to me. o    When were you last at home? o    Where is home? o    Who was there? o    Why did you go? o    How did you feel? o    What did you do in that home? o         When are you going there again? He was referring to home, not a house. Not where you or your parents live. Home:   where the heart rests. Where do you call home? Has your heart ever felt like it arrived at a place? Is there somewhere you keep going back to, just to feel accepted and loved for who you are? Is it a place, a thing or a person? I once had a cat that was home to me ...