Happy Easter-Jesus’ (Com)passion

The real story of Christ’s death abd resurrection can be found in the Bible. From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible talks about Jesus, who is God, and explains all of the questions that we have concerning who God is and what sort of relationship He desires with man. From what I read in the Bible and what I experience in my life today, I am certain that God is a loving God not a big-eyed judgey person that I was raised to be afraid of and run away from. The death and resurrection of Jesus(the real reason for Easter not the bunnies or eggs; -) ) happened to restore the Father-daughter, Groom-Bride relationship that God desires with me and had been marred by the existence of sin. Jesus overcame sin and death.
I’ll write more on the subject in another post but for now here’s a piece I wrote in 2011 based on the Biblical story of Christ’s crucifixion. (For more on the story, read the book of John in the Bible)

JESUS'(COM)PASSION
He could barely put one foot infront of the other as he dragged himself up the hill. He walked, his back stooped, the wood digging deeper into his open skin with each step. His breath was coming in short gasps as he tried not to faint from the weight and the pain.
Oh the pain!
It was excruciating. It seemed to tear his whole being apart. The soldiers had hit it severely with a whip. He wanted to take off his clothes. It was too hot. He was starting to sweat. The salty drops of sweat mixed with blood which was all over His body and it caused his garments to cling onto Him, making the wounds even more painful. His back was torn. The soldiers’ whips strung with lead, had seen to that.
He looked up to the top of the hill- Golgotha. The Place of skull. A cold shiver went up his spine. Fear gripped him. He was afraid of what he knew was coming.
“Oh God, God have mercy,” He breathed. Perhaps it hurt even more because He was fully God and knew what was going to happen but fully man and therefore unable to escape the pain.

Finding myself (short fiction)

When she made the decision to clean out her things and call Seka, the cab driver, she didn’t make it lightly.
The problem had been developing over the year that they had been together. She’d pretended not to see the signs. Not to see herself slowly become a thing, slowly wither, but there comes a time when one must stop blaming the universe and take the reins of their own life.
‘Love your neighbour as you love yourself’ so the good book says. If she didn’t love herself enough to save her dignity then how could she love others? Did she deserve to be loved at all if she didn’t love herself?

Her mind wandered a bit. It was a cold evening and he’d want coffee when he got back. He’d want pastries with that. Out of habit, she’d baked some for him-cookies that he called snow flakes because they were white, small and soft. She imagined him munching them and smiled fondly.
She loved him.
Was it love though? She frowned.
Is that what love was?
Depending & clinging and not being able to breathe without another person? Was love like fear then?

She had tried leaving once before, no, twice it had been. Once she had even reached her sister’s home. The other time she, well, the other time she made the mistake of calling him to say goodbye and he’d talked her out of it.

Her sister said that she was crazy but her sister had always been so judgemental.”Why don’t you get off dating for awhile? ” she’d say or “Why don’t you settle down Beth?” And then she had moved in with Patrick. Gambling, charming, narcissistic oh so handsome Patrick. She had liked being with him; being needed,serving him, having someone want her, having someone at all.

He called her names and shouted in her face, he never touched her-he had sex with her but he never touched her, not affectionately, not like he used to.
It wasn’t the bruises on her body,or the two miscarriages that made her finally decide to leave… Patrick had taken something from her, broken something in her. She had looked at herself in the mirror and seen it. Death. She had died and not known it. Even though her family and friends had tried to get her out of this pit, in that moment she knew she was the only one who could revive herself. She’d be reborn.

Beep. Beep. Seka’s hooting startled her. She hoisted herself off the front steps and waddled to his car. Amara stirred. That’s what she was going to name her. Amara. Life.
At thirty six, hers was just beginning.

A House for Hannah (Part 3)- Kids and Pets

July 12, 2011 at 5:24pm

It’s been awhile since we visited the little house on Muger lane. Our friend Hannah has been growing and so has the warm family that looks after her. Of course it hasn’t been all smooth sailing. I mean having a puppy like Hannah is a bit like having your first baby.

Not real Hannah 😉

The Accident.

It was a weekday just like any other. Mum had to go to work, Jojo to school and Ali had to leave her room for a bit of sun, life and air. That day Kate stayed home alone with Hannah. And oh! what fun they had!

A House for Hannah (Part 2)- Kids and Pets

June 22, 2011 at 5:58pm

Hannah needs a house

”Jojo whalayou shtandin there for?” Ali asked yawning sleepily. She had been awakened by a certain noise in her room. On turning she saw Jojo standing in the middle of her room. As her eyes adjusted to the lamp’s light she realised that he was also carrying something in his hands. It moved and whimpered.

A House for Hannah (Part 1)- Kids and Pets

A house for Hannah is a series I wrote when my mother came back home one day with a pup. thought I’d share here with the rest of you. For lovers of kids, pets and short stories.