Entry 52- When Someone Asks: “Won’t You Eat? Are You Fasting?”

Let’s be honest, if you’ve ever been fasting, you know that one person who will look at your untouched plate and say loudly, “Ah, won’t you eat? Are you fasting?” And somehow, they ask at the exact moment when your stomach has chosen to audition for a percussion band.

In those moments, you might feel a mix of pride (“Yes, I’m fasting!”) and a tiny hint of awkwardness (“Now the whole table knows…”). But Jesus had a very specific way He wanted us to respond to fasting and it wasn’t through public announcements or facial expressions that scream “I’m suffering for the Lord.”

In Matthew 6:16–18, Jesus says:

“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

What does that mean in everyday life?

It means when you’re fasting, you still smile. You still laugh at jokes. You still walk into the lunchroom without giving a dramatic sigh. If someone asks why you’re not eating, you don’t have to announce your spiritual discipline like you’re breaking news. You can simply say, “I’m good, thanks,” or “I’ll eat later.”

Imagine you’re at work and the cake for Ekua’s birthday is making its rounds. You’re on day two of your fast. Instead of saying, “Oh, I wish I could, but I’m fasting,” with a martyr’s tone, you can politely decline and keep your peace. That’s because your fasting is between you and God- not between you, God, and the entire office WhatsApp group.

This doesn’t mean you should lie. It simply means you should protect the intimacy of your time with God. Just as you wouldn’t broadcast a private conversation with a loved one, your fast is a personal offering. God values the quiet sacrifice just as much, if not more, than the loud declaration.

And here’s the beautiful thing: the reward is not from people. People might clap, admire your “discipline,” or even feel inspired, but the true blessing, breakthrough and spiritual intimacy come from God Himself.

Dear God, help me to keep my fasting and other acts of devotion between You and me. Teach me to walk in joy, even in sacrifice, and to guard my intimacy with You. May my heart be more focused on pleasing You than impressing people.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 51- Dear God, Thank You

Some days it’s not the big miracles that leave me in awe, it’s the little ones. The things I would’ve missed if I didn’t pause.

Like the way I always seem to find parking on days I’m running late (even though I never learn my lesson 😅).

Or how I ran into an old friend on a day I needed a reminder that I’m not alone.

Or that moment the electricity came back just before I was about to step into the shower. ECG, I see you.

Sometimes gratitude doesn’t come in loud praise, but in a whisper, a smile, a breath. A deep sigh that says, “Dear God, thank You.”

Zachariah 4:10 ( NIV) “Who dares despise the day of small things, since the seven eyes of the Lord that range throughout the earth will rejoice when they see the chosen capstone in the hand of Zerubbabel?”

It’s easy to thank God for the big breakthroughs- the job, the healing, the open door. But lately, I’ve been learning to say thank You for the little, quiet things. The things that remind me that He’s near. That He sees. That He cares.in…” –

I don’t want to be someone who only praises God when the mountain moves.

I want to be the kind of daughter who notices her Father in the sunrise, in the kind stranger, in the unexpected moment of peace when my mind finally slows down.

I want to be found thankful- even when things feel repetitive or slow or delayed.

Because the truth is, even in the routine, He’s doing something.

Thessalonians 5:18 (NIV) “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

So, here’s to the little things:

A glass of chilled water.

A song that lifts your spirit.

A moment of laughter in a hard week.

A delay that protected you.

A verse that spoke right to your heart.

The more I notice, the more I give thanks.

The more I give thanks, the more I realize… I’m already surrounded by blessings.

Lord, thank You for the small things- the ones I overlook, the ones I forget to mention.

Open my eyes to see You in the everyday.

Remind me that You’re not just the God of breakthroughs but the God of breath and being.

Help me to live with a heart that notices and gives thanks.

Amen.

Entry 50- Grateful Heart

How many of you have looked back on life and realised just how much God has done for you?

Not in the loud, dramatic ways — but in the quiet, consistent, faithful ones.

Sometimes I catch myself mid-thought and just go, “Wait… I really survived that?”
The pain I thought would drown me.
The heartbreak I almost signed up for.
The version of me that was so unsure, yet kept smiling anyway.

There were seasons I almost settled.
Almost said yes to people and things that didn’t carry God’s breath.
Almost married into disappointment and heartbreak.
Almost walked away from purpose because fear felt more familiar than faith.

But I didn’t.
Not because I’m strong.
But because God- rich in mercy- pulled me back, redirected me, and loved me into wisdom.

“If it had not been the Lord who was on our side…”
Psalm 124:1

Sometimes I laugh when I think about my past.
Not because it was funny, but because of how good God has been in redeeming it.
I look back and see moments where I was kicking and screaming, trying to make things work that God had already shut down.
Where I was praying for clarity but already knew the answer, I just didn’t like it.
Where I wanted God’s will… as long as it looked like my plan.

But still, He stayed.
He kept.
He covered.
He whispered, “Rest, daughter. I’ve already gone ahead of you.”

Looking back reminds me that even in the confusion, I was never alone.
Even when I felt forgotten, I was being formed.
Even when I was waiting, He was working.

And now?
Now I’m tearing down walls.
I’m letting people in again.
I’m getting to know others from a healed place.
I’m becoming- slowly and boldly the woman God always saw, even when I couldn’t see her myself.

“You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head.”
Psalm 139:5 (NLT)

And I just want to say: thank You, Lord.
For not giving up on me when I almost gave up on myself.
For the “almosts” that didn’t happen.
For the “what ifs” that stayed closed doors.
For the peace I now carry- not because everything’s perfect, but because You’ve been present.

So this is for the girl who’s still in it.
Still in the wait.
Still unsure.
Still praying for a sign.

Let my life be your reminder:
God really does come through.
He really does keep His promises.
He really does write better stories than the ones we try to force.

Breathe.
Look back- not in regret, but in remembrance.
And then move forward, knowing that if God was faithful back then, He’ll be faithful again.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…”
Psalm 23:6

And it’s not over yet.

Lord, thank You for being the God of my past, present, and future.

For the “almosts” that didn’t happen, for the “what ifs” that never came to pass, and for the moments You saved me- even when I didn’t know I needed saving.
Thank You for the quiet ways You’ve been working behind the scenes.
Help me to keep trusting You in the waiting, in the wondering, and even in the weariness.
May I always look back and see Your fingerprints.
And may I always move forward knowing You go before me.
Amen.

Entry 49- Still waiting… & that’s okay.

I’m currently in the wait.

Waiting for promises to be fulfilled.

Waiting for prayers to be answered.

Waiting for things to finally make sense and honestly, it isn’t glamorous.

Nobody posts about the wait unless it’s accompanied by a dramatic “glow-up” reveal. You know the ones- “I waited, I prayed, I trusted God, and now look what He did!”

We rarely see the raw middle part- where you’re staring at your life like:

“God, this doesn’t look anything like the prophecy.”

I’ve had those moments where it almost worked out.

I’ve had conversations that felt like divine alignment, only for them to end with a text that read: “it’s not you, it’s me”

I’ve interviewed for opportunities I knew I was qualified for, doors that cracked open just enough to let hope in, only to slam shut without explanation.

I’ve gotten excited, prayed hard, and planned ahead… only for God to say, “Not this one.” And if I’m honest, that almost is sometimes harder than a flat-out no.

You finally start opening up to someone, only for them to ghost you when it got real.

You’re shortlisted for the job, but they go with “someone more experienced.”

You’re preparing for the new apartment, but the rent shoots up out of nowhere.

You think the idea is from God, but the timing- or the team- isn’t.

You forgave your ex and thought reconciliation was coming, but God was using closure, not a comeback.

Can we be real? The longer you wait, the more tempting it is to settle.

To lower the bar.

To accept “at least it’s something” instead of “this is from God.”

But the wait isn’t wasted time.

It’s testing. It’s stretching. It’s preparation.

The enemy loves to whisper, “If it hasn’t happened yet, maybe it never will.” But faith says, “If it hasn’t happened yet, God’s not done.”

Abraham and Sarah almost gave up, but Isaac came right on time.

David was anointed king but had to dodge spears before he ever saw a crown.

Jesus was overlooked in His hometown; but that didn’t cancel His calling.

Almosts don’t cancel destiny. Delays don’t delete promises.
Waiting doesn’t mean you’re forgotten. It means God is still working behind the scenes.

Peace isn’t just the fruit of answered prayers. Sometimes it’s what you get when you surrender your expectations.

Healing happens in the waiting room- not just from heartbreak, but from the idolatry that forms when you want the thing more than you want Him.

I used to cry over people I thought were my future. I used to beg God to bring back things I now thank Him for not giving me.

That apartment would’ve buried me in debt.

That man would’ve drained my spirit.

That job would’ve kept me far from purpose.

Your “almost” was also God’s “I love you too much to let you settle.”

You are not behind.

You are not forgotten.

You are in the waiting room of a God who never delays without reason.

And one day soon, you’ll look back and say:

“I almost settled, but thank God I waited.”

Dear God,

You see the things I almost had.

You know the dreams I’ve buried, the texts I never got, the prayers that haven’t been answered.

Thank You for holding me in the in-between.

Help me trust Your “no” and “not yet” as much as I trust Your “yes.”

I want what You want for me, even when it takes longer than I expected.

Teach me to wait well—with hope, with joy, with expectancy.

And when it finally comes, remind me that You were with me all along.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 48- “Did You Say That, God?”

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”

John 10:27 (NIV)

Let’s be honest: sometimes we think we’ve heard from God, only to realise later we heard our own excitement, anxiety, or assumptions echoing back at us.

Like that time I was sure God said to take that opportunity- only to find out He hadn’t said take it, He had said take your time. *such a face to palm moment*

Or that time I thought a person in my life was “sent from God,” but really, they were just sent from social media. (Hey, the algorithm is loud too!)

We often want God's voice to be like thunder- clear, loud, and unmistakable. But most of the time, it's more like the gentle nudge you feel not to send that message, or the subtle tug when you're about to walk into a place you don't belong.

Think of Elijah in 1 Kings 19. He didn’t hear God in the wind, fire, or earthquake. God came in a still, small voice. If you’re always looking for lightning bolts, you might miss the whisper in your spirit.

One morning, I was driving to work on autopilot. I heard a soft prompting in my spirit: “Take the longer route.” No thunder, no angel appearing on my dashboard, just a nudge. I almost ignored it—because who has time for traffic?

But I listened.

Later, I found out there had been an accident on the regular route I usually took—right around the time I would’ve been there. Sometimes, God's guidance looks like inconvenience. And that’s when discernment matters most.

Let’s clear this up: God still speaks. The problem is that we often can’t hear Him clearly because we’re too crowded—by noise, distractions, pressure, and fear.

It’s hard to hear God’s whisper when we’re drowning in other voices:

• The voice of comparison.

• The voice of self-doubt.

• The voice of the group chat.

• The voice of your own overthinking.

Clarity comes when we pause, pray, and position ourselves to listen. It’s not about perfection—it’s about proximity.

Signs You’re Hearing God’s Voice

1. It aligns with Scripture – God will not contradict His Word.

2. It brings peace, not pressure – Even when the message is challenging, there's a holy peace that accompanies it.

3. It’s consistent – You may hear the same word, scripture, or prompting through different sources (your devotion, a sermon, even a random stranger).

4. It leads to growth – God’s voice challenges us, but never condemns. Conviction, not confusion.

Be honest: When was the last time you sat in silence with God, not talking, just listening?

Sometimes, we want answers in our 5-minute prayers, but God wants relationship, not transactions. He’s not a vending machine. He's a loving Father.

And if you’re in a season where He’s quiet, maybe He’s training your ears- not punishing your faith.

I need YOU to remember that sometimes, clarity isn’t about a voice- it’s about a verse. Open your Bible. The guidance is in there. God still speaks... we just have to slow down and really listen.

Dear Lord, 

Tune my ears to Your frequency. Let Your whisper be louder than the world’s noise. I don’t just want to follow my feelings—I want to follow Your leading.

Where I’ve been confused, bring clarity. Where I’ve been hasty, teach me patience. Help me to discern Your voice above all others.
And when I’m unsure, remind me that even in silence, You are still speaking through Your Word, Your Spirit, and Your peace.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 47- President of the Soft Life

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.”- Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)

Over the weekend, I was at my mum’s and we stumbled into a memory lane detour. She laughed and said, “Do you remember when you said you’d be president one day?”

I didn’t- also why would I willingly go into politics? Yuck!

But apparently, I wasn’t just saying it, when I said it then, I was seeing it.

I drew a picture of myself in a limousine, presidential and proud. And do you know what she did with that drawing? She hung it in her office. Her colleagues would see it daily. And to this day, years later, they still ask,

“How is our president doing?”

I told her to say, “She’s the president of the soft life now.”, the next time they asked.

And just like that, the Holy Spirit reminded me- there’s more purpose in that than we think.
As kids, we dream big without hesitation. Want to be a chef today and a veterinarian tomorrow? Done. No limitations, just vibes. But as adults, life gives us detours, disappointments, and sometimes delays that shrink our dreaming capacity. We begin to associate success with hustle, pain, or proving ourselves.

But God doesn’t operate like that.

Yes, the drawing said “President.”

But the calling was leadership.

The heart behind the dream was impact.

And just because I’m not behind a podium or seated at the Flagstaff House doesn’t mean I’m not walking in purpose.

What Is the Soft Life, Really?

Let’s redefine this. The soft life isn’t about laziness or lounging all day while quoting Scriptures about rest. It’s about divine ease. It’s about trusting God so deeply that we no longer have to grind ourselves into exhaustion to feel worthy.

It’s Matthew 11:28-30 personified:

Soft life = kingdom life.

It’s knowing that peace is our portion, rest is our rhythm, and abundance comes through Gods alignment, not anxiety.

You may not be leading a nation, but maybe you’re:

1. Leading a home filled with love and healing.
2. Leading a small team with integrity in a chaotic work culture.
3. Leading a healing journey no one claps for.
4. Leading your own life out of trauma, doubt, and fear into wholeness.
   

And that counts. God sees it. And heaven celebrates it.

Don’t let the enemy convince you that if the dream didn’t happen the way you saw it at 8 years old, it didn’t happen at all. Purpose evolves. And God’s plan always includes room for redirection.

I may not be the president of a nation, but I am the:

1. President of Peace in my circle.
2. President of Softness in a world that’s gone hard.
3. President of Healing in my family line.

You’re still leading. You’re still purposed. You’re still chosen.

1. What childhood dream have I abandoned that may still be alive in a new form?
2. What does the “soft life” look like in my current season?
3. Where have I been called to lead quietly, without applause or public acknowledgment?

Dear God,

Thank You for reminding me that purpose doesn’t expire. Even when the path looks different, Your plan is still in motion. Help me walk in divine ease, not human pressure.

Let me lead with grace, joy, and the confidence that I am exactly where You’ve placed me.Teach me to enjoy the softness You’ve called me to—not as weakness, but as a strength rooted in trust.

And when I forget who I am, remind me that You still call me masterpiece, still call me daughter, still call me chosen.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Entry 46- "IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!" (Even When It’s Not)

"IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!"

I shout this out at least twice a day- knowing very well it isn't my birthday.

I know people find it strange, maybe even a little childish. And that’s fine, because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

You see, birthdays were (and still are) a big deal to me. Coming from a home that celebrated them, every year- no matter how big or little the celebration was- I always associated birthdays with joy, attention, hugs, cake, and a deep sense of being seen. That one day felt like the world stopped just to say, “You matter.” So now, even as an adult, I carry that childlike celebration in my spirit—and I let it spill over into every day I’m blessed to wake up.

It’s that child-likeness that keeps me grounded. It reminds me to appreciate the very little things. Like a good laugh. A warm meal. A text from a friend. Or a breeze that comes just when you need it.

Jesus Himself said in Matthew 18:3, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

That childlike joy? It’s not immaturity. It’s worship. It’s choosing to marvel at the simple fact that you woke up and there’s still purpose in your lungs. That God hasn’t forgotten you. That you're deeply loved—no matter what the calendar says.

James 1:17 reminds us: “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights…” So yes, if I want to call today my birthday, I will. Because today is a gift. Every day is. And we don’t have to wait for candles and balloons to say thank You, God, for me.

So, the next time you hear me shout “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” just know—I’m living out loud in gratitude. I’m choosing joy. I’m staying in awe of the daily miracles. I’m practicing childlike faith in a grown-up world.

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the gift of life—every breath, every heartbeat, every moment.
Help me to never lose my childlike wonder.
Teach me to celebrate the ordinary and find joy in the mundane.
May I always see myself through Your eyes: treasured, celebrated, and chosen.
Let my life be a song of joy and thanksgiving.
And on the days I forget how far You’ve brought me, remind me—gently—that every day is worth shouting about.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.