FRIDAY HEAT: Who makes a better wife; a career woman or a housewife?

It's funny how young men of nowadays want a career woman as a wife instead of a housewife. They want assets not liabilities. The way they go about it sometimes makes it look like a non-career woman has no hope of getting hitched by any man.

Besides that, the social status and acceptance comes into play. The argument seem to be directed at the physical qualities of these two types of wives. Some men argued that lots of women today get married and when they become housewife ,they start eating recklessly,put on weight,and refuse to even dress to impress their men anymore. They'll rather dress to show of the prowess of their wardrobe off to their friends at funerals, church weddings, engagements. And the most painful fact is they use the marriage as their point of security to do all these,unlike a career woman who's conscious of a lot of things including but not limited to her clothing or outfit especially.

Sadly you can't just yab her and perhaps even kick her out when it gets to that point..lol

In essence, a career woman appeal more to the man than the housewife in her dressing.

Financially, the career woman seem to steal the spotlight again. She is independent and that's what most men in the society want. Miss independent. Someone who won't bring the extra burden, rather would help taking the burden off their shoulders.

However, I wonder if that is the only role a woman should play in the marital home. Is she just there to help financially? Does been financially independent help her build a better home? How does she cope with all the demands from home and her workplace?

What about the housewife? Does her choice to be a housewife make her financially dependent on her husband? Does it relegate her in the eyes of society? Does her position make her suggestions irrelevant in family decisions?

In terms of romance and proper taking care of the family. Who do you think gets the upper hand; the housewife or the career woman?
Who will go the extra mile to make a home, keep the family happy?

#TGIF#

Let the heat begin!!!

FRIDAY HEAT: Who is more faithful in relationships; a young guy or an old guy?

I know some people say age is nothing but a number and maturity got nothing to do with age but I couldn't help but wonder if same can be said about infidelity in relationships. Who is more faithful in relationships? A young guy or an old guy?

Is it possible to have a faithful relationship with a young guy between the ages of 25-35 or an old guy who is between the age of 45-55?

Do ladies feel more secure with a young fresh dude who is ready to explore life and take advantage of every opportunity it offers or the advanced guy who may have experienced it all and would want to take things on a slow pace?

Are young dudes more promiscuous than older ones?

What's your take on this?
Let the heat begin!!!
#TGIF

SUNDAY READ: The Wrath of Jezebel by Amos Bwire

And the ink keeps flowing... Enjoy!!!
She couldn’t handle it anymore.
She was trembling, so confused that she thought
she could go nuts. The river of tears trailed down
her tender cheeks. Her heart swelled with grief and
rage. Her tongue twisted, foreign melodies tore
through her burning throat. Luckily, at that hour of
the day, traffic was so high that she didn’t have to
take much precaution while driving. Otherwise, she
would have been forced to pull off her car aside.
The phone call she had received from her husband,
the relief she had felt while talking to him over the
phone, off a bad day in the office…plus his
legitimate promises to her, all turned into a
disastrous evening. How dare he talk to me that
way while he’s on bed with another woman? How
dare he? Abella thought, now in a pool of tears,
weeping in sheer grief.
What infuriated her most was the way their
conversation ended. It seemed like someone
interfered that call from Elijah’s side, and took the
phone away from him while still in conversation
with Abella. And soon Abella heard a female voice,
“Let’s get down to business…” and all of a sudden
her husband’s confident voice was thrown
completely off the line. At first she didn’t recognize
the voice, until when she heard Elijah mentioning
the name. She got crushed.
She recalled Jezebel as saying, “Remember the
things we did, huh? Remember? Things nobody
knows about you, but only me...Our little sweet
secrets…”
Secrets…? That was a stab in Abella’s heart. “What
secrets?" Irritated, she whispered at herself. "Oh
Lord!” But that wasn’t as devastating as when she
heard Jezebel urging Elijah to take her from the
other side, a clear indication that it wasn’t a new
act to the two illicit lovers. “Take it. I know you
missed it, baby…you always do…!” Abella choked.
Never had she thought that her husband of six
years could be capable of doing that. The cell-
phone slipped off her hand, onto her lap as her
heart sunk. She exhaled heavily, “Humph!” Her
head fell over the wheel. “Oh, Elijah, how many
skeletons are you hiding in your stinking closet?”
She mumbled in frustration.
__________________
Wasn't it for the honking from behind her, she'd
have stuck at Ubalozi traffic lights for ages.
Totally lost, Abella gassed forth and drove the car
like a driver under-influence. The situation rightfully
confused her. The whole world was like crumbling
down on her. Overwhelmed, she knew she had to
talk to someone. But to whom..?
Two months ago, when she settled her matters
with Elijah and agreed to get back to him, almost
everyone around her was against the idea. Even
her parents and close friends. They insisted for her
to take more time alone, before considering getting
back to him. But she ignored them and got back to
Elijah. I'm not going to tell them about this, again.
Oh lord!
Driving across Shoppers Plaza, she dialed Lucinda.
Her enigmatic friend and business partner,
Lucinda, was the only person who had never been
negative, like the rest, in her decision. She seemed
to be less and less concerned about Abella's marital
life. But also, apart from being her closest friend
and a business associate, Abella considered
Lucinda as a very discreet and matured woman.
“Hello, Lucy!”
“Hello partner! What’s new?”
“Are you at home?” She knew Lucinda was a real
party-fanatic. On Fridays like that she’d always get
back home shortly, change accessories then jet out
to parties, till late hours.
“Yes, sure! But I’m about to get out.”
“Oh really..?”
“You wanted to come, partner?”
“Oh, no, partner. Just go ahead. I’ll check with you
tomor--”
“No no nooo! I’m not in so much hurry,” Said
Lucinda. “You want to come, just come. I’ll be
waiting for you.”
“Is it Ok, Partner?”
“Perfecto!” Replied a normally-composed Lucinda.
“Oh, on my way then... five minutes!"
___________________

FRIDAY HEAT: Is online dating really all about sex???

During a chit chat with my sister yesterday, she told me about a discussion she stumbled upon on her Facebook page. It was about a lady who had met two guys online, A and B. She and A knew each other for a while before he introduced her to B. Along the line, she and A felt Cupid at work but somehow A became distant and B became available. This inadvertently aroused strong feelings for B.

Her dilemma however lies in the fact that she is about to meet both guys for the first time and she doesn't know who is more real since she found out later that all the while A was professing love to her online, he was in a serious relationship with some other cutie. Thanks to B for this info.

Being a bit indecisive on what to do, she had asked her friends (and strangers as well) online to help her with advices not insults( trust Nigerians. Lol!)

To surmise, she got her insults and advice as well but what really piqued my interest was the type of advice she got from her friends. Majority of them told her that she should ditch the two guys because all they want from her is sex. They advised her that most guys online are not real, and she may never really tell who is lying among the two.

This makes me wonder if online dating is about sex since this is not the first time I've heard such comments.

I have met lots of wonderful people online. And yes, the sex factor usually comes into play. Don't know if it is a new tag line to catch a babe or whatever. But it depends on the user to decipher who is a jackass and a real man. If a man starts talking all dirty on you online, you should know without a red alert that he is nothing to write home about.

But what about those who come out all clean, all mannered and well spoken but have such devious plans in their minds?

While I may assume that a sensible person should be able to read the signs, I can't help but wonder if online dating is really just about sex? Is Cupid not working in this time zone? Can't real love, long time partnership be found here?

Despite the technology advancement in the world, most people still find it hard to believe that online dating could actually be the ish. That truly, one can find a partner here. Most people view online dating as an avenue to get cheap sex. With social networking sites such as Facebook and BBM, sex seems to be just one click away and one can get it for free most times. Thanks to sexting.

While I believe that there is nothing really different between an online and offline relationship apart from the medium, some people may not because of the lies people tell online. Some lie about their age, height, weight, facial beauty, career, education etc. Anonymity is at its peak in online dating and this could endanger a careless user.

These flaws had made some people not to take online dating serious but just another whorehouse. How true is this? Can love not be found online? Is online dating really all about sex?

Let the heat begin!!!

SUNDAY READ: FIGHTING JEZEBEL...contd BY AMOS BWIRE

As it opened, Nasra sneaked her face in.
"Didn’t I say ‘No calls’?” Jezebel’s voice rasped right away.

"Sorry, Madame, it’s your father,” In a little shaky voice, Nasra explained. “He said he tried your mobile and it’s not reachable.”

"Eish! What does he want?" Asked Jezebel, and quickly conceded "Ok. But after that…no one else!"

"Yes Madame.” The secretary ran her eyes quickly at Elijah whom had now moved on to the glass walls and stood there, awkwardly staring outside,
his back at the two young women. She could smell and read the map. She spoke to her Boss in a very
polite manner, “Madam, is it alright if I leave for the day…? Tomorrow we start fasting Ramaddan...”

"That’s fine, Nasra." Jezebel said, dragging herself up to pick her extension line. "Vunja jungu eeh?"
She added with a weak smile.

"Yes Madame, umejuaje?" Responded Nasra, in a slight giggle. She closed the door behind her and disappeared.

With Jezebel talking to her old man, Elijah, still taking rips on a burning joint, drew off his cell phone and dialed his wife’s number. From the glass walls he could see it was getting dusky and definitely he would get home late. "Hi darling… Yeah, I’m ok…. Oh, you won’t like to hear about my
day... heeeectic..! Oh really? I’m so glad then…Oh honey, I could feel that, so sorry. But I’ve got a great idea about that. And by the time tomorrow
comes all will be history... uh-huh …of course, of course…Still in the office, yeah. But I’ll be out in half an hour or so… Oh c’mon sweetheart, do I
sound drunk, really...? Don't be jealous baby, hahaaa..! Yeah, alone, yeah...you know me…Ok, go
ahead, I’ll be there in an hour or--" That's when it happened. Before he knew it, a hand came off his
back and forcefully snapped his cellphone. Jezebel had caught him off-guard. In that instant he was speechless! He didn’t know, with the phone in her hands, what Jezebel’s next move was. She gave only one angry stare at it and quickly zeroed herself on him. And to his amazement she slipped the phone inside his jacket's pocket. There was no
chance for his recovery. She clasped his static body in her arms. "Let’s get down to business, stud."

"Jazzy, wait!" Another awkward protest as Elijah tried to jerk back. Jezebel had managed to take off
his fitting jacket, up to his hands.

“Wait a second, oh, wai--” His hands now tagged behind his back, he lost balance and knocked his foot on a side table. And as he tried to grab her for support, Jezebel pushed him recklessly and landed him on the sofa. She climbed right on top of him before he could react against.

"No, no. Jazzy… No!" He tried to push her off him, but her arms pressed down hard, around his shoulder blades. Her naturally-long fingernails dug him in. "I know what you want, baby." She spoke confidently, gyrating her fat hips with her tongue.
She eased her miniskirt over her naked buttocks before her hand reached down in between her legs.
She touched herself a few times then trailed her fingers right up and across his lips, under his nose.

He could smell the strong, musky scent of her sex. "Hmmmm!" He groaned wildly. She bent her head down and pressed her glossy lips, tightly onto his. She kissed him roughly, herself groaning. Her lips traveled down his jaw line and pressed into the hollow under his ear.

"And guess what," She whispered, hot marijuana breath warmed his skin. "Not there tonight, baby. She
wants it in the ass. She wants you to bang her bootee, hard!" That said, her lips roamed lower and, without warning she bit the side of his neck.
He growled and let his lips part. She used that opportunity to push her eager tongue between his teeth and let it play with his. His tongue pushed
back and she let him explore every contour of her mouth. The mixture of wine and marijuana in their mouths killed him. His kisses became responsively aggressive. A little moan escaped in the back of her throat, exciting him more. They kissed fiercely, unable to let go of each other.

Few minutes later, she pulled herself back, detached from his grip. She unbuttoned halfway of her sleeveless-top. "Oh, Shit!" He mumbled when
he saw her explosively enhanced breasts, halfway uncapped in a bra. With an evil smile, Jezebel said,
"Baby, some things never change,” She bent down and kissed him, eagerly. “And some things just get
better with time…"

His hands ran over her mini-skirt, moving around her rear. He was responding to her seizure."Oh,
Jazzy, c’mon…"

"Remember all the things we did, huh?” She murmured the warmth air on his neck. “Remember?”

"Damn… yeah, I do." His breathing got stronger. “But--”

"Things nobody knows about you, but only me," She said, herself breathing faster on him. "Our little sweet secrets…" She kissed him few more times before she stopped and unceremoniously unfastened his shirt buttons. He tried to push her back to no avail. She was already onto his nipples. She bite one, almost chopping it off. Elijah groaned heavily, in a pleasurable pain.
"Mm-mm, just lie down and let me take you, right?"
Her normally white eyes turned bloody red, with desire. She moved her right hand down in between their legs, this time onto his crotch. She rubbed him a few times "Oooh, God! You've got all the powers I need..."

"No no no no nooo…" He tried to take her hand off him. His nipples became stiffer. She saw them. She followed them again and sucked them. Elijah
rumbled. His pecs rippled. I got you...Jezebel thought, satisfaction all over her sexual face.

Quickly she slipped underneath him. "You've got something I dearly want…" She unzipped his pants. And in a flash, his hardness sprung out...

"No, Jazzy. noooo!" He snapped. She grabbed it. She squeezed. Then she caressed it, all the way up, and down. Elijah grabbed her head, trying to stop her from going there. He knew her baddest habit. Call it 'addiction.' "Ooh…ooh. Goddamnit, No!"

"Don’t stop me…Come on…don’t!” She was getting mad and his attempts were baring no fruits. He
knew her so well, especially when she became that way...you better get out of her way or else...

"Oh, noo-oh-nooo…" He was melting.
"Quiet! Who said I’m going to bite, huh?" She spat heavily on his hood, before she ran her hand up and all the way down the trunk. "Let me do
whatever I want, for a night. You'll get back to your lazy wife afterwards!"

"Damn you, Jezeb--" She slapped him hard in the face. He cried out heavily.

"I said quiet! Lie back there and let me be the boss. Right? Right?"

"Shit!"

"Answer me!” She took a burning joint from the ashtray and pressed it right onto his hardened, left nipple.

"Aaaarrrghhh! Stop! Stop!" He groaned out in pain.
She grabbed and pressed on his shoulders before he was able to react, and pushed him back down.

"Just be a good boy! Just be a good boy and all will be alright! Okay?"

"Oh, bitch!"

"I said…?" She barked at him.

"Ok! Ok! Fine! Shit!" He responded quickly and felt her mouth taking him right there and deep inside her mouth. He let out a loud, throaty groan. She knew all his weak sides and she was not gonna give him a chance.

“Oh noo, wait…please, wait…‛ He fought back weakly.
She released her mouth grip on him. “Hush-hush, baby, what?” She ran her fore finger over his lips and dipped it inside his mouth teasing him. “Look, nobody has to know. Nobody gets hurt, huh?”

“Oh, my…!” He was slipping off his mind as he felt her getting back on him. She was taking more and
more of him, burying him deep. “No honey, don’t… oh, shit!”

The warmth and the feeling were undeniably evil. He collected the last energy he had, pulled her face from him, and managed to forge his way off the sofa. Panting, he stood up and grabbed her. “What do you want, bitch? What do you want?” He kissed
her, rough. He threw away his suit jacket. The beast in him roared.

“C’mon, do it.” She challenged. “Is that what you want huh?”

“Mh-huh.”
He grabbed her. He ripped off her bra and threw it away. Her boobs popped out, violently. He was all over them. Lustfully, he scooped one into his mouth. He sucked it, hard, while caressing the other. He pinched the thickness of her nipple. She threw her head back and gasped, a small moan
escaping from the back of her throat with each suckling. Her back arched in a rainbow. She thought her heart was going to jump out of her chest. He licked his way up her collar bones and her neck, stopping at her lips and kissing her passionately, groaning quietly. His tongue traveled the shape of her lips, making her heart race even faster. His lips shifted down to her left ear, biting on her lobe, lightly.

“Oh God!” Her moans got so high pitched and their breaths got faster, shallow. He lifted her, took her in his hands, and carried her up to her desk. He placed her on top of it. He spread her legs. He ripped off her damp, white string and run it across
his big nose. It's sharp odor made his mind jolt.

"Oh, shit!"

"Oooh-oooh, baby, thug me!"
His left hand slid down her rib cage, curved around her hip, down her inner thigh and stopped there. She couldn't breathe. She moaned his old a.k.a, urging him, "Touch me!" Her arm moved down and grabbed his forearm, demanding.

He stared down at her face. She stared back and saw exactly the animal she was looking for. "Oh, bastard, touch me, touch me." She made out between short breaths. And when she felt couple of his fingers passing through her oozing slit, Jezebel let out a surprised moan of which he breathed in with a muffled gasp. She fought to contain herself,
partly embarrassed that her body was on verge of premature release.

"Oooh, I want you, in my ass!" She screamed.

"No!" Elijah said, but couldn’t stop doing what he was doing to her.

"Tell me, you did miss it. You did miss it, huh?" And in a surprisingly-quick motion, she pushed him off her. "Wait!" She snapped, sliding her legs down. She turned around and bent over the desk, spreading her legs wide. His eyeballs flashed by that crab tattoo on her lower back. "Damn you,
Jezebel!" His rumbling came out so huskily, his lips sagged at the sight of Jezebel, now on all fours with nothing left inhibited.

Her package staring right at him, Jezebel ran her fingers tantalizingly over a cascading tail-fan of gemstone-beads that surrounded her shapely
waist, before she spread her cheeks so wide apart, he could see the pleasure prize. Elijah flinched. His
nature muscled up. His face moved forth and under, drugging himself of her erotic sweatiness.

"Oh, shit!" He remarked, his eyes lost at her centroid. His fingers changed lanes.

"Oh, yeah…yeah…touch me. Touch my pooper!" She commanded, insistently. "Oh yeah, how is it? Aaasshhh!" Her chest was so low that her boobs
were pressing on her scattered files and stuff. Her hands scrapped restlessly and hit her laptop, which
slid off the desk. But He saw it. He placed his leg of which to fall on top. The laptop hit him, before it slid down the carpeted floor. She was groaning
carelessly around his fingering, her moans became louder and more intense with his movements.

Elijah drew his fingers out of her. He pushed his pants further lower, letting them slid their way down the ankles. He got hold of her waist. He moved forth, slightly touching her rear slit with his enormous hood. He stopped there. "Damn, I can’t do this!"

"Now!" She commanded, spreading her bootee lips further apart. "I want you, now!"

"I’m not gonna do this." His heart wrestled with his heads. "No, I can’t."

"I want you…get inside me." She grabbed his manhood. She was getting mad. "I say do it, bastard!"

"Goddamn it. No!" His body detached from hers.

Yet she still had him in her hand.
"Don't stop. You just can’t stop!" She turned around. She was fumbling with his body.

"No! Oh shit! No!" He tried.

"C'mon, I know you want my ass! Oh yeah, I know. Now, take it bastard. Take it!"

"Gosh!" He was overwhelmed. "Fuck you, Jezebel!"

He pushed her over the desk, laid her on her back. He swept her legs up and spread them wide apart. He lowered his face and spat, twice.
"Yeah, fuck me! You missed it…you always do... Oh-h-shh!" She taunted hysterically as she felt him
taking her legs further forth, they almost crossed with her shoulders. "Oooh! Oooh!"

His hardness barely had kissed her forbidden fruit, when something happened...

Lights went off, and the generator failed to pick up instantly. Everything stopped. The place became so dark they couldn’t see each other. With a little moral energy and strength left with him, Elijah detached his lower body from hers.

“Whuaat?” She screamed, fumbling with his hand in darkness. He pulled himself strongly, off the desk and moved further away.

“You stick your dick in my mouth then you don’t want to--?” She blurted. And in a vain effort to get hold of him, Jezebel sprawled across the desk.
Missing the edge of it for support, her body sprung all the way to the floor. She let out a sharp, agonizing cry. Sprawled across the floor, she tried
to say something, but nothing came out. She was breathing so heavily, matching his breathing that had by itself become erratic and too audible.

Half dressed-up, Elijah struggled to find back his suit jacket, and his cellphone.

“What happened to you?” She said, on her knees, collecting herself up.. “You never used to be this way.”

“My wife has moved back in. I can’t mess with her anymore.”

“Your wife made you stupid!”

He didn’t bother to respond. He kept on searching for the jacket, which he got hold of, a minute later. He paced on the direction of main door. But before he touched it, power came back and lights went on.

She saw him. "You son of a bitch!" She barked. "Get back here and finish what you’ve started!"

He didn’t turn back. He was opening the door now.

"You hear me?" She was shouting hopelessly, following him outside her office. She saw him rushing down the stairs. “I say come back and finish what you started or else you are--”

He turned around. "You get back inside there and get dressed," He shouted back at her. "Look at you!"

She stopped and stared down at herself. "Oooh my!" Her upper body was nude. She was standing
at the stairhead, watching him hopelessly, as he disappeared downstairs. “You hear me, coward?”
She shouted across, her voice was that of a violent uncontrollable anger. “You are fucking dead!”
____________________________________
Bwire Amos © 2012

WHO THE HELL IS MR RIGHT???

I've been made to believe since my teen years that there's a Mr Right for me. Someone who will waltz into my life and sweep me off my feet. Someone who won't flinch if I fart loudly in public because he is my Mr Right. Someone who would help me build my dreams and also make it a reality. Someone who wouldn't care if I cry like Goldie whenever I miss Big Brother Africa Eviction show on TV. Someone who will totally accept me for who I am.
(Wait a minute! Accept me for who I am???)

I have been living in this castle for (God-knows-how-long) years, waiting for my shining Knight to come set me free. I'm in my mid-twenties and there is still no sign of Mr. Right. (Screaming) Who the hell is he???

Quite a number of men have swam into my life; some I wish I had never dated, some I wish things were different. It seems there is always something holding each of them back from being Mr. Right.

If I could remember vividly what they told me back then, Mt Right was supposed to be someone who is Perfect for me, who don't see my flaws, who will make my bed in the morning while I jam to some P-square or Wizkid hits.
(Wait a minute...let me go through my ex list and see if any one of them had done such for me)

Naaa... None of them (are you sure???)

Yea...damn sure. They all come with their flaws. And with time, even the perfectly hidden ones begin to crawl out of their shell.

It's so damn hard to find Mr Right when young men of nowadays just want to get the booty. And even those who claim to be faithful, jeez...you should check them out in the closet. They are hypocritical!!! It's either you aint doing this right or what others think you should do right!

(Readers are advised not to take the above outrage personally)

Btw, how do I get to know Mr. Right? Is he gonna come dressed up in a white armour or should I expect just a slob?

Is he gonna have a deep sexy voice or a shrill kinda voice?( I hope not the latter)

Is he gonna be rich and famous or just an ordinary guy you pass by on the street?

Is he gonna be a charmer or just that guy who sits by the corner in a gathering with a creepy smile on his face?

Is he gonna be a good dancer or one who just taps his feet and calls it his customised Azonto?

Is he gonna be a fluent speaker or do I need to shush his mouth each time he tries to speak to save myself from embarrassment?

Is he gonna be a good kisser or someone who laps his tongue all over my face like a dog?

Is he gonna be an American, Spanish, European, Asian or an African?

Is he gonna be the one who will cuddle after a steamy sex or doze off after he climaxes?

Is he gonna be any of these? Is he???

But what if he is not what the movies, books and our parents made us believe he is?

What if he is just that lame boyfriend of yours who you can't imagine hanging out with?

What if he is just an ordinary guy, nothing spectacular or dazzling?

What if he is not supposed to be dressed in all that shiny armour, maybe just some drab second-hand clothes?

What if he is not that PERFECT, maybe just a human being with flaws like you?

What if you are not yet RIGHT to be with Mr. Right?

Whoever Mr Right is, I feel so sorry for him because he sure got tons of work to do. He's sure going to make all my fantasies a reality.

I have so many expectations of Mr Right, I just pray he can handle the pressure cos I'm going to make him work. He has to pay for all the years I have spent waiting for him.
There are so many things I want him to do for me. Like he should be able to give me access to his bank account without hesitation, maybe put me as his first priority in life. In fact, he should make me feel like the only girl in the world (clasped hands together...day dreaming).

While we ladies are busy trying to figure out who Mr. Right is, we should also evaluate ourselves. Are we really ready to meet Mr Right? Is Mr Right seeing us as his damsel in distress or are we just another Cinderella's step-sisters he has to shove out of his way?

Maybe I've met Mr. Right without knowing it. Maybe I've been consumed with my expectations of him and failed to pay heed to his expectations of me. Maybe he is still out there waiting for me to really need him.

Whoever you are Mr. Right, I'm ready to meet you...my clock is ticking and it ain't funny anymore....

Rihanna saved me...

I saw this tweet last night on Rihanna's TL on Twitter and I couldn't help but retweet it...
"Heavenly father I trust you, even if it doesn't feel good, even if it doesn't look right!"
Before I logged on to Twitter, I was in a sour mood. Someone got me really upset and this sprang up other disappointment and hurt I have been going through lately. I felt like throwing in the towel. It was like every effort I made have been thwarted by God-knows-who.
I felt dejected, hopeless and overwhelmed by a strong wave of doubt. I began to wonder if there was a God out there. Was He really listening to my prayers? Or has some Grinch hijacked my prayers and sent it to hell instead?
Where were all the beautiful promises He made to me? Why are my dreams not coming true?

Out of frustration, I logged on to Twitter and came across this lovely message on Rihanna's TL:

"Heavenly father I trust you, even if it doesn't feel good, even if it doesn't look right..."
Wow! That was a humble prayer and a very strong one too. That was faith staring back at me. Where is my faith? Why have I allowed doubt and fear to fill my heart?

There's a point in life when we get choked up by our problems. When everything seem static. It's like you are surrounded by one problem or the other. If you move to your left, there seems to be a financial block waving "hieeey" to us. If you move to the right, an emotional block is throwing those little rocks of rejection, hate, hopelessness at us. It seems there is no way out. And you are gradually crumbling, sinking, drowning in the sea of endless problems.

At this point, faith is so hard to achieve. When our prayers are unanswered, we lose faith and give in to doubt. We no longer trust in God to save us from our mess.

But it's times like this that God wants us to trust in Him. To let him take the wheels, to let him lead us while we follow, to let him work in His own way.
We are always eager to do things in OUR own way and time. We have to learn how to let God do things HIS own way and time.

When things are rosy or going as planned, it's so easy to say "God, I trust in you."
But when nothing is working out, it's a different story. But all that has to stop.

You don't have to give up because he's been silent. You have to push on, despite the ups and downs, despite the temptations, the disappointments, the failures, the tears and heartbreaks. You have to be willing enough to let him guide you, to trust in him to see you through, to believe in his word that he who has started a good work in you will complete it...(Phillipians 1:6)

Are you worried today? Do you feel like all your efforts to achieve a dream is not working? Do you feel bad that all your friends got all the latest gadgets and wears and you have none? Does it look like what you are doing now will not work out for you? Do you feel you are praying in vain that God is not listening to you? Do you feel like giving up?
Don't!!!

God is there, right there with you. He is planning your breakthrough. His silence doesn't mean nonchalance.
He cares about you. All you have to do is TRUST!!!

Trust in him, have faith in him. And you will live to declare the marvellous work in his life.

Rihanna may not know this but that humble tweet of hers gave me a ray of hope, an upliftment in my spirit, an inspiration. I'm grateful to God for using her tweet to speak to me.
And I hope it does the same for you.
Have a blessed day!!!