MY DREAM OF MANY CHILDREN

Scene 1 Act 1
I grew up in a really large family and longing for a large family of my own. I dreamt I would have 6 lovely children; 3 boys and 3 girls called (in order of birth) – Ethan, Siphra, Ezekiel (which we would shorten to Ziggy), Lael, Ebenezer and Abigail. Before you ask, these are all Hebrew names with prophetic meanings and I prayerfully picked them to match the personality of each child I had envisioned in my dreams. Mind you, this was before His Royal Husbandness (HRH) showed up.
Scene 1 Act 2
So after much prayer and considerations, here comes HRH. Along with him came sweaty palms, thumping heart and butterflies in my tummy. I was in love and very near the fulfillment of my childhood dreams; HRH, me and our lovely 6 children born one year after another. However, not very long into our relationship, he announced that he wanted just 1 child. ONE! Imagine that. One to my six! Who would I have and who wouldn’t I have? What would I do with the names? We fought over that until he finally conceded and said ‘well ok, two then’. ‘This is how dreams die’, I thought.
Scene 1 Act 3
So we had two. I juggled those names in my brain until I developed constant headaches. I would call the boy – Ethan Ezekiel Ebenezer and the girl - Siphra Lael Abigail. And amazingly and mercifully, number 3 came. But by then, even I was done. Enough! The three of them had the energies of a fully-fledged army that drained me (the commandant) every day. I didn’t want any more, I didn’t care about the names. In fact I didn’t even care if the ones I had had meaningful names or not. In my befuddled exhausted state, I resorted to calling them ‘hey u’ or ‘what’s your name sef’ or ‘who’s there’. I just wanted them to grow up quickly, be good responsible citizens and return me intact to my pre-motherhood phase (mentally if not physically); I never thought it would be this consuming having 3 not to talk of 6!
Scene 2 Act 1
So my very dear friend asks me to mind her kids for a week as she needs to travel urgently. They are aged 8 and 4, matching ages of my youngest 2. Finally, I am near that dream of long ago. I joyously take them home on Friday, planning all the things we would do over the weekend. For one week, I get to relive my childhood dream. I am even tempted to borrow my neighbour’s daughter so that the dream would be perfectly played out.
Scene 2 Act 2
It’s not working out the way I dreamt it! My bubble’s been burst. What was I expecting? I thought the perfect number would breed the perfect situation I had envisaged years ago. The new additions have only become recruits for my already energetic army. It’s the same old war times 2! More grumpiness, more whining, more fights over meals, toys and even me! More homework to check and more children to groom. I have become Supreme Court judge as I try to resolve the disputes, I face more accusations and was recently told this ‘It’s not fair, you always take sides with the girls, you don’t like boys!’ And bed times? Not a small feat – ‘Why?’, ‘I am not tired?’, ‘I can’t sleep’, ‘I am still hungry’….
The youngest 2 always find a reason to wake me up in the middle of the night; ‘I want water’ or ‘I want hot cocoa’. Last night it was the monster that was looking at them while they slept. I had to stand guard by the bed and chase the monster away!
And where is HRH in all of this? Thankfully, he’s been away otherwise if I dare complain, I would have heard it – nor be you want many children? So I am exhausted but enjoying this moment of mothering 5 young children, just one short of a dream of long ago. Tired as I am, I relish the fights, the full breakfast table, the prayer times when I get to hear everything that happened in their day and the amazing things they say to God.
Scene 2 Act 3
In a few days, my other children will be going back home. I really will miss them as I know mine will miss them too. The pace of activities will slow down somewhat but as long as I have my 3, I will remain supreme court judge and face whining and accusations (I still like girls!), I will check homework books still, I will groom little hands, heads and feet, I will be cried and jostled over and I will still be woken up in the middle of the night.
To think that I ever thought of having 6!
Final Scene & Act
Makes me think about God and His many children and our different issues….
Imagine His house!
Hmmh! I praise Him!

AYEBA NUA

Ayeba Nua simply means – Thank God. Have you thanked Him today?

Sometimes it seems like nothing is going right, but He makes ALL things beautiful in His time. Look at my Dad. In a few days he will be 80 years old. No one ever thought he would make it this far. No way, not with everything he has been through, but he’s not only made it, he is well and has defied medical reports time and again.

I remember that very first stroke more than 13 years ago and how a part of him was paralyzed; all of a sudden he couldn’t do things for himself. My once vibrant, handsome, life-loving father got lost in a body that struggled to function. It was painful to watch, but as we watched and prayed, we saw the hand of God touch him and revive him. A once paralyzed body came fully back to life. We carried on for a few years like it had never even happened.

When the next stroke came, it was devastating. This time the doctors were certain that he wouldn’t make it. Along with dealing with the stroke we dealt with Diabetes, Alzheimer’s disease, and an enlarged prostate. How does one recover from so many illnesses all at the same time?

I remember the fear each time my phone rang, or my doorbell rang. What a scary crazy moment. He went through surgery and somehow survived that against all odds. He pulled through 4 different strokes after that, each one leaving him the worse for wear than the last one did. Everyone said what a strong man he was – determined to live, but I knew God was at work in Him, to will and to do of His good pleasure. To craft out a moment where we look back and see Him at work in all of this so that we can say ‘Ayeba Nua o!’

I remember my visit early in 2009 – our conversation was stilted. He thought I was his sister, we were back in the village sharing the meal his mum prepared engaged in some sort of sibling rivalry, there I was not upsetting the cart, playing along, pretending indeed to be his sister. I left that day consoling myself saying ‘at least, he’s still alive, he may never ever remember me but he’s still alive. The doctors said that’s what Alzheimer’s does to its victims. Alzheimer’s wouldn’t let go, it was here to stay they said. There’s nothing more we can do, just keep on taking the medications.

Last year I went for another visit. He smiled as soon as he saw me. He asked for my husband by name and my first 2 children. ‘And that 3^rd one – I don’t remember him very well, how is he?’ ‘the 3^rd one is fine Daddy, his name is Mudi and he’s 3 years old now. Of course you don’t remember him well, he was just 3 months when we left’, I said and at the time you were very sick – I silently added.

And now, I look forward to celebrating his 80^th – over a decade more than the doctors predicted he would last. We were like Rhoda in the bible when we prayed, asking God for a miracle but not quite expecting it. Indeed no one can share His glory – He stretched forth His hands and healed all our diseases, while thank you seems so mundane, that’s all I have left to say. Ayeba Nua O! You have done me well.

Ayeba Nua!