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Introducing myself and my journal: Daring to Hope...

About Me:
What do I love best about me? When I laugh. I laugh deep, with my soul, with all that I am. Even my bones feel it. I love people, and think that every person, every face, every smile, each eye has a story to tell. Sitting in cafes, in the bus stop, I wonder to myself what story the other would tell, if he could, and sometimes, may be more often than others think ok, I probe. I ask. And there are jewels out there.

That being so, I am not strong. I am weak, I cry, I struggle. I get frustrated. Sometimes I go to bed and I think I will never wake up. But then I remember - those before me, their backs broken as they sought to make my path easier. I bend down and grab by my shoe strings, and with all my might I hoist myself up, ready to face another day. And when I am - I laugh, and my bones can feel it. Then I can go on...

My Passions:
People and their stories. Books (I love Shantaram). Music

My Challenges:
I have to learn patience.

My Vision for the Future:
Where Generosit is rediscovered.

My Areas of Expertise:
Administration, Organisation

Comments

wanjirumungai's picture

q

q

Another miracle to my soul – by my little friend Asal.

Yesterday night at around 9.30pm, I am sitting outside the gate watching the cars pass by and watching people going home... My basic Arabic is not too bad, but often I cannot communicate as well as I should especially when the conversation is anything beyond basic.

Asal passes by. She tells me that she's going to watch a movie - one of these mobile theatres that show Christian movies just a couple of meters from her home, in an open field.
Will I go, she wants to know.
What is it about, I ask.
It’s about Abraham, and I must go to watch it with her.

I ask her whether she is a 'Mesihi' - i.e. a Christian as they are referred to here, or a Moslem.
She looks at me with amazement and she tells me that she is neither.
I insist. Does she go to church?
I want to know.
Of course she does, she says.
She is a bit lost, ( I think I am more lost that she is) but finally, and with refreshing finality, she tells me that she is Asal.
And she spells out her name for me.
She is not 'Christian', nor is she 'Muslim'.
She is sitting on my lap and her eyes literary glow.
Indeed, she is Asal, and I am sure that God must know her by name!

Life is beautiful. So why don't you let God bless and renew you!

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