You can’t nurture others when you yourself need nurturing. Well, perhaps others can, but I have come to realize that I cannot.
I cannot keep giving to those who are just taking, who continue to carelessly and without compunction or remorse, deplete my resources without giving in return. I cannot, nor am I willing to try any longer.

They say if the woman of the home is not happy, nobody is happy –  but I wonder how many of us actually stop to think what that means? Like a fruit tree that needs the correct temperature, right amounts of water at the right time, and sunshine to produce its fruit, a woman needs to be nurtured and her needs catered to before she can minister to her family and those around her. From the abundance of her heart she will speak and act. If her heart is filled with bitterness and resentment then that is what she will serve the world, starting with those closest to her. But if her heart is filled with love, joy and peacefulness; if she is nurtured and her needs met; and if she is receiving what she needs to thrive, not just survive, then she is more likely to be a light, a warmth, to those around her and in her circle of influence; more likely to serve them and nurture them well and better able to meet their needs out of the abundance of what she has received. Just like a fruit tree will yield better fruit if its requirements are met, the woman in your life will love you better if her needs are met. This is not rocket science.

Having found that I was beginning to harbour resentment and growing bitter because of repeated and continuous lack of care for my emotional well-being, I chose to remove myself from what has lately been a thoroughly stressful situation. If you aren’t even trying to be kind to me, let alone loving, then I’m no longer hanging around to be hurt. Not only do i deserve better, i demand better. If nothing else, i owe it to myself to look after my heart. Shape up or ship out. Finish and klaar.



He [God] alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge (Ps 62:6-7).

I used to wonder what kind of people post Scripture on social media. What kind of emotion did they feel to do that? Posting quotes is one thing, but posting Scripture? Not paraphrased, but actual verses? I don’t know. Bible verses bring up such strong emotion, both positive and negative. What would you have to be feeling to not care about that- about the emotions that the verses would inspire in other people? Did they not care about ‘other people’?

And then I understood. I became that  person who posted verses on Facebook. Or at least I was fast becoming her. I didn’t quite know how I felt about that. I thought of all the times I’d called myself an agnostic. All the times I called myself an ‘ex-Christian.’ All the debates I’d had in which I was on the side of ‘Christianity is a sham’. After all that, here I was understanding what it would take to stand up and say ‘I believe in the God of the Bible.’

I used to say ‘not until God explains to me why my mother died,’ as if God, God!- owed me an explanation; as if I’d had anything to do with her being alive, to demand an explanation for her being not. Sometimes as I walk down the street I see a woman who reminds me of my mother. It hurts. It really hurts. I still don’t know why my mother died, but I no longer let anger and despair over her death stop me from living. Or at least, i try not to. So when the hurt comes, I close my eyes and whisper to myself ‘one day you’ll understand,’ and I try to think of a happy memory. Some days that’s easier that on others.

I even said -not unless I have a ‘Damascus moment’, daring to challenge God to test me. I am so thankful that I never had a Damascus moment, I don’t do very well when times are bad. Paul had to stay in that inn, blind – that can’t have been any fun. Think of the past he had to deal with, his involvement in the stoning of Steven – he must have had to deal with that. Wouldn’t it have been easier to meet God as a ‘good’ person, with no ‘past’? My past is, well, interesting, but thank God, really, that I don’t have to deal with the sort of past Paul had to deal with. I say that not because I’m proud, but because I’m so grateful that God grabbed hold of me before things could get any worse.

Because of that, because I know that I’m not beyond redemption, because I know that my God lives and I know that He saves, I can post Scripture on Facebook. I don’t really care what other people think, I’m not doing it for them I’m doing it for me because I cannot pretend that I have not found this treasure, I have to tell somebody. So I use Facebook properly – I use it to tell the people in my world what’s happening in my life.