Category Archives: Uncategorized

When Walls Grow Higher

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As I walked to the pharmacy with my three-year-old, I noticed that most yards were enclosed by walls more than a metre high. For some reason, my mind wandered over all the streets I had walked through during the past year and a half, and I realised that almost every yard I had seen was closed in.

As I continued walking, I shook my head because it reminded me of home in Cameroon. These days, almost every new house is built with a high wall around it. Society has changed, and people no longer feel safe enough to leave their doors open.

In contrast, I found myself thinking about my visit to Amsterdam in April 2026. I had gone to visit my Japanese friend-sister in Hof Van Groenen, and from there they kindly drove me to Hilversum, a beautiful little town, to visit family friends I had first known during my teenage years in Cameroon. As we sat in their living room, I noticed people passing by on the street glancing through the windows into the homes around us.

At first, I found it strange, but my host simply smiled. Later, he and his wife took me to Naarden-Vesting, the historic fortress town, and explained the history behind its beautiful star-shaped design. As we walked through the town, I noticed once again that there were no fences around the houses, and people looked through the windows quite naturally.

Curious, I asked my host whether it was not considered inappropriate to look into other people’s homes. He explained that, in their culture, living rooms were often decorated to be seen and admired. People displayed old antiques on shelves or arranged tulips of different colours on the windowsills for others to enjoy.

That way of thinking challenged what I had grown used to seeing. It was comforting to know that there were still places where people valued openness, community, and tradition. Everywhere I went, I was met with warmth, kindness, and gestures of welcome.

As I reflected on that visit, I could not help but sigh deeply. It saddened me to think about how much my own society has changed. The spirit of togetherness that once held people close seems to be weakening. Children no longer show the same respect for elders, neighbours pass one another without greeting, and on buses, young people often remain absorbed in their phones while elderly or injured people are left standing.

Yet this reflection also reminds me that values do not disappear on their own; they fade when people stop practising them. If there is any hope for a more humane society, it must begin in the small, ordinary ways we choose to treat one another: in a greeting, in an open heart, in respect for the elderly, and in the willingness to see our neighbours not as strangers, but as part of our shared human family.

Finding Peace in Gardening

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Many of my clients have described gardening as one of their favourite hobbies because it creates a sense of serenity. It gives them space to reflect, calm their thoughts, and step away from the chaos of their busy schedules.

As someone who spent the first ten years of her life in a village, you might think gardening would come naturally to me. In many ways, it should have. I was involved in turning the soil, planting, and helping to maintain the garden. And yet, I never really paused to appreciate the feeling that came with it.

In April, I decided to take up gardening for myself and step outside my comfort zone. I tilled the soil and created four small patches for lettuce, melon, huckleberry, and potatoes. As I worked, I felt both excited and anxious. My mind raced with questions: Would the seeds germinate? Would they grow well?

This was my first time tending a garden without anyone’s guidance, and all I had to rely on was what I remembered from watching my mother more than twenty years ago. To make matters worse, the rains stopped just as I had finally decided to begin. Once the groundwork was done and the seeds were planted, I waited for rain, only to realise that I would need to water the garden by hand until it arrived.

I headed to the utility room to rummage through the tools we had and found a hose, which I connected to the tap to water the garden by hand. For a week, I cared for it that way—until the hose broke. Suddenly, I was left wondering how I would keep the garden alive in 32-degree heat without it. Then I remembered how my mother used to carry water in a can to nourish her vegetables. So, once again, I went off to the supermarket, this time in search of a watering can.

That was the moment I realised gardening is not as simple as people sometimes make it sound. It requires patience, consistency, and thoughtful planning. As the weeks passed, I kept a close eye on every small change. As of June 3, I am thrilled to say that I have around 12 healthy bunches of lettuce growing and 16 potato shoots pushing through the soil. Unfortunately, the melon didn’t make it.  As for the huckleberry, I believe it has not adapted well to this climate in the way it would back home in Cameroon.

I remember my mother sprinkling ashes from the fireplace over the huckleberry plants to enrich the soil, but that is not something I have access to here in France. Even though the huckleberry did not survive, I decided to nourish the rest of the garden with organic compost instead. Now, whenever we peel carrots, cut tomatoes, eat bananas, or have any other biodegradable food scraps, I chop them into smaller pieces and place them in a small hole in the garden. In this way, the soil is gradually fed through decomposition.

To pass on what I am learning to my two sons, I let them help with weeding around the lettuce. Watching them work so joyfully brings me a deep sense of fulfilment. My three-year-old is still too young to understand exactly what he should and should not touch, so I give him the task of collecting garden waste and putting it into the green bin bag. His eager little voice always responds with a cheerful, “Yes, Mommy.” My six-year-old, on the other hand, can already tell the difference between the plants, so he carefully pulls out the unwanted weeds.

Now, as I work in the garden and watch my children interact with it, I understand more deeply why so many people cherish this hobby. Beyond the harvest, gardening has given me a new way to connect—with nature, with my memories, with my children, and even with my clients. What once felt like simple labour has become a source of joy, reflection, and quiet pride.

Two Years Turn Into Eight Years

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“Who taught you how to teach?” was the first question I was asked at Rain Forest International School (RFIS) after I finished a twenty-minute lesson with incoming students. “I taught myself through YouTube videos, online articles, and memories of my own teachers,” I replied. “How long do you plan to work at RFIS?” the interviewer asked. “I plan to be here for at least two years,” I said. “And what are your plans after that?” she asked. “I am praying to find a job in my field of study.”

A day after the interview, I received a call and was told, “We would love for you to join our team of teachers in serving our students. Would you be willing?” With great joy, I said, “Yes.” That was the beginning of my teaching journey at RFIS, where I served from 2016 to 2024.

I must say that, in many ways, it felt as though I had entered a teacher training camp, because there were so many terms and practices I had never encountered before. It is fair to say that my first two years were devoted to learning how to teach, manage a classroom, plan lessons, and deliver them effectively. Once I began to feel confident in my role as a Language Support person, I was entrusted with additional responsibilities, including teaching English Language Learners as a separate class rather than simply supporting them. When teachers were needed, I stepped in to teach African Studies for half a year. The following year, when a History 9 teacher was needed, I chose to teach that class instead of French. Eventually, the school placed me in Middle School Standard English and Middle School Humanities. Throughout those eight years, despite the many different classes I taught, I continued to fulfill my responsibilities as an English Language Support specialist.

Every year felt like a season of training, because I rarely taught the same classes twice in a row, except for the last two years, when I taught both Middle School English and Middle School Humanities. This most recent year, which has just come to an end, felt more settled because I no longer had to plan entirely new material as I did the first time I taught those courses.

In addition to my classroom duties, I also served as a coach for soccer, basketball, and volleyball. I mentored students and led small groups, which was especially meaningful to me, as working with young people and providing guidance has always been one of my greatest passions. When our SAT Coordinator knew she would be retiring the following year, she began training me to take over her responsibilities, as I had already been working alongside her since 2016. She retired in 2022.

However, I would not have gained such knowledge in education and in many other areas without the support of my wonderful coworkers, who patiently answered my questions and shared advice on classroom management, the use of available resources, and effective communication with parents. Each of them poured into me generously, and their guidance helped shape me into the educator and leader I am today. For that, I am deeply grateful.

Whenever students complained about a concept, I would jokingly tell them to “blame” my mentors, because I had asked them how best to explain it and was simply following their advice. Those light-hearted moments brought so much joy to my classroom. I had so much fun with my students, and I could see from their expressions and their eagerness to participate that they genuinely enjoyed the lessons, the stories, and one another’s company.

As I move on to a new chapter in my life, I will carry with me the memories of these past eight years—years filled with laughter, prayer, tears, love, and friendship.

I will always hold you all close to my heart.

FREEDOM IN HORSES AND MOTORBIKES.

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From horses to motorbikes, my love for riding began when I was just two years old. The remarkable part is that I still remember that day. I remember being placed on a horse and sitting there for what felt like only a few moments before I suddenly let out a piercing cry. My mother rushed to lift me down as though the horse was covered in thorns. I did not stop screaming until she set me safely back on the ground.

As I struggled to pull down my trousers, my mother quickly realised that the source of my pain was hidden beneath my clothes and hurried to undress me. When she pulled down my underwear, she discovered a large red ant 🐜 clinging stubbornly to my skin with its sharp jaws. She removed it at once, and I calmed down almost immediately. Once the drama had passed, I climbed back onto the horse and proudly rode around the compound with its owner.

When I was sixteen, we visited a family friend and went horse riding with his daughters. The feeling of the wind against my face and the sense of freedom it brought were unforgettable. I wanted to remain in the saddle forever. Three years later, I found myself once again in a Fulani community, where our host father asked us to deliver a message to the next village, as phones were still rare. I was thrilled, knowing the journey would take between three and five hours. And so, three teenagers set off on horseback to deliver a simple message.

My two companions, Kali and Adamu, were far more experienced riders than I was, and they amused themselves by holding little races along the road. I could not help laughing when they both slipped from their horses on the muddy path. Even with the drizzle falling over us, we took in the beauty of the endless green plains stretching for miles ahead. The scene felt almost cinematic, like something out of Howl’s Moving Castle, with its dreamlike landscapes and quiet wonder. I imagined myself in the world of Anne of Green Gables or Heidi, growing up in a peaceful countryside untouched by the noise and pollution of city life. We passed cattle grazing calmly and rows of vegetables thriving in the earth. I felt completely at peace. When we finally arrived, we stepped into another idyllic picture: small gardens in front of huts, each bordered by neat little fences.

Our host was surprised to see three teenagers who had braved the rain to deliver a message. He welcomed us warmly, and his wife prepared warm water for us along with steaming, comforting food. We ate in the darkness, as electricity was scarce, but their kindness made the evening feel full. Grateful for their hospitality, we turned in early, knowing there was little to do after nightfall.

The next morning, we saddled our horses and returned to our host’s home. This journey felt easier and quicker because we followed the main road instead of the mountain trail we had taken the day before. As we rode through the villages, children ran out to wave at us beneath bright blue skies. It was the longest time I had ever spent on horseback, and I treasured every moment of it.

Once we arrived home, I thanked our host sincerely for the wonderful opportunity to ride the horses. When the time came to leave, I was reluctant to go, and the lady of the house seemed equally unwilling to let her “extra daughter” depart. During the two weeks Kali and I spent there, many neighbours stopped by to ask whether I was truly their daughter so that they could propose marriage. I looked and dressed like the local girls, and many assumed I was Fulani. Saying goodbye was not easy, but we cherished our time there and promised to return one day.

After high school, I moved to Kenya, where I often rode motorbike taxis to and from the main road before catching public transport into Nairobi. Each ride stirred the same feeling I had known years earlier on horseback: the wind against my face, the thrill of movement, and the deep sense of freedom that came with both. That connection inspired me to dream of learning to ride a motorbike myself. Although I never had the chance, I still hope that one day I will. I can already imagine riding through forests and over hills, feeling once again at one with nature.

Looking back, I realise that whether on the back of a horse or the seat of a motorbike, what has always moved me most is not simply the ride itself, but the freedom, wonder, and connection it brings. These moments have stayed with me across the years, linking childhood memories with later adventures and reminding me of how deeply joy can be tied to movement, nature, and discovery. Perhaps that is why the dream still lives on: to keep riding forward, wherever the road—or trail—may lead.

IN MY OWN WORDS: What Creates a Good Marriage?

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Marriage has taught me that it is far more than a ceremony or a set of spoken vows. It is a sacred covenant that requires maturity, humility, sacrifice, and a willingness to grow together under God’s guidance. What I once understood only in theory, I have come to understand through lived experience.

Marriage Requires Shared Purpose

The day two people say “I do,” they begin a life in which personal priorities must give way to shared purpose. Marriage calls each spouse to become a companion, a support, and a source of strength to the other. It is not about competition, but about complementing one another’s strengths and weaknesses with patience, wisdom, and grace. A strong home is built when both husband and wife commit themselves to unity rather than individuality.

Marriage Is Rooted in God’s Design

Scripture teaches that it is not good for a person to be alone, and from the beginning God designed marriage as a relationship of companionship, help, and unity. This means that in today’s world, spouses must intentionally make time for one another, protect their relationship, and build their home with love and purpose. Healthy marriage does not happen by accident; it is nurtured through presence, commitment, and a desire to honour God in how we live together.

Marriage Thrives on Service, Respect, and Responsibility

Marriage flourishes when both spouses are willing to ask, “How can I help?” Whether in household responsibilities, emotional support, or daily acts of care, service should be offered with love rather than demanded with entitlement. Couples must learn to communicate with patience, resolve conflict with humility, and create a home where respect is protected even in moments of disagreement. These habits do not weaken a marriage; they strengthen it.

Marriage Requires Financial Unity and Teamwork

Finances can test any marriage, especially when two people are used to managing money independently. Yet marriage requires unity in stewardship. A strong couple does not treat income as a weapon, a source of pride, or a measure of worth. Instead, husband and wife should make decisions transparently, support one another responsibly, and recognise that everything they have is part of the life they are building together. Financial wisdom in marriage is not simply about earning; it is about trust, discipline, and shared vision.

Likewise, if a wife happens to earn more than her husband, she must be careful not to allow that reality to become a source of pride, disrespect, or condescension. It is painful to witness marriages wounded by insults, comparison, and financial arrogance. Income should never become a weapon within the home. Instead, increased earnings should be viewed as an opportunity to strengthen the family, support shared goals, and plan wisely for the future. While there is nothing wrong with presenting oneself well, stewardship requires discipline and foresight. A couple must ask not only how to enjoy the present, but also how to prepare for the future of their family. Whatever each spouse earns should be regarded not merely as personal gain, but as a resource entrusted to the household for a greater purpose.

In our own marriage, we have learned the value of financial transparency and shared decision-making. My husband knows what I earn, and I know what he earns. We do not hide these matters from one another. At the end of each month, we discuss where our income should go and how best to manage it in light of our responsibilities and long-term goals. We have agreed on reasonable personal allowances because we understand that financial discipline is necessary if we are to build the life we envision together. Even when I have opportunities to earn additional income, I try to view those earnings as another means of supporting our home rather than simply expanding my personal spending. This mindset did not develop overnight. It required adjustment, humility, and trust. Yet over time, I came to appreciate the wisdom of approaching finances as a united team rather than as separate individuals.

Marriage Grows Where Honour Remains

One of the most important lessons I have learned is that marriage grows where honour remains. Constant criticism weakens a relationship, but appreciation, patience, and respect help it mature. As spouses learn to protect one another’s dignity and make room for growth, they create an environment in which love can deepen and trust can flourish. Marriage becomes stronger when both husband and wife choose grace over pride.

Foundations of a Strong Marriage

I share these reflections not as someone who has mastered marriage, but as someone who has been shaped by it. I am still learning, still growing, and still depending on God’s grace. Yet I hope these lessons encourage others to see marriage not simply as a relationship to be enjoyed, but as a covenant to be honoured, protected, and built with wisdom.

Pray without ceasing

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“Mother, how are you doing today?” “I am much better. We are just busy burying children and people almost every week. I am in the garden and can hear gunshots”.

This is a regular conversation I have with my beautiful mother who lives in the heart of a conflict she does not desire like so many families who have lost loved ones. She has an elderly uncle she takes care of and refuses to abandon him to flee.

A strong Christian woman, she prays and puts everything into God’s hands as so many do. Though far from her and wishing to have her close by, we join her in prayers because God asks us to bring everything to him in prayer, and we are tired of bloodshed. Our nature has always been to maintain peace and abide by the law.

After our adoption into God’s family, our new nature requires us to honor God in our words and actions. To be honest, it is easier thought than done; we have asked God to end the conflict and restore the peace we once had.

Though no response has come through yet, we will not lose faith. Our hope is built on him wjo has fulfilled his promises over and over. His word says that he never changes, which means he hears us, and he will be the one to set us free.

In the midst of unanswered prayers, I will lift up my eyes to the hills, and cry to him who provides for all our needs.

Marriage, Motherhood, and the Questions Facing a Generation

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“Madame, tu as beaucoup mangé (Madam, you have eaten a lot),” said my former student from College Technique le Bon Berger, when she saw my protruding baby bump in a grocery shop. In Cameroon, when someone tells you that you have eaten a lot, it means you are pregnant. Given the context, I agreed with her that I had indeed eaten a lot. I then asked whether she had finished at her old school, and she said yes. When I asked where she was now, she replied, “In fact, I didn’t go to school this year because there was no money.” When I pressed further, she told me, “I have a child who is one year old now.” That was when I helped her say the truth plainly by responding, “In actuality, you didn’t finish school; you dropped out because you got pregnant.” Without hesitation, she said yes. I asked her what was happening with young girls these days. “How can my students have children before me? How many of your classmates already have children? Three or four?” She answered, “Nous sommes sept (there are seven of us).” Then she turned the question on me and asked, “Et toi, madame, tu es toujours avec ton blanc là? C’est lui le père de ton enfant?” (And you, Madam, are you still with that white man of yours? Is he the father of your child?)

In my mind, I was thinking, Do you young people know that some of us older ones do actually get married? I looked at her and said, “You mean my husband?” while showing her my wedding ring. She did not seem fully aware of how her words came across. Still, I told her, “Yes, my husband is the father of my child, and yes, he is the white gentleman I was engaged to when I taught you. We got married and have begun our family.” I think my tone made her realize that she had offended me. I was not harsh, but I was firm in helping her understand that, for some of us, marriage before children still remains deeply meaningful.

After our conversation, I found myself wondering: Does marriage still hold the same significance in society today? What are parents teaching our teenagers, and what messages are shaping them beyond the home? When I was at university, I watched some students become pregnant in their first year after leaving the structure of their parents’ homes. A few of them spoke openly about weekend encounters and the dishonesty that sometimes followed. What troubled me was not only the behaviour itself, but the sense that many of them were making serious choices without fully thinking through the consequences for their future. When I sat a couple of them down and asked whether they were the ones paying their own tuition, they said no. Then I asked why it seemed so difficult to stay focused on school. They had no answer. By the end of the academic year, a number of them were pregnant, and some aborted their babies because they were afraid of their parents.

When I returned to Cameroon, I had similar conversations with students at the secondary school where I taught, as well as with some young people I met on the streets. The girls at that school laughed at me for being a virgin at 26 years old. To me, that reaction suggested that, among the 43 girls between the ages of 13 and 18 in that classroom, many had already become sexually active. It also reflected a wider gap in values and understanding between us. They did not easily respect me in the classroom until I began speaking with some of them one-on-one to get to the root of the issue. Many of these young people seem to have grown up without the consistent guidance of strong role models. Some come from unstable family situations, while others live with relatives who may not feel equipped to provide the sexual education, emotional support, and moral guidance they need at home.

In October 2018, on election day, I went to observe the elections in my area and met one of the security officials assigned to keep order. He became attached to me and asked me to be his girlfriend, even though he had a wife at home. I asked him whether he had really looked at me carefully. “Why would I, a married woman, agree to go out with a married man?” He said that the ring meant nothing and that one cannot be bound to only one person. I responded, “I understand marriage to be a commitment between a man and a woman who have pledged themselves to each other for better or for worse. My husband and I keep no secrets from each other, and as a matter of fact, this conversation is going straight to him in the next few minutes. If you want me to be your girlfriend, you will need to go through him first—which, in any case, I would never agree to.” He looked at me and asked what I would say to my husband, and I replied, “I would tell my husband that there is a certain man at the polling station who wants Mrs. Astic to be his girlfriend.” He said I would not dare, so I took out my phone and began to dial my husband’s number. I did not call immediately, but I did later when I needed to update him on what was happening at the polling station. When my husband arrived later with his team of observers, I introduced him to the man, who immediately felt awkward because he knew I had told my husband about him.

If these are the examples some young people see around them, how can they easily distinguish between commitment and casual relationships? Why would they not come to view these choices as normal while still in school? In many places today, young people are exposed to adult situations long before they are emotionally or practically prepared for them. As a result, those who still believe that family life is best built within a stable and intentional framework can sometimes seem out of step with the culture around them. Yet the deeper issue, to me, is that many girls are not being given honest guidance about the consequences of unprotected sex or the life-changing responsibility of raising a child before they are ready.

Just three weeks ago, I went for a maternity visit. On my way back, I saw a young girl, no older than 14, coming down a hill. She stopped to catch her breath, and when I saw her protruding stomach, a sharp pain went through my heart. How had someone so young already come to carry such a burden? She stared straight at me as I drove by. Another thought crossed my mind: How have we reached a point where girls who are still children are stepping into motherhood so soon? My heart broke for this young girl and for all the others I have heard reports about in the North-West Region of Cameroon. They are still children, yet many have already had their education interrupted and their futures altered in ways they may not yet fully understand.

Have we moved so far away from the virtues once associated with marriage and responsibility that even very young boys and girls are beginning to engage in adult activities? I once watched a YouTube video about a 13-year-old girl who gave birth a day after her parents discovered she was pregnant. What struck me most was her attitude toward the baby. She would not care for the child, spend time with the child, or even look at the child. On her birthday, friends and family brought gifts that were mostly for the baby, and she broke down and cried. She said, “It is my birthday, so why are all my gifts for the baby? It is not her birthday.” That moment reminded me of Paternity Court, which my husband and I have watched. Judge Lauren’s words echoed in my mind: “This is the reason why children should not have children.” They are still children themselves and often do not yet understand that bringing a child into this world means laying down many of the privileges of childhood in order to become a parent. It always brings me back to the same question: Where are the role models in their lives?

From the many episodes we watched, people in their twenties through their fifties often broke down and said that they did not know how to be better parents because they themselves had grown up without one or both parents present in their lives. And even when parents were present, the example before them was sometimes painful or unhealthy. How can young people be expected to choose differently if they have rarely seen a better model lived out before them? For me, this is not simply a question about marriage, but about guidance, responsibility, and the kinds of examples we place before the next generation. What worries me most is not only the loss of innocence, but the loss of direction. If there is hope for change, it will come through parents, families, schools, faith communities, and society as a whole taking seriously the task of guiding young people with honesty, compassion, and a sense of purpose.

HOW DOES FAITH LOOK LIKE?

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“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” Hebrews 11:1

My journey with the Lord began fourteen years ago when I felt alone in my bedroom in the village needing love and affection from a father. I said to the Lord, “I have heard that you are a loving father since the age of 10. I have no father to whom I can run to and share my day’s happenings with, or one who can reassure me when my heart is broken, or one who can defend me from young men. Over and over, I have been told that you are a loving father. If I entrust my heart to you, will you protect it for me? If you are able to be the father that everyone talks about, then come into my life.”

From that moment on, my journey began with lots of trials and temptations. My faith was challenged beyond measures, and many times, I almost succumbed to the demands of the society. However, I refused to be swayed by my enemies in horrific nightmares, persecutions from families and neighbours. Two years went by, and my horrific dark dreams began to have the heavens open up for a hand to reach down and pick me up. Finally at age 18, I made a commitment and publicly proclaimed it at 19 years of age when I got baptized.

My final year of high school began my faith journey where I allowed God to lead me through the plans he had for my life. My plan A had been to do physiotherapy as my career, but I had not the means to pursue it. Hence, Plan B which was to study Bible took the front line, and I got accepted to Daystar University in Kenya three weeks before the semester began. You may be wondering where faith comes in this part, and you are right to wonder. Don’t worry, you have not that much to wait.

Well!! Here I was with three weeks to depart for a country I have never been to, but I had no passport or a visa. YEAH!!! What fun. So my grandma Vreni Geiger embarked on a journey to obtain three passports for three aspiring students. Within the three weeks, we prayed for passports that often take 3 months to come out, and they came out. This was a miracle and confirmation that God obviously was present. We believed in the impossible, and God came through for us.

Many other events took place throughout the four years I had in Kenya, where I believed in God’s plan for my life, and he came through for me. I graduated with a Double B.A in Biblical and Religious Studies and Peace and Conflict Management.

Fast forward to my love life, I found myself with two weeks left in the United Kingdom. It dawned on me that I was in-love with this man with whom I have spent the last four months watching animes, editing academic papers late in the morning and due the very same day, cooking, doing dishes together, taking late night walks, enjoying hot choco and coffee at MacDonald at midnight and just being there for each other in developing our personal understanding of the world around us. When I came to the realization that I was in-love with him, I had two choices. Not knowing what his feelings towards me were, the first choice was to walk away and not change the nature of our relationship of being good friends. Again, curiosity and wanting to know his feelings towards me developed my second decision which was to tell him and hear what he had to say.  As I poured out my heart to the Lord, he encouraged me to go by faith. He would still be there fore me no matter the results. A week before my departure, I plugged up enough courage after dinner one evening and told him. I said, “I have something I need to tell you.” He said, “I have something I need to tell you.” “You go first” was what I said next. He goes “you go first.” So, I highlighted the fact that my feelings for him went beyond friendship. As I held my breath, he looked at me and said, “That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you.” A whole load was taken off my chest as he took me into his hands. Together, we both realized that we had been holding back our feelings for each other afraid of what the other might say. Hence, we never dared share them outloud. Another evidence of God’s plan was unfolded in our relationship.

Standing at the Manchester airport and not knowing when we would see each other again on January 24, 2015, we committed to a long distance relationship by faith. We called each other every night at 7p.m for an hour to talk, and it enabled us to maintain communication back and forth. Knowing the challenge to apply for a visa to Europe, my grandma Vreni asked me to visit her in Switzerland. I went to the Swiss Embassy and explained that I wanted to go and visit the woman who raised me. I mentioned to them that my grandma had lived 40 years in Cameroon and was known by the ambassador. They took my application forms and asked me to tell her to send a number of other documents. She did, and I obtained a visa. Joffrey and I met up at my grandma’s in June 2015, spent some time with her and my little brother in Germany before we flew to France. If God had not been there to guide every step of the visa process, I would not have made it to any place.

After the visit, it wasn’t till another 18 months apart that we saw each other again in Cameroon. By faith, we chatted every night and made plans for the future as if they were already there. Trusting in God’s unfailing promises and the plans he had for us, we lived our lives as if the trials didn’t exist. Finally in October 2016, Joffrey showed up in Cameroon, we travelled to the village, and he asked for my hand in marriage. At the end of the month, he travelled back to France, and we made plans for me to visit him in December 2016. Guess what? Visa time again!! What fun!!!

Already scared by what people had said about the French Embassy, I went down on my knees and prayed to God for guidance. I filled in my application form, brought in all the supporting documents and met the most amazing woman at the case. Contrary to what I had heard, this woman was supportive, encouraging and not intimidating in her manner of speaking. Although some documents needed to have been separated, she pointed it out with lots of advise rather than anger. At the end of the day, I got my visa and travelled.

Flash forward to 2019, I finally witnessed what people had told me three years prior. At the case this time, I met a very impatient woman who intimidated me in every way. After she understood that I was going to visit my husband’s family, she asked me if I was pregnant and the answer was yes. Her whole attitude changed, and she asked for more documents than was cited on the application form. She gave me less than a couple hours to obtain all those documents, if not my application would be rejected. Surprise!!! Even after I obtained the documents in due time, my visa was denied on May 27,2019. I looked at the empty passport in my hands and said “Lord, I don’t know what your plans are, but if your plan is for me to travel, then I will travel. Nobody will stop me from travelling.” In as much as I believed that God was in this and only his glory will shine against human devices, it still broke my heart to watch my mother-in-law and sister-in-law cry because we had not seen each other since our wedding.  All I could do was pray in my heart that God would make a way. Sure enough, he did.

Mom in France met a lady who gave her a number to another woman who worked in the court in her town. She called the lady, and she asked her to have me send all the required documents that had been asked of me. I did, and we just prayed and waited. Counting down weeks to our departure on June 30, 2019, we heard nothing from anyone. Still trusting that that I would travel if it was within God’s will, I sat in the house working when I received an unknown call on Monday June 25,2019. Sure enough, it was from the embassy and the lady asked me to bring my husband’s residence card within an hour. I highlighted to her that it was impossible for me to make it within that time frame, and if she could at least give me two hours. She said okay. A few minutes later, she called back and said I should instead come on Wednesday with my passport and obtain my visa. On Wednesday, I walked into the office with Joffrey and were asked to come back in a few hours to collect the passport. I came back and walked back out with a visa in it.

I had learnt to trust in God’s strength, will and might more than trusting in my own strength or in the strength of influential people. If God chose to use them, then it was his will not mine. From the moment we realized that there were people out there fighting on our behalf, I knew that God truly wasn’t asleep. No matter where I am or the situation that I find myself, I believed that God would be present. Many may not appreciate my honesty and heart for justice, but God in his holy place sees every heart and touches it as he sees fit.

I just wanted to share these foundations of faith because God’s plans are not ours, and he often looks at our hearts and our reactions to situations we believe we are right. Yet, he does not often let us have what we want when we think we ought to have it. I am glad to be a vessel he can use to manifest his power and justice. The journey of faith is not always easy, but it allows his others to know that God does not work according to our agenda. He works in his own time, and we need to learn to trust him and let him have his way even when we feel like we have missed the date line. God is sovereign always, and this is the Psalms I borrowed when I received the visa:

1 I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song in my mouth,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
    and put their trust in him. 

Psalms 40:1-3

There are more synopsis of faith in my life, but I have ran out of space.

How does your faith journey look like?

He Does Hear You

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This may seem very random, but I couldn’t just let it pass. Four years ago, I returned home from Kenya after four years of absence, on transit to the UK. When Sunday came along, I got up early in the morning, had my devotions and asked God to protect us all the way to church and back home again.

After my devotions, I took a shower, dressed up, made breakfast and waited for the others to wake up. When they finally woke up, they told me that they were not going to church. A little thought of disappointment creeped inside my head and heart, but I shook it off. I had my breakfast, took some taxi money and left. Back then, the International Christian Church (ICC) was held at the Hilton Hotel down town. Hence, I told the driver to drop me off there.

At Korong, right before we went up to Mvog Mbi,  a young man in another car decided to make a U-turn where he shouldn’t in front of us. Our driver, who was a young university student viaed the car to the left to escape, and then to the right. Yet we still collided with the other car. The other car’s driver’s side was chattered into bits, but our car came off with a little scratch.

With all the strength within, I got out with a bruced head, paid the driver his full fare and took another taxi to church. After church, I came home, took medication for a fever that was speedily rising, as well as a thumping head and cried myself to sleep. Two hours later, I woke up, sat on my bed and reflected over the morning’s events. I realized then that God had heard my prayer. He took me safely to church and brought me back home.

What if I had not asked him to protect and watch over me throughout that day? Would he have done so? Did those in the taxi spend time with him that morning? Did I save those people’s lives through my trust and faith in God?

One thing I know that has repeated itself over and over in my life, is the way God answers prayers. He chooses to answer our prayers in his timing. It doesn’t mean that we should give up going to him.

Early this morning, the image of that day popped into my heard, as well as this question “Did God spare our car because I was inside? Did I save those people’s lives, because I had laid my day at his feet?”

Can you share those marvelous moments when God came through for you?

BETTER IS ONE DAY WITH YOU. PSALM 84

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As I watched the light seep through my thin curtains announcing the arrival of another new day, my first thought was to spend time with my heavenly father.  Looking over my busy week , I realized that I had not spent enough time with him. My famous friend, guilt, tried to play his part, but I said no thank you. In that instant, i took my Bible and bowed my head to say thank you to my heavenly father who had watched over my insane week and had given me strength to accomplish all i had had on my schedule,  plus a few surprises.  After appreciating his presence with me, I asked him to speak to me, because I wanted to hear his voice and to give him my time. Not letting my past insane week where I barely spent time in his word get to me, I opened my Bible to continue through the Psalms. In answer to my prayer, I read Psalm 84, one of my favorites.  The first two verses served as a great reminder for us to build that deep relationship with God. Rather than fear going to his presence,  we should look forward to spending time with him. Throughout my high school years, I cherished a song based off this Psalm where I would sing with tears streaming down my face. I knew that only in God’s presence would I find peace, love and understanding.  I wanted a relationship with him, which put my whole life in his hands. I preferred to be an outcast, loner than be with people who gossiped, put others down, disregard other’s opinions and took advantage of others and expected me to do the same. I preferred to be a door-keeper in God’s house than to live in a mansion built from dishonest gain. Reading through this Psalms brought back those memories and I realized I did build my relationship with him. He is the same one I met 12 years ago and has remained faithful till today. He has been my sun and shield and has bestowed favor and honor on me. He has not withheld any good thing from me and I will continue to walk in his ways no matter how many times I fall. I get stronger every time I fall.

Although sometimes he gives me the silent treatment,  I know in my heart that he wants to teach me to trust in him. What I want or request may not be in his timing,  hence it enables me to trust in his timetable not mine. Often times it’s hard to know whether he is listening, but we have got to develop that habit of trust and wait upon the Lord to see us through. It gets a little frustrating sometimes,  but don’t give up trusting in him. Yearn for him and sit in front of his door to let him know that you can only do things through his strength and not yours.  Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.