19th August, 2025.
1:28 Am.
Thika, Kenya.
Dear Jesus,
You have forgiven me fully. It doesn’t feel like it a times.
You know us, You know me fully and chose to forgive me, and to offer Yourself to me. It’s amazing!
Lord I thank You that forgiving others has become a bit easier. At least at this hour I find it manageable to offer this gift to others. It often is a battle within self. A bloody affair , a messy battle ground. It is rewarding none the less. Thank you for this gift!
That said , I move to this hard ground. How am I to go about forgiving myself Lord? That is so hard tonight. It’s painful. It is near impossible.
For the hurt I have caused, and the pain I have rendered? I shudder when I remember the times I wielded the sword that caused hurt and death! Chipping at the very soul of others!
I mourn the relationships I have tossed aside by my choices. I weep over the damage done by my words, some rash others not!
What about the shame I have brought on myself? I force myself to sit in the cinema and watch the screen. Displayed are scenes of shameful things I have done. Things I have said that I would give the world to take back! Lord I loathe myself for these times where I failed to go about with poise and swagger!
What of the days when I was quick to give negative feedback and mean with praise? What of times I relished chipping away at another rather than building them up? In many ways my hands have been the very instruments of sorrow!
What of the days when my outfits were off and I was oblivious. What of times I failed to show up with glamour and chic? What of these?
What of days when I was impatient with those who around me were simple and just too slow?
What of the trauma I failed to notice or acknowledge in my self absorption and sense of uppity?
What of ….
On nights like this I stay up and cringe and speak harsh words to myself. I lecture myself and damn myself to the bottom of hell. Words You would never have me use on anyone.Words You would not have me harbour in my heart. Words You would never use on me.
I have words and thoughts that diminish me the more and it hurts deeply and keenly. It bleeds and it is sore, this heart of mine is. I am indeed my own worst critic and indomitable foe!
Help me offer Your son grace Lord. Help me offer him love and forgiveness as You have offered me freely and as I have offered others readily.
Lord, teach me to be careful with him. To give him grace and the benefit of care. To offer him incense and give him honey. Dishing him huge portions of meat and delicacy at the table of forgiveness and healing. For from that table he can stand and experience your love even more
May I remember that in time past he did what seemed best to him. I pray not to judge his demeanor and choices based on the resources and knowledge I have now.
Now I know better and try to do better, he did not.
I pray to let go of the mistakes, ridicule, shame, pain and judgement I have amassed over the years on myself.
I would like to trust that even those are material for sacrifice. Everything is material for sacrifice if given to you. To be used for good and to be worked out for good.
So , Lord I thank you that I can say this with relief!
“Dear young and clueless Kamau, angry, hurt and misled teenage Kamau, spontaneous, bubbly and reckless early twenties Kamau. Even you, mid twenties one who is unfolding before my eyes.
Kamau who has been hurt and has caused hurt, some deep and maybe life long.
Kamau who has been foolish and unwise. The one who has been mean and selfish. The one who has been shameless and slothful. That one who has been awkward and fidgety. To you Kamau who has been a human being and not a flawless deity.
I want to love you and accept even the unpleasant parts too, as you were then and as you are now and as you are growing to!
Jesus loves you,Jesus forgives you.I forgive you too, rise up and lift your head. We have a yet arduous journey ahead!”
Thank you Jesus!
Sincerely,
Your son Kamau Ndichu.
