Dearest Diary,

How Can such a Tiny thing be so much Trouble?

Dearest diary,

They say that an apple does not fall far from the tree. However, I am not sure how true that is for my life. You see, my mother's life is not half as dramatic as mine and little Briella is on a whole different plane. A mix of mine and Monica's genes in one little person is bound to be explosive and that can never be a good thing.

Hopefully she will turn out better. Not like me, who is always gravitating towards drama and getting into trouble despite my very conscious efforts to the contrary.

It's sad really, since my life is beginning to resemble a cliche soap opera. It may look good on T.V, but it's really ugly in real life.

............................................................................................................

"Where are you going?"

"Church," I respond packing some snacks for my daughter Bri. Ever since that day several weeks ago, we've not missed a single Sunday and she enjoys going to church immensely. I think it's because of her good friend Tim and also becsuse of the great Sunday school that they have there.

"With Bri?" My mum asks, looking at the pink knapsack in my hand.

"Yes, she goes to Sunday school." I respond zipping up the bag.

"This early?"

I nod.

"If you like, you can always tag along. It will help with your curiosity." I tell her.

"You're actually serious?" she deadpans and I nod again.

"Fine.Wait here. I'll go get your sister." she tells me, walking off just as Maggie bounds in carrying an excited Bri in her arms.

"I'm Smurfette!" Bri tells me twirling in a white Smurf inspired dress and matching pumps.

"Of course you are." I reply grinning from ear to ear. Her fervour is very infectious.

"Are we going with daddy? I want to show him Sunday school and Tim."

"I'm sure he'll be more than happy to join you." I tell her smiling despite the little tiff that we had last night, all thanks to Shea and her big mouth.

"Great. I'll call him." she says pulling Maggie towards the house phone. I am honestly relieved that I wasn't the one made to do that. Otherwise it would've been a very awkward telephone conversation.

I go back to my ministrations busying myself with Bri's carseat and before long, everyone except from Maggie is packed inside Bridget ready to be driven to church.

"Remind me again.Why on earth did you have to wake me up at this ungodly hour?" Shea complains directing her words towards our mum. She lets out a yawn and rubs her brown eyes which are still full of sleep, the effects of watching Netflix till three o'clock in the morning and waking up four hours later.

"Church." My mother responds sternly.

"Why do we have to go to church at 7:30 am?"

"To see my boyfriend!" Bri proclaims boldly and I smirk at the expression of Troy sputtering in the back seat beside her.

"I think you mean friend, Briella." he corrects her kindly.

"Nope. Tim is my boyfriend. We are going to get married one day! See, I have a ring!" she replies showing off a pink plastic band.

"Attara!" Troy growls at me and I groan. I swear this girl will be the death of me. All those Barbie princess movies were bound to come back and bite me on my behind someday. It happens, that that day is today. I chance a look through the rear view mirror and my eyes lock on dark emarld orbs, very angry and looking for an explanation. I guess, learning that your four year old daughter is engaged to a guy named Tim is not the greatest news on a bright Sunday morning.

"I'm driving. Can we have this conversation later?"

He doesn't respond. That in itself tells me that he stewing inside, probably thinking that I sold off our daughter to the highest bidder. Monica would love that. All the more reason to chew me out and call me a golddigger. I finally pull Bridget into the church parking lot and David comes out to meet us.

He's early, but then again, this is David and he's one, very devoted christian.

"David!" Briella bounds up from the car and jumps into David's arms in excitement.

"Hello David." I greet him too, but with a hug. A throat clears behind us and I turn to find Troy glaring at my back.

"What?" I snap, my patience finally wearing thin.

"We need to talk. You're not driving now,"

I groan as I throw my hands up in frustration.

"For heaven's sake, Tim is only Five, or is it four. They are not about to elope and get married now, are they?"

"He's four?" he asks rather dumbly.

"How old did you think he was? Fifty? Of course he is four!" Troy turns to David for a confirmation and David nods in agreement, amused at the subject of our arguement.

"Just to be sure, we're talking about Tim, right?"

I click my tongue in irritation and lock Bridget before stomping up the stairs in anger.

Why again, did I agree to bring them? I'm so sure that church is not meant for the angry or unforgiving and that's about every emotion, that I am feeling right now. Since we are early, I find a row of seats near the front and settle down waiting for the rest of my party.

"What was that about?" I look up to see David settling in the seat to my right, with Bri still in his arms.

"Apparently, that thing you're holding there is engaged and now Troy thinks that I sold our daughter off to the highest bidder."

David guffaws and bursts out laughing.

"Tim?"

I nod.

"She even has an engagement ring." I add joining in the laughter.

Come to think of it, it's really funny, especially Troy's reaction to the whole thing.

"How can such a tiny thing be so much trouble?" I ask when I recover from my violent fit of laughter.

"If she's anything like her mum, she'll always be trouble." Troy says taking the seat to my left and I turn to him with a frown.

"You mean a golddigger?" His face scrunches up in confusion and I look away, not bothering to enlighten him.

"What do you mean by that?" he hisses beside me.I open my mouth to retort, but David shakes his head at me.

"This is neither the place nor the time." he tells me softly. I nod my head at him and train my eyes at the alter, ignoring Troy and his eyes that are searing my sides in anger and whole lot of confusion.

"So how have you been?" David whispers beside me.

"Fine mostly and a little too busy, but I did find time to go through that proposal. I was hoping that we could meet after this to discuss it?"

"That can be arranged." he replies and I can't help but feel like I have intruded on something.

"Did you have something else planned for after church?" I ask my concern showing. I really value our relationship and I wouldn't want to intrude on his personal time.

"I did, but I will reschedule it." he replies with a reassuring smile. The praise and worship team arrive at the exact moment and we cease our conversation to concentrate on the program ahead.

"I just remembered that I am meant to ask you something." I tell David, rising up with the rest of the congregation to worship.

"What?" he replies.

"This born again thing. How do you do that?"

He looks down at me and smiles.

"I believe that's another name for salvation."

"It is?"

"The Bible says in Romans Ten- Nine, that if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe with your heart that God saved him from the dead, then you will be saved."

"Mmm?" I respond thoughtfully. "It's as simple as that?"

"Yes, there is no ceremony to it. Most churches just lead you through a simple prayer of repentance and asking Jesus into your heart. But basically, if you confess and believe it, you're saved, it doesn't matter where you are."

"I believe. I may not have been confessing it, but I am planning to change that."

"But you have." David insists. "Everytime you pray that prayer at the end of the service, or everytime time you sincerely pray or worship Jesus, you're admitting his Lordship over your life and vulnerability as a human."

"I guess so." I reply shrugging my shoulders. "It's just that sometimes I don't feel so Christlike. Sometimes my mouth or my thoughts run away with me and I find myself doing things that...I don't even know how to put it."

"I understand. We all go through that sometimes, but I think, in trying to be perfect just like Christ is, we also have to realise that we are works in progress. Don't let it weigh you down so much. Instead, focus on Jesus, do your best and he will take you where you need to be." I nod, thinking deeply on those words. "I'll send you some scriptures. You can read through them and hopefully you'll understand what I am talking about."

I nod again, my mind going to that prayer.

Bwana Yesu, Nisamehe dhambi zangu, Nawasamehe wote walionikosea. Futa jina langu kwenye kitabu cha kifo na uliandike kwenye kitabu cha uzima wa milele. Ishi ndani yangu na unijaze na nguvu zako za Roho mtakatifu. Asante Kristo maana nimeokoka na Kuamini. Amen.

Translation:

Lord Jesus, Forgive my sins. I forgive those who have sinned against me. Erase my name from the book of death and write it in the book of everlasting life. Welcome into my heart and fill me with me with your Holy Spirit. Thank you Christ because I am now saved and I believe. Amen.