Kum Ba Yah

Old City taken from the top of the Tower of David

I went for a walk in the Old City of Jerusalem yesterday and landed up in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and fell into the line to enter where Jesus’ tomb lies. Coming out from the tomb I noticed a huge painting which I studied in confusion. A Russian orthodox who works there came up to me so that I could ask him –

‘Whose the lady sitting on the throne?’


‘And whose the man sitting on her left?’

‘It’s Jesus’

‘But he has a head on his lap!’

‘That’s John the Baptists’

‘And whose the baby on Mary’s lap?’

‘That’s Jesus’

‘And what’s the crown floating above Mary’s head?’

‘That’s Mary’s because she’s the highest of all’

What the flip.

He took me on a personal tour and showed me a door that led underground to one of the first churches. I found that the most interesting and asked if we could go down. He said he doesn’t hold the key and only prominent church leaders are allowed. I asked what they do down there but he wasn’t sure.

Last night Yeshua gave me a song to sing in Swahili. I don’t know Swahili but I pray and sing tongues in Swahili.

Omundungole tulenununga kombanako

Komana kubuluta

Lenda gunumo humbaga kumba

Suna nunga lelula

Humbadushe nduva kovuna

Kumbosuna kombana

Kumbokuledela sole fa





Lion Of Judah

I love sirens. In May I took a ride in an ambulance at a speed of up to 90mph in a 50 zone, from a town in Essex to Queen’s Hospital in Romford. Every other time I’ve been in an ambulance I’ve been captive. This time I felt like part of the crew. I had called 999 as my elderly client’s hand had gone numb. The paramedics arrived in 8 minutes and her BP was 194.

After I left my assignment I had a break inbetween to fit in pampering appointments and play my first game of golf in the UK, with an ex-farmer from Zimbabwe who lost his farm during the land invasions.

And my ILR permit for the UK arrived so I could finally book my flight to Israel.

I am now in an assignment just outside Salisbury for a lady who lived in Israel for some of her youth, as her father was a Colonel in the British Army during the British Mandate after the Balfour Declaration.

It was from here that I went to my visa appointment at the Israeli Consulate in London. As I’m a Zimabawean. The official who did my security check remarked that few white people are from Zimbabwe. I proudly told him that my Great-Great granny was of Jewish heritage. Their surname was changed from Roth to Reid to hide their identity.

As a married woman she went to Botswana as a missionary, as well as my other Great-Great granny from Prussian nobility who went as a missionary wife to Matabeleland. And eventually their son and daughter married eachother. I told him too that the Queen of Sheba was from Zimbabwe.

I didn’t tell him that I’m madly in love with the greatest man alive who was born a Jew. And that He has asked me to go (Kiss Catchers post).

My visa came a week later. And now I have butterflies in my tummy.

It’s the anticipation. It reminds me of when I was in Std 1 at Riverside Primary School in Gweru and a popular boy from Std 5 asked me to kiss him on the field when it’s the break time. I had to put my hand on his open palms like it were the bible and promise I would. I must have sat through class anxious that the school bell would ring because I then chickened out on the field.

And now I’m tiptoe-ing to the field.

Not too long ago I was boldly chasing after Yeshua – swearing things like if He doesn’t come get me ‘I’ll buy a box of cigarettes and stick one between each finger and smoke them altogether’ – the worst threat I could come up with when I was in Victoria Falls (Arrest Jesus post).

And then in May last year after posting On The Hunt, I was sitting all alone on the patio at Wood Fire in Stockbridge, having a brandy and smoking a cigar, which fortunately I had just put out.

When He showed up.

I instantly recognised Him like I’ve always known Him. He looked like He had just stepped off the page of a men’s style magazine. His shoulder length hair flowing as he strided towards me. His eyes were wild and His smile told a story. I felt like a giddy school girl. But then He turned and pulled out a chair a few feet away at a table to the side of me. I was facing towards the road and I could feel He was watching me – knowing I’m too chicken to look at Him. He is the most handsome man I have ever seen. You couldn’t possibly compare Him to anyone. He is God. And I know this because I was awestruck. It is His Glory. I could sense it. He is indescribable! Captivating! My heart was pounding. I was fighting so hard not to collapse. I know now that I couldn’t stand in His presence and not fall at His feet. My heart was on fire with burning love that I could hardly contain. And then after about a long minute, He calmly said ‘Go now’.

He had come to rescue me. Nothing is impossible for Him (Matthew 19 : 26)). I think I had got myself into big trouble ‘down the rabbit’s hole’ by breaking all the rules. But I didn’t know what the rules were. I was only told by one of the managers at Royal Livingstone that there are rules in the spirit world as I was being cheeky.

Hence all my arrests.

When I was at Royal Livingstone Hotel in Zambia in October 2017, I was sitting on the veranda eating breakfast. When a dark presence came from behind me – locking me down and making it difficult for me to keep my knife and fork steady to eat my egg and bacon. I pretended it wasn’t effecting me – clinging to my spirit to ward it off. I stood up after to turn and look the enemy straight in the eye, to let him know I mean war. And sitting there on his own is the bloke who ‘rules the top of the map’.

It’s not my fault I saw him. I didn’t even want to be there. I had no idea how I fell into that world in the first place – with no warning that it even existed. But my Abba Father sent me for a purpose. I guess his father sent him as well.

I was in that world for just over nine months. I think there is a time limit there which I way exceeded. I don’t know how it works – so I didn’t know how to get out. But anyhow I’m a highly trained professional something now – I’m not sure what. I wished I was a proper journalist and knew what my assignment was. And had a PA to help me be better organised. Then I would have had a full blown story. I am a brilliant actress though. And I’m so brave because that was so flipping scary sometimes. I wish it for no-one I like, except I don’t know who I like anymore. Maybe John Eldredge – and I’ll start my list from there because he really knows Yeshua.

Yeshua has asked me to go to Israel except I put a condition on it – that He must chase me this time. But now I’m worrying He will. Because I wrote ‘to play kiss catchers’ and those were my words not His and He is clearly reading my blog and might take me up on the offer. Since I was the one hunting Him and He caught me off guard at Wood Fire.

I’m just going to float on the sea – swim with dolphins – get pampered – explore – mind my own business.

And if He does arrive unannounced again – He has to take me with Him this time.

Else I will shoot Him.

With my camera.






Out Of Africa


When I was 16 my mum took me to the movies to watch Out Of Africa.  After that I wanted to be Karen Blixen’s successor.  I loved her house – adventure – bravery.  The romance and the music.

My life never quite turned out that way.

Except that Yeshua has given me a phenomenal gift – I speak fluent Swahili when I pray in tongues.

I’m heading off to Israel as soon as my UK residence permit comes through the post. Until then I have to wait to play kiss catchers with Yeshua. (Blog Kiss Catchers)

I continue as the pawn on the chess board.  With Yeshua as the King.

My latest assignments have been to a Jewish lady in Hampstead whose son is a judge.  Where I learnt how to keep Kosher.  I then returned to a client in Hertfordshire whose stepson is great friends with MP Iain Duncan Smith.  After that I went to a job in Berkhamstead to a Freemason who used to be a vet.

On one of my days off I went into London to watch Tolkien at the Curzon in Victoria Street.  On Christmas Eve back in 2014 I had watched Hobbits with my daughter there when she came on her first visit to the UK.  And where I watched Mary Poppins Returns on Christmas Eve 2018 alone.

Prior to watching Tolkien, I went to lunch at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant on Victoria Street.  I was expecting silver service but instead was rebuked for moving tables to a station they weren’t serving.  I moved because the table next to me was too noisy and my head was pounding.

On paying my bill I hesitantly asked for a proper explanation as to why I wasn’t allowed to sit where I chose.  I had previously been arrested at Real Greek Restaurant, Bournemouth with the excuse that I was ‘disturbing the peace’ when I was actually arguing my bill with the arrogant manager who was disturbing my peace. (Blog Because I’m Worth It).  But then this was during the nine months I was sent undercover down the rabbit’s hole to spot all the mad hatters.

Jamie’s burger was the best I have had and then a week later Jamie’s restaurants closed.

I then had a few days inbetween assignments which gave me the chance to vote for the EU Parliament.  I knew I was going to vote for Nigel Farage but couldn’t find his name on the ballot paper and confirmed with my dad that he was UKIP.  I almost swore after when I realised he was Brexit Party.  Perhaps they could just rub it out.  If Zimbabwe used pencils they wouldn’t have to intimidate voters.

I’m now on an assignment in Essex having taken over a job from a Ndebele lady from Zimbabwe.

Abba is a great story teller.






In 2009 I went to Kedesh Orphanage, Beira Mozambique with my daughter.  It was part of my outreach after my YWAM DTS at Media Village in Fish Hoek, Cape Town.  We were supposed to go to Uganda but I chose my own solo mission.  My leader, Kobus Mouton was so infuriated but I went any way.

Then poor John Wickes who ran the orphanage had to put up with me for a whole month.  I was mostly out amongst the villages on a mission with my daughter.  We had made little colourful bead bracelets with a label reading ‘tu est moito bonita’ – you are very beautiful.  Which we gave to little girls in the village.  And took lots of photos.  Always having a group of orphans sent by John to follow us from a distance to make sure we were safe.


Kiss Catchers


Jesus has invited me to Israel.

We are two pieces left on a chess board.

He is the King and I am His pawn.

The first match begun on the 9th September 2017.

1/ABBA Father put His pawn across the railway line which crosses White Hart Lane, Barnes.

His evil opponent quickly snatched Abba’s pawn off the board.  Thinking Abba wouldn’t notice – but He did.  And sent His troops to fetch her back.

2/ABBA then put His pawn on the Kenya Airways flight at terminal 5, Heathrow, 8th October 2017 and sent her to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe.

3/ABBA walked His pawn across the bridge to the Royal Livingstone Hotel, Zambia on the 11th October 2017.

4/On the 15th October 2017 ABBA brought His pawn back to Victoria Falls and put her on a bus and sent her to Troutbeck, Nyanga.

ABBA’s opponent tipped his king and resigned from the game.

Nine months later on the 1st July 2018, Abba brought her back from the other side of the railway line.  

A rematch begun on the 3rd December 2019 between ABBA and player B.

And when I get across the board to where the evil king is – I get to play kiss catchers with Jesus.

1/ABBA put His pawn at the Barclay household.  No relation to the Barclay twins who own Breqhou Island.

2/ABBA put His pawn in Hammersmith, at Vanessa Redgrave’s old house next door to where the brother of the Barclay twins once lived.  His pawn was in Hammersmith exactly seven years earlier on an assignment with Douglas Hurd.

3/ABBA moved His pawn to Winchester exactly seven months after she escaped and abandoned her client’s car at Winchester University.

4/ABBA moved His pawn up to Westminster to work for a South African Jew.  It was during the vote on the BRexit deal in mid-January this year.

Then He gave me 16 days off to go to my court hearing – write my Life in the UK test – have my wisdom tooth out and do my English test.

5/ABBA moved His pawn across to Cambridge on the 13 February to the same job she was in exactly two years ago when her Psst! Article was first written for Matador U.  

Where I found a knitted hippo in my bedroom drawer made in Zimbabwe by a shamwari called Laizah, who knits for Gogo Olive and who chose to call her mvuu (hippo in Shona) – KIM.  And nobody knows who left it there.

During  my Hammersmith assignment, I had Christmas off and checked into the Premier Hub in Westminster on Christmas Eve, with a bad cold and spent Christmas Day dosing myself with brandy – lemon and honey.

I had to cancel a lunch invitation and spent my first Christmas alone.  Sherlock Holmes was fully booked so I walked over the footbridge towards the London Eye.

There was a man kneeling on the ground at South Bank, switching a ball under three cups with great speed.  He had a wad of cash in his hand.  People were betting to guess which cup the ball was under.  It was so obvious where it was but the players were getting it wrong and losing their money.

I went and drew £50 and went in with a guy as the bet was up to £200.  We both agreed which cup the ball was under and he had his foot on top to prove it.  The cup was lifted and the ball was missing.  A man standing behind me told me not to play as they are all friends and he steals the ball from under the cup.  I walked off in shock and burst into tears.  Deception is so evil.

There were two similar groups on the way to Westminster Bridge – I stopped to observe their feeble acting.  It’s clear whose who in the zoo when you take your eye off the ball.

I asked one of the gang leaders where he was from and he said Torchia.  I had never heard of Torchia and asked if that was below Russia.  He had never heard of Russia and disappeared into the crowd.

To end off Christmas I sat at the Blue Boar Smokehouse eating a hamburger and reading the whiskey labels in front of me – Dalmore whiskey I knew since I had a job with Mrs McKenzie in 2012, who used to own it.  And  Johnny Walker’s Blue and Black reminded me of a bottle of  Johnny Walker’s White Label, I saw at the pool bar of Victoria Fall’s Kingdom Hotel on Christmas Day last year.

At my Westminster job I asked a policeman on the street outside parliament if he knew about the gambling that goes on at South Bank.  He did and I told him that they tricked me and I lost £50 on Christmas Day.  He asked me why I would be playing that on Christmas Day.   I asked him why they can’t stop them and he told me it’s because the gang make a lot of money doing it and warn each other before the police get there – even if they are undercover.  While they are openly committing a crime of deception?

On finishing my job I caught the 87 bus to Clapham on the wrong side of the road and ended up in Aldwych.  I walked to a bus stop at Trafalgar Square and stoodby as Theresa May drove passed in her silver grey Jaguar with blue bumper lights flashing.

I then had a small claims court hearing before District Judge Trigg at the County Court in Guildford, claiming my outstanding invoice from Rachel Townsend, as housekeeper for her father.  She was counter-claiming for eight days parking fines and nine days storage at William’s Garage, Winchester after I parked her father’s car in the staff parking lot at Winchester University and left my job during a call to escape.

I was arrested for this (Because I’m Worth It blog post).  In my interview at the Basingstoke police station I was told, together with my solicitor, Richard Dawes from Taylor Street Solicitors LLP, that the car had been stolen and spotted in Wales.

At my court hearing I challenged the £330 storage fee because if it had been stolen and was being held for forensic investigation – there are no charges during this time.  But Rachel Townsend disagreed that it was stolen and Judge Trigg wanted proof that it was.  So I have written to Michael Lane, the police commissioner at Basingstoke, asking him for that in writing.  Because police don’t lie.

The photo prints Rachel Townsend submitted, were to prove that I had damaged the car and owed them £745.20, for an old ding on the front bumper.  This was there prior to me starting the job and is probably why they won’t submit a claim to their insurance company.  The car looks like it has been cropped out and superimposed to show it was at a garage.

I was also asked to pay £20 for cleaning the inside of the car.  The photo print shows a clear bag with green ‘slush’ in and a clear lunch box with food in.  Neither of which I’d seen before.  I told the judge who immediately shut me up.  But I’m still so curious.  I can see my jeans on the seat together with my black jacket.  But I only got my jacket returned.  And Rachel denies seeing my jeans.

It’s my birthday tomorrow.  I wanted to spend it in Israel but instead I have to stay in the UK as my ancestry visa is about to expire and I must remain whilst my ILR visa is being processed.

I am going as far north of England that I can go without a passport.

Orkney Islands.

My Great-great grandmother, Elizabeth Hepburn nee Reid was born in Westray, Okney in 1843.   She married James D Hepburn, who studied at the London Missionary Society.  They journeyed to Africa in the 1870’s to be Khama III’s (Botswana) missionaries for 25 years.

Their son, Tom Hepburn married Erica Helm who was the daughter of my Great-great grandparents, Rev Charles Helm who had also studied at the London Mission Society and who married Elisabet von Puttkamer, a Prussian noblewoman.  They served King Lobengula as missionaries in Matabeleland in the Mid 1800’s.

With amazing courage they travelled to Africa by ship and then through the wild African bush for six months by ox wagon with their babies, so that they could teach the gospel to tribal kings and their people.  They learnt their language too.  Their long and brave journey made it possible for me to be born in Zimbabwe but I wish I could have been as brave and adventurous as them.

I know King Jesus, the God of Heaven and earth is so wild and beautiful and I think He should choose the whole of Africa to rule and since it is already joined to Israel – He might as well take the whole lot. I think Headquaters should be in Zimbabwe aka Teapot Land.  Then He could have the waterfalls and mighty rivers and all the elephants and lions too.  And all the jewels.

He owns it all anyway – so He can decide.

And make it all new.

He’ll stand upon a rock overlooking Victoria Falls and roar – and His mighty Angel army will respond to His call.

And anyone who has hurt His lioness or her cubs – Eish!

Exodus 15 vs 13 “the LORD is a warrior; the LORD is his name”

Deuteronomy 32 vs 35
Vengeance is Mine, and recompense; their foot shall slip in due time; for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things to come hasten upon them.

Matthew 10 vs 34
Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth.  I did not come to bring peace but a sword.



My Great great grandparents grave stone at Hope Fountain Mission in Matopos, Bulawayo

I remember being so fed up with my life in Mafikeng back in 2006 that I decided to lie in bed and waste away.  It truly was a powerful feeling – to give up.  I had no money and the job I had to build a client’s website had just fallen through.

But then I decided to give God a chance to test my faith.  I stood up and faced the day and got my five year old daughter, Dakota ready for her nursery school in town.

My car didn’t start.  I walked over to the nearby store and found someone to come over to my plot and jump start it.   But the engine was making a terrible sound as well.

That evening I returned home soaring.

I got a new battery for free.
I was given ZAR2000 so I could fix my engine problem and have spare for groceries and the rest of the week.
My daughter was given a place at the International School.
I received the deposit for a place to rent in town.
My order for Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge arrived in the bookstore.

I lay in the bath that night and read the entire book through to early the next morning.

And two days later my client decided to choose my quote after all for designing her website.

Two years later I left Mafikeng to return to Zimbabwe, wanting to write stories and take photographs for a blog, showing that God is alive in Zimbabwe and give Him glory.  I wanted to be a missionary following in my Great-great grandfather’s footsteps (Back to our roots post).

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

Many years later and Jesus has told me He will get me a care job through Universal Aunts and that I must go to Israel on the 12th December 2018.   It has been six weeks and I only have 25 days left.  Although the agency knows I am available – I still wait.  Perhaps Universal Aunts aren’t being obedient to the God who owns heaven and earth or Jesus is being playful.

Since I did walk out of my care job from them on the 9th September 2017, leaving BBC’s ex, Michael Peacock in Barnes on the loo and had the fire engine and police arrive instead of the paramedics, in April 2018 at my job from Miracle Workers  while looking after Timmy Edward’s (RTT, SA) mother in Cardiff (On the hunt post ) and parked Colin Stevenson’s car in May 2018, a professor specialising in post war PTSD, doing a private job for him in Nether Wallop, which was then stolen (Because I’m worth it post ) – court case pending due to suing his daughter Rachel Townsend  for my outstanding invoice.

So who dares employ me?

After walking out on Michael Peacock I bought a one way ticket back to Zimbabwe on the 8th October 2017, to become a full time missionary in Victoria Falls.   I stayed at Shearwater Lodge in Victoria Falls for two nights and then walked over the border to the Royal Livingstone Hotel in Livingstone Zambia, expecting to have a real encounter with Jesus and my mission would take off from there.  Except presidents stay at this hotel and in faith I used all the money I had for my mission, on US$350 per night accommodation for five days and left my suitcase with my food supplies to a school in Simonga village, where I had shown the Jesus Film in July last year.

I then went back over the border to the Victoria Falls Hotel to find my cell phone, which I left by mistake in the loo the day I went across to Zambia and asked them to charge it for me.  I left my suitcase in the luggage room and went for a swim in their pool, then popped down to the Lookout cafe for a hamburger which I ate it in faith and told them after I would have to find some way to pay.

Walking along the path through the bush back to the hotel, I met some guys selling curios.   Peace showed me his wooden carving of a group of elephants which were beautiful.  He asked me how much I thought he should sell it for and I said US$40.  I told him I can’t buy it though as I had no money.  He then told me how they were all struggling to feed their families – I burst into tears and offered to buy them groceries in faith from the TM grocery store for $40.

We filled the trolley with what he needed and when it came to paying – my bank card was still blank.  No fish and loaves miracle.  So we abandoned the trolley and went to fetch my suitcase and Peace walked with me for an hour to my cousin, Michael Thorne’s holiday home.

He owns numerous veterinary surgeries in the UK plus a helicopter and in July last year, when I visited him in Victoria Falls on my Jesus Film Project mission, he offered me his home as a base for my future mission.

But on arriving I was met by strangers staying there.  And before entering, my phone rang – the Lookout cafe were asking me to pay before they closed up for the day.  I phoned Robert, a pastor I met in July last year who had helped me hire a hall to show the Jesus Film.  He had also taken me to the municipality to put my name down for land I wanted to buy once I had gone back to the UK to do some care work and saved up to build a small rondawel on a plot.  He works at ZB Bank and I asked him if he could loan me $16 to pay the Lookout Cafe – I phoned Pride, my taxi driver and asked him to fetch Robert and collect me.  Peace came with to be dropped off in town and Robert and I went into pay.  He gave me $20 and allowed me to keep the change and he paid Pride for the taxi.

The next morning Michael sent me a frantic whatsapp from the UK asking me where I was – I told him I was lying in his bed and he told me that I couldn’t stay there and to go back to the UK and he would pay my flight.  I told him Heidi Baker bought a one way ticket to Mozambique arriving without hardly any money and I was doing the same.

In July last year I had travelled up in my parent’s car which then broke down in Gweru and again in Zambia, so I bought a new gearbox to be fitted at Levi’s workshop in Victoria Falls – four months later and it still wasn’t repaired – I’m still waiting.

So I had to walk to Elephant Hills carrying my golf clubs and stopped at the Seven Eleven shop for sanitary pads as my periods had started that morning using $2 out of my $4 .   A taxi driver stopped alongside me and offered me a free lift and took me into town – I said I would walk the rest which is 4 kms out of town and he told me I couldn’t because of elephant – by this time being trampled by an elephant was the least of my worries so he took me all the way.

Without the $10 to play golf I left my bag at the clubhouse and walked the course instead.  On reaching the 9th hole I sat under a tall acacia tree and got another whatsapp from Michael moaning how he had to pay my daughter’s term fees for Peterhouse boarding school back in January 2016 when I had cancer – even though he had offered.  It certainly didn’t sound like his tone and I was so fed up by this stage I just wrote – whatever. 

I sat upstairs at the hotel bar overlooking the course sipping my last coke and on leaving was met outside by Surprise,  a taxi driver who had taken me to Langton’s shop in Monde Village in April last year to show the Jesus film.  He offered me a free lift to Michael’s and I burst into tears along the way telling him no-one loves me except Jesus and my kids.

The next morning I took my tent and rucksack plus a bag of mielie meal; bully beef and some candles from Michael’s pantry to stay with Tafadzwa, the receptionist at Zambezi National Park for the night, who cooked me crocodile for supper.  With no money I decided to travel to Troutbeck to sell my car that I had lent to the Hallowes.  The next night Tafadzwa paid for my bus fare to Harare and on the way to the bus rank I went back to my cousin’s house to fetch my suitcase and leave his house keys but Forget, the gardener had locked the gate and gone off.

The next morning I arrived in Harare and stayed at my cousin, Val Martin’s for a few days before travelling with a friend, Natalie Hallowes to Nyanga.  I stayed for a couple of weeks in the house my parent’s once stayed in as caretakers for John Bredenkamp – part of Zimbabwe’s cartel.  I packed up their furniture which had been left for two years after they settled in the UK.

On travelling through to Harare the day after Robert Mugabe’s resignation – to auction my late Granny’s silver – I took a wrong turn and ended up at the State House only to be overtaken by an entourage moving Mugabe out of office to his residence.  Had I been a professional  journalist  – I could have recorded his departure.

Later  I sent my granny’s antique furniture by train from Mutare to Victoria Falls to set up a base for me there only to leave it there and be brought back to the UK by my mother (Arrest Jesus post).

I feel like I have been human trafficked.  What am I doing in the UK and what is it about Victoria Falls that I cannot live there and be a missionary amongst the Ndebele?

I feel like Jonah in the whale’s tummy.

In July I used my last bit of cash to buy feathers from The Feather Shop in the UK to make and sell feather earrings I designed – with the idea of ‘He will cover you with His feathers…Psalm 91’ only to be sold duds and not refunded.

I then took a job at La Sablonnerie Hotel in Sark, Channel Islands before it closed for the season earning pittance but renewing my confidence in the human race, thanks mostly to the Jersey tourists.

And at the moment I am housekeeping for my father in Shaftesbury as my mother is away caring for Universal Aunts.

Now I feel like Jonah sitting under the tree.

God has since asked me to to sell my photographs for my Israel mission trip.

And if He can provide ZAR2000 in one day – He can surely supply £2000 for Israel in 25 days.

If God could test my faith when I was on baby food – I guess He can test my faith even more now that I am on solid food.

Dear Joseph – I know your pain.
And Job
And Jeremiah
And Elijah
And Paul.

Why couldn’t I be like Ruth or Esther?