Two plus two equals four. Yes or no?

My blogging prompt for today makes no sense.
But I am nothing if not quite the dramatic soul. I tend to look for the hidden meaning in EVERYTHING!
I analyze and re-analyze until it feels mystical and what-not.

Anyhow, back to thw prompt. My first thought was basically, how do I write about something as simple as a sum? Almost immediately after I came up with a different answer.

I love children. I had planned to have 8 children by the age of 32. Turns out I didn’t even get to give birth to 1.
My new answer to this sum is 6. Two plus two is six. Not four.

If I am married and my husband and I have two sets of twins… two plus two equals a family of six.

Having a toddler makes me think I’m crazy for ever wanting more than just one. I can’t even imagine having 2!

But, as always, I remain thankful for this awesome experience. It still takes my breath away when I think of the responsibility raising a child actually provides me with.
But I’m doing it. To the very best of my ability, and daily I get overwhelmed with the beautiful love she inspires in me.

Inspired and Loved

When I was 12…

I don’t remember anything about the twelfth year of my life.

I was 12. That is quite a while ago but by sheer calculation I am able to provide you with the following tidbits.

I had received a puppy for my 11th birthday. His name was Wowser and he had green eyes. Some would call his breed a steekbaard but truly I do not know. The year I was 12 would then have been Wowser’s second year on earth. He died a virgin many years later and was a really sweet pooch.

I was living with my mom for sure. Any extra living mates do not come to mind right now. My mother worked at a children’s convalescent home. That means odd hours. And working every alternate weekend.

If memory serves me well that was also my first year at Mondale Secondary School.
Getting into Mondale was my mother’s dream for me. It was the best school close to home and getting accepted was nothing short of a miracle.
Starting high school is always a stressful thing. My transition from primary school to high school was mafe easier by the fact that most of my classmates got accepted there too.

The twelfth year of my life doesn’t bring about many memories but its the kind of thing I’m thankful for.

It might sound cheesy but without the year I was 12 happening, I would never have made it to 13 😀

Inspired and Loved

A Durban Concert Experience

he invitation came about two or three weeks ago. One of the guys at church asked me to accompany him and some other souls to sing at a concert.

Yes. I sing. I’m passionate about worship. I likewise love to dance!

Anyway, we started practicing and so on. Still, nothing could prepare me for the experience. Does nobody like to dance in public here? The stage had been set and the atmosphere was positively abuzz with rhythm. But nobody was actually dancing. Even though there was enough space. There was lots of cheering though.

Coming to Durban initially I had felt I was going to enter into the Bollywood central of South Africa. You may find that ignorant, but when you don’t know, you just don’t know. Until you actually arrive there.

Everyone I have met, so far, has been so conservative. I feel positively wild in comparison. I don’t imagine I have ever thought of myself in that light. It’s not actually terrible.
They cast it down to my ‘coloured’ heritage. I haven’t yet been able to convince them otherwise.

I had a great night nonetheless. Especially since we had fans 😀
One thing I may never lack here is affirmation. I really appreciate that. In fact, I LOVE that!

It was a fun time right down to everyone  gravitating to McD’s after without actually planning to.

I’m enjoying it all. The sights and sounds of Durban.
In light of where I now live, I cannot help but make a foodie comparison… I have become the curry, the sambal if you will. And all my new souls are the cool raita and tzatziki of my Durban life.

What an awesome privilege.

Inspired and Loved

Awesome Highways

Its a highway. But not a highway as you know it.
This highway is small in comparison to many others.
But its no less busy than highways you have seen.

What is a highway anyway? Isn’t it just a way called high because of large amounts of traffic pulsing through each day?
Its normally wide and long to accomodate the to and fro.

However, the highway I speak of today is the street I live on. While it gets its fair share of motoring traffic, what makes it a highway to me are the people.

Everyday they pass me by. Soldiers marching to a drumbeat.
Each soldier moving to a drumbeat of his or her own. Here comes one now. Its a young lady in white and green. She wears a backpack. Her drumbeat: school and parents. She seems ok with it all. I try not to stare as she walks by. She will learn well I hope. So that she can continue marching on. Day by day.

Another soldier approaches. He is not alone.  His troop marches to the dreambeat of a security firm not too far from my home. Its a different sound and they add to it with bass and tenor. Their voices are all I hear for a while. My eyes have closed, so as to savour it all. Good thing they don’t know I am watching. It might appear very strange.

Another company of soldiers are passing by. More of them in this troop. Younger and more energetic. Their drumbeat dsn’t make itself clear to me. But I can see they know each other. Comrades in arms they jibe and jostle each other along.

These are but a few of the soldiers that pass me each day. A handful of the whole.
Some quiet and others rowdy.  All of them represent the same thing.  One word echoes through my home. The highway screams it at me all day: LIFE

Inspired and Loved

Overwhelmed….Everyday

Overcome with thankfulness daily. What an awesome thing.
Overcome and so overwhelmed that you cannot contain your thanksgiving.

I was watching a music video called O The Blood sung by Kari Jobe and Gateway Worship. And it happened. The overwhelming.
That awe-inspiring realisation that God knew every thing I could do wrong in my whole, entire life.
He knew how many times I would deny Him.
The amount of times I would disobey.
Every single time I would “forget” to pray or praise or worship or give thanks.

Still He died for me
Still He defends me
Still He communes with me
Still He inspires me daily
Still He remains faithful
Still He loves me

Now I sit here and wonder……. Imagine that everyday, I could remember, with vivid clarity, what He did and keeps doing for me.
Imagine that everyday, I find myself beyond moved with love and thanksgiving for what was done for me.

How would that change me? How would that change my day? How would it change what I do, what I experience and even how I react to whatever may come my way…

Inspired and Loved

Dear Dream Reader….

Thinking about who my dream reader could be took quite a while.

At first I had no idea then I had to many ideas.
So I looked at pictures for inspiration. And there it was ….or rather they were

#true story

A post shared by Imke Hendricks (nee Prins); (@inspiraimke) on

My dream readers are the would-be judges and jurists in this world. People in general have a right to, and most feel free to share, their opinions.

Most times, I have come across some souls who think that having an opinion also equals having authority.  But they don’t.  Only I have the authority to make decisions in my own life.
Many a time I have been confronted by people who think they have the right to tell me what to do. I don’t believe any of us have that right. We are gifted with the opportunity to have a platform in the lives of many. A further aspect of that gift is to realise it places us in an advisory capacity.

I always say, I welcome your advice but know that it is just that. Advice. I will take it into consideration when I make my decision.

So, herewith,  some advice from me… things will be much more pleasant when we all realise our levels of authority.  When we can advise without feeling personally rejected when the advice is not taken.

I am, essentially, responsible for every action I take or even don’t take. Whatever goes right or wrong will be borne by me. So give me the space to do so consciously.
So that I don’t have anyone else to blame but myself if things go wrong.

How will I grow if you never allow me to even flex my wings?

Inspired and Loved