A few days ago, I had a deep realisation about how the enemy tries to infiltrate our lives—through our thoughts. It struck me that the devil plants harmful ideas in our minds, feeding them until we start believing lies about ourselves. He twists our deepest insecurities into traps, using them to torment us, pushing us to doubt our worth and feel unworthy of love.
It happened suddenly. One day, a thought crept into my mind, and immediately, I sensed it wasn’t from God. I took a moment to hold it captive, rebuke it, and counter it with Scripture. In that moment, it dawned on me: the enemy plants lies, nurturing them until they take root. And looking back, I could see how many of those seeds had been planted years ago.
Growing up, my father often told me that I was “clumsy.” His words shaped my view of myself in ways I didn’t even understand back then. I became overly cautious, terrified of making mistakes or breaking anything, constantly afraid of disappointing people. I became careful with every little thing, still using the same scarf and mechanical pencil I’ve had since 2009, afraid of losing them. I’ve even found myself handling objects more gently than necessary, as though my worth somehow depended on keeping everything intact.
With my daughter, I’ve tried to be so mindful of how I respond. When something breaks, I teach her that it belongs in the dustbin, and I let her take it there herself. I want her to know that her worth isn’t tied to perfection, that she isn’t less valuable just because something breaks. I want her to feel secure in knowing that her worth is unbreakable.
Still, as a single mum, I wrestle with insecurities daily. The enemy whispers constantly that because I am a single woman with a child, I am unworthy. Recently, at a support group, a facilitator mentioned his daughter’s birthday, and suddenly, the enemy whispered, “Of course, you weren’t invited. Why would anyone want their child around a single mother? You’re a bad influence.” These words hit like a punch, feeding into a deep-seated fear that I am somehow unworthy, rejected, and even viewed as “bad.” It’s a lie I have lived under for years, constantly battling the thought that I am less than, that I am unwanted.
Looking back, I can see how deeply these lies have taken root. I never planned to have a child outside of marriage. I was a girl who loved God, who grew up in a simple nuclear family, praying for a family rooted in faith. But life shattered my world before I even had a chance to build that dream. When I was just 17, my mother died. My father became distant, leaving me to navigate life’s toughest years alone. I felt lost, desperate for the love and stability I once had. My brothers and I were left in the care of watchmen and shamba boys, while I found myself under the guidance of maids and nannies who, like me, were wounded and struggling. They offered what they could, but it was a tough, broken environment. We were all children in need of parental love, yet we were left to piece together our own brokenness.
In my late 20s, I fell into a relationship with a man who was deeply abusive—verbally, emotionally, psychologically, financially, and even physically. I clung to him because, in my brokenness, his distance felt familiar. Like my father and brothers, he was often unavailable and hurtful, and that only fed my belief that I was unlovable. I loved him, I bore him a child, but he never loved me back. The enemy used his words to dig deeper into my insecurities. He told me I was ugly, worthless, unworthy of love. His words cut like a knife, leaving me feeling disgusting, less worthy, ultimately, like “damaged goods.” Each cruel word was like a stamp from the enemy, marking me as unworthy of love and incapable of change.
The devil used these words to bring me to the edge, convincing me that I wasn’t worth anything. In those darkest moments, my daughter became my reason to live. My love for her kept me going when everything else in life felt too painful to endure. She is my reminder of God’s grace, my motivation to keep fighting. But still, the wounds run deep. Therapy has been a journey, with so many sessions and countless struggles. Only my therapist knows the details, and I’ve rarely spoken of them to anyone else. Each session has been a step toward healing, yet it’s God’s Word that has brought me the greatest healing.
God has been my rock, my Father, my Provider, standing by me when no one else did. Through His Word, He’s shown me that I am loved, chosen, and worthy, even when others rejected me. When everything else in my life failed, He was my constant. He became the voice of truth, quieting the overwhelming lies that surrounded me. Slowly, His Word has begun to uproot the deep-seated shame and self-hatred that I carried.
I drowned myself in the Word of God. I read the Bible cover to cover in different versions—multiple times—just to understand Him better. I started with the ICB to approach it with childlike understanding, then read ERV, EASY, GNT, NKJV, NIV, NLT, and AMP, over and over again. I didn’t stop there. I watched almost every Dr Myles Munroe sermon on YouTube daily and read 90% of all his books, many of which I still revisit today. I completed thousands of plans on the Bible app, reaching the highest level they offer (1000). I became zealous for the Word of God because I believed it held every solution I needed.
I wanted to drown out the lies and bad experiences, replacing them with God’s truth and building a new identity in Christ Jesus. I vividly remember sharing during a kesha about growing up in a family that wasn’t godly. My parents didn’t attend church, and we weren’t raised in a Christian environment. I sought the Lord on my own, becoming zealous for Him. And then I remembered Jesus’ humbling words to His disciples: “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16). God is the one who chose me, who put a zeal for Him in my heart so that I would seek Him with all my being.
Today, I know that God is my ultimate source. His Word is my guide, my foundation, my peace. I believe He’s calling me to full-time ministry, to serve Him more intentionally—not as a pastor but in full devotion with my time, money, and life. If being a nun was something one could apply for, I would have considered it just to spend all my time in His presence, surrounded by people who love Him too. I delight in conversations about His goodness, in worship, and in service to Him.
Paul’s words resonate deeply with me: “An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord’s affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit” (1 Corinthians 7:34). In this season of singleness, I have the freedom to serve God fully, without anyone opposing my choices or limiting my devotion.
The enemy may still try to whisper lies, but God’s truth is louder. Day by day, His love renews my mind, and His Word continues to transform my life.
Have a beautiful day. 🖤