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i'm drowned in the sea of your love
nimezama kwenye bahari la penzi lako
Last Update: 2023-02-26
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it makes no difference whether you converse in secret or aloud, whether you hide under the cloak of night or walk about freely in the light of day.
ni sawa anaye ficha kauli yake kati yenu na anaye idhihirisha, na anaye jibanza usiku na anaye tembea jahara mchana.
judge between them in the light of what has been revealed by god, and do not follow their whims, and beware of them lest they lead you away from the guidance sent down to you by god.
na wahukumu baina yao kwa aliyo yateremsha mwenyezi mungu, wala usifuate matamanio yao. nawe tahadhari nao wasije kukufitini ukaacha baadhi ya aliyo kuteremshia mwenyezi mungu.
for god, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of god in the face of jesus christ.
mungu ambaye alisema, "mwanga na uangaze kutoka gizani," ndiye mwenye kuiangaza mioyo yetu, na kutupatia mwanga wa ujuzi wa utukufu wa mungu uangazao katika uso wa kristo.
the earth will become bright from the light of your lord. the book of records will be presented and the prophets and witness will be summoned. all will be judged with justice and no wrong will be done to anyone.
na ardhi itang'ara kwa nuru ya mola wake mlezi, na kitabu kitawekwa, na wataletwa manabii na mashahidi, na patahukumiwa baina yao kwa haki, wala hawatadhulumiwa.
to all of these as well as those we shall provide the wherewithal of this life in the present world by dint of your lord's bounty; and from none shall the bounty of your lord be withheld.
wote hao tunawakunjulia - hawa na hao - katika neema za mola wako mlezi. wala neema za mola wako mlezi hazizuiliki.
léa ratsiazo in antananarivo questioned in a column for newspaper the madagascar tribune the country’s real ability to counteract the potential arrival of ebola in madagascar, in the light of a recent event in a hospital in the capital:
léa ratsiazo wa antananarivo alihoji kwenye safu yake iliyoko kwenye jarida la madagascar tribune kuhusu uwezo halisi wa nchi hiyo wa kudhibiti uwezekano wa kuenea kwa ebola nchini madagaska, kufuatia matukio ya hivi karibuni kwenye hospitali iliyoko jijini antananarivo:
(but the battle did take place) that god may end the matter which had been accomplished, so that he who had to die may perish after a clear demonstration, and he who had to live may survive in the light of positive proof, for god hears all and knows everything.
lakini (mkakutana) ili mwenyezi mungu atimize jambo lilio kuwa lazima litendeke, kwa sababu aangamie wa kuangamia kwa dalili zilizo dhaahiri, na asalimike wa kusalimika kwa dalili zilizo dhaahiri. na mwenyezi mungu ni mwenye kusikia mwenye kujua.
child loss is a loss like no other. one often misunderstood by many. if you love a bereaved parent or know someone who does, remember that even his or her “good” days are harder than you could ever imagine. compassion and love, not advice, are needed. if you’d like an inside look into why the loss of a child is a grief that lasts a lifetime, here is what i’ve learned in my seven years of trekking through the unimaginable. 1). love never dies. there will never come a day, hour, minute or second i stop loving or thinking about my son. just as parents of living children unconditionally love their children always and forever, so do bereaved parents. i want to say and hear his name just the same as non-bereaved parents do. i want to speak about my deceased children as normally and naturally as you speak of your living ones. i love my child just as much as you love yours– the only difference is mine lives in heaven and talking about about him is unfortunately quite taboo in our culture. i hope to change that. our culture isn’t so great about hearing about children gone too soon, but that doesn’t stop me from saying my son’s name and sharing his love and light everywhere i go. just because it might make you uncomfortable, doesn’t make him matter any less. my son’s life was cut irreversibly short, but his love lives on forever. and ever. 2). bereaved parents share an unspeakable bond. in my seven years navigating the world as a bereaved parent, i am continually struck by the power of the bond between bereaved parents. strangers become kindreds in mere seconds– a look, a glance, a knowing of the heart connects us, even if we’ve never met before. no matter our circumstances, who we are, or how different we are, there is no greater bond than the connection between parents who understand the agony of enduring the death of a child. it’s a pain we suffer for a lifetime, and unfortunately only those who have walked the path of child loss understand the depth and breadth of both the pain and the love we carry. 3). i will grieve for a lifetime. period. the end. there is no “moving on,” or “getting over it.” there is no bow, no fix, no solution to my heartache. there is no end to the ways i will grieve and for how long i will grieve. there is no glue for my broken heart, no exilir for my pain, no going back in time. for as long as i breathe, i will grieve and ache and love my son with all my heart and soul. there will never come a time where i won’t think about who my son would be, what he would look like, and how he would be woven perfectly into the tapestry of my family. i wish people could understand that grief lasts forever because love lasts forever; that the loss of a child is not one finite event, it is a continuous loss that unfolds minute by minute over the course of a lifetime. every missed birthday, holiday, milestone– should-be back-to-school school years and graduations; weddings that will never be; grandchildren that should have been but will never be born– an entire generation of people are irrevocably altered forever. this is why grief lasts forever. the ripple effect lasts forever. the bleeding never stops. 4). it’s a club i can never leave, but is filled with the most shining souls i’ve ever known. this crappy club called child loss is a club i never wanted to join, and one i can never leave, yet is filled with some of the best people i’ve ever known. and yet we all wish we could jump ship– that we could have met another way– any other way but this. alas, these shining souls are the most beautiful, compassionate, grounded, loving, movers, shakers and healers i have ever had the honor of knowing. they are life-changers, game-changers, relentless survivors and thrivers. warrior moms and dads who redefine the word brave. every day loss parents move mountains in honor of their children gone too soon. they start movements, change laws, spearhead crusades of tireless activism. why? in the hope that even just one parent could be spared from joining the club. if you’ve ever wondered who some of the greatest world changers are, hang out with a few bereaved parents and watch how they live, see what they do in a day, a week, a lifetime. watch how they alchemize their grief into a force to be reckoned with, watch how they turn tragedy into transformation, loss into legacy. love is the most powerful force on earth, and the love between a bereaved parent and his/her child is a lifeforce to behold. get to know a bereaved parent. you’ll be thankful you did. 5). the empty chair/room/space never becomes less empty. empty chair, empty room, empty space in every family picture. empty, vacant, forever gone for this lifetime. empty spaces that should be full, everywhere we go. there is and will always be a missing space in our lives, our families, a forever-hole-in-our-hearts. time does not make the space less empty. neither do platitudes, clichés or well-wishes for us to “move on,” or “stop dwelling,” from well intentioned friends or family. nothing does. no matter how you look at it, empty is still empty. missing is still missing. gone is still gone. the problem is nothing can fill it. minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, month after month, year after heartbreaking year the empty space remains. the empty space of our missing child(ren) lasts a lifetime. and so we rightfully miss them forever. help us by holding the space of that truth for us. 6). no matter how long it’s been, holidays never become easier without my son. never, ever. have you ever wondered why every holiday season is like torture for a bereaved parent? even if it’s been 5, 10, or 25 years later? it’s because they really, truly are. imagine if you had to live every holiday without one or more of your precious children. imagine how that might feel for you. it would be easier to lose an arm, a leg or two– anything— than to live without your flesh and blood, without the beat of your heart. almost anything would be easier than living without one of more of your precious children. that is why holidays are always and forever hard for bereaved parents. don’t wonder why or even try to understand. know you don’t have to understand in order to be a supportive presence. consider supporting and loving some bereaved parents this holiday season. it will be the best gift you could ever give them. 7). because i know deep sorrow, i also know unspeakable joy. though i will grieve the death of my son forever and then some, it does not mean my life is lacking happiness and joy. quite the contrary, in fact, though it took awhile to get there. it is not either/or, it’s both/and. my life is more rich now. i live from a deeper place. i love deeper still. because i grieve i also know a joy like no other. the joy i experience now is far deeper and more intense than the joy i experienced before my loss. such is the alchemy of grief. because i’ve clawed my way from the depth of unimaginable pain, suffering and sorrow, again and again– when the joy comes, however and whenever it does– it is a joy that reverberates through every pore of my skin and every bone in my body. i feel all of it, deeply: the love, the grief, the joy, the pain. i embrace and thank every morsel of it. my life now is more rich and vibrant and full, not despite my loss, but because of it. in grief there are gifts, sometimes many. these gifts don’t in any way make it all “worth” it, but i am grateful beyond words for each and every gift that comes my way. i bow my head to each one and say thank you, thank you, thank you. because there is nothing– and i mean absolutely nothing– i take for granted. living life in this way gives me greater joy than i’ve ever known possible. i have my son to thank for that. being his mom is the best gift i’ve ever been given. even death can’t take that away