The soft hum of morning prayers filled my room as the rising sun painted gold across my windows. I closed my eyes and whispered the final line of Psalm 91, letting it rest over my heart like a gentle hand.
"With long life will I satisfy him and show him My salvation."
I exhaled slowly, breathing in the peace of a new day. No matter what the day held, I always started with God. It was my anchor—especially with the chaos that came with living in a house of five.
I reached for my devotion notebook and scribbled a few thoughts before glancing at the clock. 6:32 a.m.
The twins' birthday.
Peace and Patrick. The noise-makers, laughter spreaders, and the joy twins of our home. Today, they turned ten, and the house was already buzzing with excitement before the sun had fully settled into the sky.
I stretched, stood, and walked to the mirror. My afro-puffed bun looked a little tired, but nothing a little gel couldn't fix. My eyes shifted to the small wrapped package on the table beside my Bible. It wasn't enough.
"I should get them something else," I mumbled, biting my lip.
The book I got for Peace was lovely—a devotional journal with coloring pages she could fill in during quiet time. Patrick's toy car was one he'd asked for weeks ago, but now it just felt... small. I wanted today to be perfect for them. Their energy had lifted me too many times to count. After all, I had practically raised them with Mum.
I heard light footsteps skipping down the hallway—Peace, no doubt. Only she walked like she danced, her hair beads clinking like music. She didn't even try to sneak.
"Pattyyyyy! Are you awake?" her voice came through the door before the knock.
I smiled. "Come in."
She peeked in, her white nightgown slightly twisted, her eyes bright with expectation. "Guess what day it is?" she grinned, arms spread wide.
"Hmmm," I tapped my chin. "Is it... International Noise-Makers Day?"
She burst into laughter. "Nooo! It's our birthday!"
"I know, baby girl," I said, hugging her. "Happy birthday!"
Patrick wasn't far behind. He crashed into the room like a windstorm, holding a plastic sword and grinning like a pirate. "And we're having pancakes for breakfast!" he shouted.
"Oh? So you two already made the birthday menu?" I teased.
"Daddy said yes. He's in the kitchen helping Mummy." Peace whispered like it was classified information. "But don't tell him we heard him burn the first batch."
I laughed, the sound surprising even me. It was rare these days. Between school, my project deadline, relationship stress I tried not to think about, and a strange heaviness I couldn't quite place—I hadn't laughed freely in a while.
Today, though, was about them.
As they danced out of my room with joyful shrieks and plans to decorate the living room "like a movie," I lingered behind. My smile faded just a little as I looked back at the small wrapped gifts.
They deserved more.
Maybe after breakfast, I could dash to the gift shop close by and pick up something extra. A necklace for Peace? A puzzle box for Patrick? I'd figure it out.
What I didn't know then was that while I was thinking of giving them the perfect birthday gift....
This day was about to give me something I never asked for.