Sometimes, inexplicable moments catch us off guard. Occasionally, an instinct or a timely nudge guides us just when we need it. That’s exactly what unfolded today! Isa, my ever-relaxed companion, rolled out of bed around 11 a.m. and promptly parked herself in front of the TV, engrossed in some captivating, brain-twisting show. Steffy had stepped out earlier but left Isa with a simple task: turn off the stove under the pressure cooker after three whistles. Easy enough, right? Well, not quite. Isa, completely absorbed in her TV marathon, lost track of time—and the stove.

I was out on the balcony, buried in my own work, when I started counting whistles in the back of my mind. Three? Five? No, we were well past ten. Something didn’t feel right. I called out to Isa to shut off the stove, unsure if Steffy was even home since I’d been so focused. Moments later, I spotted Isa shuffling into the kitchen. But she lingered there longer than expected. A gut feeling tugged at me, urging me to check on her. Dropping everything, I bolted inside.

What I saw stopped my heart: Isa, oblivious and curious, was fiddling with the still-hissing pressure cooker, trying to pry it open! The lid was seconds from giving way, a disaster teetering on the edge. I don’t know what came over me—panic, instinct, or something else—but I yelled at her to get out of the kitchen. She bolted, and thank goodness she did. The cooker’s lock had loosened just enough to hold the lid in place, sparing us from what could’ve been a catastrophe.

Later, Isa admitted she had no idea the cooker could explode. It hit me hard: these are the kinds of things we need to teach our kids—how everyday objects like stoves, pressure cookers, gas cylinders, electrical outlets, medicines, or even pesticides, often within arm’s reach, can turn dangerous in a flash. I paused to thank God for what felt like a miracle, a perfectly timed intervention. Moments like these make me believe there’s a bigger plan at work. I really do.

On a random drive back from an unplanned dinner, my daughters, brimming with curiosity, threw a question at me that many parents dread: "What should we aim for in our lives?" 

"Should I become a lawyer?" my elder one, now in her 8th grade, asked with a serious look on her face. 

"I think it would be fun to be a business owner," chimed in the younger one, a spirited 4th grader. 

I chuckled to myself, not because their ambitions weren't valid, but because I hadn’t given serious thought to their careers yet—probably because I'm still figuring out my own (haha). 

But I knew this moment called for something more meaningful than a casual, offhand remark. So, I took a deep breath and told them two things.

"Firstly," I said, "you must aim to be independent in life. Independence doesn't mean being solitary; it means having a distinct vision for your life and making your own decisions with confidence."

They nodded thoughtfully, absorbing my words. 

"Secondly," I continued, "aim to be a happy person, no matter what. Happiness is most rewarding when it springs from within you, rather than relying on others to provide it."

My philosophy might not have been the most entertaining lecture they’d ever heard, and it certainly wasn’t the kind of career advice one expects. But it felt right. I glanced at them in the rearview mirror, hoping my words resonated in some small way.

Soon enough, they went back to listening to their favorite song, their faces lighting up with the joy that only music can bring. I smiled, content with the evening’s impromptu lesson, and drove on, the road ahead open and full of possibilities for all of us.

Hiiii, im just sorting this!