No more plastics 3

"Baa, baa black sheep, have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir three bags full!" the tiny voices of joyful 4-year-olds filled the air.

"One for the master, one for the dame!" One voice sang ahead of the rest, disrupting the song.
"No,Rea, it's one for the master, one for madam. And you're singing faster than the rest of us. Slow down."

"One for madam?!" Four-year old Rea laughed. "It's one for the dame!"

Then the teacher intervened, "Rea, Joel, stop! Let's start the song again from the top everyone...1, 2, sing!"

Being kids was...effortless. Minds just flew on the wings of happiness and freedom and not a single worry lasted more than 3 minutes. Rea could not remember too many details from back then but she knew there had been much more light.
There was one day in 3rd grade, that'd stay engraved on the kids' cerebrums for a while; the first day Sister Benedicta became their teacher. She was a 34-year-old nun, very graceful and warm. And she brought sweets and neon-green rosaries on her first day, as gifts for the kids. She taught them new games and songs and made learning such a great joy.
Rea was convinced she wanted to spend her entire life being taught by Sister Benedicta. However, she wouldn't have known that in November of that same year, her life would make a drastic turn.

At 25 years old, she sat on the staircase of a solitary building somewhere in the outskirts of the city, and still struggled to keep her tears contained upon the memory of one dreaded day.

She could still hear Joel's voice from the restaurant asking, "what happened to you?"

Well, the answer to that could've filled hundreds of pages, in very small font. But the trigger to it all, she knew. She came back from school on one November afternoon, those many years ago, from another exciting class with Sister Benedicta. There was no electricity at home. She was hungry and alone; her mother had probably gone to get her baby-sister vaccinated at the nearby clinic like she said she would, and her father was still at work.  So, Rea used the gas stove to boil an egg, and when she switched it off afterwards, she didn't turn the knob tight enough;
permitting small amounts of the gas to escape. When her parents came back home, electricity had been switched back on and her mum made dinner for the family on the electric stove. Then, when the whole neighbourhood was asleep, during the late hours of the night, Rea awoke to a house ablaze. She remembered running to her parents room and banging the door locked from the inside. How the fire started, well she didn't know; her father might, or might not have been smoking close to the gas tank that night. It remained sort of a mystery really.

The loud engine of a heavy truck startled her out of her thoughts. She stood up from the stairs and wiped her face. Her past had been like a purulent, painful wound covered by a thin scar tissue she was too scared to peel off. However, on that day, she had a different perspective of it all. When she fell on her knees in church, she had allowed the Holy Spirit to peel off the scar for her; and the wound was clean and dry.

'See,' she heard a voice say in her mind, 'you are a new creation now. Allow the light that surrounds you to shine within.'
....

Joel walked into the living room of his home, looking distraught. He tossed the car keys on the coffee table, threw himself on the sofa and started scrolling through different TV channels.

"Oh, you're back already? I thought you'd take a while," his mother, Pastor Maria said as she jotted down stuff in her notebook. And when she got no response, she said, "Did you get her the stuff she needed?"

"We only had lunch, and she left."

"What happened? You look sad." She said, coming to sit on a sofa opposite his.

"I know that girl, mum, from the time I lived in Gata. She was one of my childhood friends. But she had not recognised me, so when i told her i knew her she...just left."

"Oh. She told me she had a very difficult past but didn't give me the details; and she kept saying everything was her fault. Do you know what really happened?"
 He shook his head. That's what he had been trying to figure out the whole time.

"What are we going to do about this, Joel? We could turn away, or we could be a reminder to her that God massively loves her. Come on, get up. Do you have an idea where we could find her?"

He thought for a while and then told her about Mr. T.

....

Rea was still on those stairs when Joel and his mum arrived. She silently shook her head, amused by their persistence.

Pastor Maria got out of the car and went to sit next to her. She told her she was going to do everything in her power to help her not be homeless again. And gave Rea some scriptures, assurring her that there really is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.

Joel stood by the car, watching, and praying in his heart.

"You didn't have to punish yourself for whatever happened in your past, my child," Pastor Maria said.

Rea broke down, and narrated what happenned on the horrifying night of the fire, amidst tears. "I had dreams to be working in a nice office by this point of my life! I wanted to be successful! My dreams were burnt to ashes with the rest of my family that day. Do you know how it is to have your childhood dreams crushed just like that?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Rea looked up at Pastor Maria.

"I wanted to be a pilot. But when I got gang-raped by strangers, in the street, at 14 and remained pregnant with a baby whose father I didn't know, all I wanted was to disappear."

A streak of disbelief flicked on Rea's face.

Then her gaze turned to Joel. It dawned on her that she had never known his parents while they were growing up. He lived with his grandparents, his mother's parents. Pastor Maria only took him when he was around 15, when she finally found her own healing and wholeness, in God. Joel still didn't know the man whose DNA he carried.

"Do you remember," he said, approaching the two women, "Do you remember when Sister Benedicta brought a bird with two broken wings to class?"

Rea nodded.

"She asked us if we thought there was still life in it and we all said yes. She asked again if we still think so even though it had lost its ability to fly. Birds are meant to fly arent they?"

She remembered the bird, not it's story.

"You know," Joel proceeded, " I never forgot because that day, I realised that's the most important thing; life within. Life's not over Rea, dreams are not over, as long as we're still here."

 "And the great thing about this life in us, is it's given by a limitless God." said Pastor Maria with a smile. "You may not get all answers to your questions, but be assured, His love does endure forever."

Rea inhaled deeply. And then she abruptly lit up;

"I just remembered something about that bird!" she said, almost hysterically. "Its wings healed with time, and it got back its ability to fly!"

For the first time in a long time, she could 'see' a bright future.
Her eyes met Joel's.  He realised that veil was gone. And now there was just light.
Light powered by life within.


THE END.

                 Image from cleargreen.com

No more plastics 2

"So, why did you let yourself go?"

"What ?"

"Why 'd you let yourself go?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't look like someone who should be living on the streets."

"Who does?"

"You're smart, pretty, kind...yet you've let yourself beg for a living. Why?"

Rea dropped the burger she was holding back into its box and stared into the distance.

"What makes you think I let myself go?" She asked Joel. He was sitting across from her in the restaurant, barely eating his own food. "What if this is the actual me?"

"This?" He scoffed, pointing up and down at her rags.

"You're looking at the wrong me. That's the problem. I'm referring to the me that doesn't conform to what society calls normal. The me that doesn't have to prove anything to anyone."

He chuckled and looked around, as if to see if anyone else had heard her. Many people had been occassionally shooting glances at them all afternoon. It was an interesting sight ; a meticulously dressed gentleman sitting with a...uhm, a woman who looks like a walking trash can.

"What happened to you?"

She shook her head and looked away.

 Her eyes caught sight of an old man sitting on the pavement across the street. He was paralysed from the waist down and could barely distinguish between a tree and a person.

"That's Mr T. We call him Mr T, I don't know his full name. He is smarter than a lot of proffessors," she said, as if she hadn't heard his question.

Joel turned and looked at the 70-something old man, seemingly enjoying singing while waving a small wooden plate.

"Mr T was a builder back in the day, but everything turned around for him the day he fell off a roof, breaking his spine. The young wife he could no longer take care of left him for someone else. Well, at least that's what I've heard. I never got to ask him coz everytime I was around him he was always so positive and so hopeful that I just couldn't bring up a gloomy topic. He encouraged me to leave the streets...told me there was a whole better life waiting for me out there. I went for two straight days with nothing to eat at some point and he gave me all the money he'd earned that week. Every single coin. I refused to take it but he was not gonna have that. It was $7.53 and it was all he had. He gave it all." A tear trickled down her right cheek. She quickly rubbed it off. "People like him; sir, they didn't let themselves go."

He gasped deeply. She was shutting him out. Whenever he tried looking into her eyes she'd blink the gaze away and just...shut him out.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" She asked him, offhandedly. "And don't tell me it's because you go to church, coz 90% of the people that've passed me by in the street do too."

"Somebody has to care."

She laughed. It was so loud it made heads turn. Those that'd labelled her as mentally-disturbed upon initially seeing her had their judgements confirmed.

"I don't think what I said was that funny."

"Wasn't funny at all. I'm laughing coz if I hadn't experienced what I did at church today,  that statement would've made me walk away from here right now. Everyone that was supposed to 'care' left me when I needed them the most. And all those years I spent searching, wondering, dying...sleeping on hard concrete underneath a cardbox, still nobody 'cared'. A few have attempted to, but they ended up leaving as well. So, I'm sorry, but I don't need you to care because you feel somebody has to, okay?"

Joel clenched his jaw and then leaned forward towards her.
"Rea, I know you."

"Excuse me?"

" You are Rea Mashanya from Gata, i know you. We practically grew up together; went to creche, grade 1, 2 and 3 together. Remember?"

Her eyes widened in a blend of surprise and shock, transfixed on him. She didn't blink this time. And he caught a glimpse of the thick veil that covered the window to her soul.

Joel had seen Rea two weeks back, outside a bakery on the outskirts of the city. He was about to walk on by when his attention was drawn to a peculiar rosary she had hung around her neck. It was a unique kind; with  neon-green coloured beads and a yellow thread. He had continued to walk on, but the image of the homeless lady with the rosary resembling the ones he and his classmates had received as gifts in grade 3, stayed on his mind. And so when he saw her again that day, in church, he knew he couldn't just walk on this time.
It was as if one ventricle of his heart stopped contracting the moment he got close enough to recognise she was the girl that used to draw butterflies on his face with mulberry-stained hands.

"You...you know me?"

"Yeah, and your family. You lived two houses away from us."

She looked down and buried her face into her hands. Her mind could not believe she had been sitting across from her long-lost childhood friend the whole time. Joel Mataga? As in muddy-face Joel?

"Look, Rea," he said, removing her hands from her face. "I've not just been looking at you all afternoon, I've been looking for you. Where is the real you?"

"You know a 5-year old, Joel. Not a 25-year old."

"What happened to you? Please, tell me what happened."

She got up from her seat, her eyes beginning to swell up.

"Thank you for the meal."

She took the food she hadn't eaten and walked out before he could say anything. He watched her through the window, give the food to Mr T across the street and then she strode away; disappearing at a corner.

....

No more plastics

The first time she walked into the building, she felt an aura she couldn't quite understand. There was a stillness and a chaos, almost in harmony and she took a seat on the very last row of the dark auditorium. There were about three rows between her and the rest of the congregation sitting ahead, attentively listening to the preacher.

Heaven knows if the lady at the door had not flashed a friendly smile and ushered her in, she'd have turned right back and walked away. But her warmness had lightened up Rea's heart. For a moment she forgot how repulsive she'd become to the public...how her hideous clothes and bare, cracked feet earned her hateful stares.
A groan, a very familiar groan, arose from the depths of her tummy and she immediately covered it as if to minimize its noise.
Just as she adjusted herself to sit comfortably in the solitary row, she heard a soft, yet deep voice singing in the most captivating way,
"Your grace has found me just as I am, empty-handed, but alive in your hands..."

Before Rea could comprehend what was happening, the  auditorium was filled with a gripping atmosphere. It wasn't the song, or the singer,but the power of the One addressed, that gripped her heart the most. She didn't know when and how the dark place where she sat, suddenly seemed soo flourescently bright that she shielded her eyes with her hands.

She felt a peace, one that transcends all understanding, overwhelm her, and almost instinctively, Rea knew she was in the presence of the Most High.
She fell to her knees and earnestly prayed, with each word peeling off every cell of the dead skin that was stuck to hers.  This was a girl who'd felt herself lose her identity the first moment she sat by the store's pavement with an outstretched arm, begging passer-bys for coins, afraid she could starve to death if she doesn't. Another part of it was lost when she was imprisoned for two days, for allegedly stealing a wealthy woman's ring. It had fell into the gutter next to where she sat when the lady tripped and fell because she was giving Rea a disgusted look instead of watching where she was going. And scrapes of what remained of her identity had been lost when she had been diagnosed with a 'mental illness' the day after that.

"I know!" she found herself shouting. "I know I am a child of God!" Her soul, once clogged-up with all sorts of gloom, felt refreshingly clean, and a huge smile beamed on Rea's face.

"Sister," a voice startled her up and she slowly opened her eyes. Her expression immediately turned to surprise when she realised the auditorium was then almost empty. The service had finished and people had left, and she had not been a single bit aware.

She looked up at the guy who'd called her.

"I'm sorry but we'll soon have to close the doors," he said, with an expressionless face.

She thought he was kidding, but this was the wrongest time to kid because he'd just interrupted what she could reckon had been the most delightful time of her life.

"The service is over," he said, adjusting the guitar case over his shoulder.

" It's okay Mark, leave her. Let her have as much time with the Lord as she desires," another voice said, approaching.

"Dude, we'd have to pay for the extra time she stays in here, we can't..."

"Mark, don't worry about that. Go home."

Rea recognised the second guy as the one who'd been up on stage leading that worship song.

"Are you okay?" he asked her when Mark had left.

She turned her gaze away and nodded. Then she rose to her feet, and gasped deeply, preparing to leave.

"You don't have to go if you still want to pray sister... what's your name?"

"Rea."

"You can stay and pray, sister Rea, it's alright."

She kept looking down, fidgeting with her dirty hands. What amazed her, though, was the fact that she would previously have felt as if there was a bold 'retard' tatooed across her forehead; but in that moment, she saw herself from the inside out.

He didn't seem repelled by her, not a bit. When he realised she was transfixed on the spot, he told her he'd be back, and then he scurried away and returned with the pastor;  Pastor Maria.

She had a lovely, motherly warmth to her and she embraced Rea without hesitating.
Silent tears ran down Rea's cheeks. For the first time, she felt accepted, and worthy. Worthy to belong.

After what seemed to be an hour inside the auditorium, Rea and the lady pastor stepped out. This was a very different Rea, a whole new creation.

"Joel!" Pastor Maria called out to that worship leader who was still outside, wiping some dust off his car.

"I have to rush off to the conference at Greenfields now, would you kindly direct Rea to my shop at the mall, I need her to pick out some clothes there."

"I can go with her, mum, I'm not doing anything right now."

"Great. Here you go, you may as well grab a few more things she might need. I'll cover up the rest when I get back," she said, handing him her bank card.

"Alright. Thanks mum." He turned to Rea. "Shall we?"

She was still in awe of every detail of this day, that when he opened the door of the car to usher her in, she couldn't stop the tear that escaped from her right eye.

Taking one step into that building earlier that day had been the first step to a staircase ascending heavenwards. A step into an adventure she had never imagined.

Sometimes just one step in the right direction makes a huge impact
...

Image from barbed wire bracelets.blogspot.com

10 points to note during Courtship, by Mrs Moyo, my mum

COURTSHIP
What is courtship?
The dictionary says “ an act of wooing in love; soliciting of a woman to marriage.”

It is very difficult to know someone until you “study”him or her usually with the help of friends and relatives. So it is very crucial to do research on the one you intend to marry. This is the time we call courtship.

In research I mean laying out a number of questions about your intended spouse and actually finding answers to them. In African culture this job was usually done by the uncles and aunts but nowadays because of urbanisation and diaspora, it is quite difficult. It will be the Grace of God to find all the answers you want. If you prolong your research, it will lead to temptations
and you might end up confused.
The most important questions you must ask are:
1. LOVE
How much do I love this person? If one day he/she wakes up without this beauty I am
seeing now, will I continue to love him/her? If he snores when sleeping, will I
continue to love her/him? If he/she loses his/her eyes one day, will I continue to love
him/her? If you marry at the age of 25 and if God allows you live up to the age of
80 or 90 will you be able to love him/her for all those years after discovering
something which you did not know before you married?
Loving someone means sacrificing for another person unconditionally. It means to
love like Jesus.
You need to understand your partner’s character, habits and behaviour before you make a serious commitment. Introducing him/her to your relatives will expose whatever weakness he/she might have and that will give you enough time to decide whether to compromise or not.
Do not make a mistake of thinking that you are going to change the character,
behaviour, or habit of someone, you are not his/her creator. If anything, you might
make it worse than you found him. Instead, learn to love his/her character, behaviour
or habit.  (😑)
Do not mistake love for lust. Lust will last for a very short time but love endures for a
very long time.

2. CHILDREN
During courtship, discuss about the number of children you want, if any. Discuss
about their names i.e. for both sexes. If possible write those names down so that you will not confuse your relatives who might want to give your children their names. Discuss about how many girls and how many boys you want to avoid surprises of an army of children when you are looking forward to having only two or three. Talk about where you intend your children to get their education and also how you are going to take care of their spiritual side. Talk about the possibility of not being able to have children and how you are going to handle it. Remember children are a blessing/gift from God. Even if you have millions in the bank, you cannot buy a child from God. You can only take care of them. You can only provide for their needs, that is clothing, food, shelter and education.

3. RELATIONS
When one marries, it is not for himself or herself. You are marrying for the whole
family. During courtship, learn to love those relatives you are introduced to or you are
told about. This is the time to know whether your spouse will take good care of you or
not. If your boyfriend takes good care of his mother, it’s a sure sign he will take care
of you. If he does not tell you about his mother’s birthday, he will also forget about
yours after you are married. (Hehehe😅).
If you are shy to show your spouse some of your relatives because of their certain
behaviours which you don’t like, how do you expect the partner to love them. Love
them all even the drunkards or even those who always beg for money. If you cannot
tolerate them, it is better to make a decision now before marriage.
Make it a point you have the siblings and close relatives’ birthdays and if possible
show love by buying them gifts. Remember you are doing this during courtship so
that it will be a norm when you are together.

4. INTERESTS
Many people divorce because of discovering some interests after marriage which they cannot put up with. Birds of the same feather flock together. Make sure your interests do not differ that much. Study what your partner likes and dislikes and learn to compromise. If say you love movies and your partner does not, it means you will fight for the remote control of the TV because you wont be watching the same things. Women learn to love soccer even if you don’t understand it make sure your partner explains it to you. Learn whatever sport your partner likes and make an effort to understand it. (Really mum?😒)
Know the type of food he loves and if you cannot prepare it make sure you learn
before you stay together as husband and wife. Men, learn to love the type of food your future wife likes to avoid conflicts in the home. If she likes eating okra, learn to eat it because it is not poison, it will not kill you. Just do it for your loved one. If he/she
loves to go to church, make sure you attend the same church and you show your love
right inside the church. Learn to pray together before the children come so that when they come it will not be difficult to incorporate them.

5. COMMUNICATION
Where there is no communication, there is no relationship. I do not mean just hi and
how are you on whatsapp or facebook. Tell each other real issues of life because as I
said you are going to spend a very long time with him/her. You need to tell him/her
every little detail about yourself, your thoughts, your ideas, plans etc. your jokes
should be known by the two of you(😆). Don’t let your partner learn news about you from other people. You should be the one telling other people about what happened to you.
Communicate about everything in your family so that your partner knows what to
expect when he/she joins you.

6. HONESTY
Honesty is a virtue, so they say. You should always tell the truth to your partner because a lie is difficult to maintain. You cannot tell a lie twice but the truth can be told a hundred times over without changing the words. Build your relationship on a foundation of truth so that your partner may trust you. If you keep on changing stories, it is most probable that you are lying. It is better for your partner to love you with your ugly past than on a
lie. When the truth comes out no one will support you. You have to be honest with
everything you have come across with before you met your partner. It is up to him/her to decide whether to go on with the relationship or to let you go. If something is discovered later in marriage, the probability of a divorce is very high. Even the Bible says that the truth will set will set you free. It is difficult to deal with an unreliable person. Remember you will be parents one day and your children will rely on you. You should be role models for your children. If you do not like your children to lie to you, they should learn to tell the truth from you.
If your plan fails, you need not lie about it. Maybe your partner has a better plan which can help you. People learn from their mistakes and therefore you just have to be honest with your partner. Your partner will respect you for telling the truth than for him/her to discover on his/her own.
Being late for an appointment is lack of honesty. You will find out that one will come up with a lot of excuses and sometimes lies to cover up why he/she was late. The truth will eventually come out because a lie is difficult to maintain.

7. MONEY
During courtship, talk about how you are going to handle your finances. You also talk
about who is going to handle the money in the home and how you are going to spend
it. Talk about budgeting together. When money is in the home, it has no name (🙌). It is the family money which should be used to solve family issues. Talk about separate
accounts or joint accounts. Research on what is best for you. Discuss about it and
reach a compromise (💅).  Most divorces happen because of financial issues. Discuss about
each other’s needs and wants. Women need their make-up and men need their car
parts or newspapers. Do not be selfish. Accommodate each other. Discuss about the upkeep of your parents and/or siblings. Discuss about buying them clothes and other necessary items to meet their daily needs. If you have other responsibilities, like paying fees for your siblings or other relatives you are taking care of, discuss with your partner how you are going to handle the finances.
Talk about the type of car you want to buy, no surprises after marriage. Remember
you should have the same interests. If one wants a different type of car, make an effort to find out why he/she wants it. You will end up liking the same thing.
Talk about the type of house you are going to buy/build. All these should be within
your means, do not talk about something you cannot afford. If one wants to stay in a
luxury house but cannot afford it, he/she will end up being unhappy in the home.

Men, do not make promises you cannot keep otherwise you will not be a
reliable person (preach momma!👐). Talk about the kind of wedding you are going to have and all the expenses. Talk about the wedding rings and how much they are
going to cost. Talk about affordability and avoid getting into debt for luxury items like a ring because you want to make your partner happy.

8. BACKGROUND
As I said before, birds of the same feather flock together. It is very important that the person you are going to marry has a similar background with you. Listen as your partner speaks, the kind of words
he/she uses. If you are learning new words every time you meet, it’s a sign that your backgrounds are very different. The danger is that you will not be able to accommodate each other’s needs and wants.
If your partner has been to a lot of places, there is big chance that you will not be able to trust him/her. It is better to discover places together and learn new things together. Men do not like it if a woman knows better than him, they do not want to be challenged by a woman. Remember you are going to spend more years in marriage than you spend with your parents. Make a research about your partner’s background.

9’.FRIENDS
Two is company but three is a crowd. Involving many friends in a relationship
may be disastrous. There are people who naturally enjoy when a fellow being is
suffering. Only the two of you should be best of friends. Some friends are
unfortunate victims of poor parental guidance and have nothing good to offer
you in the building of a positive relationship.


10. SEX
Wait for the right moment when both of you are ready. It is God-given, do
not steal it . I suggest you wait patiently for God's time which is basically the best. If you are a girl and you give in to sex before marriage your boyfriend might not respect you. He will love you more for not sleeping
around with many men. No good boy will do anything that hurts the girl they genuinely love. He will sometimes test the girl and in the majority of cases girls fails the test and even lose the best father-to-be for their children. Love is not sealed by sex before marriage. Thousands of girls
have been abused and left empty and deprived of an essential element in
their lives. Sex is an important pillar of marriage and not courtship. This
topic will be dealt with later when you tie the knot.

Post by Mrs C Moyo

Married for 29 years

Dusty knees

Human unwillingly slumps off bed in the morning. Late. Looking like he was chasing zombies in his dreams. No appreciation for a new day. Maybe we miss the point of it being 'new'. New here means every minute, every mili-second is uniquely for that very day. There'll never be another  20:50 October 3, 2017 exactly like this one right now.

Somehow, we've found a way of taking all the new mercies that come with each day for granted. I found myself in awe when I thought of how our Lord Jesus , when He walked the earth,  rose up early in the morning to pray. The creator of heaven and earth woke up early. To pray. And yet He's the definition of 'having it all figured out'. What kind of nerve do you and I have that we'd think we can make it through this life with little to no prayer at all?

It probably is the most underrated key to success. We'd be on our knees a whole lot more if we could see God opening the golden safe full of answers to our prayers the moment we say Amen. But then we should be on our knees a whole lot more believing His word in which He says 'ask and it'll be given unto you.' Imagine getting to Heaven, then sparkly, diamond-studded emerald gates of the largest room you've ever seen fling open, and before you are all sorts of beautiful things you dreamed of and some way beyond your imagination. Then God says, 'this is all the stuff I was ready to give you if you'd only talked to me.' And tears trickle down your cheeks as you think of all the sleepless nights you spent trying to put two and two together. 'You thought you could do it in your own power huh?'

Prayer is a relationship. The God that's neglected in our prayerlessness, is the same God we'll spend eternity with. It'd be great to have established a wonderful relationship with Him while we're still here. Time spent praying is the most well-spent time out of each day's 24 hours. And a lot of the futile things we spend most of our time fighting, would ultimately disappear if we would just commit them to the One who sees all, knows all and conquers all. It's about time we stop acting like we know everything, and submit to the One who's the greatest, whose hand is mighty enough to hold the entire universe.

"The only way we'll ever stand, is on our knees with lifted hands." - Courageous, Casting Crowns.

Vashti

I took a sip from the golden glass and tried to ignore all the noise coming from the parlour where the men's party was being held. I was hosting my own mini-party with my girls, but it was more dignified.  You know, the popcorn and chips kinda party; while they had drums of heavy beers and chunks of meat.

"I really envy your position," said Leah, one of the girls sitting across the room from me.

 " You are so powerful. It must be fun being queen."  She was gazing at the gorgeous crown on my head with widened eyes.
Well, I used to look at it that way too, the first days. I've lost the adoration somewhere within the cracks of a damaged kingdom.

I faked a smile. I wasn't about to tell her of all the nights I sit in bed listening for the King's footsteps, hearing them pass my room to the concubines'. The times I wish I could push apart  the gigantic doors of his throne room and disrupt the countless hours he spends judging silly cases instead of  building a family with me. It sounds selfish but seriously I've heard them argue about horses all afternoon in there.
This palace is massive, sometimes it takes days without me setting an eye on him. My own husband. The King.

I took another sip of the grape juice. Then i gulped it all down and asked the butler to refill the glass. I honestly wished the juice had been fermented even just a little. There were loud noises from the parlor, so loud the girls had to stop their conversations for a while. I rolled my eyes. It wasn't the first time I was hearing these drunken voices.

Then one of the King's servants stepped onto the doorway of our room and requested to enter with a respectful bow. I motioned my hand to one of my servants to get the message from him.

"Your majesty," she said, " The king requests your presence in the parlour."

I looked up to the servant at the door and asked him, "Why did he summon me?"

"Uhm, your majesty, the other officials in the party would like you to uhh.. parade before them."

"I'm sorry, what?!"  I almost gave that ratchetly loud laugh that's like 'who the hell do they think they are?' but then i remembered I'm the Queen soo...etiquette.

He kept his head bowed low.

I straightened the crown on my head, to affirm my authority and to adjust it,  that thing was heavy.

"Go tell the King, and whoever else is in there, that I will not be setting my foot into that filthy party with all those reckless drunkards. No. Not today."

Eyes were shot at me. Even the servant lifted up his face in surprise.

"What are you still waiting for?"

He gave me that 'are you really sure you want me to tell that to the king?' stare and even though my heart beat was beggining to betray my fake bravery, I kept my face straight.

"Just tell him I will not be able to come," I said.

He strode away.

The King has such a nerve though! Yes I am his wife but what on earth is that about?! He would parade me in front of all those men with absolutely no shame?!

There was an air of silence in our room. And then came the loud, angry grunts  from the parlour. I couldn't make out what they were saying but the intoxicated men sure were mad. For about fifteen minutes I sat there, wondering what was going on.

"She is not fit to be Queen!" someone shouted, followed by choral grunts in agreement.

"The queen has not only done you wrong, your honour, but all of us here. We cannot be led by such a stubborn queen, our wives may use this as an excuse to disobey us," an all-so familiar voice said. He had never liked me, for reasons that elude me. And now here he was taking out the frustrations piled by a disobedient wife on me. Go home, Memucan.

"Silence!" I heard my husband's voice say. My heart skipped a beat or two. "Queen Vashti will come before me no more." He said, his voice cold as ice, and as emotionless as his eyes had been the last time I saw him.

My jaw literally dropped. I froze for a while. Are you kidding me? Did you love me at all?
So our marriage is decided by these lunatics here? Alright. Okay.

I held back some rage as a hoard of servants stormed into my room. Not only did they just budge in, they had their armour on! Like what was I going to attack you with? Lipgloss?

"The king said..."

"I heard him!"

I slowly rose up to my feet,  letting the soldiers know I was aware I was being kicked out. I took the crown from my head. I was so tempted to toss it on the floor but I just gently placed it on the table, somewhat relieved to get rid of all that weight.

The rest of the girls in the room were struck with shock on their faces.

Amazingly, I didn't feel hurt. Just superficially. I must've been numb to everything. Maybe I would cry my eyes out  alone somewhere realising I just lost an entire kingdom, and room service. Or, maybe not. I actually have the strength to say I'm okay with seeing another woman, with a more tolerant heart, take my place. I hope she'll warm up his heart to love again.

I don't need this crown here to validate my queenship. So, for now, i'll walk away. Disappointed, but with my dignity intact.

(Based on the book of Esther, chapter 1)

Fear of standing alone

For a very long time, i felt a doubtful echo resound with each time i said 'I' objectively. I like, I want, I am... A thought in my head would be like 'you who?' And for a while i thought i had about 67% of the answer to that question figured out. But i probably just had 7%.

There are some celebrities so significant that the colour of their toothbrush matters. They step out of the house wearing a white t-shirt and it becomes news. I've always thought it's much easier for such people to refer to themselves with a stronger 'I'. They seem to have their identities all figured out. I knew that I'm a child of God okay, and everything else the Bible tells me I am, I guess I just took it like every other Christian out there confesses these same things so where's the uniqueness in that? We are the salt and the light of the world, but who am I as an individual?

When it resonated to me that 'I am' is God Himself, the sacredness of those two letters dawned on me. And now I can say 'I am beautiful' without wincing or mincing around to see if you think so too. You don't have to. Fear had me seated for way too long. Telling me if I stood up my voice would be a lil' weak, accent weird, words meaningless, looks unappealing. For every ounce of energy i got to rise up, there'd be a tonne of negativity to sit me back down. Girl, step out the boat, you can walk on water too. Never mind the raging sea beneath your feet, oh look at that; it may be raging but it's 'beneath' your feet. Ha.

There's something strong about not needing other people to tick in the boxes of my own values. Something boss about not needing validation. If I have one nod from God, I'm good.

The decisions I make now may influence whether I live an ordinary or extraordinary life. When I read back on this post in the future, I want to smile and feel proud for being brave enough to stand alone and be the light that I am. If I wait for another's light to brighten mine up, I may never know how much of a difference my own would have made. Brave. Aunthentic. I Am.  I won't wait to say 'thank you' to compliments before consolidating my own view of myself.

I am all that God says I am; the written word, the spoken word, all of it. I am the Salt and the Light of the world.
I Am.
These words i read in a Myles Munroe book when i was in high school stand solid:
I am one, but I am only one
I cannot do everything, but I can do something.
What I can do, I ought to do
And what I ought to do, by the grace of God I will do.
Fear, bye.

Image by :www.qudzie.com

COLOURS

Two patients, a boy and a girl,that had just had eye surgery had rooms next to each other in a private hospital. Their eyes were still healing and highly photosensitive so they had on bandages blindfolding them.  Every mid-morning , the nurses would take each of them out of the hospital to sit on benches basking in the sun.
On this particular day; the two were made to sit side by side, on the same bench.

“Hey,” he started the conversation.
“Hie…I wasn’t aware that there was anyone around,” said the girl with a chuckle.
“Oh, you’re blindfolded too?”
“I’m not the only one? Which surgery did you have?”
“Radial Keratotomy…or something. You?” replied the guy.
“Umm I forgot what they called mine… photoreflection…blah blah…i don’t know,”
“Medical terms…” giggled the boy. “I’m Jacob,”
“Mary,”
“Guess it would be funny to attempt to shake hands Mary…we’re both blind bats right now,”
“I can totally see you I was just messing around this whole time,” joked Mary.
Jacob chuckled. “Where you from? You have an interesting voice.”
“Really?” Mary laughed. “I’m from around here. I was born in this city.”
“Oh, me too. Born here, went to Greenpark High, Greeenpark Technical College, and I now work at the local municipal office.”
“You went to Greenpark high? My school and yours were rivals!”
“Let me guess; St Helen’s?”
“Yes! We hated how pompous the kids from G.H were. You all thought going to an expensive school made you some sort of superior beings,” said Mary with a giggle.
“Haha, and we thought St Helen’s girls would all grow up to be either nuns,or some sort of man-hating species. You’re probably the latter.”
Mary laughed. “Said like a typical mean G.H student. You all should have your own planet.”
Jacob chuckled. And they went on talking and laughing , getting along as if they had known each other for years.
 After two hours the nurses came to take them back to their wards for lunch. They both wished they could stay longer and have more conversations as they staying in individual wards felt lonely.
The following mid-morning they sat together on the bench again, and had an even more fun time in each other’s company.
Days passed. They were getting so acquainted to each other with each unfolding day , that they would request to the nurses to sit on the bench for longer.
“You have one of the most interesting voices I’ve ever heard, Mary,” Jacob said, amidst one of their conversations, one day.
“Really? Thanks. That’s not a compliment I get every day,”
“I can only imagine how you must be blushing right now,”
“Oh please,” said Mary, smiling. “If you could see me, that’s not the kind of compliment you’d have given me… that’s if you’d give a compliment at all,” said Mary, profoundly.
“Why? You’re that ugly?”
“I’d slap you if I could find your face right now,”
Jacob laughed. “Being blind for this week has helped me appreciate some things in life I never paid attention to,” he said, solemnly. “Like, I listen to music and I actually distinctly hear the melody of each instrument so much it’s like I’m listening to the songs for the first time,”
“I know right! Have you heard the sounds crickets make at night and the birds in the tree next to our ward windows? It’s pure music.”
“Or,you’re just pure crazy.”
Mary fumbled about to get hold of Jacob and she got his hand. Instead of continuing to pinch him as she intended, she was taken aback by the way he held her hands.
“You have the softest hands ever,” he whispered.
“You have the lamest lines ever.”
 He was gently stroking her hand. It reminded her of the way her former boyfriend used to hold her…before she found out he held five other female hands the same way. She quickly withdrew her hand and pretended to be choking,  coughing briefly.
“Are you okay?” asked Jacob.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
That evening, as he lay in his bed, Jacob thought about his life and the decisions he’d made. He had long lost passion for anything at all. Nothing, and no one made him feel excited and he felt as if there was nothing to look forward to. He decided to go to church to find the hope that  seemed so far out of reach. It was as he was still figuring out this hope thing out that his failing sight began to get worse. He had always had sight problems since he was a child. However, here at the hospital, he found himself mesmerised by a girl; something he totally didn’t expect to happen. Moreover, this is a girl he couldn’t physically see. So, this was strange.
Jacob imagined what Mary looked like. He knew she had long, soft hair after she had accidentally leaned on his hand one day as they sat on the bench. From her soft, somewhat gruffy voice that he was so fascinated in, he had drawn up an image of a very beautiful, chiseled jawed,  hazel-eyed brunette. It had been a year since he separated with his long-time girlfriend, Anna.
Jacob’s mother was late and his father had remarried and moved to a far away city. His only brother also lived far from Greenpark, working as a mechanic. Jacob had gotten used to getting along alone. Some people at his workplace thought he had a sort of mental retardation as he always secluded himself from them and acted strange. But he really was just another person striving to  find direction in his life.
Every lunch visiting hour, there would be noises and laughing voices from Mary’s ward, and from other wards surrounding him, yet no one had came to see him since his surgery. Mary lived with an aunt, uncle and an older sister; they were the only family she ever knew.
“Your family sounds very nice,” Jacob remarked the next day, as they sat on their usual place.
“You were eavesdropping on us?” Mary laughed. “ I miss being home so much. I have to go back.” She said, her voice getting low. “I damaged my own eyes,” she said, and swallowed hard. “I uhh, I wanted to commit suicide by drinking a chemical I had in my apartment. It was kept on the top of a cupboard. So when I tried to reach for it, it slipped and poured on the upper part of my face.” She paused, and gasped deeply. “The doctor says my eyes were mostly affected. I’m at least glad that this skin I use expensive moisturisers and toners on, was saved.” She chuckled.
Jacob was silent, listening contemplatively.
“My family doesn’t know that I was thinking of commiting suicide, they think this was all an accident.”
“I’m sorry.” Said Jacob.
“Don’t worry, I’m okay. I realise it was very stupid to get suicidal.” She smiled slightly. “A lot of things led to me getting depressed; not being able to get a job, struggling to pay rent at the apartment I live alone, failed relationships…it’s quite a lot.”
“I wouldn’t know you’ve had a difficult life with all the humor and the quackiness you display,” Jacob told her.
“It’s only now that I realise the challenges that led to my depression made me stronger instead of weaker.You know, the day before the ‘accident’, I had received a reply from my dream job application, saying I didn’t get the job. It was the hammer that drove the last nail.”
“What is your dream job?”
“To be a journalist for the Greenpark Times. It sounds strange but I really just love the affairs of this city.”
“You are an amazing human Mary. I wish I had met you earlier in my life.”
“Aha, because I want to be a journalist?”
“No, you have such a kind spirit I can’t explain.”
“Aand you got that from me wanting to be a journalist?”
Jacob laughed.  “So silly. From our conversations; I've picked out things you did for others; like the time you confronted the random man who was verbally abusing his wife in public; and the time you got a little boy lunch with the last money you had..."
“It was a little girl, and I got her dinner, not lunch. What about you? What inspires you? I've noticed your ward is silent during visiting hours.”
"Uhm, yeah. My family doesn't stay around here."
"And friends?"
"I don't exactly have any."
"No way; you're too friendly to be friendless."
"Well, now that I've met you, maybe i don't have to be so friendless anymore," he said, with a wry smile on his face.

They sat and talked. And laughed, as time went by.
Later on, the nurses came and escorted them back to their wards.
As she lay in bed, that evening, Mary found herself struggling to fall sleep. She could not believe how she was failing to dismiss thoughts about Jacob out of her mind.
Meanwhile, Jacob was listening to the crickets and the birds that night… with Mary on his mind. They lay in their separate beds, in separate rooms, replaying their conversations in their minds…bound together by a string of thoughts about each other, and their bench outside; their happy place.
After her previous toxic relationship, Mary’s life had just down-spiralled. She had not gone to church or opened her Bible in a very long time and drank profusely, getting herself stuck in sinking sand until she contemplated taking her own life…which, apparently, also didn’t go so well.
The following afternoon, after Mary’s sister left towards the end of the visiting hour, Mary heard a strong male voice coming from Jacob’s ward. As she listened, she recognised Pastor David’s voice. He was the local pastor at the city’s largest church. Mary listened as he conversed and laughed with Jacob, and then prayed for him. She couldn’t wait for the next day to ask him about the pastor.
“Miss Mary,” spoke a closer voice. It was the doctor. “How are you feeling today? I have good news for you. From the examination we did in the morning, we have decided to take off your bandages today. If your sight makes good progress without them, you’ll be able to go home tomorrow.”
The doctor summoned two nurses to assist in taking off Mary’s bandages. She was nervous, excited and anxious at the same time.
As soon as they were off, Mary opened her eyes to a  blurry world. The doctor tested her visual acuity and then assured her it would improve with time. She was given an injection and some eye-drops. Mary was glad to see the world again. She was looking forward to recovering quickly and leaving this hospital to restart her life afresh.
Mary heard the doctor move on to Jacob’s ward, where she also removed his bandages. She heard him exclaim with joy how well he could see and how he had missed the colours of the environment. He was even more excited when the doctor said his visual acuity was good enough for him to be discharged that evening.
Jacob stood up from his bed and paced around the ward happily. He looked outside through the window and saw for the first time, the bench where he sat with Mary everyday. It was surrounded by a well-maintained green lawn, with beautiful flowers.
As soon as the doctor and nurses left , Jacob went out of his ward, to Mary’s. He had waited to see her for long enough.
Mary sat up on her bed,  aware of Jacob’s restored sight, and nervous. She heard footsteps and wished they wouldn’t be his, for she wasn’t ready.
She turned. And there in the doorway stood a blue-eyed, blonde man of medium height. He had a small moustache and some loose chin beard, and he just stood; transfixed in the doorway.
She just sat, also transfixed, and for a moment, none of them said a word.
“Mary?” Jacob finally asked. “You are…”
“Black?” she finished the sentence for him.“Yupp.”
She had on a long black weave reaching her back, and big brown eyes. No hazel eyes, and nothing brunette about her 'hair'. Her cheeks were chubby and her nose flat. Different on the outside, yet he knew it was her, from that interesting voice, and that lovely spirit he had fallen in love with.
“Well, it’s good to finally be able to see each other Jacob.”
“Yeah,” he said, and looked around the ward to avoid eye contact. It was too late, she’d already read the surprise on his face.
“I might get to go home today…the doctor said.” Jacob told her.
“Oh that’s good for you,” She pretended she hadn’t heard already. “I hope to go home soon as well.”
“Well, maybe we’ll uhh…meet again someday,” he said, taking some steps back to leave. “See you around.” Those were the last words he said to her, and he was gone.
Mary turned her gaze to the window and looked outside, fighting tears that wanted to flow. She’d hoped there was maybe a little chance that Jacob could have assisted her rebuild her life. But from the look on his face, the hope had been extinguished.
She hadn’t expected him to be of a different colour either,  and it was funny how that had not really popped in her mind the whole time. Neither had it essentially mattered to him. It’s not that he was bothered she was black, or she was bothered he was white…it’s uhm…okay, yes, the difference in skin colour definitely played a role. And it makes no sense, but it’s the reality.
Mary got discharged from the hospital after two days.
A month later, Mary, determined to live stronger and more courageous, started making decisions towards being better. One day, as she was re-arranging her apartment to give it a different look, she went to check her mailbox. Then she realised she had a letter from Greenpark Times. It stated that she had been considered for the journalist post and should come the next Monday for an interview. Mary jumped around with joy.
Her sight had drastically improved, but her eyes needed the aid of spectacles to focus properly.
In two weeks, she was working as a fierce journalist, feeling like her life was beginning to shape-up again. She had got the job without a rigorous interview, as the director said she had been highly recommended by a trusted companion. It was miraculous for Mary.
Two months later,  she found herself at church; where she rededicated her life to the Lord.
After that Sunday service, she went to talk to Pastor David. She expressed her gratitude to God for the transformation in her life, and as she went on telling the Pastor about her life, she spotted Jacob, standing with some people outside the church.
 Pastor David noticed she was looking at him.
“Has he told you?” he asked.
“Who? Told me what?” asked a startled Mary.
“Jacob. You inspired him. Back when you were both admitted at the hospital.”
Mary was surprised.  “I inspired him how?”
“To get off the ground and look at the positive things in my life,” answered Jacob himself, walking towards them. “Hie, Mary.”
“H..hie”
Pastor David excused himself to give these two some space.
“How’ve you been?” asked Jacob.
“Fine. I uhh, I’m working at Greenpark Times now.”
“Oh I heard, congrats.”
“Wait a minute, it was you wasn’t it? The director told me someone had recommended me to him. That must have been you. Not many people know about my love for journalism.”
Jacob just giggled, confirming it.
“Thank you,” said Mary.
“You inspired me. Really. You may not know it but the way you were always happy when we spoke, even though you hid in you some difficulties, encouraged me to be optimistic. So, thank you too."
Mary smiled. She lifted her eyes to meet his.  He gazed past her not-hazel eyes, deep into her soul, the lovely soul he had gotten so deeply acquainted to. They were not standing as two different looking people. They were just standing there as two people, created and loved by the same God.

“Would you like to go out for dinner some time?” Jacob asked her, a smile across his lips.
Mary smiled back. “Yeah, why not?”
And so they walked together from the church, talking and laughing, just as they had on that bench outside the hospital; blindfolded, oblivious to colour – yet awoke to love. Love, flowing from the inside out, blindfolding them again, but this time, to the rest of the world’s negativity.
THE END.

Make peace with your bacteria

I don't consider myself a perfectionist, but for quite a long time i've been an avid disliker of flaws. Be they physical or in character or wherever else they may squeeze themselves on.

Now, disliking flaws when you have them, inevitably, means you find yourself disliking parts of you. If anyone wants to start a fast-growing business today they can come up with an idea that seems to 'fix' what people don't like about themselves. It could be physical appearance (there's the make-up and plastic surgery industries for that), or just spending time alone (social media thriving). 

What has baffled me for a long time though is, why would a perfect God create an imperfect people? Then i thought, uhh, our idea of perfection is probably flawed too.

We have an entire ecosystem of microorganisms that live in and on our bodies that have been found to be actually good for us; like so good we in a successful commensal relationship with them. In fact, we NEED these lil' homies so much that the ones living in our intestines, for example, help us digest our food and stuff.  If a person prolongs their intake of antibiotics, they may kill off the good bacteria and cause a disbalance in their health. However, this good bacteria is still bacteria and can still cause disease in certain conditions (e.g in people with low immunity).

So, no matter how many times a day you're bathing, or 'detoxing' (all good); bacteria will still be there😆...i'm getting to my point, i promise.

Yep, here it is; make peace with it. 

The only person condemning you for what you do wrong right now is yourself. God is not anticipating the next time you fall and He definitely won't be surprised if you do. 

He's not saying be careless with your flaws, He's saying I love you in spite of them. All of you. 

I love a Francesca Battistelli song that says,      "I got a couple dents in my fener,

   Got a couple rips in my jeans

   Trying to fit the pieces together

    But perfection is my enemy

    And on my own I'm so clumsy

    But on Your shoulders I can see

     I'M FREE TO BE ME" 

Have you heard of the other Serenity Prayer?
"Lord, grant me the serenity to stop beating myself for not doing things perfectly,
The courage to forgive myself because I'm working on doing better,
And the wisdom to know that you already love me just the way I am."
Amen.

Each New Dawn.

An orange-red hue on the horizon, bird silhouettes flying against its background, fresh Oxygen, A new day...

We start on a slightly microscopic level :
The sun's rays in a blend of all rainbow colours enthusiastically race each other to touch the atmosphere for this new morning. They greet dew drops retiring for the day as they slip off green leaves. Chlorophyll on the leaves joyfully welcomes the rays; 'Good morning.' The electric life of a new day is transmitted from the leaves, to the branches and down the trunk to the roots in the ground. It overflows onto the soil, bringing each particle alive with the fragrance of a brand new morning. The freshened earth has insects cricking with happiness, passing on new mercies to each other. The harmonised cricking insects, chirping birds, the tranquil flow of streams, and the light waves waltzing with oxygen particles in the air - all compose a masterpiece; the Dawn Song of Nature.

We zoom in to a more macroscopic level:
A human. He hits the snooze button with a hand that threatens to strangle the alarm. Then he slumps off the bed a while later, eyes dreary, mind wondering why nights are always so short. The she next to him also rises, feeling heavy and weary.
 The life in the water they bathe does a somewhat remarkable job in soothing their 'dreary' skins.
Looking into the mirror before doing her make-up, lady stares not in the depth of her soulful eyes but on the surface of the skin she always thinks needs to change, somehow. Her powder gives a closer version of what's more desirable.
The man is looking into his two noted wallet; wondering exactly what he did with the rest of the notes that used to be in there; for the smile on his face hinges on the contents of this wallet.

When they step outside and meet the happy new day, it's just another ordinary morning. Same old world with war, famine, and corruption.

Detail is lost in between terrains of vanity.

Today is The Present. A certain joy should come from just the thought of unwrapping a unique one every morning.

She wasn't ordinary

She knew she was never meant to blend in. 

Sometimes it bothered her how too different she was, how she seemed to be a mutated piece of the rest of society's puzzle. 

She tried this conformity thing but it stung, screaming back at her what she already knew - 'you're not meant to be ordinary.'

Standing out is crazy when everyone else is sitting down and seemingly enjoying it. 

The mistake she made when she tried to stand was watch those that were sitting; they weren't paying attention to her, like she was invisible. And if they did, it was to point out how silly she looked standing. Attention should never have been the reason she stood up. She sat back down. But then, that conformity sting couldn't be ignored.

'Take some pain-killers and forget the pain.' No, Fear, you take a seat as I go for what's meant for me.

So, she stood back up; this time, unconcerned if anyone was looking or not.

 'Expression, not impression,' she reminded herself. 'You don't need an audience.'

She stood not to prove a point to anybody but herself. 'Just how high can I reach?' Her only competition was herself, and she had to win.

She gazed up to the blue sky. It had streaks of soft, wavy white. She kept gazing. A massive blue sky of endless greatness. The more she kept her head up, the less fearful she felt, and the fainter the voices of the seated became.

Walt Whitman's words came to her mind,

'I exist as I am, that is enough. If no other in the world be aware, I sit content. And if each and all be aware, I sit content. One world is aware and by far the largest to me and that is myself. And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand, or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness, I can wait.'

She smiled.

With her right hand, she unclipped her wings, and out they spread in glorious display. Her feet defied gravity and gradually she ascended up, one flap at a time. She soared into the sunset. 

Fun in the furnace

I got into a minibus one day with the funniest conductor. I remember laughing so hard when he said, " Everyone in this country [Zimbabwe] is a freedom fighter. As long as you've lived through 2008, you are a freedom fighter." Indeed, 2008 was the hardest year Zimbabwe had to endure in the 21st century. This was the same year hyper-inflation just hyped up beyond quadrillions and the 'bearer cheques' we used as money couldn't hold any more zeros.  What's interesting for me is, this very same year, was one of the most delightful times of my life.

I lived in Rujeko, Masvingo, with my older brother. It was just the two of us most times. There was no electricity 8 days a week, and no water half the time. If we ran out of no-need-to-cook suppers, we had to buy some firewood from down the street to make food. The firewood was almost always not dry, making it difficult to start the fire. This must have taught me some patience; and some gratitude for whoever discovered electricity😏.

Being in a queit house for most of the day, I spent my time reading, writing and meditating. It was during this time I got to understand of an intimacy with the Most High that I never knew existed. My brother and I would share stuff about the Word of God that would make everything else in this world seem so small. I remember feeling super invincible...like absolutely nothing was impossible. 

Supermarkets were literally empty, some completely closed down. People had to queue up for hours to get basic commodities like sugar, bread or mealie meal. We barely had any school that entire year because teachers were on strike and there wasn't enough food to feed us in boarding school (😁 story for another day). A lot in the country seemed all gloomy. Many were despaired. But it was then that God turned our eyes from worldly cares to Him. Church was the only place I looked forward to going. In fact, I wished everyday would be a Sunday. We held church services in an auditorium in Charles Austin Theatre, in Masvingo's city centre. It didn't matter what I wore or how I looked, all I wanted was to enjoy as much as I could in unified worship to God. I look back now and I remember standing on the dark upper rows of the theatre, raising my hands up as if grasping for air; yearning to be saved from drowning in the sea of worldly things. And when I'd elevate to a higher realm, it was like soaring up high in the sky. It felt indescribably surreal. We had the kind of services where people would be looking for their shoes afterwards. It would be a special kind of chaos in the church as the Holy Spirit ministered to each individual differently, making the congregation look like a bunch of uncontollable psychos who just smoked an entire field of the strongest greens. There's no greater high. There's truly no greater high. Getting to be that incredibly intimate with God is the greatest experience any human being could ever have. 

Now, if anyone asks me how I know about this God I pray to...I can tell them with no scratch of a doubt that I have seen Him. I have seen Him at work in ways no man can comprehend. I have seen Him bring smiles to faces so pale with hunger they don't know where their next meal is gonna come from. I have seen Him instruct hearts to give the last of the little they had. I have seen him light up the darkest of hearts, transforming even those humanity had labelled retarded and discarded to garbage. I tell you, I have seen him sustain people that are just hoping from prayer to prayer coz the world around them bombards them with hopelessness the moment they say Amen. Hope to the despaired, faith to the discouraged, joy to the downcast - the sound of Heaven touching earth.
Troubles, out of our way, we are just passing through to our eternal home far beyond this broken world.

2008 might have been a furnace, but it sure was a glorious one. And we came out glistening; polished. God was, still is, and will forever be God. 

HIS LOVE ENDURES FOREVER.

  

The High

Gosh, in all seriousness, being average drains the energy out of me, because I wasn't wired to be that way. None of us were. It feels as if we've placed ourselves in self-imposed prisons of all things futile, and greatness lurks somewhere beyond the bars.

Everything we need to be the best us there could ever be is already within us. Our bodies themselves, though they be feeble and perishable, are hosts to deep mysteries of divine heavenlies. In our palms, on our skin are inscribed secrets of undiscovered words. The fibers of the billions of nerves traversing each square centimetre of our bodies, carry signals electrical with hidden opportunities.

Some of these mysteries have been revealed to human kind through the years :

For example; the ability of our body parts to communicate with each other, in coordination with the brain centre, gave a base to build electrical conduction . And further understanding of the fact that information travels along fibers in our bodies, brought about telecommunication.

Studying the human eye's ability to focus, turn light rays into images; inspired the invention of cameras. 

The whole intelligence of a computer system is an imitation of some of the human brain's physiological activity.

The cardiovascular system, centralised in the heart, pumping blood to the rest of the body for its efficiency, is the basis for the functioning of a motor engine, distributing fuel or gas to the parts of the vehicle.

There's so much more known; and a whole lot more unknown. 

The complex details to the anatomy and physiology of the human body, are astounding.
Your fingerprint is unique (shocker); we all know this one as we have had to get our fingerprints taken for legal purposes at one point in our lives. However, I had no idea that our ear pattern, tongue texture and iris pattern are unique too!
An adult is made up of about 7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 atoms (that's 7 octillion that you didn't [couldn't] read). For perspective, there's approximately (nobody's sure) 300,000,000,000 (300billion) stars in our galaxy.
And you know what's even more baffling?
These bodies we are in were created so marvelously, all because they'd house the greatest Spirit in the entire universe - the Spirit of God. God is too God to create a flimsy wooden stature, call it man and just dwell in it. Where His Spirit dwells, He furnished with His own Godliness and beauty, adding unique intricate details to each one. Then, He honoured us by giving us authority over all of nature. This is the same God that breathes ferocious stars into existence. He dwells within us.

We are filled with potential that even the universe can't contain. Who knows what greatness is coded onto your DNA?

Decode the mysteries inscribed on you, coz you have the next big thing, on you, in you.

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