Friday, May 29, 2015
I watched a movie many years ago and it left a deep impression upon my heart. A little boy, new in the neighbourhood, got lost. He had gone to a shopping mall with some friends, but due to the large crowds was somehow separated from them.
It got dark before he could be reunited with his friends. Some kind people took the little boy to the police post. When they asked him where home was, the boy could not give them an answer, saying he had not yet memorized the street address. But he could remember the church building in his neighbourhood. He went on to describe the church structure and the cross sitting on top of the building. He also recollected the shining lights on the cross, which were most visible at night. Then he said to the policeman, “Sir, if you could just take me to the cross; I will be able to find my way home”.
An elderly sister in our church recently lost her husband of many years to a very sudden and short illness. Totally lost and devastated she cried, saying that all she wanted at that moment was ‘just to go home’. Where was home, we asked; since we thought that she was already at home.
Home is where the heart longs to be. It is a place where you feel protected, safe from dangers and the unwelcome surprises of this world. Home is where we feel wanted, loved and have a sense of belonging. Home is among familiar people and friendly faces. Home is where you can go when all else falls apart. It is a sanctuary, a solace, a hiding place.
I grew up in the village. The small school was many miles away from home. And because my little feet would get too tired from the walking, my parents therefore asked some relatives living nearer the school to take me in. But as school holidays slowly approached, I would yearn for home, to my own family.
Home means different things to different people at any given time. The little boy needed to find his family’s home; and I longed to be reunited with my own family. But my sister at church longed to go home to the Lord, where her husband had just gone to. She could not bear the thought of being separated from him.
We all at some point in life get to a time when we search for more than just a local location. In times of sorrow, distress, ill-health and broken dreams, the heart takes a journey of its own to a place where it can find healing and hope. Where is that place?
The lost boy gave us a clue. ‘Take me to the Cross, and I will find home’. The Cross has the power to mend, heal and restore any brokenness.
For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Friday, May 22, 2015
My prayer starts from a dream I had recently. In the dream I saw myself in a rural village setup, walking with a little girl. As we got to the rural road leading to town, I remembered something I should have carried with me. The road was not far off from the house we had just left. So I asked the little girl to stand by a tree and wait for me as I ran back to get the item. Rural roads are almost always deserted of traffic until the once-a-day bus passes by.
I meant to be in the house for about five minutes or so; but for some reason I delayed for nearly half an hour. When I eventually came back to the roadside, the little girl was walking down the road and crying after me. Somehow, she had lost sense of where I had disappeared to and was looking for me down the road. I called after her but she kept walking down the road crying. Then I woke up.
Heavenly Father, I pray for the child in my dream who most probably represents some young person somewhere who is aching in their heart because of the loss of their parent or parents. The loss could be a recent one or could have happened many years ago. But they seem unable to come to terms with the loss or find peace and comfort in you. They feel abandoned, lost, with no one to care about their welfare. Those who were supposedly family, relatives or friends seem to have also abandoned them. The memory of their parents has been forgotten and they also feel forgotten.
Hear this young person, dear Father, when they cry out in pain. Speak to them and let them know that you care; and that you love them. Let them also hear when someone close to them is calling out to them, offering a hand of strength and a shoulder to lean on. Life can become a jungle when there is no one paying attention. Sensitize the family and friends and let them hear and see the deep need in this young person’s heart. Stretch out their hand in love and allow this young person to see this and respond positively.
In Jesus’ name we pray.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
My mother never met her father. That was because he died in a gold mine accident soon after she was born. Her new life on earth hence commenced from this tragic beginning. We, her children, grew up knowing and loving our grandmother, who had single handedly raised up her two sons and two daughters. But the person who stands out in my mother’s family is my uncle, her older brother. Not only was he a doting brother to my mother, but was also a father figure to her.
As I look back now, I am so appreciative of the positive influence he had over my mother. He helped in raising her up, even as a young teenage girl. He helped in putting her through formal schooling. When she married my father, it was him that took the responsibility of marrying her off.
What my mother lost at the death of her father, she gained back through the love and strength of her brother. But was this a one-way street of brother looking after his orphaned siblings, or was it a two-way street where the siblings also looked up to their older brother to provide discipline and direction in their lives? From my observation, this was a two-way street.
Today, however, I am in tears over our family. We were blessed enough to grow up under the love, care and provision of both mother and father. But this has not been the case with some of my nephews and nieces whose parents died leaving them at very tender ages. We, the surviving uncles and aunts have preoccupied ourselves with our own small world, leaving them to figure out their own world as best as they can. They, on their own part, have also stubbornly refused to seek the counsel of their elders over their lives. We can argue over who is to blame as much as we want, but this is not going to resolve the impasse. We watch them struggling around trying to make it in life with that look that says, ‘I am my own person and will make it in life somehow’.
The Bible is full of persons who made something of their lives despite early difficulties in life. One such person is the great Priest Samuel (1 Samuel 1:24-28). In fulfilment of a vow made to the Lord, the parents brought him to live in the Temple from a very early age. He became an altar boy under the supervision of the then Priest Eli. The calling upon Samuel’s life was such that his parents had to give him up completely even though he was still a child. He had to grow up without the love, care and protection of his parents. But God had made provision for Samuel; through the guidance and supervision of an old Priest called Eli. Eli raised the boy and taught him to hear and listen to the voice of God from an early age (1 Samuel 3:1-10). And the priesthood of Samuel became better known and acknowledged in all Israel than that of the elderly Eli.
One woman of influence mentioned in the Bible is Mary the mother of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Mary’s parents are not mentioned in Bible; except that she was a young girl betrothed to a young man by the name of Joseph. But when the Angel declared the pregnancy of her son through the power of the Holy Spirit, God led her to a mature and spirit-filled woman called Elizabeth (Luke 1:26-56). This godly woman Elizabeth, who was also pregnant took it upon herself to nature Mary and give her the strength and support she needed at such a complicated time of her life. For three months Mary lived in house of Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah; months that prepared her for motherhood.
May I also mention Queen Esther, who as a young orphan girl was brought into King Xerxes’s harem to be one of his concubines. It was a despicable state of affairs; but God through her uncle Mordecai and the harem attendants brought counsel and strength to the girl. God gave her such beauty and poise that she was chosen among many in the harem to take the vacant position relinquished by Queen Vashti as Queen of Persia.
In the book of Exodus, Baby Moses was left to the fate of a flowing river, with the hope that the Princess of Egypt would notice him when she and her maids came for their daily pool bathing. He was picked up, grew up as a Prince in Pharaoh’s court, and later became the great leader to liberate the nation of Israel under its slavery in Egypt.
Jacob the father of the nation of Israel, as a young man became a fugitive, having stolen from his brother Esau the fatherly blessing. But his mother had given him good advice to run to his uncle Laban in Paddan Aram (Genesis 28). Laban took advantage of Jacob’s predicament and had him as his labourer for nearly twenty years. But despite Laban’s cheating games, Jacob excelled in everything he put his hand and mind on. He ended up with two wives, twelve children and huge wealth in terms of cattle, sheep and goats.
Jacob’s son Joseph was sold to slavery by his own brothers (Genesis 37&39). They perceived him as a good-for-nothing, spying and father-favoured little brother and they connived among themselves to get rid of him. But God, in His sovereign grace, placed people in Joseph’s life to help him succeed despite his odds. Joseph later became the Prime Minister of Egypt and through his wise management managed to save the nation of Egypt as well as his own people, Israel from a seven year hunger.
What are we to learn from these examples?
God never leaves us clueless; despite whatever predicament we find ourselves in. He has given us His Word to lead and guide us; but He has also placed people in our lives to provide His counsel and direction. These people may not be the ones we would prefer having in our lives, but they could nevertheless be the very people God would use to progress our lives. If I had been Hannah, the mother of Samuel, would I have left my baby boy in the care of an ailing old Priest? But she had to trust God to watch over her son. He promises ‘never to leave us nor forsake’ (Hebrews 5:5); a ‘father to the fatherless’ (Psalm 68:5).
Sometimes we are too engrossed in blaming God for the disadvantaged positions we find ourselves in, but fail to notice how He is placing people and resources in our path so that our lives would turn out for the better. Placing yourself under the supervision of another may not necessarily be the most enjoyable of choices, but it is the wisest nevertheless. Trust God and trust His grace. Prophet Elijah survived a drought and hunger ravaging the land of Israel, through the humble generosity of a poor widow (1 Kings 17:9-16). Trust God.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
This Easter, I just want you to know that I am so thankful for the thorns in my life. They draw me more to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, as I picture the crown of thorns deeply digging into his bleeding skull as he hung on the Cross at Calvary. All that, for my sins. He died so that I may live; truly live. I am deeply thankful.
Here is a story I picked up from the internet.
Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like spring breeze. Then, in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease.
During this Thanksgiving week, she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren’t enough, her husband’s company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come. What’s worse, Sandra’s friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer.
“She has no idea what I’m feeling,” thought Sandra with a shudder. Thanksgiving? Thankful for what? She wondered. For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” The shop clerk’s approach startled her.
“I….I need an arrangement,” stammered Sandra.
“For Thanksgiving? Do you want beautiful but ordinary,” asked the shop clerk, “or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the ‘Thanksgiving ‘Special?’ Are you looking for something that conveys ‘gratitude’ this Thanksgiving?”
“Not exactly!” Sandra blurted out. “In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong.” Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the shop clerk said, “I have the perfect arrangement for you.”
Then, the door’s small bell rang, and the shop clerk said, “Hi, Barbara, let me get your order.” She politely excused herself and walked toward a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped; there were no flowers.
“Want this in a box?” asked the clerk.
Sandra watched for the customer’s response. Was this a joke?
Who would want rose stems with no flowers! She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.
“Yes, please,” Barbara replied with an appreciative smile.
“You’d think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn’t be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again.” She said as she gently tapped her chest.
“Uh,” stammered Sandra, “that lady just left with, uh….she just left with no flowers!”
“Right, said the clerk, “I cut off the flowers. That’s the Special. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.”
“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me someone is willing to pay for that!” exclaimed Sandra.
“Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling much like you feel today,” explained the clerk. “She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing major surgery.
“That same year I had lost my husband,” continued the clerk, “and for the first time in my life, had just spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.”
“So what did you do?” asked Sandra.
“I learned to be thankful for thorns,” answered the clerk quietly. “I’ve always thanked God for good things in life and never to ask Him why those good things happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time for me to learn that dark times are important. I have always enjoyed the ‘flowers’ of life, but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God’s comfort.
“You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we’re afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others.”
Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about the very thing her friend had tried to tell her. “I guess the truth is I don’t want comfort. I’ve lost a baby and I’m angry with God.”
Just then someone else walked in the shop. “Hey, Phil!” shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man.
“My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement—twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!” laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.
“Those are for your wife?” asked Sandra incredulously. “Do you mind me asking why she wants something that looks like that?”
“No, I’m glad you asked,” Phil replied. “Four years ago, my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord’s grace and guidance, we slogged through problem after problem. He rescued our marriage. Jenny here told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she learned from ‘thorny’ times, and that was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific ‘problem’ and give thanks for what that problem taught us.”
As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, “I highly recommend the Special!”
“I don’t know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life.” Sandra said to the clerk. “It’s all too…fresh.”
“Well,” the clerk replied carefully, “my experience has shown me that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God’s providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don’t resent the thorns.”
Tears rolled down Sandra’s cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. “I’ll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please,” she managed to choke out.
“I hoped you would,” said the clerk gently. “I’ll have them ready in a minute.”
“Thank you. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year’s arrangement is always on me.”
The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. “I’ll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you would like to read it first.”
It read: My God, I have never thanked You for my thorns. I have thanked You a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant.”
Praise Him for your roses, thank Him for your thorns.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
It started off as a normal working day. The only strange thing about it was that I kept getting this urge to pray for my second child who was three years old at that time. The prayer burden was with me throughout the day and I took a break every hour or so to go and kneel down on the toilet floor and pray for my child. Later in the afternoon as the burden continued, I called home to check on him but the baby minder did not pick up the phone.
At the end of the day I knocked off work and walked my usual thirty minutes that I took to get home, which was located in the city center outskirts. I got home to find my older son who was eight years old then, seated with his friends in our living room. The baby was nowhere in sight and nor was the child minder. Before I could ask, my little boy blurted out saying that the baby had been knocked by a car. I stood there in the living room refusing to hear what I just heard. Then the little group of friends all stood up, came to me and as if they had been rehearsing all day, said in one voice that what my boy had said was true.
I shivered, sat down, tried to think but could not. I only managed to cry ‘God.. .’ That cry managed to clear my mind a bit. I went to the telephone and called my brother and told him what the children had told me. He asked for more information, I did not have it, other than that I was now rushing to the hospital to find out. In my mind I had the worst scenario and I did not want to even talk about that. Next, I phoned my Pastor and asked him to pray for me.
I was already a single mum by then and had no one else to lean on, so I picked up my handbag and told the little fellows that I was going to the hospital and they were to take my son to one of their homes and lock my door after them. They seemed to understand what I was going through; I actually felt as if I had a group of little men surrounding me with their love and concern. It was written all over their sad faces.
Outside I flagged down a taxi. I was all tears and just mumbled ‘hospital’ to the driver. At the hospital I rushed straight to the emergency ward. From the Inquiries counter I was referred to the children’s ward. The ward nurse I spoke to was heartless, to say the least. After my question she simply said, ‘your child died an hour ago’! I flopped right by her desk to the floor. A parent standing nearby came to my rescue and pulled me to a chair. Weakly I asked the nurse if she was sure about what she had just said. Of course she was, she said and went on to give me the child’s name and age. It was not my son. I stumbled from the chair back to the Inquiries counter. There they told me to search for my son in the always packed waiting room, he was not there. Next they referred me to the doctor’s waiting room.
As I entered that room packed with patients waiting in a queue to the doctor’s cubicle, I saw my child minder. Next to her was my little boy lying on the bench they were sharing. His head rested on a small cushion placed on the girl’s lap. My son had been bumped on the head by a vehicle as they crossed the road from the shopping center. The girl had been negligent, allowing the child to walk playfully on his own while she walked on ahead of him. The driver of the car had rushed them to hospital.
This accident had happened around 3 in the afternoon and yet when I got to the hospital at about 5.30 in the evening, my child had not yet been attended to! I took my child in my arms and prayed for him. Next I carried him past all the waiting patients straight to the doctor’s cubicle. As the patient being attended to came out I rushed in and placed my boy on the examination table, crying and at the same time explaining what had happened. The doctor was shocked that the child had waited so long before getting treatment. He had since stopped crying, the girl said and now was just lying limp, almost lifeless. He had a bump at the back of his head from the knock and a gushing wound on the forehead from the fall.
Towards mid night I left the hospital with my baby strapped behind my back. I had to walk home in the dark streets since taxis were long gone but my son was alive! He had been x-rayed and they did not find any extensive damage to his head. I knew in my heart that it was the power of prayer that had saved him from death. From the way the girl had explained and considering the amount of blood he had lost and the time it took to get treatment I realized that it was God who has seen him through this ordeal. Praise God for SimbaraShe (God’s power) which also happens to be my little boy’s name.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
I was talking to a young Christian friend from a sister church a couple of months ago. She opened her heart to me and told me about how she was struggling to walk righteously before God.
Before she became a Christian she had allowed herself to indulge in any kind of 'fun'. But now that she was a Christian she was beginning to feel uncomfortable about some of the night spots she and her friends always frequented. The Sunday preachings would stir her conscience and urge her to keep away from ungodly socializing, but the pull of her friends was too strong to resist. She tried to make new friends at church but she always felt that they were not her type; they appeared to be too 'straight' and unreal for her.
As she waited for my response, I tried to think of some word to encourage her with. All I could think of was to tell her to try harder to make friends with the straight girls and just forget about her worldly friends. But in my heart I knew that it was easier said than done. The reason why she had opened up to me, an older and mature Christian, was because she needed help for a problem she was finding difficult to resolve.
I prayed silently for the Holy Spirit to help me. And while I waited for guidance, I asked her a few questions about her church family. In my studies on Soul Care by Dr Larry Crabb, I had learnt that it was God’s intention for every human being to live in a relationship where four things ought to happen – to be known, deeply known; to be explored; to be discovered and to be touched. Was this happening to her through her church family, I wondered?
The Holy Spirit then brought to my mind the story about Moses on Mount Sinai, as he entered into the Presence of God to receive the Ten Commandments. When he came back down the mountain, the Bible said that his face shown like an angel's. The people around him were so terrified of the glory on Moses' face that they hid their faces from him. This story is from Exodus chapter 34, particularly verses 29 & 30.
So I opened my Bible and shared this story with my young Christian friend. She asked me what this meant for her. As I sensed from the Spirit of God, I explained to her that God did not want her to be bothered about how to let go of her old lifestyle or how to choose new friends. He wanted her to spend more time with Him by reading the Bible. As she drew closer to God, His glory would become more and more evident in her life. Her old friends would notice, and slowly but surely draw away from her. She wouldn’t have to struggle with keeping their company. If God would want them to stay her friends then they would be drawn to her glory; otherwise because of the sin in them, they would now avoid her presence.
What my young friend needed was more of God's Word in her, and all her spiritual struggles would no longer be an issue. Today this girl radiates Christ as she ministers in her church through music. In my own personal walk with God over the years, I have discovered with joy that all my struggles can be easily resolved by simply spending more time in God’s Word.