HALUWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

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It’s likely I will lose a quarter of my readership by starting this way. Then again, it is just as probable I will gain a similar following if not more, so here goes…

Dede. Dede Ayew. Passes it to Gyan. Asamoah Gyan. Back to Kevin Prince Boateng. Boateng for the Black Stars. This looks dangerous. He shoots……

HALLUUUWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!

1-0  to Ghana. 1-0 to the Black Stars. What a beautiful goal by Kevin-Prince- Boateng…

The above excerpt pretty much sums up commentary of a World Cup Match in 2010. It may not be word for word but it is something very much close. That’s if you were tuned in to KBC that is. There was this particular commentator who had a rather interesting way of celebrating a goal. Others would term it, passionate, unorthodox, eclectic or eccentric even. Take your pick, English is a language replete with adjectives. This commentator would say, “HALUWAAAAH” with the passion of that guy who screams ‘IKIBAMBA SANA WAPI NDURU!!!!’ except his was in a much deeper, reverberating voice.

Sometime back I used to believe I could be a commentator. Not having a job forces you to explore unconventional alternatives to earn a living, being a commentator was one of them.  Si I knew football? Si I knew English? What else was there to it? Somewhere down the line that interest tapered off. The dream died or maybe it’s in a coma on life support in my mind somewhere. I guess commentators like the Haluwaah guy compelled me to do some serious soul-searching and rethink my interest in football commentary.

Every 4 years, that Haluwaaah guy will go all Haluwaaah when a goal is scored in the World Cup. But, who am I to complain about it? That’s his style. His signature. We love him for it. Maybe one day I will figure out what Haluwaaah actually means. For now, I will stick to blogging about it and using it metaphorically for my blog post.

The Haluwaah guy exclaims Haluwaah with a particular charisma and exuberance that resonates with my soul. Every goal is greeted with his customary, vociferous ululation. Irrespective of how good the goal actually was, the decibel levels of HALUWAAHH are significantly high. Whether the goal was like Gareth Bale’s overhead kick recently, whether it was an awkward one like Chicharito’s goal with his face against Chelsea in the community shield of 2010; Mr. Haluwaah will still voice out his delight with rapturous applause. That guy deserves every penny of his salary on the basis of those celebrations alone.

Do you know that God delights in you even more than that Haluwaa guy? I mean, seriously, he delights in you. Some may find this notion alien and I don’t blame you for it, but imagine with me, think of God going Haluwaahhhhh for you just being you.

We are prone to believe that God is a joy-killer. That he delights in nothing more than to crash our parties and yank us away from anything fun. God is perceived to be a being with a permanent scowl on his face. Perpetually prim, solemn and sombre, impossible to please. We think of him as the party-pooper peering from the heavens, waiting for that moment we engage in any sort of revelling, to bludgeon us with his baton to get us back on track.

Contrary to our beliefs, nothing could be farther from truth. God does delight in us. He raves about us. His word tells us so. How’s Zephaniah 3:17 for starters, “The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”

That’s something to mull over. God, creator-in-chief, taking delight in us, rejoicing over us with singing! It doesn’t stop there. Another indicator of God delighting in us is found in the Psalms. The book is not just about the various psalmists taking pleasure in God but they also speak of God revealing his affection towards us. Take Psalms 8:4, which says, “O Lord what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him. That he repeats more or less the same thing in Psalms 144:3 is extremely noteworthy. Repetition in poetry serves to underline a key point. Here I conclude it underscores the scarcely believable fact that we occupy God’s thoughts. God regards us with an ethereal fondness and affection. It is both comforting and stupefying. That he loves as such is delightful, that he does so in spite of us not having anything to warrant this affection or considering we constantly fall short of his holiness; it is equally mind-boggling.

The psalmist again reveals how numerous God’s thoughts are towards him in another chapter. It reads, “How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered. I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up you are still there.” (Psalms 139:17-18 NLT) The same could be said of us. We are in his thoughts that much! Surely this is indicative of how God delights in us.

Or to put it better, think of being a parent, or an uncle or an aunty. Think of that baby you love so much, cooing and prattling away in his/her romper. All the while, you stare at them, thinking how adorably cute they are and just wanting to be with them. As God’s children and I should say babies when you consider he’s been around for more than centuries, he loves us just as much.

1 John 3:1 mentions how great God’s love is for us that we should be called his children and that is what we are. God is decidedly affectionate towards us. He wants to fellowship with us and be intimate with us.

At this point, I must remind you the psalmist, David, who waxed lyrical about God’s love towards him, was flawed. He had an affair with Bathsheba, and killed her husband to cover it up after failing in earlier attempts like getting him drunk. He floundered as a father, some of his sons revealing that much. His son Amnon for instance, raped his sister Tamar. Amnon ended up being killed by his vengeful brother Absalom. David’s son Absalom then  tried to overthrow him and briefly succeeded, going as far as sleeping with David’s concubines (2 Samuel 16:21-22). Talk of a family with drama galore!

Later on, David, possibly in pride, took a census of his fighting men. It was an action that did not sit well with God, resulting in the deaths of thousands of innocents. His mistakes were very costly. Yet in spite of those flaws, he knew God still regarded him highly. God still spoke highly of him terming him, ‘a man after my own heart.’

David knew God still loved him. Whether floundering in sin, or flourishing in righteousness, his love doesn’t change. He still looks on us with a fondness. He still yearns to be with us if we let him. God is sort of a gentleman, he won’t impose himself on you. He will impress on you, beckon you and wait for you to draw to him by your initiative.

As we celebrate the goals during the World Cup, as we jump up off our seats in delirium, let us know there is a God who is also going ggaga for you.

I reckon he is up there or in my spirit saying, “Oh, look, look, he’s confessing to his accountability partner and resolving to pursue sexual purity again. I love my son’s tenacity. Awesome!!!” 

“My daughter is not using her looks to manipulate people much as people are tempting her to do so. I bless you child!!!”

“Look at her. She is refusing to conform to the culture around her. She isn't tearing herself apart trying to fit in. She is staying true to my word and her principles based on it. Haluwaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!”

“Look at him sharing his testimony of me in his life to unbelievers. Awww, it’s so cute the way he is stuttering and stammering to my glory. That’s my boy, don’t keep the faith, spread it all around, I’ll do the rest.”

I can imagine him, grinning, swelling with pride, as he watches us strive to glorify and honor him. Just the way we purr at the sight of baby’s smile, or a jerk of the foot, or a cute attempt at saying mama or daddy or any word, God delights in our actions however small we may think them to be. We may walk around with drooped shoulders because of our shame. We may carry with us, a prodigal-son mindset and not think ourselves worthy because of our dalliances with sin and our numerous compromises. He still loves us. He delights in us when we own up and get back up. It’s not the perfection he raves about, it’s the getting back up to pursue it that delights him.

Sometimes it isn’t always because of our activity. Sometimes just for the fact that we put our trust in him, that we go to bed and sleep over our troubles has him purring. Sometimes when we are meek to trust that we will right the wrongs against us and not insist on getting even;that pleases him. Sometimes when we insist on not taking matters into our own hands and let his sovereignty surprise us, he delights in us. Sometimes it is just a matter of being still, taking his rest, casting our anxieties on him.

Haluwaah isn’t just an exclamation of commentator, it is a small, small semblance of the delight God has in you as his child. The commentator will stop when the tournament’s over. God will continue till he call’s you home and all through to eternity. That’s  is worth a tonne of haluwaahhs in my view and definitely reason for me to live for him all the days of my life thankful and striving to honor him. HALLUWAAHHHHH!!!!

Whine or wine?

Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas from Pexels

 

Mr I will be successful, u just wait…

Now that’s a statement of intent, if ever you heard one. It hogs you attention by the mere sighting of it.  Years back that was my Facebook profile bio. Captivating, concise and exuding confidence. I’m sure the folks at Cambridge Analytica reached that very same conclusion.

Funny enough, I deleted my account years later but you know what they say, “The Internet never forgets.” How could it forget?  A statement of such epic proportions was just too good to be deleted.  And so, my old bio was obliged to resurface when I googled my name. You might wonder why I was googling my own name in the first place. Don’t ask me that, that’s a story for another day. Besides, admit it, you’ve probably done the same or if not, have thought of doing it.

Anyway, before I digress, back to my awesome bio. As I was saying, the internet could not bear the terrifying thought of losing such a riveting bio. Quite simply unthinkable a prospect. Maybe I should also add that I never deleted my Pinterest account which was linked to my old Facebook account. This could perhaps explain why my old bio is still around. I prefer the Internet not forgetting. It’s a more plausible explanation. When I think about it, I drafted that statement in 2008 or 2009. Almost 10 years have come and gone and I am still, ‘Mr I will be Successful, u just wait.’

You would think I’d have a story to tell. You would think by now I’d have a stable job, a flourishing and fulfilling career, a loving wife, 2 lovely kids, a villa near Two Rivers, a top or the range, Range. Well, I don’t. I’m still trying to figure out how to monetize the talents and the education I got. I’m still single. I’m still living with my parents. My Shoe-baru impreza is still going on strong. Back then, when I drafted the statement, I was almost 20, now I am almost hitting the proverbial ‘third-floor’ while spotting a couple of white hairs.

It’s not that I haven’t tried. It’s not that I delight in not having work, or not having a family. Life just hasn’t panned out as I thought it would. Does it really anyway?

You plan to move out by 24, get your first million by 27, marry by 28, and have kids by 31. Then through personal experience you discover that, “In his heart a man plans his course but the Lord determines his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). You set about charting the course for your life only to end up veering off course. 

Through the pit stops and detours you discover that, “Many are the plans in a man’s heart but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”(Proverbs 19:21). You realize those 5 year or 10 year plans are just that, plans. You conclude like Jeremiah did, “I know, O LORD, that a man’s life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps.”(Jeremiah 10:23)

That can be quite frustrating given that people will compare you to the above or similar timelines. Some will ask, “Why can’t you be like nani?” This being in reference to your more illustrious colleague, relative or neighbor. All the while you are supposed to be still and know that He is God (Psalms 46:10). This doesn’t come easy, you know.

Ecclesiastes paints a true depiction of these events in chapter 9, verse 11, which reads, “The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all.”

I’m patiently waiting for time and chance to happen, they seem to be taking their sweet time though. Good thing there’s Lamentations 3:31-33. I sup up the encouragement therein, which reads, “For men are not cast off by the Lord for ever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.”

I draw comfort knowing that, “He made everything beautiful in it’s time.”(Ecclesiastes 3:11) That includes my future which obviously I am yet to see. God’s sight is not limited to the present or past. He doesn’t operate on a linear scale and isn’t confined to a time-space continuum.

All the above doesn’t mean it’s easy to wait. It’s hard. It really is. You know they are different kinds of waiting. There is waiting for a politician to fulfill his pre-election pledge. There’s waiting for Arsenal to win the EPL. Painful, oh so painful waiting. There is waiting for someone to apologize for a wrong you perceive they committed against you. There is waiting for that cute chick or guy to notice you and un-friendzone you. There is waiting for the pay check at the end of January.

Then there’s waiting for a break-through. Waiting for the AHA moment when you finally extricate yourself from whatever malaise you’ve been in. There’s waiting for your back to heal 2 years on. That’s my story.

That waiting is especially difficult when you look around and see people you know seemingly flourishing in their careers, being interviewed by journalists, some making the Top 40 under 40. You attend their weddings, you see them drive their cars, share pictures of their cute babies on social media. You’re happy for them. You are. Unfortunately, you can’t shake that nagging question, “Na mimi je?” You’re almost pre-conditioned to compare yourself to them and inadvertently, you wallow in self-pity as a result.

Truth is that everyone has their own season of waiting. Everyone has their own wilderness. Everyone has their own winter, that lengthy interlude of seemingly being dormant and mark-timing in the periphery of life so to speak.

That waiting for me has been a blessing in disguise. I’ve had no stable job to identify myself or define myself by. Neither have I had a girlfriend whom to place my identity in. My wallet has been more accustomed to business cards rather than bank notes in that space of time. Lasagna has had to take a back seat in favour of KDF and CMB (Chapati mbili beans). As a result, I’ve learnt that money doesn’t determine my self-worth. Waiting in the winter teaches you these things.

As a believer, I am compelled to find my self-worth in Jesus. It’s at that point when Acts 17: 28 comes alive, “For in him we live and move and have our being.”

Who I am is not my job. Who I am is not my ministry. Who I am is not where I serve in church. Who I am is not the phone I have. Who I am is not the clothes or shoes I wear, whether bought from Deacons or from Soko in Kawangware. Who I am is not the restaurant I go to, whether Talisman or a kibanda. Who I am is not the mode of transport I use, whether a 46 or an Uber X.

Who I am is not in how cool I am or how much I can keep up with all the latest trends. Who I am is not where I live in, whether in a maisonette or in a bedsitter, whether in Lavington or Eastlands.

Who I am is not in how many ladies I sleep with neither is it in how many ladies I can make swoon over me. It’s not in how charming or funny or cool I can be through the memes, parodies or vines I share.  Who I am is not the money in my pocket, neither is it in the money I make. Who I am is not the no of followers I have on social media neither is it the no of likes I amass from what I post.

Who I am is that I am a child of God because I believe in Jesus. (John 1:12-13) Being a child of God makes me a Prince, an heir to a glorious inheritance. (Romans 8:17) It makes me royalty, a royal priesthood to be precise. (1 Peter 2:9) Moreover, I am his ambassador, a diplomat representing the Kingdom of God and appealing to others to come and be a part of it. (2 Corinthians 5:20) I am known by him, I am secure in him and I am loved by him.   

Who I am is that I am a saint. A saint who hasn’t got it all together. A saint who succumbs to temptation sometimes but a saint who will get back up by God’s grace and will continue to wrestle with sin till Jesus calls me home. Whether jobless, single, broke, my worth doesn’t change and most times it takes being stripped of the above earthly measures of self-worth to realize that.

I may be assailed by affliction. The winds of doubt and adversity may threaten to blow me away. I will not fall apart like a house of cards because Christ is the rock solid foundation I stand on. It takes the ivy-league education the winter provides to know this.

The winter is not a period to be spent whining and comparing myself to others or perceived societal norms. I can’t go about griping that 5 years since my graduation and still no financial stability. I can’t be entitled to solicit pity from others and let my pride convince me that people should feel woiyee for me.

The winter is not to be shuddered but embraced. This period of adversity or affliction is not to be seen as a time of being cursed by the devil. Instead, it is to be seen as a time of building. It is to be seen as a time when God refines you like silver, when God makes a diamond of you through the furnace of affliction and dry spells.

Winter isn’t the justification to leave God based on the assumption that things with Jesus should be nywwee just like Airtel. God never said it would be easy. He did say he would always be there with you. (Hebrews 13:5). God does his best work in the waiting.

Fairly often, we are not ready to receive the blessings God has for us. It takes God to use the winter to shape and mould us to worthy recipients of the blessings. Our Money over Everything Culture (MOE) predisposes us to shortcut our way to the blessing. We view the winter as an unnecessary inconvenience. A journey to be side-stepped at all costs. Truth is we need it. We need God to prune us during this period and make us more fruitful for whatever purposes he had for us.

David was made a king in those years of wilderness as a fugitive not when he was appointed by Samuel. Abraham was made a father of faith in those 24/25 years of waiting for God’s promise. That Quarter century took his faith to unprecedented levels. It taught him to trust God to provide an heir even when faced with the test of sacrificing his only son and heir.  Moses became a leader fit to lead a people for 40years of wandering since he himself wandered in the winter for almost a similar period. Years of obscurity in the wilderness prepared him for years in authority leading the Israelites in the wilderness.

And Jesus? We know Jesus started his ministry at 30. At 12, Jesus was able to reason with the teachers in the temple (Luke 2:41-47). Surely then couldn’t he have started his ministry before 30? Couldn’t he have started at 29? Couldn’t he have started at 27? Couldn’t he have started at 24, that time when most of us are fresh out of campo and yearn to get a job from the get-go? How long did he have to wait in the wilderness of obscurity? 2 years? 3 years? 5 years? 6 years? 7 years?

The way I see it, I think he waited even longer. When you think about it, he didn’t start planning for his ministry when he checked into Earth, it was long before. Long before his parents were born. Long before his great grandparents. God started planning our salvation way before. After Adam sinned, Jesus was prophesied to be the one who would crash the serpent’s heal. (Gen 3:15) Jesus didn’t wait for years. He didn’t wait for decades. He waited for centuries, to come on earth to die for us on the cross.

He gave us his Spirit to be our helper in the waiting. He gave his Spirit to work on us to will and to act according to his good purpose (Phil 2:13), to shape and mould us to his likeness. He gave us his Spirit to remind us where our identity truly lies, in him, and not in our circumstances as we  are prone to forget. We are esteemed because we have Jesus. Not because we work. Not because we have a spouse. Not because we have children. Not because of our possessions or behavioural qualities. Having Jesus makes us esteemed. Even in the waiting when we lack, we are esteemed.

Comedian Basketmouth once said they were two things… I concur and add you have two choices. You can whine. You can complain. You can cry serikali all you want. You can play victim and gripe about how the world has conspired against you. Or you can drink the wine of the waiting. Imbibe copious amount of it. Drink it to its dregs. Drink it in sips or take a deep long draught of it.

Jesus drank his cup of suffering during crucifixion. We too, can drink the bitter wine of pain, adversity, affliction and waiting. Afterwards you can savour the wine’s aftertaste of sweetness as you realize how God used it all to build you up and refined you. You can savour how you mature and age gracefully as wine does while you wait in God’s cellar. Waiting while he conforms you to his likeness in the wine cask of the winter.

Don’t just yearn for that blessing that seems to be taking ages to come. You are already blessed, you’re blessed to know the blesser and be loved by him. Take a sideways look at it like James does in James 1:9 when he says, “The brother in humble circumstances ought to take pride in his high position.” Did you see it? The HUMBLE circumstances are a HIGH position. I agree they are a high position because the blesser seeks to use the humble circumstances of the winter to ELEVATE you in your relationship with him.

Which one will it be as you wait? Griping or Growing? Moaning or Moulding? Victim or Victor? Whine or wine?

Don't let it pass you by

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Cheza chini. Shkun. Chorea. Mtiaji. Should the aforementioned words bare some semblance of Kiswahili but you haven’t the slightest idea what they mean, fret not. You are in good company. Neither did I and for the longest time I wasn’t even close to figuring out what they mean. Such is the evolving and progressive nature of Sheng. One word today, a different word tomorrow. Not that I needed any reminders that I was growing old, but there you go. In a few years’ time, sheng will progress faster than I can keep up and a host of words will just end up passing me by.

Not that they haven’t already. One time I was watching a football match when someone cried out, “Nyoka!” The cry was a loud one so I’m pretty sure most people heard it. Ordinarily, you would expect such a cry would result in people scampering in all manner of directions. That, or people yelling hysterically as they jump off the ground hoping the said snake wouldn’t snap at their heels. Neither reaction was forthcoming. On the contrary, the players and spectators were completely unperturbed. Their tranquil disposition, as they remained preoccupied with the game, led me to believe that the word, ‘nyoka’, had to have an alternate meaning than the one I had earlier thought. I was later to discover ‘nyoka’ was sheng to describe the misfortune of failing to control a pass, with the ball rolling under or over one’s foot as a result.

I wish the experience above was an isolated one. It wasn’t. Years back, another memorable incident occurred at Toi Market. I was whiling away the afternoon at Toi as was custom. Back then, I was very fond of window-shopping. Ignorance is bliss and so the saying goes. It is bliss except when you buy an item and later discover you could have bought it for far less had you known comparative prices. Ignorance then becomes regrettable. Window-shopping was thus of utmost significance so as to ensure I got a good deal rather than regretting later because of spur-of-the-moment buying.

As you may already know, vendors in that part of town can be quite persistent. They afford you VIP treatment as they beckon you to pass by their stall, haranguing their compatriots who try to convince you otherwise.  “Brathe jeans, khaki,” they inquire. More often than not I would politely decline except for this one time. One guy’s display of second-hand apparel had a particular allure and so I drew closer to take a longer look.

One item of clothing in particular appealed to me. I studied it keenly giving the impression I would buy it. I can’t quite remember what exactly the clothing item was but I do recall the ensuing dialogue between me and the vendor….

“Unaezaje?”

“Rwabe.”

“Ati?” I asked ( I heard what he said, it’s just the word sounded so alien I wanted to confirm my ears weren’t pulling a fast one on me.)

“Rwabe, uko na ngapi?”The vendor continued.

I politely told him I didn’t have anything and would return when I did. With minimal fuss, I walked away never to see him again.

Never have I been a fan of card games, but at that moment, I wore a seriously convincing poker face. I masked my ignorance of sheng pretty well because I hadn’t a clue what he meant by rwabe. I was in no mood to ask either. Why bother the man with a question on a word of sheng if I wasn’t going to buy anything from him? That sounded plain rude to me so I did the easier thing of keeping mum and walking away.

I would belatedly learn he meant shs 200. Were I to go to Toi today or Soko in Kawangware or Kongo, I’m sure a new monetary term in sheng will have me just as confused.  I think the confusion I have is not too dissimilar from the one people have when they encounter the message of the gospel or of God’s grace.

As much as the message can be communicated in  English, Kiswahili or Sheng, the message of the gospel can be so difficult to sink in for some. When you present the narrative of God, incarnating himself as a baby, it will no doubt draw incredulous stares. When you go on to explain that you don’t have to earn his love or forgiveness but he already did it for you by offering himself as a one-time sacrifice for your mistakes, it sounds too good to be true. Ridiculous even. Isn’t religion supposed to be about earning God’s love by righteous acts, what do you mean I don’t have to earn God’s love? What do you mean by ‘Grace’?

Grace has been confounding to many and I think this is why. Grace is God’s undeserved favour to an individual or a group in spite of their sins. Love is said to be blind, grace is when God turns a blind eye on your flaws and lavishes you with his blessings.  In spite of the skeletons in one’s closet, he still is compassionate and kind towards you. Grace is intricately related to mercy, which is about God withholding punishment that is deserved.

“I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion. It does not, therefore, depend on man’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy.” (Romans 9:15-16). That just illustrate how mercy and grace ranks in God’s eyes. That can be difficult to wrap your head around. Then again, when you consider  God’s ways are higher than our ways and his thoughts are higher than our thoughts (Isaiah 55:9), it makes plenty of sense.

To put it in perspective, think about the sins you dabble with. The ones you chose to be silent about and desperately pray no-one finds out about them. The ones that people would cringe at if they did and talk behind your back in hushed tones. Those are the very ones God pardons when you accept Jesus into your life. They are the sins he chooses to blot out and remember no more, not just for your sake but his as well. (Isaiah 43:25) Not only that, but even when you lapse to that sin, even when you struggle to rid yourself of committing them, grace means that Jesus still loves you and identifies you as a child of God in spite of those struggles.(John 1:12) A child of God? Despite my struggles to be holy?

Huh? Too good to be true? Too simplistic.  Too implausible for a world that is naturally inclined to think God’s love is earned on merit because that is how trust is earned amongst ourselves. Like David I often find myself asking, “O LORD, what is man that you care for him, the son of man that you think of him? (Psalms 144:3)

It would have to be love. His love for us. Not that we loved him but He loved us and sent his one and only son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. (1 John 4:10)

No-one on this planet chose to be born. We all just found ourselves here bar one exception who was Jesus. He chose to be born. He chose to swap his heavenly throne for the womb of a woman. Jesus, who didn’t need food or water to survive, chose to be utterly vulnerable and dependent on the nutrients supplied to him through a placenta. He didn’t chose Gertrude Children’s hospital  but a manger, accompanied with the smell of hay, animals and animal droppings to usher his entry into the world.

He exited the lofty highs of Heaven and stooped so low to our level as to consign himself to suckling milk from his mother’s bosom as a baby. He chose to grow up in a low class family, shorn of riches or comforts. Jesus left his celestial palace encircled by angels for a life of obscurity as a carpenter in lowly Nazareth.

He left his Heavenly residence for a home-less living on earth. (Matthew 8:20, Luke 9:58)  He didn’t chose the Post Modern world of advanced transport, enhanced healthcare, and pervasive social media. He chose the world of ancient civilization, rudimentary amenities, analogue communication in the form of scrolls and capital punishment by crucifixion.

He lived a life of rejection. By his siblings. (John 7:1-9) By his hometown (Luke 4:14-30). By a large cross section of the Jews and their religious leaders despite bringing miraculous healing, despite providing relief aid  and despite resurrecting some. Despite healing people of incurable diseases, some cared less to thank him. (Luke 17:11-19) Despite driving out demons, some thought it prudent to drive him away from their town. (Mark 5: 1-20)

To cap it all off, He accepted to be betrayed for something a little more than the rwabe I earlier mentioned. He accepted to be falsely charged, tried and condemned to die on a cross despite achieving the unequalled feat of committing no sin. He accepted that an insurrectionist, a murderer and a criminal  called Barabbas would go free and that he, a man of peace, a life-giver, a righteous man never to have sinned, would be condemned to die on the cross.(Luke 23:18)

He accepted to shoulder the responsibility of atoning for the sins of an entire world. He accepted a public flogging for doing nothing wrong.  He accepted the excruciating pain of whips, a thorn of crowns, nails on his wrists and feet to pay the cost of our defilement, to pay the cost of our nakedness and shame, but ultimately to pay the cost of our redemption.

When we wonder where is God when wars, injustice and suffering take place? When we wonder where is God when my mother or closest friend dies? When we wonder where is God when a positive cancer diagnosis comes our way? God showed up years ago, in the flesh, battered, bruised, marred and nailed to a cross with the added indignity of being stripped of his clothes before an audience baying for his blood when in all honesty he shouldn’t have been there. There was God, dying a brutal death, we ought to have died. There he was taking the punishment that was rightly ours. All this because He loved us and wanted to redeem us from our condemnation, our depravity, our dishonour, our fear of evil spirits and reconcile us to himself.

Thereafter, he resurrected, and claimed victory over sin and death. He disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross. (Colossians 2:15)

These riches and victory, he shares with us if we confess that we are hopelessly sinful and incapable of saving ourselves. That we instead, put our faith and trust in him to pardon us for all our sin and save us as a result of his sin-cancelling, death-triumphing, self-sacrifice on the cross. Saving us not just from sin’s dominion over us, but for the rest of our days on earth, saving us from sin’s influence to succumb to temptation and finally saving us from sin’s presence when we die and take our place besides him in heaven.

Easter usually reminds us of this larger than life sacrifice by Jesus that confounds us. It’s difficult to understand God going through all that for our sake. It’s difficult to contemplate a merciful God loving us even when we constantly reject him by following our ways instead of his word. It is difficult to understand God loving us even when we profane his name by our lives of compromise and duplicity. Like Sheng, it doesn’t sink in and may pass you by but when you do understand and accept this message, it gives you the license to live free like nothing else.  To live free of labels, to live free from the chains of past mistakes, to live free from others definition of who you should be. It instead ushers you to a new realm of possibility to a world living as God’s child, deep in his love, deep in a righteousness of faith he imparts, deep in his acceptance, deep in his undeserved favour and deep in his pardon. The only pre-requisite to this is just to believe and accept Jesus. Too surreal, too easy, too simplistic.

It took me years to accept this, it doesn’t have to take you the same. Believe it. Accept it. Live it. Don’t let it pass you by.