At the journey’s beginning, my mum prayed to God to guide us throughout the trip. One hour into the road, my mother said that she felt disturbed in her spirit. She started calling her then prayer partner and also told me to pray. I was young, so I just closed my eyes and pretended I was praying. Deep down, however, I was ashamed to pray as “it did not look cool.” My mom was praying louder and louder, and we were getting funny looks from other passengers. I remember muttering a prayer under my breath as I feared adversity.
Just before I could say Amen, the vehicle turned and ran into some turbulence. Ahead was an artificial roadblock manned by a group of young men with bloodstained Vests. A plethora of activities surrounding the round. All I could see was a line of vehicles. Along the road were endless headless bodies with freshly cut heads, with one still blinking. The protocol to be observed was that everyone should walk out with their National IDs in their mouth to identify their tribe. If you belonged to the other tribe or failed to answer a question in the test language, a quick end to you was guaranteed. It dawned on me that I would have been a guillotine-esque victim of the Post-Election Violence.
The panic was evident in the vehicle, with people crying, others begging God, and others turning against each other. But one thing that remained constant was my mother, very silent but still fervently praying. She told me to keep saying,” I will not die but live to testify of the good deeds of the Lord in the Land of the Living.” It was our turn to face Hades, and the driver told the young goon in their own tongue,” We are all okay here; there is no need for them to get off.” And just like that, we were allowed to pass, and everyone in the matatu cried in prayer. How?? How is the question a non-believer would ask? But to me, that is the day I saw the hand of God.
Parting Shot
Countless lessons can be learned by a Christian from the above story. These include the pivotal role of faith, the power of prayer, the reality that God is alive, present, and very powerful, the importance of being alert in the spirit, and the importance of being calm in the storm. Personally, it was the day I decided to give my life to Christ. Even though I did not officially do it that day, I would say that the exact moment I had the conversation with myself about the same. It was also the day I asked my mother who this God is and how He truly is. According to Psalms 118:17, I took a personal standpoint to testify the good deeds of the Lord in the Land of the Living. In as much as it is a verse, I will keep telling this story as I did not truly die since God was my saving hand. The verse stopped becoming a recital but a promise and held deep meaning in my life.
I also made my own Psalm 🙂🙂
Glory to the Most High,
Glory to our Lord, Adonai,
For He sees me where I-,
In this hopeless world lie,
When I am in despair,
Or when the scales are not fair
Or when enemies dare,
To touch a strand of my hair
In Him, I put all my trust,
For I know that even when I see dust,
Or by man aside, I am cast,
He will come through for me at last.