Friday, 30th May 2017 is a day I vividly remember. My younger self would exaggerate, “like a cross on the neck of a clergy.” Little did I know there would be an opportunity to take my cross and follow Christ on that eventful day. Opportunists argue that luck is when preparation meets opportunity. On the other hand, Jonathan McReynolds sings I’m not lucky I’m loved! I resonate with the latter because had my salvation been birthed out of luck, God didn’t have it in mind. Moreover, I was not prepared, and many opportunities had passed. It was all by grace through faith.
The day found me fast asleep in my cubicle at Mandela House in the prestigious Lenana School. Being a Form 3 student, the helter-skelter morning routine of the lower classes was way below me. I took a cold shower, quite a radical decision then, and followed my morning routine of dressing, breakfast, and morning devotion, and in no time, I was seated in class for preps. Being a Friday, the preps were followed by a parade, where the school chaplain, Rev. Edward Etale, reminded all and sundry of the weekend challenge that was to commence in the evening. A play, “Heaven’s Gate, Hell’s Flames” was the curtain raiser for the weekend-long spiritual re-alignment.
Speaking of being born again… let’s first talk about being born. I was born more than two decades ago to Christian parents. Exploits of boldness marked my childhood in presenting memory verses to the church as a Sunday School boy, singing and acting. From what the millennials tell me, I would speak so loudly that my name was forever etched in their minds. All I did was to be obedient to what my parents said, it was either their way or the highway.
My locality, then, was quite a remote location. Tarmac was yet to reach our small town from Mombasa Road, 100kms away. I come from a border town, Kajiado South, and the only tarmac came from Tanzania, hence a place we used to call, “Mwisho wa Lami”. My childhood was marked with adventure. From hunting in bushes and thickets to eating wild fruits in the Mt. Kilimanjaro Forest, playing hide and seek with forest wardens, and playing football all day. I had so many friends, friends with whom we did life together. Friends who’d even come home to help me with chores to get me out of home as I was a star footballer, a goalkeeper. Yes, I might be short, but not of strategy or words.
My spiritual life was in the bushes, just as I was. All I did was show up, steal the show, and make a name for myself. I was building a tower of Babel. I hadn’t known Jesus as Lord. I was trying to fake it till I made it. Interestingly, I was referred to as a pastor, for the shows I put up were in the pulpit. In a way, this shielded me from drugs and immorality. Moreover, I was gifted academically, I became the example parents used to advise their sons and daughters – yes, daughters. A certain lady once told me how her mum never ceased mentioning my name. The rubber met the road when I was admitted to Lenana School.
It was my third time coming to Nairobi. Church trips during my primary school days introduced me to cities like Mombasa and Nairobi. But this was not a one-week trip, it was a four-year stay. My first exam in high school introduced me to multiple-digit positions. Before coming to high school, I was mostly in position one, I rarely came second or third. With just the first exam in high school, I attained these positions at once. I remember my friends asking me what position I was and I’d respond, “I was position one, two, three”. My glory days were over and I had lost relevance. I couldn’t put up a show because I had nothing to show off. It wasn’t my turf, it was tough. It was during this period that God began working on me. The tower of Babel had stalled and had become an abandoned project.
An expositor, Yaw Perbi, once said, “God can use a crooked stick to draw a straight line, then discard it”. I didn’t want to be a crooked stick. Losing relevance made me feel like salt that had been discarded and trampled under people’s feet or a lamp under a bushel. Pardon me, I wasn’t even salt yet, neither was I a lamp; that is what I needed to be.
Fast-forward to the evening of 30th May 2017. I was seated in the middle of the school hall and the play began. Scenes from the movie “Left Behind” were shown on the screens and the play was set either in heaven or hell as a final destination for those who chose either side in their lifetimes. I was first scared, convinced, and finally convicted to give my life to Christ. When the altar call was made, I knew this was the day the Lord had made. I clearly remember Robert Mbugua, an alumnus then, who led hundreds of us in the salvation prayer.
Giving my life to Jesus is the best decision I have ever made. My life took a big turn for the better and, as Sifa Voices would sing, “I’ve tasted of the Lord, and I know that Jesus you are good.” Jesus became to me the Wonderful Counsellor, who gave me wise counsel and clarity; the Mighty God, whose strength was perfect in my weakness; the Eternal Father, who gave me consistency; and the Prince of Peace, who granted me peace that surpasses all understanding. Jesus illuminated my life and conquered the darkness within me.
From that day onwards, my life transformed, but not in a heartbeat. It was a process. Exodus 23:29 reminds me of God telling the Israelites, through Moses, that He will not drive the Canaanites out before them in one year, lest the land became desolate and wild beasts multiply against them. In Judges 3: 1-4, it is written that God left these nations (Philistines, Canaanites, Hivites, etc.) behind to not only test the Israelites to see whether they would obey His commands but also teach welfare to their descendants. This has characterized my salvation journey so far, where the genuineness of my faith has been tested by fire, as the testing of faith produces endurance.
My last year of high school is one for the books. Ada would sing, “I have come with stories to tell, I have come with testimonies.” I dare say this was one of my best songs then. Inasmuch as God chastised me as His child, He never ceased to do great things. My academics soared, my ministry in singing, then, grew exponentially. My relevance was not a product of my exploits, rather it was a manifestation of His glory.
Now in my sixth year of study pursuing Architecture, I can’t help but thank God for loving me. I remember applying for the course by faith… “Has He ever promised and failed to fulfill?” Certainly not! The seven years haven’t been a bed of roses, but His grace, which trains us to lead upright and godly lives, has been abundant. My biggest prayer to God is for sufficient grace to be a good steward of what He has entrusted to me, be it friendships, career, family, etc. Truly, as prophet Samuel would name the stone of help ‘Ebenezer’ and say in 1 Samuel 7:12, “Thus far the LORD has helped us”; indeed, He has been my stone of help.
ArchSam©