When Saying Goodbye Becomes A Privilege

Exactly two weeks ago today, I was with a man who had just lost his father. He narrated to me how his dad died. I'll never forget his opening words. "Last night, my father died peacefully in my arms." I could see and feel the closure he had in getting to share in his father's final moments on earth. "What a privilege!" I thought to myself.

How many people get to say goodbye to their loved ones right before they pass on? A huge part of the pain that the bereaved contend with is simply that they didn't get to say goodbye. Many think back to the very last time they got to speak with or spend time with the deceased. It is even less bearable when that last time spent together or that last conversation was wasted on hurtful words and anger.

I remembered also an episode of a very popular comedy that I watched about five close friends. One lost his dad and that particular episode was all about their time together at the funeral being there for their best friend. As they all got together, the one who'd lost his father began to think back on what his father's last words were to him since he wasn't with him at his death. He made a big deal out of needing those last words from his father to be meaningful. Fortunately, he found a pending voice message on his phone left by his father not long before he died telling him how much he loved him and was proud of him. He broke down and wept at the closure that gave him. The episode ended with each of the other four friends calling home to speak to their own parents to tell them how much they loved them and committing themselves to always end conversations with loved ones by assuring them of their love and care for them just in case that conversation ended up being their last.

For those of you who have gotten to say goodbye to that special someone you lost, take comfort in the opportunity God gave you to do so. It is a rarity! And since there's nothing we can do about our loved ones who have already gone without a proper goodbye and since we are not likely to have the privilege of saying goodbye to those who remain, we must not take life for granted but love our closest friends and family in such a way that when they die, even though we may not be there to assure them of our love for them, they will already know, even as they breath their last, that we truly did love them.

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Directorial Debut!

My brother has a passion and talent for performing as an actor. He's been writing scripts for quite a while. One of them, a stage play, was realized last year entitled "No Greater Love". It was superb. He got behind the camera for another script he wrote, a short film this time around and the following is the result. It's brilliant especially if you consider that it's his first, enjoy!

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Fathers And Sons

To my father, who has shown me that a real man is a man after God's own heart.

When a boy is making the transition from boyhood to manhood, there is no book he can pick up, or magazine he can read, or website he can surf to find out all the intricate details of who a man really is. There is no universal, detailed description of what it means to be a man. How must a man look? How must he carry himself? How must he relate to those above or below him? How must he treat women? How is a boy, making that transition to manhood, to decide what route he will take on all these things?

A boy who is making this inevitable transition is almost like a person making his way through a maze. He has no map and could take several routes to his destination. Which route will he take? What techniques and methods will he use to navigate his way so he makes it to the end intact? It would be so much easier to have footsteps in front of him that he could simply follow. Likewise, the boy does not have a detailed description of what he has to become. It's the little things that matter like how a man must talk, should he be loud or should he be quiet? Should he joke or should he be serious? What about the way a man must walk? Must a man bounce as he takes his strides? Must he walk briskly or take his time? It goes on and on, how should keep his hair or his beard? How should he sit? How should he relate to women? And so on and so forth.

Because of all these variables, a father plays a pivotal role and very rarely are fathers conscious of this. If you take a moment to observe most sons who have had a father figure growing up you will soon see how much the son copies his father.

The son does not do this consciously. He doesn't say "Ok, how must I walk? Let me see how dad walks." No, he simply imitates what he sees and before long it becomes who he is.

I have two friends who shave their heads completely. I've often wondered why they should choose such a weird hair style at such a young age and then I noticed that their fathers both keep their hair that way. There's a young man I know who has a priceless smile but always wears a grave face. Again I wondered why, then I discovered his Dad smiles very rarely. There's another friend of mine who speaks exactly the way his father speaks, two in fact. There is a man at church who never makes a '4' or with his legs (crosses his legs) when he is sits. I have never seen his son make a '4' either. There's a man who is simply a clown, you guessed right, his son is always clowning around. There's another boy also who speaks very shyly, his father speaks exactly the same way. I could go on and on.

Already, genetically, sons will have mannerisms and habits similar to their fathers but they become even more like their fathers because when they are growing up the definition of a man they have is the one of the man of the home, and consequently, many of those small details I mentioned are simply adopted from their fathers. This all happens with both father and son virtually unaware.

That is why fathers are important to their sons. You are your son's definition of a man. Two of my friends complain incessantly about their fathers and I often wonder why they have taken so much of the way they look and carry themselves from their fathers if they aren't so fond of them. It is something they really can't help. And that is why many young men who grow up without fathers end up being criminals. Being at an impressionable age, they look to the 'stars' in society and in the media and take their cue from them much to their own peril.

Fathers, believe it or not your son is watching. He sees how you sit, walk, talk, shave, drive, etc, and that is his view of what being a real man is. He sees how you treat your wife and your domestic workers. You are what he will become. Your son will rise or fall because of what you have portrayed manhood to be.

I'm thankful for my father in whom I have seen that a real man must prioritize; God first, himself last and others in between and that the more you submit yourself to God, the bigger the man you are. Thanks Dad!

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Zambian Culture: The Visitor

I think Zambian culture is pretty interesting. People do not marvel at something they see everyday, but my own culture leaves me wowed sometimes. Granted I have not been brought up in a very traditional set up and perhaps that's why I notice these things and are left mesmerized. But there are certain things I have certainly observed. Take for instance the place of a visitor in Zambian culture.


The Visited

Receiving visitors is a special thing. It is part of our culture to make someone feel welcome. In Zambian culture when a visitor comes to your home, life comes to a halt. It doesn't matter if you have an exam tomorrow that you are not ready for or work for which you are rushing, the visitor immediately becomes priority number one. The visitor must be welcomed into the house and offered a sit at the very least. If the visitor comes close to meal time, he/she is immediately catered for. The visitor must be entertained. If the home owner is away, the children know that theirs is the responsibility to entertain the visitor until the owner gets home. The visitor cannot be left with a television or radio to keep them occupied. If the visitor is ignored the parents are tagged as people who have not brought up their children well and even the children are tagged as rude and even disrespectful.

If the television was on, it is usually muted or turned off to give the visitor full and undivided attention. Also it is rude to ask the visitor what has brought them to your home. Anything which even hints at looking forward to the visitors departure is left out of either conversation or behaviour. Smiles are maintained and interest levels are kept high in the visitor. It is up to the visitor to divulge his reasons for being there.

The visitor is usually served with a drink at least and usually something to eat. Again if a visitor is not served with anything to eat, it reflects badly upon the family. That's where there is an anomaly in Zambian culture. Very rarely will Zambian's share money, but they will certainly share food! If the visitor comes from out of town, they needn't even warn their hosts-to-be of their arrival, they can simply come in, and preparations will be made for them to have a room and a bed. Limited space will mean the eviction of children from a room to the sitting room to leave the room for the visitor(s).

Many families will school their children in what to do when visitors come. Their reputation as a family often hinges on the report that visitors send to others when the leave the home they visitor.


The Visitor


Because of this high value that is placed on the visitor, many have abused our lovely culture. There are some who devise brilliant schemes to take advantage of the place of a visitor in our culture. Some, especially bachelors living on their own and also lazy relatives, will target certain homes and happen to visit those homes at meal times. If they use tact and plan well, they can literally have three meals a day for an entire week being sure to make the visits as apparently abrupt, infrequent and random as possible.

Other relatives will visit with a bag of clothing and spend some weeks staying at a home. They will survive that long because to make a visitor feel that you do not want them is the biggest blunder you can make as you would be disrespecting him/her and be damaging your own reputation. Thus the family can only wonder how long this relative or friend will be around. If the visitor is smart, they will absorb as much hospitality as they can and move on to their next victims in good time before being seen as a burden or inconvenience. This is true especially of older relatives, Uncles, Aunties and Grandparents who have the added advantage of not only being visitors but also being older in age and the value of the visitor in our culture is already high, add to that the value of being older in age and you have someone who cannot be touched!

The visitor however is also in danger of picking up a bad reputation. If the visitor is discovered to be one who employs the schemes described above to take advantage of his/her high value, if word does it's rounds, the visitor will soon discover that they are being avoided and it also becomes easier for the visited to send them off because if the the visitor attempts to share that they were treated very poorly, obviously, it will not carry any weight.

Thankfully, the are those who bring honour to the place of the visitor by being a joy to host by the visitors. Many times, regret is admitted by the family to see them leave and at their departure, an invitation is immediately extended that the visitor return soon. May we all be that kind of visitor!

Finally, the high value of the visitor in Zambian culture has made the sharing of the gospel a very easy task. If you go to a home as a complete stranger you will almost in all cases be given time. Many will let you into their homes and some would even serve refreshments. Thank God for the high value placed on the visitor in our culture!

"Visitor always brings joy to a family, either by their coming or their going."

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Post Funeral Thoughts

Today I attended a funeral. A few things struck me.

First of all, I expected very few people to attend the service. On the contrary, the church car park was quite full; two big buses were in use for transporting people and there were many cars. The church itself was well filled. The reason I expected very few people is because very few people were there for the person who died during his illness. It was a hustle getting people to be by the ailing man's side so as to relieve his wife a while. However to my surprise, there were lots of people.

There were lots of people crying too. I prefer to stand directly outside the exit to watch people stream out from the church after the funeral service. The reality that someone has died really sinks for me as I see people walk out passed the casket consumed with grief even more than seeing the corpse in the casket. So many people were visibly grieved and yet so few showed up when the deceased needed them the most. If you ask any of those people who were walking out, “I can see from your grief, that you really cared for the deceased, didn’t you?” The answer would likely be a yes, and they probably would be telling the truth. The inevitable follow up question would then be, “But why weren’t you there?”

I was further struck by two individuals in the service, the one who lead the proceedings, who happened to be the deceased’s cell group leader and the man who shared from the word. Both of them testified to the exemplary commitment of the deceased to the church and to God. They both made it pretty clear that the deceased was a Christian.

What puzzled me was that I had spent some hours with the deceased about a week before his demise. We spoke at length, exchanging questions. One of the questions I asked him was whether, if he died, he would go to heaven. He replied with a definite ‘no’. “I have sinned too much,” he said. I resolved to tell both the cell group leader and preacher man about it after the service.

After the service, I noticed that both of them were riding in the same car which meant I’d be able to kill two birds with one stone. I went up to them and told them, that the deceased told me that he didn’t think he would go to heaven because of how he had led his life. No accusations, no question, just a statement. Both of them were surprised of course. I went on to asked whether any of them had talked with the deceased concerning his salvation in that last week of his life.

The preacher was the first to respond. I was disappointed. He told me, visibly in defense mode, that the deceased was not in a right frame of mind and that was why he said what he said. He further went on to say that before his illness or before it had advanced, the deceased said he was a Christian and that was what they held on to.

In that moment I wanted to tell the preacher that I had spent hours having intelligible conversation with the man who he thought to be beside himself mentally. I wanted to tell him that the deceased was able to remember me along with my entire family as well as what many of them were doing in life. I wanted to tell him that the deceased on that day, a week before his passing, was lots of things but ‘mentally ill’ was not one of them. But I did not.

The cell group leader, however, replied with a question. He asked me where I was from and who I was to the deceased. I replied and he went on to ask whether, I, having heard the deceased say that he did not think he was going to heaven, proceeded to share the way of salvation with him. For me that was refreshing. He did not jump to defend himself but showed immediate concern for the eternal welfare of the deceased.

The message I was trying to communicate to these men was that assumptions concerning a person, let alone dying person's eternal welfare, must be avoided. If someone claims to be a Christian we should be glad. However, we should also realize that Christianity is a matter of eternal life and eternal death. The question that must soon follow in both our hearts and out loud to that individual must be, “Is it genuine?” Some may say that would be rude or perhaps too forward. Maybe too pessimistic. Well, if the person realizes that they were deceived and weren't really Christian, they'll be eternally grateful for your pessimism because an encounter with an optimist may have resulted in eternal damnation for them. Better to error on the side of caution.

The bible is clear in Matthew just how many people will arrive on the Day of Judgment falsely convinced of their salvation-- many. The possibility that the person who claims to be saved is in fact not, is therefore very high. If you care at all for that person, your next task would be to ensure that the person claiming to be saved actually is. Tapping them on the back and moving on does not demonstrate care. It is dangerous. Something that I hope the men I talked to today realized.

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Reality of Loss

Weddings and funerals have atleast one thing in common. Especially in the African context. Both have a lot of people. The bride and groom are surrounded by a large number of friends, family and acquaintances all celebrating with them. And yet in the hours that will ensue, they will be alone. The impact of this sudden change from being with so many people and then suddenly being alone, is something that is not felt and infact is actually 'oddly' desired. This makes sense, after all the couple can't wait to finally be alone for the first time ever, as husband and wife.

This, almost identical, impact is not cushioned when it comes to a funeral, however. The bereaved family during the days that lead up to the burial, is surrounded by so many people who lovingly mourn with and care for them. They do not have to worry about the cooking or cleaning. The burden of organizing for the whole solemn event is borne by so many that it is not felt so much by the grieving family. Hugs and tears surround those closest to the deceased and their pain subsides somewhat. A day or two after the burial however, everyone leaves. The bereaved must now face the reality of loss alone. After having more comforters than they could ever need, the bereaved family/individual is left with no one. The burial is done. Everyone leaves and moves on with their lives. Apart from the occasional call here and visit there, the overwhelming support experienced before is no longer there. It is then that the depression sets in and the reality of loss is really felt.

I could see this in the faces of my cousins who lost their mother, my aunt. Having gotten some days off work, I returned the day after the burial. When I got home from work, the once crowded and busy house was now empty and quiet. All the furniture was back in its place. The fires had been put out and the tents brought down. I went to the room at the end of the corridor and found my three cousins together. I had not seen them together like that since they all got home. I could tell, they were sad. And it made perfect sense. The arms that had carried them the past few days, had now gone. It was time to face this sad reality on their own. Fortunately for them, and I hope they realise this -at the very least, they had and still have each other.

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Thoughts On Homeschooling

For the first time in a long time if ever, I put 'pen to paper' and struggle to begin this particular article. I struggle with whether to write a neutral article, one which is neither here no there (that kind which leaves a reader feeling like he/she has basically wasted their time, people want to hear which side you're on and why). I struggle with whether to pick a side and support it when I am most likely not informed enough to make an objective, comprehensive and sensible argument.

Usually, with not much forethought, I just sit down and type away 'free verse'. It seems the whole issue of homeschooling is a a big deal in the Western church. The whole controversy, I'm not quite sure if I can call it that, is one that the Eastern body of Christ has been... spared?

First time I heard of homeschooling, my response was, "cool". Now my response is really, "wow, what a hot topic." I am really intrigued by it and amazed to some extent by the debate.

This is probably because homeschooling and the controversy surrounding it is a luxury we don't have in Africa. I call it a luxury because I'd rather be wrestle with homeschooling than with hunger, unemployment, sickness, lack of education, inadequate health care, abject poverty, AIDS etc. Over here, we are too busy fighting for our lives to begin talking about homeschooling.

I suppose the whole issue of homeschooling has arisen, in the West, due to: need. The moral fibre of western society has been gnawed at for so long and to alarming proportions that one can understand why homeschooling was conceptualized.

Well, I will do the safest thing here and rather than pick a side (and perhaps lose the few readers I am already battling to keep), perhaps mention a couple of thoughts on the whole issue. Although I might give myself away...

1) It is unfortunate that homeschooling must even arise. It is a sad development that a society's morals can decay to such an extent that men and women become so afraid for their children, that they have to pull them out as it were. It is unfortunate and yet expected. We can expect no better from this world. In fact, we would be in order to expect worse. This is because of sin. The heart of man is deceitful and desperately wicked. The question is what is the Christian's response to a rotting culture and society? Perhaps a study to answer that question would unveil principles that can help determine whether homeschooling is the way to go or not.

2) It would be sin to make homeschooling the main thing. The gospel is the main thing. Jesus Christ is the main thing. As important as the whole issue of homeschooling is, it must not become an idol. As important as it is that families process and pray and seek the Lord's will over how to educate their children, if we find ourselves peddling anything that is a part over the whole, we sin. No theme must be most sang, most discussed and most cherished than the gospel. It is in the gospel that we must invest our resources (time, energy, etc). And that is a trap that Western brothers and sisters must be aware off. I don't think brothers and sisters should part company and fail to dwell in harmony because they cannot agree on the issue of homeschooling. I don't think God would buy it.

3) Homeschooling and the controversy surrounding it, has not taken God by surprise. In his infinite wisdom, he ordained that the issue arise. I wonder why. Could it be to test/sanctify the Western church? To see whether, even in such 'hot topics', the church does not get carried away with debate and controversy but perhaps agree to disagree and move on? It's so easy to get caught up and forget what is important, the gospel and mutual edification, fellowship and the means of grace, salvation and sanctification. For me, a development of factions among believers wrestling with this hot topic would be to fail the test.

4) One other issue about picking a side, is that, unfortunately, there is no neutral ground. I suppose that it's one of those issues where you are either here or there, or would a Christian school be neutral ground? I don't know... But in the process of choosing whether to home school a child or not, I think it would be prudent to work backwards. To study principles in the bible pertaining to the issue and build on those principles until finally a final decision is arrived at but based on a foundation of biblical principles. Is there an article or book that does that, where there is a neutrality about the flow of thought through biblical principles? Almost all that I've read seems to have a 'made up mind'. I think it is important to work like that over any issue and thus the need to be well grounded in the word. This process must be done prayerfully (with earnest and continuous prayer).

Well there you have it, a few thoughts from someone looking from the outside in on the whole issue of homeschooling.

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Weddings -Golden Opportunities

What golden opportunities indeed! No other gathering apart from family-get-togethers and funerals, bring family together, especially in our culture. The thing about weddings, that makes them more golden than funerals or get-togethers, perhaps even combined, is that all of your family in attendance are at your disposal. You reserve the right to conduct your wedding however you wish and your family will attend because they care about you.

But do we really realize this?

A couple of months ago, a friend asked me to watch a small clip. It was entitled, "letter from hell". It seems it is/was quite popular. It's about two young men who were close friends, one a Christian, the other not. For some reason the one never shared his faith with the other. The young man who wasn't a Christian died and went to hell. The clip has the young man in hell narrating a letter he had written to his Christian friend who was still on earth.

First he describes the place, then he describes the people he's with. He also describes the pain and the evil spirits there. As the narration progresses its intensity builds gradually, the young man gets more and more emotional after having started out rather collected. And then he finally breaks out as though he had been holding himself back. He asks his Christian friend in a frenzied voice, "Why? Why didn't you warn me? My best guess is that you were not aware of such a place. Who would know of such a place and not warn those he felt were heading there?"

I know of several people who I have not warned about the wrath to come, people who I was not forthright with, people who I will probably never see again, who, as of the last time we were together, were headed down a highway to eternal damnation. This causes me to want to be diligent in sharing the gospel with whoever I rub shoulders. But ofcourse, 'wanting' doesn't avail much. It is not enough to 'want'.

Probably the group we are most guilty of ignoring is our own family. How many of our family have heard the gospel? What percentage of our family have we tried to share the gospel with?

And that is what make weddings golden opportunities. Opportunities that must be capitalized on, first, indirectly but also directly. Indirectly in the way that we carry out our weddings.

Theres been alot of debate about weddings at my church, is this right and is that wrong, etc. Many things are not easy to just put in a box but Paul handles this in that timeless quotation, "Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial." There are alot of things that are permissible at weddings, but the question shouldn't be, would it be alright to do this but rather, would this be beneficial.

Would this thing or that thing send a Christian message to my family, friends and acquaintances that will attend my wedding? Will they walk away struck by how different my wedding was? Or will they see the very things that they see in the majority of weddings around? The wedding is such a great opportunity! An opportunity to send a message saying, "I am different, I seek to glorify God even if it means forfeiting things I really wanted and it is not I but Christ that liveth in me!" Oh for weddings that minister to the wretched hearts of those who attend, especially our families merely by the elements they contain (or do not contain!), weddings that send them away wondering, what they lack that you have!

The second way, we must capitalize on weddings is directly. How can you have such a large gathering of family, friends and even associates/acquaintances and not have the gospel message preached?! What an opportunity! Many of those in attendance, you will never get to invite to a church where the truth is preached, how can you pass on an opportunity to bring the church service to them! When I mentioned this to my mother, she immediately mentioned that in her day, gospel messages were common features at weddings. Christians getting married would indeed organize a preacher to give an evangelistic message at their reception.

Maybe I'm just a young man speaking from without. Maybe in the midst of all the excitement or hustle and bustle of wedding preparations I will forget to or even reject the idea of having the gospel preached at my own wedding. Maybe I just don't understand the ins and outs of weddings. Maybe I'm being too idealistic or hyper spiritual. But then again, maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm onto something. Maybe the greatest love you can show your family is to warn them of the wrath of God that awaits them and the love of God that draws them. What more convenient way is there, than at your wedding?

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Criticizing The Cook

I remember when I was a child (some would argue that I still am), and was at the dinning table for a meal with my family. We prayed together and dug in. My foster sister had prepared the meal as usual. This time, something wasn't quite right. It was a long time ago and I don't recall what was wrong with it or what I said out loudly to let everyone know my grievances. What followed has remained with me to date. I got the worst scolding ever. I was rebuked so badly that I thought I had committed one of the top 5 sins known to man. Never again did I ever criticize someones cooking, at least not out loud! Even now, doing so is just not an option.

After I was rebuked by my parents (I think it was my mother), I never thought about it again really. I just knew never to do it again. The next time I thought about it was when I was in South Africa. I was staying with my Uncle and his family over there for a while. When I went to be with them, I remember sitting at the table that first evening and exhaling a sigh of relief and accomplishment having succeeded in leaving "Nshima land". I thought I'd never eat Nshima again for as long as I'd be there. My eyes almost fell out of their sockets when the dish lids were removed and there stood in front of me, a pile of Nshima. And I was even more disappointed to find that they ate it more than we did back home. Anyway, I remember one evening settling down to eat with fellow dependants when during the meal, the oldest criticized the cooking of one of the young ladies who had prepared the meal. I braced myself expecting to see some object flying towards the face of the critic or someone rebuke him for doing what he did, but nothing happened!

That happened many times after that and each time I looked at the face of the criticized cook, I realised why I got in trouble for doing so even as a child. Here is someone who is not getting paid to put in all those half hours and all that effort, and perhaps cooks for the family several evenings a week as weeks turn to months and months to years. Surely that person must be praised and thanked and not criticized. Even if their cooking is a four on a scale of one to ten, they should be honoured just for doing it. Probably the only person who is at liberty to criticize would be the fellow or co-cook. And so that experience in SA reinforced what I had learnt at home, "never criticize the cook".

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Heart Changer

Opportunities to preach the gospel, I've always felt, should be taken very seriously especially by those called to preach. It's a shame, when after the preaching of God's word, you decide to speak to someone, after, perhaps a church service or evangelistic meeting, and upon asking them how they got saved (since 9/10 Zambians respond in the affirmative when asked whether they are saved), they respond, "Oh, well, I was born a Christian." or maybe "I go to church and do lots of other good things." Upon hearing such a response, I quickly look for the person responsible for such a response, because someone obviously didn't do what they ought to have done. Either the preacher was unclear or lacking in the content of his message or perhaps the particular individual slept through the whole sermon!

I have always felt that preachers should be very clear when preaching the gospel. I have never appreciated evangelistic sermons that are comprised of bombastic words and theological terminologies that unchurched individuals would struggle to grasp. I mean if the majority of your audience is unconverted why use words they probably won't understand? I thought the whole point was to get the gospel message across!

The first/next time I/I'll ever preach, my introduction will be something like this:

"I'd hate for anyone in this auditorium to leave assuming certain things, especially since it's me preaching, and so just to make sure, I'll just make a few clarifications from onset. First off, going to church cannot save you, just like going to the garage doesn't make you a car neither does going to the Bata make you a shoe. Secondly, doing good things cannot save you because the bible says in Isaiah that our good works are like filthy rags before God. Believing in God's existence, lastly, doesn't make you a Christian because the demons believe it much steadfastly than you ever
will!"

This compulsion to always make the gospel plain has landed me in utter frustration. I always thought that if the gospel was preached such that a listener understood it explicitly and the right "atmosphere", one quiet and perhaps one with the hymn "Just As I Am" playing softly in the background, allowing the person to ponder the words of the preacher, then that person was going to get saved. I mean why not?! The sinner has understood the gospel and has had time to think it through-time to reason, how could that individual make it out of that place unrepentant?!

Ofcourse, I was sadly mistaken and terribly disappointed.

Not long ago, I commenced visiting a nearby college, LBTC, where my buddies and I would share the gospel for an hour, 3 times a week. I usually did the sharing myself. I made sure I wrestled with the person's sense of reason, showing them, through questions, that they did not, infact, know the way of salvation and I'd wait until that beautiful question was asked,"How, then, does one become a Christian?" I'd shoot my buddy colleague a quick smile communicating, non-verbally, the words, "We've got him/em' now!", and begin sharing the word ever so passionately. We were good. We had it all figured out. We were going to get the whole college saved before they'd ever have known what hit them. We forgot one thing though, one crucial thing:

It's God who changes the hearts of men.

You could create the most quiet atmosphere and even add a melancholic tune in the background after sharing the most passionate gospel message, with the clarity of the Lord Jesus Christ himself but if God is not pleased to send his Holy Spirit to convict that soul, that poor soul will not get saved!

That is why I always say to my friends that the man of God must spend more time praying than he does preaching because he, the preacher, only does less than 25% of the work, and that might be giving him too much credit! God does the most part. A preacher cannot always get his stuff right. He may be lacking in clarity, passion, depth or even general gifting but if God chooses to use him, his "below par performance" could save a hundred. Perhaps just one statement he utters could be the line God uses to bring home his own. And yet the most gifted man can preach the most powerful sermon in all senses, whereby, as my buddy says, "You feel like you could get saved again.", and yet not a single soul gets saved. Why? Because it is God who changes hearts.

It all really comes down to the one who God chooses to use, we should all pray that God is pleased to use us.

Now to the reason why I began writing this. There are people who seem like they'll never change. We all know them. The irresponsible relative (friend, colleague, father*, mother, brother, sister, cousin, uncle, aunt or gran) who is a constant burden and refuses to amend his/her ways. Always promising to change but nothing ever matures. The perpetual drunk we see all the time in the neighbourhood, reeling and cursing. Those mad men and women we see in the streets who have been passed as having suffered permanent brain damage. Those members of our communities born Muslims or Jehovah's witnesses or Atheists etc, who adamantly refuse to even hear the gospel. Those workmates or schoolmates who have no interest in the things of God.

These people make me thank God that he does the 75%+ of the work in as far as preaching the gospel is concerned. Because if it was left to us, how could we reach the above mentioned, many of whom hear the gospel but refuse to listen to it? How would we reach those who don't even want to hear the word "Christian"? Thank God that he's the heart changer. Thank God that there is still hope for those who we can't seem to even reach because with him nothing is impossible. Our role in the matter is to be played on our knees-praying that God would be pleased to change their hearts and saved them just like he saved us for Jesus sake, Amen!

*This article is dedicated to my sister Mwila, "Mwils, we're praying for the heart changer to change his heart!"

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Reforms

I once took pride in something I am now ashamed of.





I have mentioned before that I don't enjoy meeting strangers. I detest making the acquaintance of individuals I've never known especially when the meeting is face to face. In essence, I am anti-social and like to keep a group of close friends with whom I exclusively interact. I dread the idea of any imposter in "my inner circle" although, each addition has ended up being very welcome. Not long ago, I accepted this terrible trait as a part of me. I told myself that I was merely a typical introvert. It's not good to be too friendly, but the opposite extreme is just as bad. I've always told myself that,"...that's just the way I am by nature...anti-social."





I've heard that a thousand times from Christians who decide to settle for what they think,"Is the way they are." Why are you so talkative? "That's just the way I am" many would respond. Why are you rude? "That's just the way I am." Why don't you interact more? "That's just the way I am." Why are you so untidy? "That's just the way I am."





The Apostle Paul said something relevant, for those who are "just the way the are", in his letter to the Romans. He admonished them not to be confirmed to this world but to be transformed by the renewing of the mind, i.e, through scripture. In other words, granted, you have certain things in your character that, while they may not necessarily be good traits, are what make you-you. Well, the Apostle Paul, anticipating the fact that many of us will come with weaknesses and flaws that seem to be so much a part of us, reminds us that becoming a Christian is simply the beginning of a long journey of reformation. It is an amendment of attitudes, values, character and world view. An amendment of the how we do things and even why we would do them in the first place. That's what, in fact, for those of you who are, being a Reformed Baptist is all about, its about reforming...everything.





Well, I didn't realise that in a bid to shut strangers out of my life, I had began shutting out those who I loved most. One evening, my Dad paid my brother and I a visit in our room and sorta addressed us at our points of need.





I have faith that even though I am a mess now, I will one day be a spiritual man in pursuit of the very heart of God. If I end up being anything close to that dream, my parents will predominantly be responsible for it. I thank God for them. My Dad had notice this, rather selfish trend whereby I paid very little interest to my family, especially siblings and cousins.





I've heard the term "generational curse" alot since I started listening to Dr. Voddie Baucham and I always wondered whether there was any such curse in our family. As my Dad brought to my attention this selfish trend I was developing and proved that it is typical of over 95% of the males in our extended family, I couldn't help but think that the generational curse had been brought to light. Basically, of all the men in our extended family, under 5% have interest in their extended family. Only 5% take time to visit the rest of the extended family regularly and keep in touch with their cousins and sisters, wish them happy birthday and acquaint themselves with their brother's, sister's and cousin's children. While I know almost all my Aunties, I know very few of my Uncles. They just never made efforts to come and visit me, their nephew. Dad gave example after example, even of a relative who relocated to South Africa and not even his mother knows where he is. "The males of our family have been a let down", Dad said. "As for me, it was grace which saved me."





I am the first Grandchild of my late Grandfather on my Dad's side. I am therefore the oldest among all my first cousins on my Grandad's side. Dad reminded me of my responsibility. How that being the oldest I should have noted all my cousins birthdays so that I could atleast drop them a note on their special days. I should also take time to be with them when I can and find out how they are doing and whats happening in their lives. Even my own siblings.





I have a tendency to put friends before family but that is incorrect. Rushing off to link up with friends on a chat site before catching up with my brothers and sisters is wrong.





It will take a deliberate effort on my part to take time to interact and keep intouch but if I don't care for my family, who on earth will I care for? Dad said that I wouldn't suddenly have interest in my sibling's or cousin's kids when I'm 40 years old, he told me that it's got to start now. And through this care, I will hopefully communicate the love for my saviour to my family by loving and caring for them.





If you have been as selfish as I, join me as I strive, by God's grace, to reform.

Don't be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what is the good, well-pleasing, and perfect will of God. ~Romans 12:2

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Outside Looking In

This is the first of a series of "posts" which I have been planning to write for quite a while.



Most of what I write here is "brewed". In other words, the posts you see here are a result of probably weeks of brewing in my heart and this is one I have been brewing for quite a while. I have a lot of ideas of stuff to write. The thing that holds me back is both time and mood. If I am upset over anything, I just can't write. Anyway, I have been brewing a series of posts which I can generally entitle, "Things I learnt in the two years I spent away from home". This is the first of the series:

I spent the last two years in South Africa where I lived with my Uncle and his family. They were very welcoming to me. They embraced me as family! I hate being away from home. I hate being in unfamiliar territory with people I don't know and so, adjusting to my new surrounding was exciting at first but very hard later. After getting accustomed to everybody at home, I really became part of the family. If you re-read my last statement, you will notice that I called my Uncles place in SA, "home". That is really how I feel about it. It will always be home and I don't see myself ever being uncomfortable there.



The first thing I'd like to share that I learnt away from home, is the fact that I found myself on the "outside looking in".



What is the difference between looking at a room, in a house, from inside it and looking at it from the outside i.e. through a window? Well from the inside you can only see sections of the room at any given time. The span of your eyes is limited. You can not see the entire picture but only parts of it. Looking at the same room from the outside in, adds a whole new dimension! You get to have a holistic view. I got to look in from the outside when I lived as a dependant rather than as an heir.



I am the first born in my family. Its not something I often think about, there's no bell in my head that constantly rings reminding me that I am the first born. I am now aware that there's a bell that rings in the heads of all those who have lived with my family for an extended period of time but are not my siblings. When they looked at me, they could not help but realise that I was the first born.



I know this because I, for the last two years, walked in their shoes. I was no longer a prince but I was now a mere dependant. My Uncle, Aunt and their family really made me feel part of the family but there was this bell in my head that kept ringing. I was not a child of my guardians, I was a dependant. Every time I saw their two children, I thought,"They are what this is all about, this food I'm eating, this t.v am watching, its all theirs, am not involved in this. I am insignificant."



I was no longer free to hold on to the T.V remote and change channels at will, I now watched what the members of the family I found, preferred, something I have never known. I could nolonger play my music as loud as I wanted to, I could not go to the fridge and prepare me a snack any time I felt like, I could not ask for money anytime I wanted to. There was no one to run to when I had a headache or stomach ache. No mom, no dad. I could not rearrange the room to fit my preference, I couldn't visit any room I felt like. I now understood what a "master bedroom" was. I now know that a master bedroom is a room you have never and will never enter! I nolonger had the freedom to scream or shout or do things which are silly or put my feet up or sit on the carpet, it was all gone.



I had to make sharp adjustments. At first all these things did not occur to me. I was still enjoying South Africa, still looking around, still exploring but when my feet finally touched the ground, the fact that I was a dependant really fell heavy on me. It was hard-nolonger first born, no longer the centre, no longer on the inside but rather on the "outside-looking in".



Thankfully, God had blest me with a loving, family. By the time I began my second year in SA, I was able to do all the things I couldn't. But for quite a long time, those things I took for granted, I nolonger had.



When I left home, I was about 18 years old, and also a man so, I had enough ballast to handle the whole thing but it was still very, very hard. I can only imagine what those dependants who've lived in our home have had to go through especially with my selfishness. I recall times when I was so unwelcoming, insisting on having the remote, sleeping on the bed alone so my brother would have to share with the dependant, or even sleeping in the sitting room if things were not going my way. How unwelcome they must have felt! Thank God he saved me!



Letting dependants know that you are the first born of the family is the most unwelcoming thing you can ever do. Believe me, they know you are first born, they know that the bread winners are your parents-don't rub it in!



The other thing I missed on the other side was the love and care. Not that I didn't get any but that I didn't get the 101% I am accustomed to. Obviously my SA parents could not give me that, they had two children of their own! They really balanced things and made me feel cared for but I missed the 24 hour attention, 7 days a week for sure!



The thing I learnt is that God had given me a family so that I can share it with others, especially those dependants who come to stay with us. I should do everything in my power to share the privileges and make them feel welcome and ask them what they need and show them love.



One thing is for sure, at home you will now find me making the most of my privilege of being part of the nuclear family, I spread myself everywhere and anywhere. I especially like the carpet just infront of the t.v with a cushion beneath my head! My parent obviously wonder whats wrong with this boy sleeping around the floor like that at the age 20, its just that I've missed being a kid in the house I guess. I've missed the freedom to be a child. At home, I don't have to prove anything, I can let go of the child in me alittle. I hope I will never forget this lesson and forever remember to use the place God had given me to make others feel at home away from home.



Mwindula.

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Running A Home

6am this morning, marked exactly 2 weeks since I last saw my parents in the flesh, thanks to skype! Skype is just great! You can talk to anyone, anywhere as long as you both have computers with an Internet connection and even be able to see them as you talk! It would probly have to be high speed though. Dad and Mom left the house for the airport enroute to Brazil the week before last.

There were some mixed feelings. Dad and Mom were obviously alittle anxious because for the first time they left us all by ourselves as "children" for a considerable period of time, half a month! We as children had some mixed feelings about it too.

On Sunday evening, Mom gave me a talk on responsibility and all that.

Things have gone pretty well, the house is still standing, so are its members. All members of the house who were present after the parents departure are still staying in the house although we came very close to losing one. Don't worry, the story is too interesting for me not to tell!

During the parents absence alot has happened, there has definitely been a whole lot of drama. I, unfortunatley, was at the centre of all the problems.

Our first night alone, I remember distinctly that power went, and I upset my young brother. Alittle further on and I upset my young sister. The beginning of the second week saw my sister leave the house, literally, because I had upset her, again. Yes, its been a memorable week alright!

The night power went, my brother asked my sister (I should do a post on my family so that I can begin addressing my siblings by name instead of by their relationship to me!) for a candle so he could study because he was going to write an exam the next day. For some reason he didn't get his candle and so he asked me to intervene. Well, I told him that it is important to "make hay while the Sun shines" and not at night when the power might go. Well, he did not take that too well! After clarifying what I actually meant cause it looked like he had missed my point, he told me firstly, that he was infact ready for his paper but simply wanted to go through some past papers and secondly, that he did not spend his day watching t.v as accused (by myself) but had actually spent his day studying taking regular breaks to refresh his mind by turning on the television for a few minutes each time. Well after I concluded, our public dispute (our audience being our two sisters), my brother was still quite upset and muttered a few words as he walked away in rage.

The power came back and went again. My brother came back from his room and confronted me in the dark, we couldn't see each other. Basically, he told me that he had a couple problems with my behaviour towards him especially infront of others, namely, our sisters, my friends and his friends. I plead "not guilty" to all charges and quickly became my on advocate. He wasn't absolutely happy after I was done but I suppose took comfort in the fact that he had voiced out his grievances. We haven't really argued since.

It was not a very good start to my reign as "man of the house". Little did I that I had not seen anything yet! I do not even remember what caused the dispute between my sister and I. My best guess is that it all began when she got her plate for supper from the kitchen, sat in the sitting room and without waiting for the others, started eating. I told her to be patient next time, so we can pray and eat together. Maybe that sparked something, I'm not really sure. Well, I did something wrong, she (my sister) was quick to correct me, I refused to bend-pride but after she left, I yielded. Then she came back to again tell me that I was in the wrong still, which I was, sorry I am beating about the bush here-deliberately so.

Anyway, my sister and I even stopped talking to each other, literally. I remembered that at a certain point, I would have to begin leading the family devotions and obviously, I couldn't lead devotions well, if I was not on speaking terms with a member of the house. With that in mind, on Friday night, the first Friday night with out the parents, I got home and asked my sister, Mwape, if she could come into my room so we could talk. I then went to my room, started playing the guitar while waiting for her. Just when it seemed that I would have to go call her again, she arrived. I acknowledged that I was wrong the day I had refused to listen to her correction and apologised for it. I then asked her to tell me what I needed to work on and I would simply listen.

It was like giving her a belt and telling her to whip away! She shot me down! "Mwindula, you are rude, unaffectionate, arrogant, argumentative..." and so on she went. When she gave me her list, my reaction (in my mind ofcourse) was, "yeah, right." I didn't agree with a word she said! That was until she gave me example after example for each item on her list. And she was having so much fun doing it! I mean, we were called for supper and she immediately asked that we be given a couple more minutes. After emptying the last of the bullets in her gun, she was done. I promised her that I would work on the things she had mentioned. After that things were good as new, infact, they were better! You'd never had known that we had argued.

The biggest challenge came on the first Sunday evening since my parents departure. This time, my sister was being funny. Over lunch she had acted really silly to me infront of her friends, I won't go into details. Anyway, she lost the battle and had thus gotten upset with me. That evening she walked out of the house at night without my consent or anyone else's to go to my other sisters place. She returned the next day. Monday evening, she again, walked out of the house, but this time instead of watching her leave,I ran after her. Our conversation was pretty intense:

Mwindula: Where you going?

Sister: To ask the guards to get me something next door.

Mwindula: That's not what you told [our brother] when he asked you where you were off to as you walked out the door a second ago.

She thought I was now trying to interrogate her and began walking away. I continued talking and she continued walking. I grasped her arm to stop her walking and she exploded! "Don't squeeze my arm like that! Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah." We exchanged words, not screaming or anything but she was definitely on fire!

I'll bet the guards, who were watching the whole thing, were getting some real life stage entertainment!

I apologised for being rough with her:

"Sorry I didn't mean to be rough but what else could I have done? I was trying to stop you from walking away while I was talking to you. Look, is there a problem? (No response, and she wasn't looking at me either.) Whatever you want, you should not have to leave the house, with two brothers within its walls, to go ask the guards outside to get it. The reason why dad left me as the oldest man in the house is because he expected that whatever you need, requiring a mans strength or help, you could get from me. If you don't feel comfortable with me helping you or you don't want to talk to me, we can get another person who you would rather, handles your needs. (Still no response, no eye contact either.) Who should we call who you would be more comfortable speaking with? One of the elders maybe? Even yesterday, when you walked out at night, if anything happened to you, what would I tell dad? Dad, "she walked out and I failed to stop her?" Whatever you need, I am here to meet it."

I left it at that and she went to talk to the guards. I thank God he gave me grace to handle that confrontation. She was a little upset from that day but as the days rolled by she came around and before long things were all good again. During the time she was upset after the confrontation, the words "love her like Jesus" kept coming to me. Its actually a song by "Casting Crowns". Everytime we called her to eat and she didn't want to, I thought, let me allow to cool off, let me love her like Jesus.

Overall God has been great to us. He has kept us and has kept sanity. One thing is for sure, I am not interested in running a home at all. Juice given to Dad and Mom who deal with radical teens like us "children" in their home. The taste of running a home has really made me appreciate my parents and what they do for me and my siblings. They are coming home tomorrow and I can't wait!!

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What have I done now?!

I just had to do it. I couldn't leave the poor thing out there on the street. It was so small and it kept on crying, so far from any home, obviously lost by its mother.

Yesterday, or was it the day before? I was escorting my friends, Edwin and Henry, and as we walked along, we came across a little kitten. It was so tiny, about the size of my hand. It was walking, staggering actually, aimlessly in circles, crying or whatever that was. It was obviously born not too long ago to a homeless cat.

Well, what were we going to do about this?

Edwin stated from onset that he was not at all interested in the little animal and wouldn't touch it with a 10 foot pole!

Oh no, its crying right now, its in my room, I don't know what to do, it won't eat and I bet its going to starve pretty soon.**slips out**

Back!

No worries, it kept crying because it messed its cage and I am so happy! It seemed to be eating so little but apparently not! If it didn't have anything in its little stomach, well then, there wouldn't be any mess, so for me, a mess is an excellent sign!

Alright, where was I?

Oh yes, Edwin made it crystal clear he wasn't interested in the little thing. He is one of those people who don't fancy animals-like my mom. I tried to persuade him:

Myself: Ed, take it home with you...

Edwin: Ah! I can't! I don't like these things!

Myself: Come on! It will be fun, you can play with it, it will jump on you everytime you get home, it will sleep next to you in bed...

Edwin then explained that he simply couldn't, he liked sleeping with the bed all to himself!

I tried one last time.

I threatened to tell all the sisters in the lord about his lack of compassion for the helpless creature. It didn't work! He took it as a compliment!

Henry also refused to take it home with him, although not as elaborately as Ed!

Well, the ball was in my court. I asked Henry to help me find something to carry it in. Henry could not believe I was actually going to take it home. Well, I couldn't leave it out there. It would be equivalent to killing it. Infact, I suggested we smash it with a large boulder when both guys refused. I mean, if none of us were going to care for it, and just leave it out there, it would die of starvation or be killed by someone or something. Why not put it out of its inevitable misery?

It was so tiny and it kept shivering. I carried it home. I'm trying hard to feed it but it won't eat. Its probly too young for solid food, I'm giving it milk. I think its searching for its mother's breast when it keeps searching the sole of my foot with its mouth. I give it milk on a plate but I think it doesn't know how to lick yet, but hey, who or what needs to learn how to lick milk off a plate?!

I am looking for a baby feeding bottle now.

Mom and Dad arrive on Tuesday. I'll bet as soon as they find out about the little cat, its gone! Well, I couldn't leave it on the streets, I just couldn't.

What will I name it? Let me sleep over it. Next update on the little fellow and he will have a name-promise! Infact the title of the post will be: Update on __________.

Mwindula.

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He almost got away with it!

Last night was unique for my family. Usually when it’s a family member’s birthday, we have a small party in the evening. We cut the cake, bring out the confectionaries and sit around our dinning table. Each individual gets to ask the birthday man, woman boy or girl any question in the world and it must be answered! After that is done, the birthday man, woman, boy or girl is given the opportunity to tell each family member, anything that is upon their heart to do with the particular person, be it advise, rebuke, praise etc. Dad says it’s the only time we [the children] get to tell “dad and mom” whatever we want and be able to get away with it!

Anyway, my brother and I have birthdays under 3 weeks apart. None us had any evening party but last night we gathered in the sitting room to perform the “question and answer ritual”.

Actually we [the kids] were busy watching “Pirates of the Caribbean” when dad interrupted the movie. Well we all gathered round and got started. I was first as my birthday came before my brother’s. My interest is not what happened during that session but what happened afterwards. When we were done my Dad asked us to get our bibles so we could look at something.

About a month and a half ago my cousin got expelled from school for drinking, bless his heart. Two of my cousins live with us but are only home 3 months a year because they are in boarding school. Well, they are in their final year and were returning to school after their final break before they finished high school when one of them got expelled after arriving drunk (or rather arriving, having drunk alcohol) at school on his first day after holiday. Well, he came right back home.

Its worth mentioning here that my dad is a very calm man. You could come home from killing someone and he won’t pounce on you but greet you almost as though nothing happened [hyperbole (!)]. Well that’s how he greeted my cousin, with a smile on his face, of course telling my mischievous cousin that “they needed to have a chat”.

Dad’s an extremely busy man and did not have that “chat” with my cousin. It was beginning to look like he was going to get away with it. Well, didn’t he get the shock of his life last night when dad not only addressed the issue but addressed it quite strongly, for lack of a better word!

My cousin leaves for his boarding school to write his final exams (as that is where he is registered) tomorrow, Monday.

After we got our bibles that eventful evening, dad asked us to turn to Matthew 5:44.

"But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" - Jesus
of Nazareth, as recorded in Matthew 5:44 (NIV translation)

We discussed the passage a while, then dad asked, “Why is it important for Christians to love their enemies?”

Dad wanted a particular answer and after a while it was crystal clear. If Christians do not love their enemies they will misrepresent their Father who is in heaven and will cause the world to mock God.

Then came the punch line! Dad used this same analogy in the home setup. He said that when we as children of the home go out of the house to school or whatever we are perceived as reflections of our parents. Therefore if we carry ourselves in any way, whether positive or negative, people will say “So this is the way this child’s parents have brought him/her up.” Therefore, if my parents have brought me up with Christian values and I go get myself drunk on the first day of school, I a misrepresenting my parents.

Dad went further to illustrate how that my cousin had misrepresented dad and mom. It was really embarrassing for him, he must have wanted to sink 6 feet underground but I think it was well worth it, especially if the point was driven home. We love him and care for him too much to see him wind down the spiral of alcoholism and drunkeness. We will do everything in our power to prevent it!

Dad said in closing that it is not easy to represent parents correctly as children or God correctly as Christians, but we should be driven by gratitude for our parents and for God.

In the case of our parents, they have clothed, fed, educated, loved, cared and served us each and everyday of our lives, surely the least we can do is not make them the subject of mockery by misrepresenting them.

In the case of the Christian, God has chosen, called, justified, adopted, set free, transformed, imparted peace, joy and love and redeemed. The list is endless! Surely the least we can do is not make him the subject of mockery by misrepresenting him.

It was quite an evening that Saturday, the 18 of October, 2008.

Mwindula.

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Mwanawasa's Family Pictures

Here are some pictures of our late president and his family. If you want to know more about the amazing thing he did, read the precurrent post. Very few things are as beautiful as family...

You gatta love family,

Mwindula Mbewe.

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