“Jesus is Forever” – Pastor Isaac Wimberley

“If there are words for Him then I don’t have them.

See my brain has not yet reached the point where it could form a thought that could adequately describe the greatness of my God.

And my lungs have not yet developed the ability to release a breath with enough agility to breathe out the greatness of His Love.

And my voice, see my voice is so inhibited , restrained by human limits that it’s hard to even sing the praise up, you see, if there are words for Him, then I don’t have them.

My God, His Grace is remarkable, mercies are innumerable, strength is impenetrable, He is honorable, accountable, favorable.

He’s unsearchable yet knowable, indefinable, yet approachable, indescribable, yet personal

He is beyond comprehension, further than imagination, constant through generations, King of every nation, but if there are words for Him, then I don’t have them

You see my words are few to try and capture the ONE TRUE GOD, using my vocabulary will never do, but I use words as an expression, an expression of worship to a Savior, a Savior who is both worthy and deserving of my praise, so I use words.

My heart extols the Lord, blesses His Name forever. He has won my heart, captured my mind, and has bound them both together. He has defeated me in my rebellion, conquered me in my sin, He has welcomed me into His presence, completely invited me in. He has made Himself the object of my sight, flooding me with mercies in the morning, drowning me with Grace in the night, but if there are words for Him, then I don’t have them.

But what I do have is GOOD NEWS, for my God knew that man-made words would never do, for words are just tools that we use to point to the truth.

So He sent His Son Jesus Christ as THE WORD, LIVING PROOF, He is THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE GOD, THE FIRST BORN OF ALL CREATION, FOR BY HIM ALL THINGS WERE CREATED, GIVING NOTHINGNESS, FORMATION.

AND BY HIS WORD HE SUSTAINS IN THE POWER OF HIS NAME. FOR HE IS BEFORE ALL THINGS AND ABOVE ALL THINGS HE REIGNS. HOLY IS HIS NAME!

SO PRAISE HIM FOR HIS LIFE! THE WAY HE PERSERVERED IN STRIFE. THE HUMBLE SON OF GOD BECOMING THE PERFECT SACRIFICE.

PRAISE HIM FOR HIS DEATH! THAT HE WILLINGLY STOOD IN OUR PLACE THAT HE LOVINGLY ENDURED THE GRAVE THAT HE BATTLED OUR ENEMY, AND ON THE THIRD DAY ROSE IN VICTORY.

HE IS EVERYTHING THAT WAS PROMISED.

PRAISE HIM AS THE RISEN KING.

LIFT YOUR VOICE AND SING, FOR ONE DAY HE WILL RETURN FOR US, AND WE WILL FINALLY BE UNITED WITH OUR SAVIOR FOR ETERNITY! ETERNITY!

SO IT IS NOT JUST WORDS THAT I PROCLAIM, FOR MY WORDS POINT TO THE WORD, AND THE WORD HAS A NAME, HOPE HAS A NAME, JOY HAS A NAME, PEACE HAS A NAME, LOVE HAS A NAME, AND THAT NAME IS JESUS CHRIST!

PRAISE HIS NAME FOREVER!!!!!!!!”

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Life and faith

Life has this habit of coming to me at full-speed. Sometimes I get knocked down, sometimes Newton’s Third Law of motion comes into play and I fight back: “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”.
However, in as much as life goes on and it becomes a whirlwind; I have realized one thing. I always look upon my faith. There are times when it escapes me (faith); times when I don’t believe at all. Times when things become so difficult that I lose track of what is happening. Having experienced both worlds, I have come to accept the world in which I belong and where I want to be. The faith world. God has this thing of free-will; where He doesn’t force you to believe and worship Him. Where He knows that your spirit was made to worship, that eventually you will get back to worshiping Him with a force greater and stronger than before.

These are my ramblings today at 5 a.m, they are not making sense even to me. Hopefully tomorrow morning at 5 a.m I will be more lucid. As for now, I am telling Jesus all my problems and He is answering me.

Big tings agwaan

So fortunes changed finally. I got a job; my first real job in my field of study ever in my life. A regional start-up in a way. I could never have asked for anything better. I am able to tick off all the boxes against this job and say yes, it is my dream job, in a country that I have always wanted to work in.

One thing is for certain, no work experience is irrelevant though. All my work at the Ministry as an unpaid intern, my stint at some private consultancy and my four long years teaching high school science have all paid off.

I wake up feeling the same excitement that I felt when I was teaching those kids. The feeling that today I am going to achieve something which will improve someone’s life. Back then I was improving their future in terms of setting up an educational foundation. These days I am improving their future by ensuring the provision of primary health care.

Thank you God!

The Departed

Today I went to visit my mother’s grave. I do that sometimes, just to tell her stories and update her on how everyone, myself included, are doing. Anyway, this post is not about her though. The things I saw there got me thinking at 5am.

Firstly, you have to know that she died and was obviously buried in 1994. That is close to 22 years ago. Beside her, are two empty lots which are yet to be filled. Most people around her died around the same time as her. People buried in this cemetery bought their last resting a long time ago. Those around her either bought the same time or before. So, these two empty lots got me thinking. Could it be that the people who are supposed to be buried there are still alive, more than 22 years after they bought these lots? Did they pass on already, and got buried elsewhere? Were they cremated maybe? Did they join the great Zimbabwean migration? Does knowing that you have secured a final resting place give you “Peace of mind”? Or rather it is disconcerting to you as it is to me?

Another thing that struck me, I saw quite a number of couples buried together in the same grave. However, their death dates were years apart. One couple had a difference of four years. The caption on their grave was “Together at last”. I am no expert in burial things; therefore I would like to know how they did it. It would be nice for my soulmate and I, to be “Together at last”.

However in the midst of it all, I saw some sad realities. I saw a “Young Soldier” born the same year as I, who died ten years later. He was termed a “Young Soldier” because he was in the Salvation Army church. It is sad when you find an age-mate who didn’t make it to where you are. I saw a young girl, born in 1993 that died in 2014, at only 21. She was too young, I wonder what happened.

I was touched, when I saw a tombstone which looked very recent. The departed was a man with a caption saying “Wallaby”. The man died before 1980, and only now his friends, a married couple had put a tombstone on his grave. Did this man have no family? Was he a “Wallaby” because he came from Australia or because he supported the Wallabies’?

As I was talking to my mother about some silly thing, an old man drove in and parked his car next to his wife’s grave. The old man broke down and cried. It was the saddest thing ever. I wondered, had this man ever remarried? If he had, did his wife know he comes to his wife grave to pour his heart out to her? Then, I saw him call the caretakers and they came to clean the grave. I guess he paid them for their efforts. Their familiarity with each other suggested they often do it.

This cemetery is full of young and old people. All races, people who died in the 1950s, and those who died in the 21st century.

Personally, I am still to make my mind if I want to be buried or cremated. Secondly, I am not sure if I would rest easy if bought a grave to rest in finally, or I would rather they bury me beside Ruya River, in my home area in Mazowe District, Zimbabwe. If some foreign donors decide to build another dam on this river they will just relocate us in small coffins like they did my ancestors. I would probably be dug, all bones with my hair, in its tinted coffee brown glory still intact.

 

2015- The Year I Literally Cannot Believe

2015 is the year which I shall write about and shall never mention ever again. I cannot believe that a year can turn out to be so bad. I am still in disbelief. Maybe one day it shall all come to light as to why God chose this year to be particularly bad that it left me flabbergasted, yep that is the word actually.

The only good thing which happened this year is I graduated with my MSc Degree. From there-on, everything went downhill.

Firstly, I had to send some of my precious luggage with a friend who was going to Kenya, because of luggage complications. This was all part of the confusion which ensues when people are now returning back home. I am not sure if I shall ever see any of those precious, valuable belongings ever again.

Then I arrived home to my beloved country literally homeless. I was unemployed and with no place to stay. So I was facing an unknown future of hopping from one home to another. Luckily an uncle offered me a place to stay. I was so grateful, never-mind the fact that the place is in a boring town in which there is nothing to do and I have no friends. So, I spent most of my time on the internet with imaginary internet friends who are so nasty most of the time (Twitter). Or they caused me such distress that I ended up closing down my social network account (Facebook), lest I get a nervous break down.  This is how I ended up writing this blog anyway.

My CV and degree managed to get me nine, yes NINE interviews in 2015; and not one job. Do you know how heartbreaking this is? Of course a third of those I may have failed fair and square. The other third I lacked a certain skill, such as a certain language- French or Spanish. The other third, I did not have the required experience even though I had aced the interview and I showed I could do the job. Now, where am I supposed to get this experience if no-one is willing to give me a chance??

I planned trips to various Southern African countries to go job hunting and all those 5 or 6 trips never panned out because the sponsors always pulled out the last minute.

Finally, the trip to Tanzania materialized. I would visit a friend for thirty days and see what the job market looked like. I was mentally prepared for the journey, but apparently my body was not. I arrived in Arusha, Tanzania on Wednesday the 16th of December 2015. I spent the whole Thursday sleeping, fatigue I thought. Friday more fatigue and coughing. Saturday, fever kicked in. By Monday I could not eat or do anything. Cough mixture did not work. Tuesday, my friend took me to Aga Khan University Hospital. X-rays showed that my right lung was half-full of pulmonary fluid. Pneumonia they said, but Tuberculosis (TB) was highly suspected. I was devastated.

So, I filled my prescription, went home and dutifully took my medicine. The symptoms reduced but did not go away. I thought I was getting better. The night sweats increased. I went back to see the doctor after ten days, January 4th 2016. The X-rays showed I was getting worse. I had TB. I was shocked and now I just wanted to go home. Luckily, I had bought a plane ticket the moment I realized I had Pneumonia.

The doctor referred me to the government hospital where further tests confirmed I indeed had TB. They started me on TB treatment immediately. The treatment is strict and continues for 6 months (HALF A YEAR!!). Who gets Pneumonia and TB at the same time, in a foreign country? So my thirty days in Tanzania are about to be up, and I have spent them all on a sick-bed. To make matters worse, I just broke my hosts broom. That is too much stress for me right now.

I believe in God, and I have come to ask myself that what sins or wrongs have I done to deserve this from my God? What have I done which cannot be forgiven?

For everyone I know; my friends and family; 2015 ended up on a high note: they got jobs, promotions, children and got married to the love of their lives.

I am jobless, ill, loveless and hopeless. 2015 has truly been a horrible year which I am laying down to rest in a place where it cannot and shall not be dug up ever again.

As for my Tanzanian experience, that is a story for another day.

 

My Liebster Award

award

I have been nominated for (Drum roll) The Liebster Award. My first nomination was by Beaton on the 17th September 2015. The second nomination was by Odenbk on the 19th of October.  They are both nominees of this Prestigious Award. Find out all about what Beaton did to get nominated for the award at Becoming the Muse. OdenBK can be found at OdenBK, My Life, My Testimony. Then you may understand how I came to be nominated too. I thank these two for nominating me. I guess I must be doing something right.

This post has been pending since the very first nomination. I had to publish it today, lest I got more nominations. This is my very first nomination of any kind, and I wanted the post to be perfect. I have spent so many 5ams’ working on this.

I shall proceed to answer the relevant questions and maybe add a few of my own. For a list of how the original questions were please refer to the two earlier mentioned blogs. You are free to choose these questions and also add a few variations of your own I believe.

1. What is the story behind your blog name?

I always woke up at five am. My mind would rush all over and I would think of too many things. Facebook would not allow me to air out my feelings accurately without people judging me. I decided to start the blog and to tweet. I didn’t care how many followers I had or even if anyone read the post. As long as I emptied my mind and made room for many more thoughts.

2. Why did you start blogging? Has it turned out to be what you expected?

I started the blog to talk to myself. Like I said before, it was a way to let some steam out. It was also a way to showcase my exploits, my experiences and to share my humor and jokes. Yes It has turned out to be very therapeutic and the feeling of publishing to world gives a thrill which is incomparable.

3. What was your favourite class in High School?

I loved Physics, Chemistry and History classes. I am a natural scientist; so the science classes are not a surprise. The history classes were because I could relate the events and places from my Historical Novels.

4. Favourite books?

The first book is my favourite. The ones following are in no particular order.

  1. Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchel
  2. Anthills of the Savanna by Chinua Achebe
  3. The Testament by John Grisham
  4. The Sands of Time by Sidney Sheldon
  5. Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembgwa
  6. Fire Starter by Tom Clancy
  7. Barika remashefu (a shona novel)

But these are a few of my favourite books. This was a difficult question.

5. Favourite movie?

Gone in 60 seconds

6. What three things would you take to a desert island with you?

  1. My laptop with huge speakers and an internet connection
  2. Solar system for my speakers and laptop
  3. Alcohol; an infinite supply

7. If aliens invaded the planet why would you be the first they should take.

I tell good jokes and stories; and I know a good lot about this Planet. I am a goldmine of information

8. The first blogs I ever read

The very first blog I ever read was VaChihera. It was written by Lister Chapeta a high school friend and has since been decommissioned. She sent me the link and it was an amazing read. The second one was Pfimbi Yangu, found at pfimbiyangu.wordpress.com. This one is written by Tinotenda Hondo, another high school  classmate. It was recommended to me by a Kenyan classmate and I was excited to be reading something by a person I know and was impressed that a fellow Zimbabwean was breaking the boarder barriers and reaching out to other nationalities.  The good thing is these are the people who I used to read novels with in high school. Some of us always declared that we would write someday and these two women did it. They inspired me to write too.

9. Pictures or Words?

I prefer words. I have never been a fan of pictures whether they are still or moving. I am the type of girl that reads the book and wouldn’t mind skipping the movie. I first read Sherlock Holmes, Bond, Bourne, Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew before I watched the pictures. I can safely say my imagination is more vivid than the motion pictures.  I would rather listen to the radio than watch a music video. This is why you may never see any pictures on my blog, save that of boots in the ‘Hanging the Boots’ post. I was still young in the business and still trying to figure my way around the block.

10. One word that covers me completely

Infectious

My nominees

  1. Words of Scarlette
  2. My Matatu Chronicles
  3. Random Thoughts
  4. Random Musings of a Drama Queen
  5. Ankit Mishra
  6. WekwaMutoko
  7. davidpr86
  8. Are we there yet

The Rules

  • Once you are nominated, make a post thanking and linking the person who nominated you.
  • Include the Liebster Award sticker in the post too.
  • Nominate 5 -10 other bloggers who you feel are worthy of this award. Let them know they have been nominated by commenting on one of their posts. You can also nominate the person who nominated you.
  • Ensure all of these bloggers have less than 200 followers.
  • Lastly, COPY these rules in the post.

Putting Names to Faces

Learning at a school with international students is great but has its disadvantages. On graduation day, my Nigerian friend put this disadvantage into words so accurately,

“Natural disasters and wars have just taken on a whole new meaning. If anything happens in any country now, you have a face you know personally. It’s not just a disaster in India, Venezuela, Indonesia or Botswana anymore. You know someone who is affected. And every day your heart goes through a lot.”
Shortly afterwards, the earthquake struck Nepal. Three classmates; never mind those who were school mates; were Nepalese. We had a class group on Facebook. We didn’t know what to post. The whole school was grieving; current students and us alumni. We didn’t know what to do or say. The school set up an online account for donations, those of us who could participated in Participatory GIS Mapping. Because this is what the school does, grooming a high- breed of amazing Geo-information Scientists. Sadly, one of my best friends lost her father. They had spent four days looking for him. The earthquake in Nepal ceased to be just an Asian quake in my lounge back home in Zimbabwe. I knew someone. I grieved too. My family felt my sorrow, and grieved with me. Pictures on BBC ceased to be faceless.
Recently, I saw citizens of Botswana joking about how the Eritrean National Football team who had come to play them had lost and didn’t want to return to their country. My heart grieved as I remembered my two Eritrean classmates. One was a very close friend of mine. And even to this day she tells me her grievances about her country. How everyone is a soldier. How she, very fragile, can handle an AK47 rifle. On BBC you see news of Eritreans fleeing their country. The jokes from Botswana ceased to be just jokes to me.
Talking to Rwandese, mention the Genocide; tears fall. Some lost their whole families and grew up in neighbouring Burundi. But they made it and were bright enough to get international fellowships. I talked to a Rwandese and he was not against the idea of President Kagame running for a third term.
“We know our history,” he said, “we do not want to go back to that dark era again.”
When Xenophobia hit Zimbabweans, Kenyans and Nigerians in South Africa and others; the South African among us were at a loss. They could feel the animosity. One went as far as to apologize on our SADC Student page. No-one responded to him. He was putting names to faces.
The stories are many. Maybe one day I shall have the heart to write them all.