In Search of Truth

The Call Part 2

2009-01-06T12:35:00.005+03:00

So the Call happened on December 6th 2008...sitting in the baking December heat, on the surprisingly plush grass of the Nyayo Stadium people began to gather to pray...and sing, and pray some more. The seekers surged forward, away from the stands, seemly eager to get closer to the elusive wave of spiritual connectedness that seemed to emanate from the stage...The numbers trickled in, one by one, soon the field was scattered with young men and women prostrate before God, with no prompting, no emotional manipulation, no promises of greatness and great wealth, but just hearts open and hungry, desperate for a move of God in this generation. Tears fell unchecked as leaders, pastors, fathers, politicians, sons and daughters turned their hearts one to another, for forgiveness, restoration and renewed relationships..One month later has anything changed? Do these events mean more than just fleeting yet heartfelt moments with God that fade away under the pressure of life and it's many challenges or get trampled beneath the next new exciting thing that comes along? Testimony Sunday at Nairobi Chapel 10:30am: young person after young person stood before the church declaring a faith that is their own, not their fathers or mothers...but a sincere steadfast desire to walk the walk and talk the talk for themselves...LORD You who began this good work, bring it to completion..

The Call Part 1

2008-11-01T15:35:00.005+03:00

Today totally exhausted after spending the night in a Kesha with the Chapel Youth... Yes, I said it right... A KESHA WITH CHAPEL YOUTH!??! God is doing big things! It's not like these young people were totally heathen or something, but it's been amazing watching a small bunch of about 30 young guys come together for bible study in the BIG TENT last year at Impala Club, with most barely talking to one another or contributing to the conversation...then going to the BIG TENT which has now become the YOUTH TENT (dubbed CLUB XPRESSIONS...can I get a YEY YAH!) 2 weeks ago and seeing a sea of 200+ faces, with hands raised up to God in worship, dancing their hearts out to "I am a friend of God"...Actually heard an AMEN in the crowd when a sermon point hit home!!!! Then last night, hearing that special sound of sincere heartfelt worship, then that sweet silence, when the entire room was down on their knees, laying down every crown and pretension in the presence of the King...WHOA...God is definitely doing something new...It's a season of accelerated growth, that's like a very cool time warp...the before and after picture looks like one of those 'i used to weigh a 250 pounds, but I lost 120 pounds in just 1 month, thanks Super Yucky Spinach Diet Drink' type things...but this time it's a steady diet of the WORD, that's Sweeter than Honey from the Honeycomb:-)

Original Sin

2008-10-22T10:21:00.003+03:00

So the quest for greater understanding continues...discovered last night that maybe I don't even realise what I am saved from...the law (curses of breaking the covenant- for Jews only??), 'original' sin, death...all the above..I think that maybe being Anglican, brought up Catholic may have something to do with my confusion...the importance of all this being, who I consider Jesus to be exactly..God, man, man-God, God-man, something else..did he have original sin? and if he did then doesn't that make our salvation nought...or on the other hand, what is 'original sin' is it the potential to sin, or spiritual death? Or is there no big concept of 'original sin' perse but rather we follow in the footsteps of Adam and his example (as the Eastern Church seems to purpose..or so I am told?) Many, many questions...guess the search continues tonight...

Every Mans Theology

2008-09-08T19:18:00.005+03:00

'Every Christian is a theologian...Genuine theology cannot be reduced to a list of faith statements' (you know, the type you sign below when applying for a job, or a scholarship:)) Whoa! These statements were but a few that stayed with me long after I left my Systematic Theology class today. The teach was intense, the atmosphere in class seemed a mix between fear, wary confusion and nervous excitement, as we were bombarded by this crazy new guy, in his long flowing Indianesque garb, who happens to be something like an Orthodox, Complimentarian, Charismatic, Presbyterian, Paedobaptist, Evangelical, Calvinist, Reformed, Protestant Christian. Ok, he wasn't all that intense, but simply a 'little' overwhelming for some of us on the first day of class...He seemed a man driven to get us shook up out of our comfort zones. Whats so bad about comfort zones anyway? Anyway the point seemed to be 'get them shook up...get them thinking' then hopefully get us knowing and understanding and eventually being able to articulate and defend what we believe, and why we believe what we believe.
Realised, I have been ignorant of my Anglican roots, actually blissfully so...even though I am on the official 'roll'. Roots that I realise (though I often would like to deny it), greatly influence my faith and how I live it out today. Does it matter that much(as he seemed to imply)? When a time of testing comes(this time he did not imply but vehemently declared it would happen..just as it did about 8months ago I guess) will my faith stand...or will I be lost in the tide of confusion and compromise? Hhmm...excited/freaking out about this challenge to come!

New Hope

2008-06-16T10:44:00.007+03:00

God has worked through history to fulfil His mission on the earth (to give people the opportunity to know Him, building a new people for Himself, restoring Creation and healing the Nation..as proposed by Chris Wright, The Mission of God, IVP, 2006), through the path of humility. It's amazing that though He is God, with all the power and might to do anything...He has chosen to take the path of weakness, turning what looks like hopeless situations into hotbeds of Hope...Abraham, an aging geriatric with a habitual lying problem to become the channel of Gods blessing the nations...Moses, a stuttering murder, becomes the deliver of the Israelites and leads them out of slavery..the Israelites, a bunch of grumbling, disobedient, rebellious ex-slaves, become the light and blessing to the earth...then eventually God comes into the earth Himself as Jesus, a carpenter…'conceived' out of wedlock, second guessed and disbelieved by many, utterly shamed and crucified on a cross, but later resurrected becoming the saviour of the world…revealing His great unfailing love for man...Peter...a coward, rash individual who was not always politically correct (Galatians 2) but become the Rock on which the church was built...The prosecution of the early and later church, brutal, gory, horrifying..yet acted as the impetus for the rapid growth and eventual Christianising of most of the known world over less than 500 years...The examples are endless, but for me what gives me hope is that if this is God's method, then there is hope for Africa. The ‘dark’ continent, the least of the least, often ridiculed…written off, shamed…could it be that the weakness of Africa gives her the unique privilege of becoming one of the ‘foolish things of the world…the things despised by the world, that confounds the wise..’ (1 Corinthians 1). I have hope for Africa, that from the ashes of suffering, this great continent will become a beautiful light, shinning in this dark world, a display of Gods splendour, a testament of how God can change and transform even the worst scenario. Africa, don’t be ashamed of your weakness, in the hopelessness of it all, the hand of God is lighting a spark. The impossible becomes possible in this place which was once called dark...Hope, Life and Healing are possible in the hand of God.

Time

2008-04-21T08:57:00.003+03:00

They say time heals all wounds. Not too sure about that (very shallow I think), time gives us the chance to transform from what we were to what we want to be, but only if we use it to do so..otherwise time actually helps us gloss over all wounds, errors in judgement and mistakes...till we hopefully forget, or they fester and turn gangrene. Its amazing, the gift we have; transformation is a process that time avails us, but transformation is not necessarily deliberate. Like the inevitability of the appearance of wrinkles around your eyes no matter how many 'New and effective' eye gels you use, with the passage of time, transformation occurs for better or worse. We can either choose to be transformed, or transformation happens to us..either way it happens. Time simply passes, and we find we become what we hoped to be or what we hoped to avoid.

Ecclesiastes 3:1, 6 &11. There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven... A time to search and a time to lose. A time to keep and a time to throw away... God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end (NLT).

New Beginnings..Part Two

2008-02-29T09:13:00.003+03:00

Hurrah! It's been a long time coming, the last two months have felt like...years! But now we not only HOPE, but we have an EXPECTATION of something good, a better brighter future! The deals been signed, the ink is drying, the first step has been taken. Now I pray we have the courage and resolve to take the next steps towards restoration and rebuilding, justice and democracy. This nation always had a future, maybe for some of us, we took it for granted. Now our home is again where our heart are. The pulse of the nation that had flatlined is revived...IT'S ALIVE!

New Beginnings

2008-02-28T09:35:00.008+03:00

This season has been very interesting for me with many new beginnings. First, the new insight I have gotten into the life of Kenya and its people, with all the undercurrents of politcal intrigue, overt social injustice and unresolved tribal sentiment that underlie our community. Second, wrestling with what to do about this new discovery and what it means for me as a student of the bible and theology in Africa. Third, working within the NEGST community through the work study program in the Communications Department writing articles on the Alumni, has brought me into close contact with church leaders that are literally shaping the destiny of the African church, and through this interaction seeking to discover can/do I have my own place within this story of the manifestation of the Kingdom of God in Africa? And finally, just yesterday I was voted in as the new Social Coordinator of the NEGST community, a docket that deals with the Social Welfare of the community - Health, Sanitation, Community welfare etc. After a short, yet challenging campaign period, the vote came in with a win margin of only 3 votes..Thank God its a Christian community or we may have had to have a recount + mass action, toss a coin...etc...(not funny).
Many new things...its an exiciting/scary season....
Father, show me the way...Your way, that I may walk in it.
Psalm 25:4 'Show me the path where I should walk, O LORD; point out the right road for me to follow.' NLT

Waiting to exhale

2008-02-14T12:22:00.003+03:00

With bated breath, I write reviews on Christology in Africa, discuss Semantics and gradable antonyms (what does it really mean to say 'the word of Christ' verses ' words of Christ' in Colossians 3:16? Does it make a difference either way? When we go back to the 'original' language, will we find some profound differences to what we thought we knew that will change our faith forever? Or is it to make sure they(scholars) got it right the first time?...or maybe for African Christianity... continue to explore topics that no else wants to....like Genocide - 2 Samuel 21..or incest and rape 2 Sam 13…ever noticed how King David’s reign was just full of drama?) and cram for Greek tests and explore the meaning of the Kingdom of God and how it is manifest through the church in Africa today (Christianese for how the Kingdom of God is visible or apparent in Africa) with church meaning the people of God rather than an institution....the same church that supposedly makes up 80% of Kenyan citizenry...makes me begin to ask myself some hard questions about the health of the church in Kenya...we're not doing as well as we thought). The thing about holding your breath is that it makes living 100% kind of difficult. You don't really have the capacity to handle the usual weight and stress that life in its myriad of experiences throws at you (find yourself snappish, forgetful...consistently late...or you're just generally not as sweet as you'd like to be). But even in the 50% you’re operating in right now, life continues, and with the bated breath, there lies a glimmer of hope that threatens to kindle out of control. So every night, I watch the news, wondering can I exhale now? Should I be back to life as usual? Should I start celebrating yet? I may not be back in full swing, but with every breath there is a moment I pray that things won't go back to 'normal' but instead, things will change. So for now I live waiting to exhale.

Matthew 11: 28-30 NLT ‘Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke fits perfectly, and the burden I give you is light."

Freedom

2008-02-08T16:15:00.000+03:00

It was interesting hearing the minister (Dr. Shaban) of Special Programs (which is dealing with the Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) crises), talking about the evacuation of people from the IDP camps. The good doctor informed the public that it's not government policy to resettle people in their ancestral homes, as every Kenyan has a right to settle and live anywhere in Kenya...yet the government, upon requests of those who have been terrorized out of their homes, is currently evacuating people from the IDP camps to their ancestral homes. It was sad listening to her, because it sounded like we have our policy, then there is the current crises, and the two don't meet...yet considering the pain and suffering that has occured, the decision to evacuate the displaced to wherever they desire to go, rather then secure their homes for them, is painfully understandable. Our policies are meant to guide our actions, yet at this point, they seem inadequate to the situation we now face. So now bus load after bus load arrives in towns and village centers all over the country, returning a disillusioned mass to start new lives amongst 'their own'. Freedom to live and work anywhere in this country is a right that is slowly being eroded to the point that dreams of free enterprise and the entrepreneurial spirit of our young people is being squelched almost irrevocably. Driven by fear, anger, revenge and despair, the average mwananchi is becoming more polarized by tribal sentiment...believing the only way to be survive, to be safe, to secure their future is within the cocoon of tribal based political patronage. As we wait with bated breathe for the political stalemate to be resolved, Kenyans need to begin to rethink freedom and security. How much does it mean to us? How can we resolve our fears and anger without giving up our freedom?

Heroes

2008-02-08T15:52:00.000+03:00

Mama Muthoni (a 40+ single mum, with a disabled daughter, who works as a casual worker in my sister’s garden) told us about the chaos that was happening in her neighborhood about 2 km's from my house. Everyone who was not a Kikuyu in the area was being thrown out of their homes in the middle of the night, some suffering more then others with their property burned and even being slashed with machetes in some cases. The attack began with a fear campaign that lasted about a week, when threatening leaflets were poured all over the streets in different estates, warning the people that if they did not move out, the Mungiki would move them out. Having nowhere else to go, many stayed, thinking these were just empty threats...this is Nairobi after all, and nothing had happened all week. So on when the attack came, they were caught off guard. Mama Muthoni told us that she watched helplessly from her window as the Luhya's, Luo's and any other non-kikuyu's in her compound were gathered together, as the attackers prepared their machetes. Not knowing what else to do, she began to pray...pray for wisdom, pray for strength, pray for something...anything to happen. Eventually after listening to the cries outside, the pleading, the wails of anguish, she couldn’t take it anymore. Clutching her daughter in her arms she took a step...towards the door, out the door, into the cold night and towards the men, who looked upon her with disdain (Mungiki after all believe that women should be seen not heard), but she plucked up her courage nonetheless and began to speak, to plead, to cajole, to beg for the lives of her neighbors. Time ticked by, defensive stances were strengthened, no one seemed to be listening, then seemingly out of nowhere someone said..."OK, let them go, but make sure they leave the area and don't come back." Lives were saved on that night last week...not by some strong warrior or clever negotiator, but rather by a simple mum who has heard enough hate talk, and seen enough violence, and decided 'if I don't do anything, who will?' Hiro Nakamura step aside...we have a new Hero in town!

A house divided

2008-01-30T14:00:00.000+03:00

The threats abound, rumors of Mungiki warriors in the forest, armed and ready to harm anyone who has an inconvenient name ....do we listen to the rumors or do we ignore the threat? If they are true, we rest uneasy, hoping that the combination of fervent prayer, reinforced by Masai steel and iron and double padlocks will keep the threat at bay...and if the rumors are false, all we have is an embarrassing story to tell about our paranoia. But yet, somehow we must keep hope alive, even in the face of machete's and guns, of fire and stones, of insult and hatred. This nation has survived to this day despite the odds...surrounded by strife and unrest, a haven of relative peace. A nation constituted as a result of locational and logistical convenience; numerous tribes, brought together because of enterprise, a producer of raw materials for the industries of the crown. Yet despite our forced amalgamation, despite the continued push towards development engineered (to some extent) to continue to support certain interests, we began to discover interests of its own. So now we are more than just producers, labour, a seat of power for some apathetic force. We are a people, forged together by shared life, shared experience, shared land, even shared ideals. So when they threaten me, my family, my own, they threaten more then just a statistic, a faceless girl, they threaten themselves, for how can a house, divided against itself survive?

Sweet Comfort

2008-01-28T14:09:00.001+03:00

The street is busy, the dust unavoidable, kicked up by the thousands of feet treading to and fro, going here and there, making deals, selling things, meeting people, making a living, striving to keep busy in a world gone mad. Walking down the street, I have to weave in between the tight squeeze of people, fighting for space between matatus and hawkers, darting out of the way of oncoming traffic, determined to get to my destination in one piece. Finally I arrive, the smell wafting through the dark corridor a testament that they’re still in business. Thank God, there’s still hope in this dark world! The sweet smell of freshly baked concoctions of flour and sugar, margarine and chocolate, nuts and spices, all mixed into an array of heady flavours that are carried by a dusty breeze onto the sun baked street, tempting passersby to investigate the source, to see, to taste, to fill themselves in the comfort of sweetness, or so the crowds that darken this corridor with me testify.
After the bustle of the street a few feet outside, the silence inside is eerie. At least twenty people fight for space at the counter, quietly jostling one another in a bid to get the attention of the girls on the other side, hoping to be out of the stuffy room sooner rather than later, the faster to enjoy whatever treat tickles their fancy. The silence is uncanny for a tiny shop in the city centre packed to capacity. Everyone if whispering, so when my turn comes, I whisper too, pointing at my choice in the glass counter to indicate my order, then silently stepping back, nodding to person behind me to indicate they can take their turn. Everyone avoids looking at one another in the eye, the tentative smiles usually shared by strangers are gone. I squeeze my way to the register to hand over my cash, watching the girls behind the counter, attempting to remember which one took my order, as they quickly take turns, spooning and measuring at the weighing scale, dividing up the spoils for the hungry sea of customers. Finally the girl with the high pony tail catches my eye, and with a nod of her head directs me to a relatively empty corner of the counter so she can hand over the goods. The cheery thanks I am about to give is halted by the tired, dull look in her eyes; instead I mumble a quick thanks, grabbing my slightly warm brown bag of chocolate chip cookies. I walk out back onto the sweltering plastic bag littered street, looking forward to finding a safe haven to enjoy the sweet bliss of melting chocolate and crumbling sugary flour; as I join the rest of the silent masses in a short reprieve, filling my breaking heart with temporary relief from emptiness, with sweet treats and empty notions of normalcy.

Refuge

2008-01-28T13:16:00.000+03:00

As Kenyans have been fleeing for their lives over the last month, many have sought refuge in Uganda. As they are now being moved into refugee camps deeper in the Ugandan interior in places like Tororo, the reports coming through are decidedly heartbreaking. The Ugandan residents of the area are complaining that the Kenyan refugees are busy misbehaving! According to a report on the BBC, inspection of the heavy jackets of some Kenyan teenage boys in the refugee camps revealed cigarettes and plastic bottles containing a strong local brew. Loosely reiterating what the Ugandan authorities said yesterday (not verbatim); ‘Prostitution has been banned, all smoking of Opium has been banned! Alcohol abuse and carousing has been banned!’ As my good friend Shem would say...My goodness! These reports bring to mind the devastating stories I have heard of child soldiers in Sudan and Sierra Leone...stories of children numbed of their pain; able to kill, hurt and maim, time and time again, fuelled by alcohol, illicit drugs and hate speech. There is no escape for the people from the results of violence and mayhem that the people have sought to run away from, these results are still there. The despair of those who have no hope has led them to further degradation, ruin and despair through empty pursuits. Even when we run away and are saved from certain death, we can remain hopeless even in relative safety. Our refuge does not come from the porosity of the borders of our neighbours and the goodwill of friendly states, our refuge must be in something more, for we cannot escape ourselves.

Psalm 91:2 'This I declare of the LORD: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I am trusting him.'
Psalm 119:114 'You are my refuge and my shield; your word is my only source of hope.'

Survival of the fittest

2008-01-25T10:15:00.000+03:00

Despite our best efforts to convince ourselves otherwise, we are not in control. Life, in all its complexity is not determined by the individual will and determination. Life is multifaceted in its complexity...interactivity between the individual the environment and community present a myriad of joys and problems as different and unique individuals interact with themselves and one another, plotting and progressing towards various ends.
Some would propose this end being the survival of the fittest (Darwin...satirically portrayed to your left). Personally I am persuaded we are much more then complex multi-celled species trying to off another in order to get more for ourselves. Hearing reports of Luo's hiding their Kikuyu neighbours in their homes for days to protect them from harm; of people vigilantly fasting and praying, day and night in churches; of the rich and poor alike giving generously and sacrificially to those in need....those are not the actions of primal instinct but point to a higher possibilities and purpose for man. So I ask myself, what motivates me?...to what end do I act? just for me, my ego, my comfort, or something more? ..even my Christianity, is it 'opium' to make me happy, providing for my every whim?..or can it be something more? Do my actions today reflect my purpose? Hhmm…

Proverbs 4:23 'Above all else, guard your heart, for it affects everything you do.'

Fresh Air

2008-01-25T09:12:00.000+03:00

Wow! We've been praying for something to happen...anything in fact, to bring an end to the impasse...After weeks of nothing but politicians and teargas, the despair and helplessness, I don't know if you're like me, but seeing Raila and Kibaki walk out of Harambee house smiling was a breath of fresh air! Watching the ins and outs of the game of politics has made me critically aware of the gift of leadership...and how much those who wield it influence the affairs of man. The fact that a whole nation, even those who do not want to admit it, is one way or another influenced by the decisions of these two people is to say the least disconcerting (let alone the impact on the region, and Africa as a whole). How I long for the time when Kenya will have a crop of leaders who lead to serve and serve as they lead.
Now the question many of us are asking is, what exactly is going to be put on the table as bargaining chips from both sides of this 'great political divide'?
Would give almost anything to be a fly on the wall in that conference room.

Proverbs 11:14 'Without wise leadership, a nation falls; with many counselors, there is safety.'

Wild Life

2008-01-23T09:43:00.000+03:00

Yesterday on Money Matters on NTV the head of KTB Dr. Achieng was talking about the tourism industry and reassured the public that that no tourist had been hurt so far, and that the Wildlife reserves and parks all had heightened security to protect these areas. Not that I have any problem with our government protecting the guests visiting us, or protecting our natural resources and tourism industry infrastructure, but it pointed to a glaring disparity...While our animals are tucked safe and sound in their hidey holes and grass beds, doors are broken as the police search for 'criminals at large', our women and children continue to be attacked and raped by marauding gangs and in some reported cases the very people who are meant to be protecting them, and our men are being brutally cut down by gangs, or shot by the police...so maybe the displaced or disenfranchised need to move into the national reserves, then at least all they have to contend with are lions...and my friend below....

Rebuilding the ancient ruins

2008-01-21T15:14:00.000+03:00

Isaiah 61:3-4 "To all who mourn in Israel, he will give beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair. For the Lord has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for his own glory. They will rebuild the ancient ruins, repairing cities long ago destroyed. They will revive them, though they have been empty for many generations."

Noise has been a haven for me...when the world as we know it changed on the 30th of December 2007, personal dreams and ambitions, political opinions, short and long term strategic plans were suddenly shattered when faced with the possibility that even when you have a Plan B and contingencies in place for 'that rainy day', the impossible can happen, the inconceivable can be conceived...our assumptions can be blown out of the water and replaced with a nightmarish reality which is not only hard to swallow, but makes us question if the reality we thought existed was really reality or a comfortable farce we embraced because the truth was too difficult and time/resource consuming to tackle (ethnocentrism, tribalism, poverty, institutional corruption) and we eventually replaced the truth with the lie for long enough so that we eventually forgot what is true and what is false.

So when people began to die, when homes were burnt, when crowds took to the streets....confusion reigned...So like an ostrich who's head is in the sand, I hid...but instead of the earth, I hid in noise; even as I could hear the loud incessant stomp! thump! thump! of rushing steps, hurtling towards me at frightening speed, I surround myself with news, and conversations, and accusations, and rumours...hoping that the breaking of my heart would stop, that metallic taste of fear in my mouth would abate, that the 'comfortable reality' would return and I could forget the nightmare. But today I realise even if I return to the lie, that is all it is, a lie, that is so easily shattered with just a voice ignored, a politicians word, a wave of a machete. So truth wins out, real reality must be faced...life must be rebuilt, but not on a foundation of lies anymore, real change can only result from real introspection followed by real action...maybe I can't change the world, but I know someone who can...now I continue the journey to discovering how I can partner with Him in rebuilding the ancient ruins.

ME TIME

2007-12-10T12:23:00.000+03:00

So that terms come to an end, all the term papers are done, exams sat and book reports handed in...about a week of straight up lounging has happened and the suprising thing is feeling sort of, well tired! Gave myself a pep talk at the beginning of the holiday, about how this time before I go back to volunteering at Chapel through the rest of the holiday, I would actuallly get some rest and catch up on all those things I don't get to do, like reading books I actually choose, and watching all those series that everyone talks about, catching up on some sleep, maybe getting some time outdoors etc. So when I was asked to house sit for my Vice Chancellor for a week, I jumped at the chance at having a place to myself, for some quality..."ME TIME", no papers, no 'serious' reading, no rushing around doing a hundred and one errands, just me and 'the lounge', after all I 'deserved' it!
Lounging is tiring, so far, have hardly gotten any sleep cause had to finish season one of "Ugly Betty' (not to mention 'Hustle' which was too interesting to space out), Hero's season two is now on, the novels I borrowed last week to read through the holiday were so interesting, that didnt sleep all last night and have finished two out of three so far, and in between all that, discovered I love to cook, so been trying out new recipes almost every day...so now I have a twitching eye from too much telly, my back hurts from unsuccessfully trying to read myself to sleep, my hands are peeling from all the kitchen theatrics, and generally kinda exhausted!
So now I think that maybe I took the wrong tack and maybe I need to learn balance, only problem is, how do you practice balance when you're so used to throwing yourself into everything you do?

Sayings

2007-12-10T11:47:00.000+03:00

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions (always wondered who they is ...a bunch of guys who sit around coming up with all sorts of sayings and cliches), well in that case, thank God I have Jesus, or I'd definately be DOOMED! Yes, my intention was to write every week....well, if only intentions actually did the work they were supposed to do...Thank God for time, that allows us to try again (and again ...and again) till we get it right.

They also say the grass is always greener on the other side....I remember thinking to myself when I was about 14 years old, how wonderful it would be to be all grown up and have my own time..to do...whatever! Sleep, eat what I want, go out, see things, talk to people, make my own money....all the wonderful things that adults seemed to be so busy doing. Alas! Now that I'm grown up, I realise...alot of its over rated! The sleep escapes you most nights, the food goes straight to your hips, everyone at the party is hoping this time it will reach their expectations and be as cool as its meant to be, and since your so busy trying to make the money you don't really have time to see the things you want to see or talk to the people you want to talk to without always playing catch up to the extent it always seems you're forever trying to get to know them...Okay, so maybe I'm being a little cynical, but thank God for time, that gift that provides the opportunity for different hues of grass on both sides of the fence, and the chance to experience a full life, with both blissful moments and the disappointments that make the bliss so much sweeter.

Ethnomusicality

2007-10-31T14:34:00.000+03:00

Yesterday during my Sociology of Language class we had a guest speaker who is an Ethnomusicologist (studies the use of music in cultures/society) working with SIL (a Christian organization that does translation work). What was most interesting about this class was the variety of music we listened to. The styles were so dynamic, everything from 'talking drums' from Malawi (which literarily speak.....I knew the drum beats gave a message, but to realize that whenever the drums were hit, it wasn’t just an amorphous message like "Come, its time to pray", or 'HELP!' but watched a video which showed that it is actually a detailed surrogate language, where words are differentiated according to the different tones of the drum which are adjusted according to the tightening of some ropes, so one man was drumming and another man was actually translating what the drummist was saying 'crusade style' giving specific instructions and messages like 'Praise God my soul....the Lord reigns from on high'...it was mind-blowing!), to tonal languages in Siberia where we listened to a song that had only one word which was sang at the end of the song, but the song mainly comprised of the sound of water running in a stream and a man making a type of water sound with his voice that fluctuated up and down forming different notes and tones, all this the people from that particular tribe can understand and interpret into the story of the song! Music, is a tool of communication, it speaks for a people, reflecting their culture, their beliefs, their heart, their essence.
Growing up listening to Mother Gooses songs, graduating to Cool and the Gang, Michael Jackson (remember 'Off the wall' ) all the way to being sucked into the Wonderful world of Rock sampling the likes of Aerosmith, through to U2....Music that embodied the culture and expression of my people did not exist for me, the most I heard of Kikuyu music was in matatus or family/community events like weddings and funerals, where in both, the style had a distinct 'western flavor' , such as Kikuyu Hymns which are actually English Hymns translated into Kikuyu, or just didn’t count considering 'werokamu!...wakinya....sitidowni!' ...is....well it has a lot of borrowed words. (..I never heard a Kikuyu traditional song at the Music festivals as a child..which I really didn’t participate in, expect to play the guitar!) Sitting there in class was just absolutely amazing, as I listened to a myriad of expressions of the soul and the hearts of a people, expressions that were different, actually quite weird sometimes, but authentic nonetheless...it just did not fit into my narrow experience. In fact the amazement I had slowly turned to a distinctly saddening feeling ...I found I was startled to discover that even with the advent of vernacular FM stations, the language(s) may be alive, but is the music dead? Though I am African, somehow I suddenly felt I was unethnic! Could this be true? Is that actually a possibility. Yes, I may not speak the language, but I still consider myself a Kikuyu, a Kenyan, an African, but what makes me these things apart from the color of my skin, my kinky hair, my name and the location of my house? Is that enough? Yes, culture is dynamic and changing, and we definitely can't (and don't want to) go back to cow hides and cowrie shells, but if music with its rhythms and tones, melodies and harmonies is a reflection of a part of ourselves, then have we lost a part of us?...do we care? And even if we do....considering many of us grew up in this New Africa, would a rediscovery of our past be a reclamation of our real self or just a neocolonialism of the New African by our education, desiring a connection to the tarnished 'glory' of the past, enslaving us to chasing a wind that can never be captured?

The BOOKS

2007-10-23T14:19:00.000+03:00

For some more serious news, I am still in my first year, slated to graduate in 2010, though will most likely finish class at the end of 2009 (there's only one graduation in July...by the way the pic is of my little reading cubicle in the library...its nice and private, which is a must for me because get easily distracted). This term I am taking Greek 1 (its suprisingly not that hard, just lots of cramming! our goal is to be able to comfortably read John and 1, 2, 3 John in Greek by the end July), Sociology of Language ( we have to do some group research for this class...we're hoping to research the practise of language switching amongst the presidential aspirants during the upcoming campaign...we'll mainly be carrying out our research via the media...but maybe we'll attend a rally or two...maybe not!). Also taking Hermeneutics (interpreting the bible, writing a Hermeneutical paper Habbakuk 3, just got my first paper back on narrative, studied 2 Samuel Kings 21...very interesting stuff...sometimes the bible is like a movie) and Homilectics (preaching class... yesterday presented a sermon in class on Putting God First from Haggai 1:1-6...talk about being nervous!..but people seemed to be feeling me...nodding there heads and saying Amen! I really love my classmates...they are soo encouraging even when you know your totally making a mess of things....and got some good advice afterwards too for the next time) and also Early and Medieval Church History...writing a paper on Augustine...not too sure which direction it should take, just starting out my research now...

Whenever you get a chance please pray for me, that I would handle my work with integrity, diligence and creativity.

A NEGST Mystery

2007-10-23T13:07:00.000+03:00

About two weeks ago was talking to my friend Wainaina, who is pretty interested in getting a bike too...now Wainaina's wife does not like that idea (she's not interested in having a bike hanging on the walls of her beautiful house...) so we were just chatting about alternative storage etc...then Wainana decides to confess that he was once tempted to 'borrow' my pink beauty on the first day I brought it to school, he had spotted it outside the classrooms and because it wasnt locked and he needed to dash across the quad to the library to get something he had forgotten, he seriously considered 'borrowing it'...but listened to the angel on his right shoulder and decided to walk instead.

After that discussion I began to lock the bike...So anyway I usually park my new baby right out front in the portico right outside the classrooms. Last week I parked it in the usual spot, locked it to prevent anyone from being tempted to take a joy ride (...imagine that! Ha! as if any pastor ...apart from Wainaina...would be caught dead on a pink bike!) then dashed off to class....After class as I was heading towards the library I noticed the lady who was cleaning the floors looked like she might need my bike moved, but she said it was okay where it was so I continued on with my day. Later as I headed back to class noticed my bike had moved to the opposite (left) side of the portico...figured the cleaning lady changed her mind, so I just ignored the move....later when leaving the classroom block again noticed the bike had moved position...the lock seemed to work...what was going on??!!! Rechecked the locks, everything was fine...so headed back to work....on passing by again later on in the day begun to think more seriously about this move and begun to work myself into a frenzy, checking constantly in between classes to make sure it wasnt moved again. By the end of the day had gotten slightly miffed...and everyone standing around had no idea about anything, in fact they all looked quite nonchalant....like they were thinking "Hello! we have more important things to do then guard your bike!" So as the day rolled to a close, I talked to a few more people...who knew nothing...then left...wondering if I was loosing it. URGHHHH! Recently have been having trouble sleeping so now begun to worry '....am I really that tired? did i really park it where I thought I had? Maybe I didnt...hhhmmm...' So over tea the next day was chatting with Wainaina again, telling him how tired I was, that I was worried I just may be close to some sort of breakdown...then he begins to laugh..and laugh...turns out he had moved the bike, and had been planning on moving it some more, and then planned on watching me getting all steamed/confused....There he really had me...the mystery of the moving bike was finally solved...OK so its not much of a mystery, and the joke was definately on me...but had a good laugh anyway...Funny!

PS: Since I started riding, been sleeping like a baby :)

Adventures in Pink!

2007-10-23T11:37:00.000+03:00

The trip to school has become much more fun with the acquisition of my new bike...The walk was always fun, but in a bid to get a bit more exercise...in fact a lot more exercise considering was getting absolutely none before I got the bike...thought this would help me along in that direction...not to mention it would reduce my commute time by half, which is good for some of us recovering chronic late comers (Hi! My name is Njeri and am a CLC).

So anyway about 4 months ago started saving in earnest and 3 weeks ago, gathered what I had and pooled my resources with Angela (my sister...who agreed to split the costs and now rides on the weekends) and got us the cutest pink bike.

Buying the bike was quite an adventure...went to Nakumatt, picked out the girlest i could find, then they spent around 20 minutes trying to get the proper pump...eventually the Nakumatt attendants brought me this shinny new bike for me to try out. Now have heard people say things like ...'its like riding a bike, you never forget' but for some reason when they presented the bike to me, I wasnt too sure about that. Ciku (aka baby sis) was with me, so tried to convince her to try it out, she adamantly refused...wondering why I had pulled her out of the comfortable pose she was lounging in at home, dragged her to Nakumatt to buy a bike, then refused to test it. So here we were arguing back and forth over who should try the bike, with Nakumatt chaps looking on, watching like us a tennis match.

Eventually realised my silliness and plucked up my courage and managed to haul myself over the bike and arrange myself pecariously on the seat, with the Nakumatt attendant helping me out holding the bike in place. Eventually after a few false starts he started me off...note the bikes at Nakumatt in Karen are parked right beside the glassware and crockery...so I gingerly set off....and wobbled, wobbled....wobbled for about 1/2 a meter! Disaster! but figured, we had been there for about an hour, the Nakumatt chaps had done so much work getting the bike ready...I couldnt turn back now..I had to take the bike. So dusted off my thoroughly worn pride and bit the bullet.

So the next day got on the bike, scared out of my wits and wobbled off..around the round about outside our home, once, twice...Yipee! I'm not dead yet! and wobbled off down the road....making it to school ....very sweaty, shaky but in one piece.

Been riding for 3 weeks now...still alive, less wobbly and alot less sweaty...Praise God for lifes little adventures...learning new things everyday, this months lesson...Risk or Rust!

Philippians 3:12-16 (NLT)
I don't mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection! But I keep working toward that day when I will finally be all that Christ Jesus saved me for and wants me to be. No, dear brothers and sisters, I am still not all I should be, but I am focusing all my energies on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven. I hope all of you who are mature Christians will agree on these things. If you disagree on some point, I believe God will make it plain to you. But we must be sure to obey the truth we have learned already.

Fun at Seminary

2007-10-19T02:31:00.000+03:00

Is it strange that I think I am actually having fun at Seminary.....is that actually possible? or is my version of fun...not.....
I often wonder if I am enjoying myself too much...and what does that make me?..a hoax? am I somehow being unauthentic...to the "real me". For example would it be considered fun to discuss the existence of diglossia* in Kenya for 2 hours (out of class, over coffee, wrestling with questions like 'does it exist here in Kenya....1 hour .....is sheng a language? hour 2) and leave thinking "that was so interesting...can't wait for tomorrows class!...Yey!"
The reason I wonder about this is that this is from the same person who just three years ago, around this time of year would be sitting planning "Exactly how much tummy should I show in my television show in order to keep my male audience watching, while not scaring off 'serious' advertisers...hhmm is my tummy as flat as my competition? Its okay she's got buckteeth..teeheehee, oooh I wonder if we're getting comps to the new club thats openning tonight???"
This thing I now call my life is sometimes so shockingly different, I wonder 'did time slow down over the last 3 years, giving me time to change my character, my priorities, my dreams, ambitions, friendships....somehow....all in the span of 36 months?...or is the real me on sabbatical about to rear her not so ugly head again when I least expect it?' Is change, lasting change, just a matter of decision..then..it happens. Or is it more complex? does change just happen like that...dorothy clicking her heels twice and wishing really hard, then in a twinkling she's somewhere else? Is this new me home? or am I just visiting? Is Njeri, the real Njeri the person she wants to be or the person she is? If what I want to be is what I present to everyone, is that really me, or a cover version?....(on that note is a cover version of a song still the same song? or is it something else? Or when they remade Oceans 11, is it still Oceans 11, or does the presence of Brad Pitt and George Clooney somehow make it Oceans 11.1?)
Then where is God in all this? Am I a NEW CREATION VERSION 1, batch 2003.19.10 with extra Christianese personality plug ins, or is my personality, the character that is me (SHAPE and all) allow for some original Njeri to stay without tainting the "NEW CREATION NJERI VERSION 1.1? Do we have to lose ourselves to find ourselves? or am I thinking too much about this, and should I just be.....as they say?

Today is my 3rd birthday as a believer (or rather the day I adopted to commerate the beginning of this journey 3 years ago), on this adventure, self discovery has been transformed to self reclamation. Its availability to God's renovation. A reclamation of the original image, that which I was intended to be, discovered from the prototype.

*Diglossia as I understand it is two versions of one language that exist, used for different functions (eg the formal version for education, the nonformal one in the home...on that note just had a test on this Sociology of Language stuff....the test was not so fun..).