namwano

“It is one thing to win, it is another thing to win as the real you”. This is my theory of the real me; The real me is not an end, it is who I am now and everyday. The real me is growing; the real me is becoming. And in order to become it, it may take time. In that time it will require, on my part, a resolve to stay committed to the process , hard work that requires sacrifice , and belief that sustains in the seasons when the best version of myself feels like a fallacy. The real me is and will continue to be challenged. My frailty will be inflated, my fear magnified and on several occurrences, I will be greatly mortified. Because I know how deep the cracks of my enmeshed brokenness run and I remain uncertain of the genuineness or fake state of my circle. And by the time I make peace with the reality that ‘This is Me’, I may have lost a couple of things, and sometimes people. Nevertheless, the real me will make good of the wholeness that is crafted by th

It is not the easiest thing to feel like a royal priesthood every day. It is easier actually, if you ask me, to feel like the Israelites. A bunch of fearful, traumatized individuals walking through high walls of waves with the possibility of death any time. This pandemic has served a cocktail of sturdy and fragile days. Sometimes I feel like Peter, the confident Christ follower who knows Jesus on levels deeper than the seas; levels where flesh and blood do not reveal some intricate mysteries. On other days, I feel like Peter the traitor. If asked to defend Jesus, I’ll outrightly betray him. Because standing up for Him would mean losing myself, yet I like this version of me, and I am not ready to let go. On a daring day I may go all Delilah on you, and go about life hiding my truth until an encounter with Jesus at the well leaves me questioning why a Holy God would still see past the flaws of a thirsty soul. So much so, He would have an in-depth conversation with me, an

“How are you?” For those who may attempt to be courageous and compassionate enough to ask this good question, allow me to give you fair warning, you may want to brace yourself to carry a burden. The answers from the people you ask may include the following,  “I am tired…” “I am sad….” “I am angry at God …” “I am giving up…” “I am worried…” “I feel hopeless…” “I feel alone… “ “I feel like I am losing my mind …” A lot is going on at the moment. And while it is easy to push each other to praise despite our feelings, as I did in my previous blog, I am aware of the reality that sometimes good words spoken in tough times can be more toxic than healing. We may expect people to brave out this pandemic and quite a number may be. However, while hope is said to be a working strategy, on the day when the crack hits bottom, breaking is a strategy too. “How are you?” We ask this question pretty flippantly these days, with an expected “I’m fine”, or “

He was not the easiest to lose sight of in the crowd. His height easily betrayed him. He didn’t seem to care much about the attention though, because well, you don’t get to negotiate things like height with God before you escape the womb. I met him in church. He looked pretty young and while in one of those “let-us-meet-behind-the-tent-after-the-service” meetings it was evident he had wit. Our conversations were majorly brief and for an introvert like me, shallow waters are not my thing. I love to dive deep, wade in troubled waters to get to the heart of personalities and expressions. But he was too rigid to break through, and unless I really value you, I won’t lay in wait on your walls. If I can’t peel, I’ll deal. And that is fine with me.  He would make himself comfortable in the back left row, strolling in a few minutes just before the service began, making his silent petitions while awaiting the service to begin. You see the beauty of being a church instrument

I have known compassion and kindness. I have known moments of great joy and enjoyed the company of folks I never thought I would be synonymous with. I know what it means to celebrate others and to be celebrated too. I have enjoyed the sweet fruits of authenticity and unraveled the worlds of some people thought to be too complicated to ever understand. Nonetheless I have had occasions where I was forced to swallow the bitter pill of betrayal.  I have known degrees of pain that come from disloyalty; shades of emotions that collide, fuse, magnify and finally explode when coming to the end of myself. They are familiar to the human kind as there is nothing new under the sun- nothing that is not common to man; but to me, they were unique for this particular time and season, for maturity’s sake. And then I know what it means to take the residue of your investment of time, care, energy and love and walk away. I reiterate the sentiments of A.G. who wrote, “I am learning to love t