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My preacher and me; a daily dose of faith.

21 Aug

I normally arrive home around 10pm; with normally, I want to say, most of the times. The distance between my work station and my home/ rented house is about a kilometer.  Enough walking distance to re-adjust to a normal a human being;- what we do at work especially those of us in public service is definitely not normal. – Smiling to everybody while at the same time trying your best to extort money from them is not normal. -Lying to your boss; to avoid being lectured on how money doesn’t grow on tree and why you should not expect to get rich if you can’t even meet his target is certainly not normal. -The only thing that is probably normal is my commission at the end of the day. It is always short of how much I wanted.

I have walked every inch of this one kilometer road over the past six yrs. It has become my communion path. A path that has led me to heaven and at the same time to hell; I’ve walked this road wondering what happened to God and why He has forgotten that he created me. And on the same road, I have walked thanking God that even though I have sinned and fallen short of His Glory, He still loves me and protects me from, hunger, diseases, muggers, accidents and countless bad omens that befall people every day.

After getting home, I have to go through the same routine every single day; walk in the house, my wife is standing by the door because she has just opened it; I might get a kiss or not depending on moods. I see the three seater sofa set and imagine myself stretched there; but imagination just ends there, going anywhere near that seat is not allowed in this house.{ I wonder what been sat-on means if this is not it.} The consequences of what happens if I’m allowed to sit down before taking a shower have a history between these four walls and also a source of a number of arguments. .!!! So, to avoid unnecessary fights, I go straight to the bathroom as the host goes to the kitchen to warm the food. By the time I get to sit on the sofa, to a cup of hot coffee, it is 10:30 and Joyce Meyer is on TV

My wife is one of her biggest fans-{follower;- I guess is the correct word ;} I once tried to compare Joyce Meyer with Oprah but she told me that the two are world apart and have nothing in common. Oprah is a queen with fans while Joyce is a servant following Jesus. This mother of my children also believes that she too like Joyce Mayer is a servant;{ although sometimes I see her as the master, especially when I’ve been out parting with friends and won’t go to church with her and the kids  because of hang-over’s.} Since this happens like almost every Saturday, Joyce Meyer becomes our only moment when we sit together and listen to a preacher. It has become part of our everyday life such that, my wife will automatically know something is not right if the preacher is on TV and I haven’t arrived home.  “Honey, where are you? Your preacher is on.”

That is how important this one preacher has become part of my every day’s life. Thirty precious minutes of gospel truth every week day cupped with a plate of food and a cup of coffee. By the time she is through with her sermon, She leaves me feeling so guilty and needing to repent for the way I sometimes relate and handle others, especially at work. I cannot recall the number of times I’ve gone to bed a completely new born again Christian; only to wake up in the morning; curse the government for traffic jams, curse the police for sleeping on their jobs and curse anybody who cuts in front of me. I guess I have not made it to the spotless Christians list but I’m still working on it.

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6 Comments

Posted by on August 21, 2012 in Its life

 

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6 responses to “My preacher and me; a daily dose of faith.

  1. Sean Marston

    August 21, 2012 at 9:22 pm

    Thanks for the refeshing, insightful and often funny way that you write. It was a great start to my day (in New Zealand). Thankfully God loves all of us ratbags and there is nothing we can do to deserve that love

     
    • kariuki James

      August 26, 2012 at 9:46 am

      It is my gift to you; and the world. It feels good to know somebody is reading what I’m happy to write. Thanks Sean;

       
  2. Poline Bizzy

    August 23, 2012 at 1:55 pm

    Nice one, the truth is God loves us just the way we are and he knows our faults and shortcomings every day. God have mercy

     
  3. Leonard (Baltimore, MD)

    August 28, 2012 at 2:11 am

    I rode on a lot of matatus when I was in Kenya. Your story offers a totally different perspective on what it means to be a matatu driver. Riding matatus was fun for me because I loved hearing load and bassy reggae and hip hop while in Nairobi.

    Keep writing brother! It is one of the most therapeutic forms of self expression there is. And you’re a good writer too!

    Peace

     
  4. Mohamed Shidane

    August 28, 2012 at 3:37 pm

    Thanks James. a great piece. Reminds of the kenyan Novals i read growing up and as a school boy.

     
  5. Winnie V. Mitullah

    July 8, 2013 at 5:28 am

    This is a great discussion and should be a `Must’ read’ for government officials. Keep the discussions going as we continue to research on the mentioned issues in order to feed into the discussions and interventions.

     

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