If I was a Bible character, I’d probably be a pre-Red Sea Moses. Oh, that’s too far. I’d be the Moses at the burning bush. The one who gave God all the reasons why he was the wrong guy for the job. Moses did such a perfect job talking God down that the big guy got him a mouthpiece.
I relate to that story like the guys in Kondele relate to the riots in Minneapolis. The Kondele peeps may seem calm, but deep down they want to be chanting “Haki Yetu” down East 38th Street in Powderhorn Park.
When I was in High School, I was in the Music club. I know guys, don’t be so shocked, I can sing. I may not ‘East Africa Got Talent’ good, but I know my notes and pitch.
One time, during the festivals, I was doing a solo, a duet and the other one where the choirmaster sets the pitch with a melodica you all sing in unison. I don’t remember what it was called, but it’s not a choir.
We did the not-a-choir piece and lost at the provincials. My partner and I did the duet and won — we went to the Nationals. My Solo piece was really good, you could bet your family heirloom that I was bagging this as well.
I watched the others before me perform their solo pieces and they were also really good. Suddenly, this nimbus cloud gathered in my thoughts and it started raining hailstones on my vocal cords.
I felt like an ant in an elephants path, I knew I’d be vanquished. By the time they called my name, I was at point Nemo — I couldn’t be accessed even if they tried. I’d have killed that solo like I killed the duet. But we’ll never know. I talked myself down and eventually, I talked myself out.
I have a foot-long list of reasons why I’m not fit for much. I have even severally talked myself out of blog posts. I write it, read it and then sit on the high chambers and ask myself, “what makes you think you have something to tell people?”
In the recent past, I have received calls and messages from readers across the region, telling me how a post they read changed their life. Or that they identify with my situation, messed as it oftentimes is. I have read these with wide-eyed, arched eyebrows shock.
I’d made a really terrible accountant because I hate numbers. I cannot sit in an office and have a calculator as my trusted companion. I’m still trying to find the use of integers in my life.
I’d make a worse air-traffic controller. My sense of direction is just as good as a bat’s eyesight. I tried teaching, and I must say teachers need grace in bucket-loads.
I have actually tried several things in this life — business, teaching, procurement officer. Once, I was a quack nurse aid in a village in North Eastern Kenya. I was a missionary there when the designated nurse had to take a quick furlough. I prayed so hard that no one would need my services when she was away.
I had not even said my amen when a man brought his wife who had given birth the previous day and now her body was swollen. I panicked, my brain was hyperventilating, yet I looked all calm on the outside. I made a quick call to a ‘Colleague’ in the profession and then described something.
She left, very grateful. She had not exited the gate when a mama appeared with an infant with a fever so high he was competing with the sun. I treated him as well, all this time silently wishing there was a river Jordan where I could just send them to dip themselves.
After a couple of hours, I met the man whose wife I had treated. If he had a prized Arabian Horse, he would have given it to me. His wife was ok! I also found the child with a fever, he was cooler than a polar bear’s nose and playing. We all know that it wasn’t the medicine, it was the prayers I made after the patients left my ‘office’.
Apart from medical things, I absolutely love cooking and writing. I make mean chapos in an hour and with glee. As a result, I love hosting people and cooking for them. Hospitality is a service to God.
I get excited when there’s a blank page in front of me. I mull over the best way to write a sentence, often rewriting it several times. I see stories everywhere. I’m able to make 1000 words out of a 5km jog.
My bio here says that I see beyond the visible. He has granted me a creative mind that I can use to make things clearer and even a little deeper. Sometimes, funnier. The Lord has made me that way.
Ephesians 2:10 “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” NLT
You are a masterpiece.
You are God’s outstanding artistry. Yes, you, with all your flaws, real and imagined. The qualities that make you, you, God designed them that way for the benefit of mankind and for his worship.
Are you really good at negotiating and you’re the kind that can sell fire to the devil? Or maybe you’re really gregarious and you strike friendship in a second. You may be the pedant type, annoying everyone around you with the minutest of details. Hello, accountants! (Pssst! It’s June, befriend an accountant, they’ll file your returns.)
God made you the way you are for a special purpose. Only you can do what you can do the way you can do it. Do not talk yourself out of your God-ordained purpose.
And I’m not referring to ‘ministry’ or working in a Christian set-up. In your current life, job, social set-up — the normal, ‘boring’ everyday life is a chance for you to glorify God with your personality.
You are both a masterpiece and a work in progress.
Get over feeling like the world is one big square hole and you are a round peg. I’m the last person who should be having a Christian (ish), motivational (ish) blog. I have made a gazillion mistakes in this life. I have talked myself out of situations only to see God in them eventually.
What do you feel would be your effortless contribution to the world? Wake up, smile for the mirror and grab your tools of trade.
I’m opening another black page.