WordToday

At the turn of the year,  our popular comedian, Churchill  ‘partnered’ with the equally popular songbird Christina Shusho, to deliver what was to be an epic cross-over combo of comedy and music. I was a little confused when he started the show with a barrage of popular ‘prophetic’ pronouncements.  Like a proper Kenyan, I dutifully (sic) received mine. It went something like this; “This is the year of your double portion!” And just like that, I received my first false prophecy of 2024. The scriptures have several guardrails around prophecies. First, because those who proclaim them often invoke the Name of God. And God doesn’t like to be misrepresented. Secondly, people generally take prophecies seriously and shape their lives around what has been spoken. Thirdly, there can be at least three sources of revelatory words: The Holy Spirit of God (2 Peter 1:21) The human mind (Jeremiah 14:14*) Evil spirits (Acts 16:16-18, 1 John 4:1) Therefore, it is impor...

At the turn of every year, we have a long-standing family tradition of sitting down to flip through T.V. channels. We watch various ministers and performers with different groups of people ushering in the new year in style (with my wife- the children now prefer to be outside blasting those darn fireworks) . However, even after years of midnight sofa-slouching, I still can’t decide who between the ministers and the performers say the most outrageous things. For some reason, the moment seems to turn every charismatic minister worth his salt into some kind of prophet. Pastors, evangelists, apostles, and even the odd comedian feel compelled to utter a 'word' or two for the new year. Often, t hese 'prophetic moments' are highly charged interludes with MOGs & WOGs (Men & Women Of God) giving 'ecstatic utterance' as their listeners rapturously respond with 'Amen!' and ‘I receive!’ This is all good and okay. The problem, however, is that these pr...

1818 hrs: I got home in a rush. I was determined to make the most of the evening. It had been nearly two weeks since my last run. I couldn’t miss this one again. Casting off my work clothes, I hurriedly donned my running gear. In no time I was off to a brisk start, anxious to finish before darkness set in.  It had rained all week except the previous night. That was a good sign. The trails would neither be muddy nor dusty—a perfect evening for jogging.  The shorter, less adventurous routes would do for the day.   Make level paths for your feet and take only ways that are firm. (Prov.4:26) 2km:  My legs signaled their first complaint. I was feeling heavier than usual. My breathing was getting more and more labored. I hadn't gained weight. I don’t gain weight. Or had I? "Must be the two inert weeks" I mumbled under my breath. As I turned a corner, a bodaboda (motorbike taxi) guy came into view. He waved vigorously and shouted, "mkimbizi!" (runner!). I was n...

Similarly, if anyone competes as an athlete, he does not receive the victor's crown unless he competes according to the rules. (2Tim.2:5) It was meant to be the mother of all trail runs. I was going to test my resilience in the Adidas Berlin virtual run. I don't want to call it 'physical resilience' . I have discovered that running, especially on fourty year-old legs, is more than just a physical experience. My friend Wachira, who runs in all sorts of places, with all manner of running groups and to all sorts of distances once told me, "Man, it’s all in the mind" . I admire his grit. Since that time, I have pondered this important issue. Of course, it only comes up when I'm at the tired end of my tether-plodding up a trail and regretting why I got myself there in the first place! Say, friend, is it truly a matter of training the mind to ignore the aches and pains of tired limbs? Or is it a matter of 'ugali' powering the legs through the turns ...

After many days of lethargy, self-excuses, and downright bad behaviour , I returned to the road. Ok, it wasn't a road in the real sense of the word but rather a series of grassy paths and dusty trails peppered with rocky inclines.  I like the challenge of off-road running 🏃‍♂️ . It makes me feel like Rambo. Do you know Rambo? Of course, you don't, you millennial.  Well, Rambo was our action-hero. A grotesquely muscular man with dark, curly hair. His hair though, was a little too long for a man. Anyway, he would stalk, strategize, and then blast his enemies into oblivion with huge guns. Later in life, I realized that he was probably a product of American propaganda against their perceived geopolitical threats, mostly the Russians. Rambo was always sweating, and I noted with a certain level of satisfaction that I too was sweating. There was no jungle that Rambo couldn't conquer and running in the less-trodden paths makes me feel like Rambo.  I like to run in familiar p...

It was meant to be a time of quiet reflection. I was standing alone at the edge of a large field. Straddling my bicycle contemplatively, I savoured the delicious beauty of the setting sun. I thanked God that no matter where I had lived, He had always found me such places. Places where I could see the sunset, alone. There was no wind. The clouds hang low. Above them was a vast, clear expanse. Bathed in the dying embers the clouds bore the moment with elegant grace. They sailed aloft ever so gently. S himmering in amber, orange and a touch of grey, t hey looked like they could fall. Of course, they were not going to fall. Some unseen power seemed to be holding them in place. Was it God or physics? Surely it had to be God. How could such art be the work of blind nature? So beautiful. God had to be an artist! 7.10 p.m. The emerging stars eased me out of my reverie. Wife had said not to ride in the dark. I was in familiar territory so I was confident that I could find my way home. However, ...