Disbelieving faith?

This is going to be short....I still don't know how to title it yet. Hopefully a title will come to mind by the time I'm done writing.
So I was just listening (yes, listening) to the book of Acts as I worked (multitasking is my thing ;P ) Acts 12 caught my attention. That's the chapter where King Herod Agrippa began to persecute believers in Christ....So our very own Peter was caught and thrown in prison...
Acts 12:5 says "But while Peter was in prison, the church prayed very earnestly for him."
I am certain they were praying for his release...
Now, let's jump to verse 15...
What was the reaction of the people who were earnestly praying for Peter's release when Rhoda opened the door, saw Peter, closed it in his face and excitedly ran back to tell the church that their prayer had been answered?

"You're out of your mind!"

They concluded she was crazy.
Now, Rhoda knew what she'd seen and she wasn't going to be convinced that she was crazy (some people can make you doubt what you know to be true and I believe the church could have easily had some of us...)
Anyways, so Rhoda wasn't going to have her mind toyed with so she insisted. And what was the church's reaction to her insistence?
Rhoda was no longer out of her mind. They now believed...but,
"It must be his [Peter's] angel"
Now, I don't know if that meant they assumed Peter dead and had taken the form of an angel...All I know is, they were certain it was not Peter in the human form standing at the door....and this is what got me.
How many times have I not been like the church which was earnestly praying for Peter?
How many times have I not earnestly prayed to God on a subject, have Him answer me and then express profound surprise at the result I'd been praying for? It's not as if I do not have the faith required to see my prayer answered.
It is more like surprise at having God answer a faith based prayer. Sometimes, it's got to do with the speed with which God answers. Other times, it's as if I was just praying out of duty and was not expecting God to answer (which is is not the case) in the way in which He did answer.
Anyways, got to go back to work.
Just some running commentary on what was going through my ears :) ... and a good way to update my blog :)

Sobering Reminder

I don't know why I feel like it's morally wrong to be posting part 5 of the story seeing as we're in a state of mourning here in Ghana. Mourning the lives of scores of people who began the week having not the faintest idea they were going to end up not just dead, but burnt beyond recognition....
This is a reminder to me that this life we live is but a vapor. Here today, gone tomorrow.....
A reminder to live each day as if it were my last. A reminder to not hold grudges. A reminder to not keep putting off what I know needs to be done because a time will come when my maker will call me home....And I might end up in the wrong home if I lose sight of the fact that home could be eternal life or eternal damnation....sobering but important reminder these few days have been.
Even as those of us who count ourselves lucky go on and on about how God saved and delivered us from the floods or whatever form of death could have had us mute by now, I find myself asking myself this - Are we implying by our gratitude for life that those who died did something wrong? And what about those of them who have been called to eternal life? Why do we always look at death from the lens of negativity?...It's a question I've asked myself many times. I guess I'm rambling now. I'll just end it here... 

Every disadvantage has an advantage...or so they say..

Ok, so sometime last week, I saw an email from the Commonwealth writers in my inbox and my heartbeat rate quadrupled. I knew it had something to do with the short story I'd entered into their 2015 competition. I wasn't really expecting to go far when I entered it, but I was still bummed to see the words "We regret that your story has not been successful on this occasion..."
Anyways, I've been thinking, and I think I'm going to self publish that particular short story. That might just be what will get me to get started on the sequel seeing as I've not written a single sentence since I entered the story in November last year....To whet your appetites, I'm going to post the first few paragraphs (or more appropriately, pages) as my next post to see if anyone will be interested enough to want to read on.
I'm really hoping everyone reading will be excited enough to buy the book when I share the link....No worries, it will be very affordable ;)
Oh, and please note this is a totally random post. I had no plans to put up a post today neither did I have any plans to share part of the story when I started this post. That idea popped up as I typed :D
Let's pray I don't change my mind!

on being nappy haired

A few days ago, I walked into a certain high commission's offices to submit a visa application. The receptionist took my passport, looked at my data page, raised her head up to look me in the face and this (to the best of my recollection) was what ensued:

Receptionist (R): Is that your own hair? (pointing to my picture in the passport)
Me: Yes
R: Are you sure?
Me: Yes.
R: You looked nicer like this (pointing to my picture in the passport) than now.
I must say at this point that now was me in a natural haired pony.
I only smiled and willed her to go on with the reason why I was standing in front of her. She got the hint and got on with her job - which was to review my documents ( why does that have to be the job of the receptionist though?) but it seemed like my present looks were haunting her and she couldn't hold it in any more. So the dialogue restarted.

R: I'm sure other people have told you same.
Me: Told me what?
R: That you looked nicer with your hair like this ( referring to picture in passport)
Me: No, no one has. ( I still managed to have a genuine smile on my face)
R: Why? Have you gone to join some church? (implying that I was wearing my hair in it's natural state as a result of religious compulsion)
Me: No I haven't.

This was when she resolved to get back to her work.
When all was said and done, she handed my documents back to me and repeated something along the lines of
"You looked nicer with your hair permed"
I replied "I wish I had the time to show you all the pictures of  me in my natural hair for you to decide yourself", thanked her and walked away.

The  week before this encounter, I had another natural hair dilemma. I was to be a bridesmaid for a very dear friend. When she told me that she wanted us (the bridesmaids) to wear a certain kind of hair weave, I told her NOTHING was going to make me wear a weave and that I intend to wear my hair natural. She accepted my decision. My interaction with one of the other bridesmaids however confirmed my suspicion - that they were all worried I was going to "spoil" the day with my hair. No,  she didn't say this in plain words but she was making snide remarks like "Madam NATURAL Hair" "So what are we going to do to our NATURAL Hair for the wedding?"

All this just made me ask myself - when are we going to accept ourselves as we were made? I have said it and I'll say it again, that  I have no issues with perming one's hair or wearing weaves. I wore my hair in perms for 5 years and I've worn weaves a few times and will wear if I FEEL LIKE wearing. That means I'm not a natural hair nazi. But when I have permed hair and weave nazis acting all superior, then I feel like tutoring them on self acceptance. I do not need straight hair to look and feel beautiful!!!!
In fact, I'm going to attach a picture of me in my natural hair to this post :p ...make that 2!

Anyone who thinks I'm not beautiful enough wearing my  natural hair can go burn the Atlantic for all I care :p

Devoted things...

I know anyone who's looking forward to a post from me will be expecting me to finish "Bill's Story" and get it done and over with...sorry to disappoint.
Sometime in December last year, I was having my quiet time and I decided to share my journal post for that day. After typing it up, I changed my mind. I just came across it this morning and I feel like sharing it so here goes :)

This post is me sharing my quiet time. I’m using the 2014 Our Daily Bread. I  was reading today’s Bible reading which was taken from Joshua 7:1-13 and before I got to the end of the reading, I knew I had to share my thoughts on it.

As I read, I asked myself, “what are the devoted things?” since they are what caused the Lord to be very angry with the Israelites. I didn’t really stop to research around what they consisted of, but when I got to  verse 4, a light bulb went off in my head, and I started to relate some things in my life as being equal to taking stuff which should have been devoted to God and turning around just like the Israelites did when things went wrong as a result of this to ask God “why?”.

 How many times have we not as Christians gone before God to ask him “Why?” just like Joshua did? He went before God, and asked him “Why?”.  I mean, God is sovereign. He knows everything and Joshua just didn’t get it! Why will this sovereign God allow his people to be defeated and to run away from their enemies? I cannot even begin to recount the number of times I’ve asked God “Why?” questions. My journal will be a testimony to that fact...but reading this today, I realised that just like the Israelites, I took stuff I should have devoted to God, made them mine and when things weren’t going as planned, I began to question God.

Sin is not only about the big things. Sin also consists of me refusing to completely hand over the reins to God. Choosing what I devote to him and what I do all by myself without his involvement....and choosing to bring him in later.

God’s reply to Joshua is so telling! He said they have devoted themselves to destruction! I don’t know if it was a play on words, but it’s poignant to note that taking God’s devoted things amounts to devoting myself for destruction. When instead of devoting my time to loving my Heavenly Father, I devote it to pleasing myself, I am devoting myself for destruction. I know it sounds so basic, but there is so much truth behind those words. The solution was for the Israelites to take away the devoted things from amongst them. God said they could not face their enemies until they did that. Father, my prayer is for your Holy Spirit to open my eyes to the things in my life that make it impossible for me to face the enemy so that I can take them away.

Forgiveness

This is an apology from the depths of my heart to everyone who's been waiting on me to finish Bill's Story.

Life got busy as usual. But in the midst of it all, I managed to convince myself to enter a story into a short story competition which closes tomorrow!

As I type, I'm yet to enter the story I've spent time writing over the last few weeks. The logical side of me is telling me there's no way I'll so much as get shortlisted. But there's this "you never know" side which is what is going to get me to upload that story and hit the enter button.

I let in on this because I know it'll help in the forgiveness process.

I sign out of this post knowing I've been forgiven.

Thanks Guys :)

Bill's Story 7.5

Let's call this "Bill's Story 7.5, not 8 as it is shorter than usual. I figured posting whatever I have written is better than waiting for it to get longer. I hope I wasn't wrong.

And pleaaaasssse I want feedback! I need to know if I'm boring you to death or not. I don't want niceties...just facts and constructive criticism. I know you're reading cos I check my hits :)

“What do you mean by “knowing Berth”?

“Oh, she was my roommate back in uni.”

I looked at her with disbelief, wondering whether or not to believe her. She had this look on her face. It was halfway between mischief and excitement. Before I could find the right words to express my surprise, she went on,

“I’d always pictured the woman you intended to marry as a church girl. But no, I was wrong!” Who would have thought Berth would make the cut for you who thinks kissing someone who’s not your girlfriend is a crime?”

“What are you going on about Amy? You’re not making sense to me.” My understanding of her words was that Berth had a side I didn’t know about.

She rolled her eyes and only said, “Bill, not wanting to believe what you’re hearing is not the same as not understanding it.”

“Ok, so are you saying that my Berth has a side I don’t know about?”

She only clapped and gave me a thumbs up. I was curious to know what more she had to say, but I only heard myself say,

“We’ve all got history. What’s more important is what we are now - the present. Now, do you want me to finish that massage or what?” I didn’t know why, but I was beginning to get angry. I sat on the bed, and not being one to give up, she placed her feet on me and said, “Yes please. I need it.”

I continued from where I left off in silence, thinking about whatever it was Berth had in her history books.

“Look Bill,” she broke the silence. “I’m not saying Berth has done anything in particular. For all I know, she’s born again.”

“What at all did she do that makes you sound like she is not the same person you knew? How long have you known me to even be in a position to be judging me and my girlfriend?” I pushed her legs off me and got up so I could glare down at her as I asked.

Her mouth dropped open at my outburst.

“How did I judge you?”

“You judged me by assuming my Berth has a past I know nothing about.”

“But you were the same person who said we’ve all got history a few minutes ago, Bill.”

“And how does that prove that I don’t know about whatever it is that Berth has done in the past?” I countered.

“Bill dear,” she got up, walked to me, cupped my face in her palms and continued, “You know deep down that you want to know what I know about Berth. The truth hurts. Are you really ready to know?”

I pushed her hands off my face “I asked what makes you think I do not know whatever it is that you know about her? I didn’t ask you to tell me anything.” I felt I had to stand up for my woman.

“I do not think Bill, I know that you do not know. You wouldn’t be with her if you did.”

She found her shoes, angrily wore them, reached for her bag and without a backward glance at me, stepped out. I was fuming at this point.

I reached for my phone and called Kwadwo. His groggy voice reminded me I was 5 hours behind Ghana.

“Sorry for disturbing your sleep, but we need to talk.”

"What is it mate?" I mentally pictured him sitting up as he sensed the urgency in my voice.