Chasing your dreams: The space in between.

As you may have noticed I have not written for this series in a while. The spaces in-between inspiration to write is filled with the everyday voracious survival tasks.

And so like a soul survivor in a treacherous land I am reminded of the spaces in between. The spaces between the inception of the dream and the fulfillment of that dream are sometimes many and sometimes long but we must survive them. The spaces in between are also the times between revelation of different aspects of the dream like a much needed encouragement/confirmation, the appearance of a divine connection or the sudden realization of what is needed for your next future move. The space in between are many and in between (no pun intended)

The spaces in between are where most of us spend our lives. They are those pleasant platues filled with the sweet fragrance of everyday living that slowly lull us into a cycle of wants and needs. There are like the mirage in the sun scorched desert, a hope that our parched throats will soon be sated. They are ever present but always far. And so we keep walking.

Like the mists of an English bog, they cover the pitfalls and paths, obscuring our way forward and our way back and so we wonder aimlessly constantly aware of the danger that lurks in the murky depths.

And so we walk hunched over, watching the ground in constant fear of falling into poverty, our dreams lost to sight and our consternation growing and growing and our journey seemingly endless. For a person of faith, it’s not the brutal onslaught of the Devils blows but the subtle espionage of a weary soul that will get you.

I have to constantly remind myself what this dream is, what it is for and why it was given to me. I also have to remind myself of the one who gave me this dream and the promises He gave and continues to give.

I must also prepare. I love the story of the building of the temple. David had a dream to build a house for God but Solomon was the one appointed to build it. But David prepared. He was not allowed to build it but he saw nothing wrong in preparing for it. In Isaiah, we are encouraged to “enlarge the place of your tents”; Elijah was sent to prepare the way for the messiah. The reference goes on and on.

And so I prepare, my heart, my mind, my spirit, my hands and my substance (home/house, equip etc.) for the time when the dream comes to fruition. In my case I have seen the dream unfold like a parchment, and for each page, each chapter I must be ready.

So my dear friend, as we seek out the dreams God has placed in our hearts, use wisely the spaces in between. 

Flags of our fathers: Unclaimed Baggage.

We are the sum of our experiences. My earliest vivid childhood memories are of my parents separations and the premonition filled dreams I had before. It’s a dream that recurred over and over in varying degree throughout my life.

My second most vivid is sitting on the floor at my mother’s feet playing with toys as she sipped her trademark cup of tea. In almost movie like frames I remember her looking at me and smiling as me totally engrossed in my toys.

The rest of my memories are snapshots of various events but most of my childhood seems black or at least locked away in some deep memory vault until the right key is found.

I do however fondly remember my petrol sniffing escapades. I and a couple of friends would sit behind a friend’s dad’s car and through a hole in his makeshift petrol cover inhale the petrol fumes. We would then lie back and giggle away in a petrol buzz. We would then stagger home eat everything in sight and then repeat. I can tell you this ended quickly when our moms found out. We never did it again. Our bums still tingled with the memory of a well taught lesson.

Today I sit here a little sad and angry. I am sad because in the space of 24 hours I have had major run-ins with two close friends and mad that I feel apologetic for speaking honestly. I am mad because I find myself afraid of being alone and wondering whether I should have spoken the truth. I am more afraid of being alone than standing up for myself.

I am mad because I should not be here letting another’s  behavior go un checked especially if I am constantly being hurt or put down for being human, for being me.

As a man of faith I have continually vowed and tried to be different, not in the hip cool way but in the Biblical way. I have despite my inclinations to anger and resentment tried to be more forgiving, understanding and patient.

I chose to not hold a grudge which seems simple if you are not a choleric for whom grudges and vengeance come easy. Take a survey of a choleric's weaknesses and you shall begin to understand the extent of my cross (smile)

More than my inherent weaknesses I am weighed down by some pretty deep mental chains. All the unclaimed baggage left by careless words and actions. To deny them would be foolishness. To allow them to rule me would be suicide. And so I write.  

To get over my fear of failure, loneliness, losing people and to an extent being a victim I write.

I write to tell myself that I don’t deserve to be treated badly and yes I am worth being loved or fought. I write to extend my boundaries and discover my limits, to learn to shove some shit and also not to take some shit.

I write because I hope that someone else will find the strength to start their journey and face their demons, to take inventory of their baggage and to day by day remove all that is unwanted, perhaps put in some much needed supplies and with each passing day travel light.

My pen is the blade that cuts away my pain. It is the surgeon’s scalpel that allows me to dig deep and find the cancer. It is the rescuers search lights that allows me find myself in the night and it is the scribes torch that illuminates the library that is my soul and allows me to find the answers. It is the gift that God gave me to deal with all this excess unclaimed, unwanted baggage.

Flags of our fathers: Silence of the lambs.

The internet is filled with many blogs full of emotional gash written by people screaming for attention and willing to do anything to get it including wanton revelations of everything and anything personal.

This is not that kind of blog though it is filled with screams of attention of a kind. This is another reason why I write…and I hope why you continue to read.

I write because there is too much pain and darkness where emotional wounds fester and cankerous sores multiply.

I write because I must find healing. Perhaps this is the famed mid mid-life crisis, I don’t know. But one thing is for sure my ghostly sirens have been released from their dungeon, stirred up by the father’s hands. I must banish them at once or risk my future and the future of my sons and daughters.

And so I write. I write because I must be heard. I write because my existence should be more than just a scream, it must be a life well lived. A life of peace, serenity and completeness.

I do not write to stir controversy, at least not all the time nor do I write to engross myself in the vagaries of my own darkness. No, I do not write to create a rallying call for like-minded demons-of-the-past infested individuals seeking consolation in self-pity.

No, indeed I write because it is my light, my door, my path to a new tomorrow, to redemption.

I do not, through my pen, undress myself to stand naked before the world to satisfy its lust for voyeurism but because I must unclothe myself of filth to be able to arraign myself in the light of my father.

I write because the silence of this lamb is no more.

The flags of our fathers: A father’s greatest gift…

This series is something that I have always wanted to write but is one of the hardest things to write.  It is hard because, despite what I think of my dad, he is my dad and I love him. I don’t want in any way for what I say to shame him.

However even as much as I love my dad I want to speak and speak out. I want to speak out because no one has ever given me the permission or the place to speak, to pour my heart, share my grief and shout my frustrations.

Something about the African society just goes all mysterious when it comes to parents or adults. But also the blatant abuse of the responsibility of fathers is clear. I want to ask why anybody isn't speaking up.  I am surprised with tradition, culture and scripture. Children don’t speak to, about or against adults. This is not our culture. Honor your father if you want to live long.

But sometimes I want to ask, what about the children, these little eyes, ears, feet and hands all unified by this mind. Won’t these little people readily propagate the same hurtful and damaging cycles their parents initiated? Is it a wonder that Ugandan society seems to be spinning a little off centre.

I may not be the best or the right person to speak, but if I cannot let the evidence all around you speak.

There is the little girl who somehow ended up at my church early in the morning with the thought to end her life.

There is the little girl whose was abused by an uncle and when she spoke to her parents the pride of the clan was greater than her pain.

What of the family that endures the unfaithfulness of their father. Something everyone including friends knows to be happening.

The family that has to go through a divorce after many many years of marriage because of infidelity.

The son who “run" away from home simply because at a friend’s home, he found a sense of family, something he said he had never experience while in his father’s home.

The girl who believes she is curse simply because her mom say such dreadful things about her.

The boy who struggles with self-image because his dad told him he would amount to nothing.

You can fill the spaces with examples ad infinitum

I know nothing about parenting but I know a lot about being a child staggering under the weight of my father’s actions, words and more and yes honour parents, respect culture what whatever is done to the least of these is done also to Jesus and trust me some of it isn't pretty.

So what is a father’s greatest gift? It’s not education though that important. It’s not clothing or housing or all that other stuff that parents have a duty to provide. Put simply its love. Because love empowers us to be more than just dutiful adult person we can grow to be all round human being brining life and healing to a world sorely in need of it.

No wonder Christ’s major work was love, not the material gifts of a gracious God.

Work out your own salvation a.k.a Twakowa sausage

Today is Monday May 20^th 2013. For many of you out there you have a very detailed plan for your career and perhaps hope for your relationships by 2018.

You have read all the right books, joined all the networks online and groups on Facebook. You have signed up for all the newsletters and follow the  right people on twitter and are current with all that pertains to your field of interest all in a bid to stay on top of the game career wise.

You mouth all the mantras and live all the principles. You have Steve Jobs biography on you shelf. A copy of Richard Bransons “breaking my virginity” book has dog ears from over use while Kiyosaki's “Rich dad poor dad” has been underlined to the point of illegibility.

You subscribe to this newsletter, attend that weekly ‘millionaires’ meeting, seek mentoring and leadership from the business persons you admire and have invested in several businesses. All because in ten years you have this picture of financial stability, independence and more.

But I wonder how many of us actually put the same amount of effort into growing our faith. What are our spiritual targets for the next 5-10 years? Who are the men of faith we have submitted to in mentorship and discipleship to get to where we want to be? Which books that build our faith have we bought and totally worn out from reading and rereading. How many select groups do we attend to both encourage and find encouragement? How much have we invested in both time and money and more into this venture called our spiritual life? How many of us actually spend time training our spirits in the ways of the master.

When you read scripture a lot of the analogy for spiritual disciplines was connected to work. It was a sort of apprenticeship with us as the novice and God as the master. Those days and even in apprenticeship today it was mostly learned by doing. But there were other skills needed.

Because apprenticeship was long and hard and often took year’s commitment was foremost. Others I imagine was teach-ability, faith that your master would teach you all he knew, humility as learn and ask questions, grace under rebuke and failure, respect for your time and that of the master as well as keen eyes and hands cause after all that was the basic mode of skill transfer. You watched and did and watched and did till you were as God as the master. It was only then that you could work on your own.

So let’s all let go of these excuses we give, mbu church has failed us (this is my personal favourite) oba there is no longer preaching of the right gospel, true gospel or full gospel. Stop using the failing of other Christians to justify your actions; they were never your example to follow in the first place. Let us abandon the self-righteous internal neo judgment peppered with false humility that Christians lately are wont to do.

Instead let’s put out hand to the mill and follow that age old advice contained in the scriptures

¹² Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling,

Philippians 2:12

New International Version (NIV)

God knows we all need to.

Chasing your dreams III: Hello Fear (one more round)

I was quite miffed that I was. Seated in a friend’s Spartan living room, I was wracking my brain for the answer(s) to the question she just asked. “What would you do if you had one million dollars?” How do i explain this fire in my heart.

And right there is the heart of my quandary. When I was growing up choosing “full time” ministry was like the loftiest goal a Christian would have. Our scripture union heroes were those that had quit or passed over “lucrative” chances to serve God instead. That was true denial to self and true answering of the call of God.

Today it’s a different story. Men who chose the “ministry” are scrutinized more and those that blindly walk into a profession are only questioned if the number of zeros to their salary is requisite and if they are what figure is at the beginning. I do not know how many times I have been asked to make sure that ministry is really the path God has set for me.

I feel like a man stuck in a time warp of sorts. Here I was, in the prime of my life, in a game whose rules had been changed. I feel like I am taking part in a game with an outdated rule book as my guide and being given a thorough butt whooping.

The world and the church by extension applaud winners. Nobody remembers who comes second they say. If two people walk the same path and one succeeds and the other fails, well the one who succeeds is revolutionary while the loser was probably 'delusionary'…this was not his true calling.

You see failure(s) is no longer well received in today’s church either. It’s either condemned or soothed away with the message of grace. And as far as I saw it I was a failure. I was quitting a good job for ministry.

The response of the faithful to my decision to leave a “big” job in one of the leading corporations in town was nothing but confusing. I think part one of chasing your dream goes into detail of my fears and more but the one comment that stood out for me and today still rings in my ears was one made my a close friend. He said I was being lazy and did not want to work hard and was using church and ministry as an excuse.

That left me reeling both from the meaning of the statement and the person who had spoken. I am not sure I have truly fully recovered from that. It was the seed that I am now constantly fighting to uproot. It is the doubt that has become my proverbial thorn in the flesh.

You see if your dream was to be at the top of this or that corporation then today’s game is for you. But if your dream was “mother Theresa” in shape or form, you have  your work cut out for you because nothing about today’s world or church, in so much as I have experience it, is rarely rooting for you Unless of course you win.

When they do listen they want you to present them a clear “ministry plan” of how this is going to produce dividends (saved souls) at the end so their money can be well spent and every time this comes up, well how do you explain a desire to give yourself towards the discipling of people, the provision of a home, a place of comfort and refuge where the weak, tired, worn can come and receive some “chicken soup for their souls”.

Every time these issues come I say. “Hello fear, I have two fist, faith and a promise let’s do this cause backing down and backing out are not an option.”

Ding! Ding! Ding! I’m ready for one more round.

Chasing your dreams II: waking up to the dream

Now here I stood fresh out of my corporate job and absolutely no plan, except to trust God and see where that road led. 

I was excited. I felt liberated. This was one rat that had made it out of the rat race alive and in one peace. I felt like a prisoner who had just made a successful escape from a super max high security prison.

I had quit to follow my heart and do ministry. That right was the first obstacle. What was this ministry I wanted to do? You see I had made this move at a time when “ministry” had been demystified and so even you work was ministry. It was all about going out to the market place and living the gospel. Taking the Gospel to the people so to speak. And here I was doing the exact opposite.

I was undaunted. I chose to volunteer at my home church All Saints Cathedral Kampala while figured that out. I also started raising support which in this case was asking people for their hard earned cash to facilitate this ministry.

Nga Christians do not give, especially to ministries that cannot be quantified or where they have not benefitted or witnessed the “power” first hand. And here I was, green and bleak, a newbie, a fresher in this whole “ministry” business.

That was just one of my problems. I wondered what I would tell people when they asked why I had left the job the God had “blessed” me with as a reward for my years of faithful service. I honestly did not have an answer. All I knew was that like Jeremiah I had a fire in my bones. I thought that perhaps a scriptural analogy would suffice but nga Christians really carry out due diligence when it comes to separating them from their money.

So I went back to God, remember the advice of a good friend who was doing something similar to what I wanted to do. He told me, before you leave make sure you have promises from God about these things. In other words, get a promise from scripture to back up your call and ministry.

SO I went back to God.in the months leading up to my notice period elapsing I asked and asked and asked.

HE sent me to the story of Abraham.

The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you. “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.” So Abram went, as the Lord had told him….

One thing that really stood out was the portion “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you. There are no assurance Just the command to leave all that was familiar and go “to the land I will show you” it does not get any more vague than that and scary.

Many people think that following God is about him showing you the whole map and telling you this is what will happen and how. But often it’s the command and the promise that keeps you.

The other thing I asked is God what shall I tell them. How shall I qualify all the crazy things I am sure you are going to make me do? I need some back up here.

He took me to the story of Moses.

Moses said to God, “Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ Then what shall I tell them? “God said to Moses, “I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: ‘I am has sent me to you.’”

Two things happen here. God asserts Himself and He deputises his servant. Well here I am, God has sent me and God is who he is. Hey I don’t make the rules I just follow them.

He also reminded me of some instance in the past where I vowed to expend myself in doing his work and in return that He would expend himself making sure I was covered because poverty and I had parted ways and I was not going back.

So armed with nothing but A COMMAND and A PROMISE I set out to the ‘land’ He was sending me to. I an still Journeying.