I rarely go to church, not that I’m a Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Shintoist, or any other religion out there for godsake. And for peace sake, please don’t refer to me as a heathen either, because I’m not. I’m just a young man born of a Christian — Catholic — family but along the way, just stopped attending mass and church services.
Me basking in the sun in the morning hours
I don’t know why, but not to say that I don’t pray. I do. I do talk to God — that superior being that we grew up being told He lives up in the sky — in my own twisted way.
I “talk” to Him whenever I remember, or start feeling guilty I haven’t had contact with Him for some time. When I do, it doesn’t matter the time or place, I will just start praying, sometimes even while walking. I always begin by apologizing to Him for praying while walking because traditionally people pray while standing, sitting, kneeling, or laying on their bellies — this is somehow peculiar but is witnessed with those possessed or “attacked” by the holy ghost — but rarely while walking. So I always feel guilty because it’s against the norm, but anyway I’ve never heard God complain!
Behind my silhouette, you can see a beautiful weather with a cloud starting to form. You can also see a silver lining on the cloud. There’s always hope.
Anyway, me going to church or not is beside the point. The most important thing is that I do pray. I talk to Him, the faceless but Omnipresent and Omnipotent God that I believe is behind this mysterious phenomenon called the universe.
I pray because I believe there are so many things in this life worth being grateful for. I don’t know what you call them, but I call them blessings.
Today being a Sunday, I did pray, again while walking. It was about fifteen minutes past six this morning and I was hurrying to open the shop. Most Sundays are always mine since I don’t go to church. But I’m planning on changing that narrative very soon. My girlfriend promised to drag me there next time. Wish her good luck, she will need it. Mama herself back home and my born-again brother, Chris that I mentioned in Rest in peace Polisi, tried without much success.
Like always, I started with,
Before going any further, I remembered I had my hands in my hoodie pockets. I reluctantly removed them — blame it on this chilly Nairobi weather — before continuing with my prayer, which was constantly interrupted by; “morning”, ” morning to you”, “hi”, “mambo”, ” niaje”, “poa”, ” poa bro”, “fiti”, “fete”, “mzuri”, “mzuri sana”, “umeamka vipi”, “form”, name it. Hope God is as understanding as the Bible says (not even sure where exactly in the Holy Book though).
I thanked God for the gift of life because I’m aware not everyone was as lucky as I was to wake up. Many out there hoped to see this day and in between dusk and dawn, something happened and unfortunately they never did. Families out there are grieving, I’m not.
Like usual, slept late last night and still managed to wake up early, took a cold shower —by the way that shower need to be fixed — and don’t have even a cold. Someone out there is in ICU fighting for their dear lives, even as I’m writing this. Not trying to brag or appear arrogant, just counting my blessings, some of the reasons I pray.
Also throughout the night, I had a decent roof over my head, how many people out there were not even lucky to get a sleeping space on somebody’s porch? Many, I’m sure. I was clothed, and had a pair of shoes on my feet, though not that decent but who cares. How many in villages out there are going about nude and bare-foot and not by choice? In my back pack I had a small flask containing some milked tea for my breakfast. I knew there were people who slept on an empty stomach, and were not even sure if they will be lucky enough to grab anything to eat in the course of the day. I knew that was a blessing and so I made sure I counted it in the presence of God.
I remembered my country too. We have had and still do have a series of problems, most of it being politically motivated. Misunderstandings, standoffs, divisions, police – caused – deaths, just to name a few, and we are still here. We are still holding on. We are still hoping at the end of the day, it will be alright. At the end of this long dark tunnel, will be light.
Against all odds, many of us are still breathing, and that’s a reason enough to be grateful to God.
Before I said “Amen”, was close to my destination, and had counted so many things I had that honestly, believed I didn’t deserve them at all, like my family. My mother was a blessing. Just having her alive, watching strands of foreign hair start to show up on her head, watching the same old smile that has defied time and years of struggle — raising all of us, single-handedly — was a blessing nothing can buy.
So you see, it’s not that bad. In whatever situation you are in right now, just remember there’s someone out there in far much worse situation, and above all, there’s God. It will be alright. No matter how long the night, there shall be day. Count your blessings — which are uncountable — and thank God for each one of them.
Have a wonderful Sunday y’all.