My slow, sole journey to salvation


Until the Sunday of October 2, 2016, I had  last stepped foot in church – by choice – on Boxing Day of 2007. Often      I went   to church either by compulsion or obligation.

My absentia from church for close to a decade  should  in no way  be confused with my   agnostic approach to religion. I am convinced that my relationship with     Christ     is  a   personal   matter.

However, over the years I have been judged, unfairly or not, as a pagan,     an   unworthy   creature   who shunned Church fellowship and should be condemned to hell fire.

Although  I acknowledge  being a sinner, I       used    to    believe  that by  doing all  the   good I could, I     was   still  worthy    in the eyes of God.

In fact, I always  told my “judges” that they will be shocked on Judgement   Day    when   they  see me walking through the VIP entrance        (if     such a thing exists) into Heaven.

I heard the voice of Jesus

So on Sunday of October 2, 2016, I freely made my way to Nkoyoyo Hall. That morning the choir outdid itself. Their voices were soaring far beyond the clouds, and as they sang the hymn “I  heard the voice of Jesus,” I was deeply touched. It was my first time to hear the hymn  but    it   made a lot of sense.

Rewind  to the evening before and  how  I  got   to Nkoyoyo. I felt like   I   had  heard the voice of Jesus. I vividly  remember how I hurriedly    left  The Standard   offices that  Saturday at 6.45 pm, to catch the Liverpool game screening.

Riding  on the boda boda, I heard    the voice of God. It  was not as   loud as portrayed     in the Bible where people fell off their feet.   Rather it   was in my heart – a request   of   sorts – for me to make   it   to    church the following morning.

In disbelief I purposed to sleep late that night so I could wake up past   church time, but surprisingly, I was up by 6:30 am the following morning. What excuse did I have now?

In Nkoyoyo Hall I sat in the front row and closely followed Rev Samson Maliisa’s sermon drawn from St Paul’s Letter to the Romans, chapter 2.

“There    is no such a thing as super    Christianity,” Maliisa   said,  adding that, “We all need divine help  on a   daily   basis. We are  all potential    candidates    of   God’s wrath  and our judgment shall depend on what we have done – not know or believe!”

I could not agree more. I felt a strong   magnet   pull  me  to  the    front when   the    altar call  was made. As    I    rose from my chair I said to myself, “Well, it’s about time!”

The  special moment I always heard people describe was now mine to savour, as everyone stretched     their   hands   out to pray for me, and every part of me felt free.

That   is     undoubtedly        the happiest day of my 25 years’ existence.


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