If ever there was a time when I thought I would not have had a good story that was a short lived thought. Week after week something happens that leaves a mark in my soul. Life may be a vapour but mine must be one of many colours. It's not my story I'm living, it's history, his story told through me; not an alter ego who is tall and has super powers but God, who decided outside of creating time to tell his story through people (random people? I don't think so). Whatever reason you have for reading these posts always remember it's God's story with me as the main character. What's yours?
We had our Nazarene Youth International (NYI) District Convention last weekend in January. It was good. They were the usual citizens who love the sound of their voices and there were those who actually had something to say. As the weekend went on I said this was going to be a good week. On Sunday, church was awesome. We lick down tunes so old there was cobweb flying from the mics. The old folk were singing loudly, well pretty much everyone. Those songs like "At Calvary" and "We Are Marching To Zion" struck that ancient chord in the old rugged organ of our hearts. It was beautiful. Of course, I remembered the sermon. Two people gave their testimonies about God's goodness, focussing on the beauty of serving God. "The beauty of serving God is...he knows". I'll leave that to linger.
God knows. I went to school that week fully hyped and happy and all things bubbly. On Tuesday, before we left, mummy noticed that the tire was soft. We went to the gas station and pumped the tire and then I went to get it repaired. I drove to the tire place and reversed into the garage, popped the trunk and took out the tire. Sitting in his chair, drinking a beer, the "Tyre Man" as he is so called, got out and asked what the problem was. I told him the tyre had a nail in it but I took it out. Laughing at me, he told me that I shouldn't have done it and not to do it next time. I learned that my tyres are tubeless. We go on talking about random stuff when a guy drove past us playing old dub (music). He asked me, "That's your kind of music?" I said well not really. And he replied, "Oh so you're a christian." I thought that didn't have much to do with dub music, but moreover, I wondered how he came to that conclusion. I didn't linger on that but I just told him I don't like the lyrics so I don't listen to it, which lead to a conversation about the church up the road. Long story short, the tyres got fixed and the guy had company. Funny thing, he didn't offer me a beer.
The week went on getting better and better until Wednesday came lol. Wednesdays are usually my horror days, when I face a rediculous timetable. I'm not much to complain about timetabling because I think I still have one of the best timetables in my year - no night classes, no Saturday classes. Wednesday I got cursed to touching a girl's jacket because I thought she had a stain. It was horrific and I don't want to talk about it. If I had pride I would have been a lot more shamed than I was.
The beauty of God is...God knows.
What else happened...oh I began building a sheep pen (with help of course). It's not as easy as Discovery Kids makes it seem. It's hard work that I would not recommend to everyone. It is a good way to stop delinquency in your children though. Even though it's not finished, I feel like I've done something special, something bigger than I am (I guess you could realise the colossal nature of this structure then.).
That's it for me. Enjoy your week and look both ways before you cross the street.
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