Resist Attraction

I believe in organically cultivated relationships. Get to know someone under mundane circumstances, befriend them gradually, understand the SWOT slowly and maybe blossom into love muuuch later. Long stretches of this road may look like the much-maligned "Friendzone" but nothing good comes fast and easy. Patience wins the marathon.

The whole "love at first sight" rainbow-themed rose-tinted fireworks arrangement strikes me as genetically modified love. Artificially inseminated with primal desire, incubated in pretentious dates, needing life support when the excitement fades, shaky at best, likely dangerous. (I've been both victim and perpetrator, so I ought to know by now.)

This is not to say that I have saintly transcended instantaneous lust in the age of makeup. That struggle continues. A man's eyes are prone to be ensnared by elaborate cons as long as Photoshop tools avail in our sisters' dressing tables and wardrobes. Actual authentic 100% lovely-looking lasses also roam the earth turning beholders' necks. I have already ranted so much against the consequences of fashion that I loathe repeating myself here now.

Alcohol also predisposes men towards carnal gratification. In Proverbs 23:33, The Bible says after you have become drunk,"thine eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart shall utter perverse things." Ever seen how a drunk gazes at the strange women who avail themselves? The Bible knows all about that. Goes on to say "a whore is a deep ditch; and a strange woman is a narrow pit" (v27). At first I equated  strange woman with whore, prostitute, harlot;. Unfortunately, today, many glorified and overrated strange women operate under the guise of a wide variety of socially accepted (nay, celebrated) roles.

Back to topic. Granted, visual attraction is a major element in the establishment of any relationship. can't deny the fact that beauty is that which arrests the attention in the first place. I'd just like, one day, to be able to approach a lady with something along the lines of "I admire your character and comportment and I like your wit and humor. Your looks are an added bonus."

Status Report

The rain is trying to be funny. I was NOT going to post this one, I was rushing off to go and play football instead. But just when I got to the door, the heavens unleashed a torrent that descended with with lightning and thunder. In Kisumu when it rains it pours. Now I hope the lights won't go out mid-typing as well because that will just be hilarious.

Dear reader, please try to ignore the fact that this post is an afterthought, a less-favored plan B. Speaking of plan B, I've been thinking hard about getting one. I'm at that age where confusion and existential doubt reign supremely. Career, relationships, hobbies, interests etc  are all aspects of a man's identity. I think I bury myself in reading, drawing, writing, blogging, music and football because when I allow my mind to wander, I become my own worst critic.

Right now my major interests are the Bible, World History and the relationship between them especially today. My findings? I'll tell you this: the truth is stranger than fiction, much more gripping than any novel. Besides, if all else leaves me behind and I go out of touch with fashion, gadgetry, career, entertainment etc, I want to stick with the Word of GOD.

That said, I plan to post entire webpages here, wholesale plagiarism, because the spiritual truths contained in them are critically important for this age. I recommend the site Bible Explained to all and sundry, especially for the more symbolic and prophetic aspects of scripture. Any time a verse defeats my comprehension, I dash there, and I have never had reason to gripe. You won't regret it.

Oh, look, the rain's over already. Perhaps the soccer pitch isn't too wet. Goodbye.

The Footballer’s Guide to Love

Between soccer and love, parallels exist, albeit crude ones. (I must declare my fanatical soccer-playing at the outset so you know this is not an “objective” blog post.) Besides, my own observations and experience with Victoria FC provides all the evidence necessary to support such a claim.

Humor me. I daresay that love is at the center of the football game; otherwise it all makes no sense at all. Twenty-two men kicking one inflated leather ball around? Utter madness. Football’s greats have been people who loved the game enough to spend years, decades, in training. But their love for the game overcompensates for the lacking rationale. (Of course, a fat paycheck jumpstarts motivation.)

I will attempt to frame technical aspects of the game within the corresponding love scenario. Granted, I have been single for quite a while now. A reader may feel convicted to point out that I therefore do not qualify to talk of love, as though potential employers and their demands for “experience” have not already driven me up the wall. I encourage such to sit down and argue with me later in the comments section. (“You wanna step outside and talk about this one on one, like men?”)

Kidding. Here goes. *Whistle blows*

Possession: the team collectively strives to keep the ball. It is a basic winning strategy – one can not score goals without the ball. Similarly the lover must strive to “keep” the beloved at all times while protecting him/her from the concerted attempts of worthy rivals to dispossess him/her by all means, including two-footed tackles.

Passing: by spreading the ball around, possession is preserved. Naturally, every individual player dreams of stunning the crowds with a spectacular solo effort. Practically, however, a reasonable player usually sees a better positioned teammate and relinquishes the ball to him despite his own strong cravings for stardom. There’s more to any pass than cold strategy; there is also an implicit trust that the receiving player is fully capable of making a positive contribution. Besides, if you give a pass, it will come back to you sometime, right? If you love something, set it free, yes? Therefore, if you want to receive more, give more. This is love.

Finding space: Players thrive when they break free of their markers in preparation for incoming passes. You will not see a player fighting his opponent physically, overpowering him and afterwards taking the ball. That’s a direct red card. Rather, intelligent space calculations and movements are made to minimize contact with opponents and maximize possession. Each player runs into his own area of unobstructed turf as he best judges fit; consequently, teammates end up spread out. Therefore, if you are in love, just get your own space and permit your beloved as much space as they need, alright? None of that neurotic clingy-possessive business, okay? Then things will work.

Dribbling and ball control: requires skill and passion. The player understands and cooperates with the ball in order to maneuver it as he will. That is my definition of “the zone”: where ball and player are on a superior level of alertness together. Similarly with love: ideally, there is to be “one mind” between two – shared goals, basic understanding, synergy. This makes obstacles fun to overcome; passes between opponents find their targets accurately, and goals become rewarding.

Yes, I DO think too much. My unlikely parallels between soccer and relationships end there.

A. W. Tozer: "The Incredible Christian"

“The Christian believes that in Christ he has died, yet he is more alive than before and he fully expects to live forever. He walks on earth while seated in heaven and though born on earth he finds that after his conversion he is not at home here. Like the nighthawk, which in the air is the essence of grace and beauty but on the ground is awkward and ugly, so the Christian appears at his best in the heavenly places but does not fit well into the ways of the very society into which he was born.

“The Christian soon learns that if he would be victorious as a son of heaven among men on earth he must not follow the common pattern of mankind, but rather the contrary. That he may be safe he puts himself in jeopardy; he loses his life to save it and is in danger of losing it if he attempts to preserve it. He goes down to get up. If he refuses to go down he is already down, but when he starts down he is on his way up.

“He is strongest when he is weakest and weakest when he is strong. Though poor he has the power to make others rich, but when he becomes rich his ability to enrich others vanishes. He has most after he has given most away and has least when he possesses most.

“He may be and often is highest when he feels lowest and most sinless when he is most conscious of sin. He is wisest when he knows that he knows not and knows least when he has acquired the greatest amount of knowledge. He sometimes does most by doing nothing and goes furthest when standing still. In heaviness he manages to rejoice and keeps his heart glad even in sorrow.

“The paradoxical character of the Christian is revealed constantly. For instance, he believes that he is saved now, nevertheless he expects to be saved later and looks forward joyfully to future salvation. He fears God but is not afraid of Him. In God’s presence he feels overwhelmed and undone, yet there is nowhere he would rather be than in that presence. He knows that he has been cleansed from his sin, yet he is painfully conscious that in his flesh dwells no good thing.

“He loves supremely One whom he has never seen, and though himself poor and lowly he talks familiarly with One who is King of all kings and Lord of all lords, and is aware of no incongruity in so doing. He feels that he is in his own right altogether less than nothing, yet he believes without question that he is the apple of God’s eye and that for him the Eternal Son became flesh and died on the cross of shame.

“The Christian is a citizen of heaven and to that sacred citizenship he acknowledges first allegiance; yet he may love his earthly country with that intensity of devotion that caused John Knox to pray: ‘O God, give me Scotland or I die.’

“He cheerfully expects before long to enter that bright world above, but he is in no hurry to leave this world and is quite willing to await the summons of his Heavenly Father. And he is unable to understand why the critical unbeliever should condemn him for this; it all seems so natural and right in the circumstances that he sees nothing inconsistent about it.

“The cross-carrying Christian, furthermore, is both a confirmed pessimist and an optimist the like of which is to be found nowhere else on earth.

“When he looks at the cross he is a pessimist, for he knows that the same judgment that fell on the Lord of glory condemns in that one act all nature and all the world of men. He rejects every human hope out of Christ because he knows that man’s noblest effort is only dust building on dust.
“Yet he is calmly, restfully optimistic. If the cross condemns the world the resurrection of Christ guarantees the ultimate triumph of good throughout the universe. Through Christ all will be well at last and the Christian waits the consummation.

"Incredible Christian!”

Fragile Feminine Beauty

Men can afford to walk around looking rough-edged without the least qualm of conscience. Compared to them, the ladies are a delicate lot. If the feminist movement is doing all it can to eradicate the idea of inequality, the fashion industry is undoing their small steps with giant backward leaps. This insight came to me suddenly, as I beheld a well-dressed lady. Her dress was as colorful and as beautiful as the petals of a flower. Her hair was well made, she carried herself with pride and dignity, as if conscious that she was decorating the place by her mere presence.

I concluded that it takes a lot of work to keep a lady looking presentable. Let us not enter into the touchy politics of adornments, enhancements, struts, props, and weaves. Those fit into a much larger picture than just outward appearances - a real-world, wordless parable which conveys "handle with care". Think about it. If women were to expose themselves to the elements as recklessly as men do, they would be worse for wear and it would show. Their beauty is paired with fragility. I'm not saying there are no women boxing or pulling handcarts, neither am I defending lazy diva behaviors. Moderation is the answer.

I have a small sister; our youngest sibling. In her energetic childhood days my brother and I forged her into a tomboy, taking her to soccer games, high-speed bicycle-riding daredevilry, hard-sprinting chasing games and all. We always ensured she was on our team; she dribbled confidently between boys and scored goals freely, she was our pride and joy. Several times she ventured to confront bullies twice her age, the lucky ones got away with harsh verbal reprimands, one endured the awkward misfortune of being attacked by a little girl. Such a vigorous childhood wasn't always easy on her, since all those neighborhood football games were played on tarmac roads, so that a fall meant the flesh of the elbows and knees earned a bloody mincing. She got quite fast, tough and strong as a result. I was certain that she was fittin' to become the next Marion Jones.

Now little sister is not so small anymore. She has slowed down and parted ways with the tomboy in her - by and large. Wants nothing to do with exercise. Though occasionally one will hear her telling enamored boys "Nitakupiga!" Otherwise, she is coming of age with beauty and refinement. Plus fragility.

The point? Youth fades away, but while it lasts, it is beautiful. Our days of vitality are a blessing which deserve to be made the best use of - not with that YOLO foolishness.

Cult-ure

“Entertainment is the devil's substitute for joy.” Ravenhill

Pastor Ken Smith (twitter @projectpeter) explains what this means.

"Especially in the western societies, we have drowned ourselves in entertainment. This quote was in "Why Revival Tarries" written in the late 1950's or Early 60's.... think of today. Cell phones with text and mini-computer systems, computer systems, video games, movies, television, baseball, basketball, football, Auto racing, Tennis, Music, Concerts, etc. etc. etc. Even today many churches put on quite the show. At the end of the day we mention how we just don't have time to pray. We don't have time to study God's Word. Our joy comes in our entertainment now... we have no real desire for the things of God beyond wanting the blessings of God without sacrifice."

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Behind the facade of glamor and hype, pop culture breeds despair. It is ever in flux; its bewildering plethora of "pop idols" has a high rate of turnover, its goalposts shift constantly, whether in pursuit of the latest electronic contraption or status symbol. Such rootless nomadism of purpose serves only to dizzy the seeker.

The hedonistic philosophy behind 21st century culture is a yawning chasm filled with the mirage of substance. Whosoever seeks to establish themselves within it will fail - the foundation can not hold. The worldview is functionless: pretends to derive meaning from passing fads designed to distract. Appetite for vanity only grows as it is fed. Greed for recognition and status can not be satisfied.

This is the anatomy of perversion. Darwin theorized evolution and Neitsche concluded that God is dead, adding their voices to a long list of history's atheists, and denying divine purpose to the human equation. The same mindset permeates our politics and entertainment. Its logical conclusions are that all things are acceptable, and morality is a hindrance to progress. Very shortly, such "science falsely so called" was widely disseminated by agents of darkness. Today, pop culture grooves to the refrain "Do as thou wilt" - do what you want (because allegedly there is no moral obligation.) What have the results of such frame of mind been?

Because there is no restraint, the culture is at once addictive and oppressive.
People strive to stamp other people under their boot, eager to impose their superiority, simply to attain status. Even many who preach unity go to great lengths to set themselves apart from "the common man." Who wants to be hoi polloi? Don't answer that.

Humility is rejected while the objective is to steamroll rivals into the dust and utterly humiliate them. Consequently, lots of resentful people itch for the chance to get even, craving the means with which they will avenge the indignities imposed upon them by their lack of means. Those who concede an inch do it only to give way to the bigger dog, biding their time impatiently.

Life is mistaken to be the sum of who you know and what you own. These become weapons of conquest, treasures to ceaselessly pursue and hoard away. The fittest survive, the weak take their frustrations out on each other. Oppression prevails. The law of the jungle is transplanted into human society.

Despair buds and grows in the latent emptiness of outward abundance. Little wonder the tale of modern society is broken homes, loneliness and suicide.

In contrast, blessed is the people whose God is the LORD! All this foolishness does not ruin their lives, for they do not subscribe to such flawed "logic". JESUS is the way.

ROMANS 8:6 For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.

God knows what He’s about

When God wants to drill a man,
And thrill a man,
And skill a man,
When God wants to mold a man,
To play the noblest part;
When He yearns with all His heart
To create so great and bold a man
That all the world shall be amazed
Watch His methods, watch His ways!
How He ruthlessly perfects
Whom He royally elects!
How He hammers and hurts him,
And with mighty blows converts
Into trial shapes of clay which
Only God understands;
While his tortured heart is crying
And he lifts beseeching hands!
How he bends but never breaks
When his good He undertakes;
How He uses whom He chooses,
And with every purpose fuses him
By every act induces him
To try His splendor out –
God knows what He’s about.

V. Raymond Edman, 1982 President, Wheaton College The Disciplines of Life

Sticking to it

A brief chat with Pearl suddenly became a rare opportunity for me to really open up. 

It got me thinking. I never thought the day would come when I would have trouble finding people I could open up to, like, really just run my mouth. Rarely do I expose the soft underbelly of my hopes, doubts, fears and aspirations - except perhaps on this blog. That requires a specifically matured blend of like-mindedness, familiarity and trust. Call me introverted.

Pearl and I reminisced on days of old, way back when I was still “in the world”, when this blog had not yet become an unending series of sermons. Those were wild days for me, but luckily for us both, she was grounded. Kept me in check – at least while we were together. (Quite ironically, we seem to have exchanged shoes – Pearl is “in the world” now.)

Sometimes I catch myself wallowing in nostalgia, brooding longingly on bygone misadventures. This blog’s archive is a witness to what the past entailed. Not infrequently have I looked back at my past with desire. The world was (and remains) full of conveniently placed lures. For all its dangers, life on the edge means constantly surfing the crest of a high and fast wave of pure adrenalin. This thrill alone makes it hard to leave that life behind. I often wonder if my current excuse of a renounced lifestyle is inexcusably pale and lifeless in comparison. I have to struggle with myself to hold down perceived boredom; tears smart in my eyes as I ignore the alter ego’s plaintive and pitiful appeals for attention. Wouldn’t it just be easier to feed the beast, sate its ravenous appetite, once and for all? Or, at least, just this once? Sometimes it seems that is the way to go.

But I know that if I turned back, that would be the really foolish part. The journey lies ahead. Even though I may stumble and fall, it’s not over till it’s over. I must rise again and forge onwards. What is past is left behind. Besides:

James 4:17
Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.

Often I’m tempted to “break out of my shell”, stop being a “weirdo.” More than once I’ve come close to cutting out all this scripture-quoting – it’s not as if people appreciate it anyway – and come down to Planet Earth, return to posting a live-stream of adventures and conquests. (Am I repeating myself?) But it’s funny: I ALWAYS find I can’t live like that and ALSO be true to my conscience – these two are mutually exclusive. I can’t lie to myself and believe it too. If I feign ignorance for too long, it happens like it happened to King David:

PSALM 39:2-3
I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred. My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then spake I with my tongue.

(Paraphrase to fit my case: “…then blogged I with my blog.” hahaha)

The prophet Jeremiah confessed that, due to ridicule he received, he longed to stop his prophetic duties but found that he simply couldn’t.

JEREMIAH 20:9

Then I said, I will not make mention of [the LORD], nor speak any more His name, But His word was in my heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with foreboding, and I could not stay.

Chapter 20 begins with Jeremiah ridiculed, unjustly spending a night in the stocks, for delivering a prophecy from GOD that nobody at all liked. (He predicted in terrible detail the bloody Babylonian siege and conquest of Jerusalem.) In verses 14-18, a discouraged Jeremiah ends up cursing the day he was born. But despite such mistreatment, he stuck to prophecy anyway. My ‘problems’ are comparatively microscopic. I can stick to Bible-quoting.

The struggle with self continues. (Prayer works.)

Prospect?

Church.

I walked in at what I thought was a respectable hour, only to see that Anita had arrived before me and was seated in her routine position, next to a window on the far right. Most seats were still empty, including the one next to her. She was well-dressed in an exquisitely patterned green dress. With her, if anything is worth wearing, it shall not escape accessorizing with a matching color ensemble. Her Bible lay open on her laps, her gaze was fixed in a thoughtful, preoccupied gaze outside, she was frozen in thought, solemnly staring at nothing specific: a beautiful sight. I settled next to her.

A fit of whispering ensued:

“The prodigal returns.” 

“I’d gone to the village. Camp-meeting week.” 

“Ama camp-meeting month! I was saving your seat the whole time.” 

“Sorry.”

Sitting next to Anita in church is always worthwhile. We sing the hymns with gusto. And we don’t let one another drift off the program and sink into oceans of daydreams, because the other will elbow one’s ribcage. From the way she keeps me on my toes, I suspect she was a particularly unpopular high school prefect some time past, or is just a natural-born tyrant with a refined taste for discipline, or maybe she just plays like that. I DON’T KNOW.

I on the other hand am an unabashedly happy-go-lucky sort. However, Anita’s presence, character and influence make me reflect on my goings deeply, twice.

“You don’t know where Thessalonians is?” she says later on, midway through the sermon, as we turn to scripture at the preacher’s behest. 

“Page 1252.” I’ve just checked my table of contents.
“Fine; after which book?”
“Get off my case,” I deflect.
She assumes a severe look, while reciting all the New Testament books in precise order.
“Impressive.” I say, nodding sagely. “Now, pay attention.”

We get along well. But she makes me sense that my standards could be too low - I fear she’s too perfect for me.

This Fiery Flesh

The higher brain should dominate the lower brain. In other words, the higher faculties (reason, conviction) should restrain the lower faculties (appetites, passions). To further paraphrase, the base instincts (food, sexual cravings) ought always to be in subjection to good old good sense. This was taught to me in church one afternoon. I found that the teaching sat well in my brain. That was the theory bit. But life is not a written exam.

The practical application is difficult! Mostly, this is because the lower faculties (especially the lust component) have instant reaction times and concretely tangible reflexes – hard to ignore. To further complicate matters, we live in times when the lower faculties are nourished endlessly. This means that whosoever would have their higher faculties guide them MUST constantly be rejecting the prevailing immoral milieu. A difficult task, tiring the brain, and apparently unrewarding for the most part. All it would take to fail would be one inopportune moment of letting down the guard.

Or shall we blame our bodies? As a guy, I believe I speak representatively when I say sex occupies a disproportionate percentage of my gender’s brain CPU and memory usage, for all the effort and ingenuity we collectively expend on pursuing it. And the fashion industry isn’t helping either. So, every other minute, along comes another pretty young lady (un)dressed in the latest fashion whose designer was more concerned with revealing than concealing. What’s a man to do? A defeatist would say we are wired that way; so be it.

One misplaced thought is bad enough; how then can we survive the ongoing 24/7 assault on our minds? The cult of instant gratification observes most seductive rituals, addictive traps for souls. If we escape it in the media, our associates pick it up and bring it into our lives via their talk, fashion, entertainment, lifestyles. This strong liquor is everywhere, maddening, inflaming the nerves, rousing the lower brain on to new conquests.

I think the hardest fight everyone has to fight – on the individual level - is the fight of the higher brain against the lower brain. And we are all called to fight that fight. Avoidance is better than cure, so see no evil, hear no evil. Fortunately, just in case these heated combats somehow arise, we also have a fire extinguisher on hand. It’s called PRAYER. It works every time.