When Words Are Already Clear

There are moments in Scripture where Jesus speaks plainly, without metaphor or mystery layered on top.

Matthew 16:28 and Luke 9:27 are such moments.

“I tell you the truth,” He says.

“Some standing here will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God.”

Over time, scholars and believers alike have worked hard to interpret these words linking them to the Transfiguration, Pentecost, the destruction of Jerusalem, or the Resurrection and the Ascension. These interpretations carry weight, history, and theological depth.

Yet I wonder if, in our effort to understand the when and why, we sometimes overlook what was said so clearly.

I believe Jesus was speaking to people standing before Him. Living, breathing listeners. Not abstract generations far removed in time, but human beings with dust on their feet and questions in their hearts. Perhaps the difficulty lies not in His words, but in our understanding of time itself.

Time, after all, is a human construct. Heaven does not experience it as we do. Scripture already tells us that angels move between realms, appearing and disappearing, walking among us unnoticed. If we can accept that, why is it so difficult to consider that divine encounters and kingdom moments are not locked behind centuries or future dates?

What if the Kingdom of God is not only an event to be awaited, but a reality revealed? Seen, not just expected. Touched, not just studied.

Maybe Jesus was not speaking of distant timelines at all. Maybe He was inviting His listeners—and us—to see differently. To recognize that God’s Kingdom is closer, more present, and more alive than we dare to imagine.

Sometimes the deepest mystery is not hidden in complexity, but in simplicity we refuse to accept.

Bulawayo Rain Therapy

Bulawayo rain does not arrive quietly It announces itself loudly, like it wants witnesses.

One minute it is hot and dusty, the next the sky decides, no, today we pause. Plans are cancelled and productivity is postponed, the rain has spoken.

There is something healing about sitting still and just listening to it hit the roof, no pressure, no expectations just rain doing its thing and you doing absolutely nothing important.

The city slows down in the best way, traffic eases off, conversations soften, even stress takes a break, probably to wait out the rain like the rest of us.

For a moment, shoulders drop and minds quieten. You tell yourself big things like, I will rest more, I will worry less and the rain nods politely, knowing life will resume soon.

We love the rains and we welcome this season, and that is enough.