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.

You Already Have What You Need

The Myth of “More”

We often convince ourselves that progress requires more, more time, more motivation and more resources. Yet much of what we seek is not missing at all. It is simply buried beneath distraction, impatience, and the constant pressure to do everything at once.

The truth is quieter and far less dramatic and growth rarely arrives in excess, it arrives in focus.

Less Noise, More Purpose 

Time is not usually the problem, attention is. We fill our days with movement and still feel unfulfilled because busyness is mistaken for purpose. When distractions are reduced, clarity begins to surface, what once felt overwhelming becomes manageable and even simple.

Self-control often matters more than motivation. Motivation fades but discipline carries us through when inspiration disappears. It is not about forcing yourself into action but about choosing what deserves your energy and protecting it.

Resourcefulness Over Resources

It is easy to believe we are waiting on something external before we can begin. More money or better tools even for the right opportunity. Yet history repeatedly shows that resourcefulness outweighs resources and those who learn to work with what they have tend to discover that what they have is enough.

What looks like chance is often the result of quiet consistency, unseen effort, and readiness meeting opportunity.

The Power of Small Commitments

We underestimate small actions because they do not feel impressive. Thirty minutes. One hour. A single habit. Yet these are the building blocks of lasting change.

A habit formed in a month can shape decades. An hour invested in the body can influence the rest of the day. A simple morning routine can create momentum that carries you forward long after the alarm fades.

Small commitments compound and they do not shout.

Thinking Long Term

True growth requires patience. Reading a book may take hours, but the knowledge remains. Learning a skill may take months, but its impact can reshape a lifetime. When we focus only on immediate results, we miss the deeper rewards that unfold slowly.

Long-term thinking asks for trust.

Trust that effort is not wasted. Trust that consistency matters more than intensity. Trust that starting, even imperfectly, is better than waiting endlessly for certainty.

Just Begin

I believe you do not need to know everything before you start. You do not need perfect conditions. You need willingness, movement, and that first step.

Everything you need to begin is already within reach, focus sharpens it and discipline strengthens it while time reveals it.

The ordinary when approached with intent becomes extraordinary.

And it always starts now.

Made as We Are.

No one chooses their sexuality or their deepest preferences it is not selected from a list, nor shaped by rebellion or defiance. They simply are, as natural and present as breath and as instinctive as belonging.

We are all creatures of one Creator and if we believe that, then we must also believe that nothing about us is accidental. The clay does not question the hands of the Potter and It does not argue its form or demand a different shape. It trusts that it is being made with purpose, care, and knowledge far beyond its own understanding.

Being gay is no different. It is not an error to be corrected or a phase to be outgrown and it is as natural as life itself. To deny it is to deny something deeply human, something woven into the fabric of a person’s being. You cannot ignore what is true and expect peace to follow.

Acceptance must begin within.

Before the world can meet us with understanding, we must first learn to stand comfortably in who we are.

That first act of self-acceptance is not arrogance, it is survival. It is the quiet confidence of knowing that you are here, present, and exist fully in this world.

Living an authentic life takes courage, It asks us to release shame that was never ours to carry. It requires us to trust that being honest with ourselves is not a betrayal of faith, but an expression of it.

When we accept ourselves, we honour the Creator who formed us as we are.

Acceptance does not erase struggle. It does not promise an easy path or universal approval. What it offers instead is freedom. Freedom from hiding, from shrinking, from apologising for taking up space. It allows us to move through life with integrity and truth.

We are all on a journey, every one of us doing the best we can with what we have, carrying histories, hopes, and wounds that shape us. None of us arrives fully formed. We learn, we grow, we stumble, and we try again.

If there is one thing this journey teaches us, it is that compassion matters, towards others, yes, but also towards ourselves, when acceptance becomes our starting point, not our reward, we create space for healing, understanding, and grace.

We were made as we are. And there is nothing more faithful than living in that truth.

Welcome to 2026

Welcome, one and all, to 2026.

As we change our calendars today, many of us quietly hope that something within us will shift as well.

If there is one thing I wish to change, it is how we approach one another. Everyone is navigating unseen complications, trying to make sense of the world around them whilst carrying burdens we may never fully understand.

It is moments like today that kindness is not optional but it is necessary.

This time of year invites reflection.

We look back at what has been and consider what remains unresolved.
I was reminded recently of a verse that spoke about forgetting the past, not as an act of erasure, but as an invitation to release what no longer serves the soul, so that healing can begin.

We are who we are, formed by experience, memory, and grace.
Yet we are also called to be a forward-looking people, and faith teaches us that hope is not passive. It is lived.

Our strength, intelligence, wisdom, and courage are gifts entrusted to us, not for hoarding, but for service. (I read that somewhere on Akin’s blog).

When we respect creation and honour the rhythms of life, we allow what is sacred to flow through us and beyond us.

We cannot spend our days blaming those who came before us for the brokenness we see today.
Responsibility belongs to us who are here now, breathing, believing, and still given time.

As I have grown older, I have learned that circumstances begin to speak differently. What once felt distant becomes deeply personal, and what once felt theoretical becomes a call to action.

This time is ours and ours to steward wisely.
Ours to heal what has been wounded and to restore what has been neglected.

Though change may feel larger than us, faith reminds us that transformation often begins in quiet obedience, in small acts done with love.

As we step into 2026, may we walk with humility and purpose. May we listen more than we speak, forgive more than we judge, and love more than we fear. May we trust that even in uncertainty, we are not abandoned. We are guided. And may this year find us not only hoping for a better world, but becoming the vessels through which that better world is made.