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He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live

Concerning Spiritual Gifts by Kenneth Hagin

My journey to faith in Christ was not smooth sailing. After being confronted on TV with a picture of what an intimate relationship with God could look like, I began to dig into both the Qur’an and the bible. I was trying to prove to myself that the Father-God can be found in the Qur’an and that the bible was an inferior text to the true word of God – full of lies and deceit.

That quest led me to an unexpected place. My heart softened towards Christ. and I began to love His word. I was struck by the similarities of the ancient texts – especially the Abrahamic stories – and slowly found myself reading more of the bible and less of the Qu’ran. The bible had a ring of truth about it that I could not deny.

This was in the Easter holidays of 1988. I went back to boarding school, where I discovered little booklets by American preacher, Kenneth Hagin. Each mini booklet taught on a topic regarding the Christian faith and the work of redemption that Christ did on the cross. I became convicted of my sin and my need for salvation and eventually began saying the sinners prayer at the back of the booklets. I did so every time I read one of the booklets. Until I read another booklet which said one only needed to accept Christ once to be saved.  I stopped saying the sinners’ prayer after that and turned my attention to growing in my faith. This must have been sometime between May – June of 1988.

Not long after I found another booklet lying around, this time on the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and the gift of speaking in tongues. I think the booklet was called “Concerning Spiritual Gifts”.  I found it on the Internet Archive here. Same as all the previous booklets, I never actually knew who this booklet belonged to. I would just see them lying on a desk or on a bed and because they were so small, I could read and return them in a matter of minutes. This was a private, personal quest with no external protagonists that I was aware of. Nobody gave me the books, nobody discussed their contents with me, nobody knew about my internal journey to faith. This fact was to become very important later on in my journey of faith.

So I read this booklet on why the baptism of the Holy Spirit was an essential gift for anyone who wanted to go deeper in their walk with Christ and that the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit is evidenced by the gift of tongues. He also said this gift is freely available to anyone who asked God for it in prayer and no special priest or rites were needed.

So, desirous of a deeper walk with God, I took Kenneth Hagin at his word and found a quiet spot – a walk-in storage cupboard in my classroom – to pray and ask God for this gift.

And I encountered God for the first time.  As I was praying and thanking God for this gift, I felt a warmth envelope wrap itself around me. I felt surrounded by a bright light and I began to cry uncontrollably as I felt weights of sin and oppression fall off me. And as I prayed and thanked God for the gift, I felt my tongue begin to change – first slowly and only a few words, and then a torrent. A flood of words in another language came tumbling out of my mouth like a torrent. It wasn’t a language that I was familiar with, neither did I understand what I was saying, but it felt ferocious and spiritual and I wept and wept and wept as I prayed in the spirit for things I did not know about in the flesh, things my mind did not comprehend, but which felt weighty and impactful.

When I was done praying and crying, I came out of the cupboard back into my classroom where evening prep was going on and I recollect one of my classmates asking where had I been and she remarked that my face was “glowing”.  This made me smile inwardly as I remembered that Moses’ face glowed when he came down from the mountain, having met with God and collected the ten commandments. I didn’t say anything to her or to anyone else about my spiritual encounter with God, as like I said earlier, I didn’t know who the books belonged to and who was a born-again Christian.  I was on my personal journey with Christ.

Later that year, when I went home for the summer holidays, I understood why it was essential that my journey to faith in Christ had to be a solo experience, born entirely out of personal conviction and devoid of influence from anyone.

A tale of two awards

Earlier this year in the month of March, I was presented with the award on the left having completed a year-long entrepreneurship programme for African women.

I was somewhat bemused by the title “Perfect Score”. What does this even mean? I wondered.

Then I reflected on another award I was presented with one Mothering Sunday, also in the March of that year, which is shown on the right, and I was struck by the difference between the two.

My Perfect Score award was for “earning all the available programme points over the course of the 12 month AWEC programme”.

It is indeed possible to earn a “Perfect Score” for an endeavour where the criteria is clearly defined. The process of earning the award is logical and transparent and can easily be verified and justified.

However, it is practically impossible to earn a “perfect score” for being a mum.

For one, who is to say how this is to be measured? How many dirty nappy changes would qualify? How many school plays attended, meals cooked, noses wiped and clothes mended would earn one points?

When the children become teenagers, how many miles of driving from one “very important” social event to the other? How many late nights waiting up for them to come home? How many hours of consoling teenage angst and drying their tears?

On the 12 month course, one would forfeit points for not attending key meetings, and for not submitting assignments by stated deadlines.

As a mother, in contrast, how many points does one lose for failing to protect them from danger? From not serving the most nutritious meals or for bursts of irrational anger?

When it comes to motherhood, perfection is unattainable and must be left at the door as we stumble and fumble our way through the nebulous process of childrearing, gyrating from moments of elation and euphoria to deepest darkest despair and unbearable pain.

Not only is perfection unattainable as a mom, it is also, frankly undesirable.

You see, children are keenly aware of their own imperfections and so allowing them to witness your struggles and triumphs will help them navigate their own challenges from a much more healthier place.

As a mother, I maintain my sanity by embracing my imperfections and striving to do better next time.

I can only pray that God will protect my children from the worst consequences of my many imperfections so they can be beautifully, and confidently imperfect for their own kids.