Prayerfully Preparing for 2008

Praying The Scriptures
I went to The Scriptures this morning to literally pray some Scriptures. I always love to go through the book of Isaiah, and to receive instruction therein. The book is full of so many promises. Since this is a Word based blog, you’ll permit me to document one or two of those promises.

Chapter 51 verse 3
For The Lord shall comfort Zion: He will comfort all her waste places: and He will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of The Lord: joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving and the voice of melody.

On every occasion that I read and pray this promise, I replace Zion with my own name.

Chapter 41 verse 10
Fear not, for I am with you: be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness.

Chapter 44 verse 3
I will pour water on him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground. I will pour My spirit upon the dry ground: I will pour My spirit upon thy seed, and My blessing upon thy offspring

In praying this scripture, my utterance is that God Himself would fulfill every thirsting, and pour floods of blessings and remembrance on all and every present scarcity.

Chapter 43 verse 18 and 19
Forget about what has happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I am about to do something brand new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I am making a road through the desert, rivers in the deserts

And as I completed quiet time, one other scripture shouted at me: chapter 55 verse 12: for you shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace…

In 2008 I choose to continue to believe Him for yet more of the evidence of His promises.

Won't you?

Celebrating Christ-mass

I am persuaded without a shadow of doubt that my Christmas is better celebrated in these parts, without the turkey and the stuffing, the shopping and the Christmas credit card debts.

I remember my first Christmas in Ghana in 2003. Christmas Eve was enjoyed at a BBQ at a friend's house. I returned home at 4am. Jumped out of bed at 8am to go to the Christmas day service in church. Came back from church and slept.

Ruka woke up again at around 3pm, and went for Christmas lunch (Motherland style with plenty of local delicacies, full roasted lamb, and well, let’s just say plenty of vin rouge and vin blanc). She returned home at 11pm.

Then I thought: yes – that’s the way to do it.

Christmas 2007
Christmas 2007 is going to be massive fun. What am I saying, it is already proving to be massive fun.

I am taking time out of work (yes, you read right), and I can’t wait for the full party season to set in. In fact the party, enjoyment and relaxation season has actually already started. We do a lot of BBQ’s here, and I went to one on Saturday evening. What fun that was.

So, there’s going to be a bit of golfing, some Anomabo Beach Resort time, yet more BBQ’s, and some me time.

New Year's Eve?
As for the 31st night, it’s going to be a ball – there’s only one party to be at in Accra on that night, and guess who has an invite?

But of course I must start the evening of new year's eve in church praising and praying - forgeting those things which are behind, and reaching forth to take hold of what is before me, even as I press for the higher calling that's called up for me in Jesus Christ.

So you see, I have determined to celebrate Christ-mass, enjoying the abundance of the friendships, love and family that He has surrounded me with in Ghana.

How are you celebrating Christmas?

Grace

Reflecting on 2007
It is 4.20am in the morning, I am in Nairobi Kenya, and I am reflecting.

I am reflecting on the year that is 2007. I am remembering the triumphs during the year, and I am praying that the sorrows of the year that is will not rise a second time, for the Bible says in the book of Nahum: affliction shall not rise again a second time.

I am remembering that somewhere in the Bible it says that: "I have been young and now I am old. I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging for bread.”

I am remembering my late father. I am remembering his small beginnings and I remembering his astonishing end, and even as I do that I reflect how true the verse in The Bible is that reads something like: though your beginning may be small your end will be very great.

I am reflecting that when the year started and I had just embarked on my MBA course I honestly never dared to believe or anticipate that I would be awarded the distinctions and merits I have hitherto been awarded on the course modules I have taken thus far. And I am remembering that all things work together for the good of them that are called according to His Name.

I am wallowing in the Grace that has brought me to where I am today. Even as I write I lay in bed in a luxury hotel surrounded by all things opulent and comforting, and I am thinking my parents would be very proud.

I am remembering one of the prayers that my pastor often prays which says: you will go to great places, you will do great exploits.

I am remembering the Grace that saw me through many travels in safety during the year; the same Grace that introduced me to new friendships, deepened some existing ones, and yet still sifted some others.

And I am acknowledging the wisdom and necessity of the verse in the Bible which says in all things we should give thanks.

Thank You.

Humpty Dumpty

And Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
I’ve had a few doors shut in my face over the past few weeks, and boy has it been tough. Insomnia. Tears. Anxiety. Loss of appetite (well, that’s never a bad thing for a woman….).

But I’ve also had great open doors. At a recent business trip, I can honestly say that I walked into every high office in the country that I visited which I wanted and dared to walk into – and I was given the audience I sought.

So I wondered: ‘Erm. Hello, God? It’s me, Ruka. Can I ask a question? How come several doors of fortune and favour can open effortlessly, and at the same time, the major opportunities and doors that I have sought to enter over the year slam on my face as I dare to enter in?”

My negative emotions were even more heightened every time I entered church. As I listened to the words of the praise songs, and listened to The Word as it was preached, my soul and essence yelled a huge ‘when’, ‘how’, ‘really?’. I am told it happens to everyone.

Rejecting Despair
Then I determined that well, I probably could do with the loss of appetite for a few more weeks and lose a few pounds, but I certainly could not deal with the insomnia anymore (listen, it shows on your face – Heaven forbid for much longer!), and really, my eyes are really too exquisite and delicate to be consistently tingly; and no, all that anxiety? I can’t really deal with it.

So, finally, I settle down. I settle down to hope, I settle down to sensibleness, and I settle down to expediency.

Remember
Someone spoke to me this week and in passing said: God is not merciless, He is merciful. I took her at His Word, so to speak.

Bebe Winans wrote a song about Humpty Dumpty. Well, you know how it goes: Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall; and Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Oh dear. Poor old Humpty.

But Mr Winans goes on….It wasn’t that he fell so hard and so bad that they couldn’t put Humpty together again, it was just that the king’s men were calling on the wrong king. For we know a King Who can put your life back together no matter how great the fall.

And that The King, The Most High God, is still mending broken pieces.

So, if ever you feel like Humpty Dumpty, Mr Winans advises, if you’ve been broken from a fall, remember that He’s just and so faithful and He’ll be there to fix it all. Remember that He is Love and so faithful.

Remember Still
Bebe also sings about Mary. The one who had a little Lamb. Jesus is that Lamb.

He further advises that someone should tell Jack and Jill to get off that hill on their search for a pail of water. Had they not come across The Living Water?

And Little Boy Blue? Tell him, give Him your troubles. He'll take your blues away.

Mother Hubbard? If you trust in Jesus, He’ll put food in your cupboard.

Fables and Fairy Tales
Fairy tales, Mr Winans says, reflect some truths that sometimes happen to us all.

Maybe I had to have a fall, be a little blue, and search the cupboard of my soul to get to this place of hope.

Mindset and Nuances - Reading the Unspoken

Still Exploring
I have been exploring the issue of culture, cultural differences and nuance in my head over the past couple of weeks. I guess I am trying to find answers and/or understand my own mindset better, as well as trying to appreciate those of others.

So in turn I went into my books for help. MBA Summer School learning diary, in fact. The Summer School module was on Managing People – and I posted something on that enlightening experience in August.

My Learning Diary
So I turn to the Learning Diary. The first four bullet points shout at me. Here goes:

1. People are governed by different and complex fundamentals – upbringing, culture, exposure, race, gender and therefore managing people is an art
2. In managing people, remember the cultural context – some cultures have a culture of deference and others have a culture of negotiation. Normally, Southern Cultures display deference and Northern cultures display negotiation. These translate into organizational cultures
3. Men and women communicate differently. Women tend to collaborate and cooperate. Men automatically assume that there is a hierarchy to observe
4. People from different cultures and nationalities communicate differently. Watch out for the nuances

Deep.

And yet still very infant
I am slightly amused that, at this age, I am still infant in my thought and expectation that the people I come into contact with are governed by values equal to those I have been brought up to hold dear. And I think many of us probably fall into the same category.

That’s why we can be surprised when we hear that a university student is a student by day and prostitute by night; and when we learn that that most respected CEO is actually overseeing the cooking up of books to inflate the profit and loss account.

All well and good, but what am I driving at? The notion of differing values and mindsets still.

I met a renowned Ghanaian writer the other day. We talked around these same issues, and, as women do, homed in on the issue of relationships and marriage. Her finale?

(i) Men and women marry for different reasons
(ii) In Southern cultures people often marry principally to attain social status, economic status and to have a family, instead of principally for friendship, love and companionship.

Wow. That second point kind of threw me away. And I wandered where that left me.

Or, should I say, I discovered a possible explanation for where I am today…

Laugh at me.

On Managing Change and Being a Legal Alien

Confessions of a Blogger
Okay. I confess. I kind of got scared last week when I was posting the entry. I felt that the posting may have been too heavy and I wanted to make it light hearted – so I changed it a little.
Well, bloggers rights and prerogative et al, I changed my mind. Here is what I actually meant to post last week.

Legal Alien Revisited: On the Psychologist's Chair
You know the song by Sting: An Englishman in New York? The chorus goes something like this: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an Englishman in New York.” I am improvising that song for me to go like this: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an….” Actually, there’s a problem now for I don’t quite know whether to add “Nigerian in Ghana” to that or “British in Ghana” or “London Nigerian in Ghana”. Confused? Well, that makes two of us.

I had another session with the Psychologist yesterday. This time though it was less intense – it was fun in fact. In fact it was cool. So, there I am on the couch, all relaxed and thankful that since the last session with the Psychologist, by the grace of God, healing finally came. Relief.

So very useful?
So he asks of my opinion as to why the session was so useful. “I think I just finally realized that I was not weak in feeling all those negative emotions. I realized that those emotions were and are legitimate, and the guilt left me. As the guilt left I could finally let go of the negative emotions and thank God for giving me the opportunity to have known Kojo.” I added that I was still bewildered as to how many people seemed to have coped so well and so quickly with their bereavement.

Then, it happened.
“Coped so well?” he responded. “What do you mean by that?’’ So I explain how when my father passed ten years ago the company that I worked for, realizing that my life might be in turmoil for a while, offered to give me leave of absence from work for ‘’as long as it takes”. In the interim I only took two weeks off anyway (being a Muslim, Chief was buried within 24 hours of his passing and no, I could not get a flight to Lagos in time for his burial). The point is, they did not expect things to go back to normal with me for a while.

Bereavement, Change Management and Culture
I then remembered that when a former colleague passed recently in the UK, everyone, and I mean everyone, had been offered counseling and leave of absence for as long as they needed it, and, even from here in Ghana, I could feel that people had been so affected by the colleagues passing. It was a slow grind for everyone to try to get to grips with what had occurred.

The difference is here, well, everyone just seems to be getting on with it, and here I am, or was as the case may be, struggling with coping in amongst super coping people.

“Might it be that what you are actually trying to deal with is cultural differences, and coping with those cultural differences?”

Ah. Now, that’s an explanation and an avenue I had never ventured into.

So, I began to think of all my legal alien experiences.
Well, I listed all of those at the last posting so I won’t bore you with the details again. What I will say is that at that moment I came to realize the ever apparent need to change manage in each and everyday of life and circumstance.

Change management.
In management consultancy, we preach about it all the time – and I mean all the time. Actually let me just make this really personal and admit that I preach all about it all the time during the course of my work.

But. When it comes to applying it in our everyday lives, we seem to forget the fact that we are managing change and disregard the need for an interim period, a transition period, a period of adjustment and a period of coping. In the end, in resisting and not managing a change so obvious and in your face, you find yourself caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Might it be that what you are actually trying to deal with is cultural differences, and coping with those cultural differences?”

I exhaled.
I began to think about some of the adjustments I had had to make over the past four years – and the adjustments I had failed to make which were really pulling me into, well, let’s just say brief moments of confusion coupled with frustration, exasperation and sometimes pure stress.

I’ll start with the time keeping
Where I relocated from, you either work flexi hours, or you work standard hours – you don’t have the option of mixing the two. So I come here and there are no flexi hours. Work begins at 8am.

There’s the small issue of the traffic though. A 20 minutes drive to work could take an hour at least and an hour and a half on average. So it means waking up at 4.15 and leaving home at 5.45. So I am in the office on time – and, because of the evening traffic, I leave the office at 7pm for the gym and get home say around 9.15 – averagely.

I don’t need any lifestyle guru to tell me that that kind of a lifestyle leads to well, let’s just say, many negatives – in amongst trying to have a productive home, work and social life.

But it never occurred to me until recently that, at this level, my employer is not interested in me marking time, but more so in my productivity within the parameters of the outputs and outcomes earmarked for me to achieve in any one financial year. I just put more and more pressure on myself – because I had to, or so I thought, be in at 8am at the latest.

Let’s go on to the genderisation of everyday living
I can’t help being a woman. But when I walk into some client meetings with a male colleague, the assumption is that all the knowledge, authority and information for the meeting, the project, the assignment is fully and only imbibed in my male colleague. It could never be imbibed in me of course, me being a mere woman.

In the moments when you do assert your authority, whether that’s through the insight and ability you display in your sphere of professional discipline or whether it’s in the strength of your socio-economic achievements, the same men in the majority of cases (clients, friends and enemies alike) are, shall I say, somewhat unsettled and some women will even tell you to ‘slow down’.

Help.

But I don’t want to understand that mindset at all, and it’s been challenging to say the least. Accepting that mindset to my mind would be a scorn to the vision, love and toil of my earthly father who so very ably pursued excellence in his endeavours and spurred all of his children on, educating us to the highest standards available.

And most of all, accepting that mindset would also I believe be in contempt of the purpose and gifting which my Heavenly Father has called me to.

So what am I learning to do?
I am learning to manage the change by showing respect, regard and honour to the character and person of everyone I come into contact with – man, woman, child. My hope is that they would see that despite any and every achievement, I am still human. I am still respectful, considerate and thoughtful of all humanity. How could one not be?

The problem is though sometimes, in a culture of power and status deference as you have here, that is, more often than not, seen as a sign of weakness.

Help.

Ending on a light hearted note
I had dinner with a friend last night. And we were talking about this very issue – cultural differences and the challenges these pose to every day living.

My friend is having issues with the way their staff cannot, it would seem, think outside of the box. My response was that people are illimitable by their exposure, and by the same vein, people limited by their lack of exposure - and that's why travel, whether that's regional, national or international, is so important. What is common sense to you may not be common sense to anyone else. The systems, processes and procedures that are standard to you might very well be alien to someone else who has never even left the shores of Ghana. It’s about continuous mentoring. An 'Aha' moment occurs.

And thinking of continous mentoring...
I am reminded that our Lord Jesus Christ is continually mentoring us.

Well, let me speak for myself. I don’t always get it right. Sometimes I obey and sometimes, well, let's just say I miss the mark. I am not exposed to the things He is exposed to for His ways are not my ways, as the Bible says and that means that because I cannot see the end of today from tomorrow and the day after that, I sometimes make decisions and mistakes that He would have me not make because He does see today from tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that.

That means even He is having to exercise patience, exercise mercy and exercise love unto me even as He mentors me.

I guess what the Psycologist is making me realise is that, in managing the change of my new life in Ghana, Iwill also need to exercise patience, mercy and love to those whose exposures, mindsets and experiences are different to mine, and whose responses and reactions to me, are, well, let me say, different to what I might expect.

Aha. I'm a grown up now...

A Legal Alien

You know the song by Sting: An Englishman in New York? The chorus goes something like this: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an Englishman in New York.”

I am improvising that song for me to go like this: “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien, I’m an….” Actually, there’s a problem now for I don’t quite know whether to add “Nigerian in Ghana” to that or “British Nigerian in Ghana” or “London Nigerian in Ghana”. Confused? Well, that makes two of us.

So, with Sting's melody ringing in my head, I began to think of all my legal alien experiences.

Heard the one about the gardener?
At 6am he calls on the phone. “Madam, I am coming this morning.” “Please it’s too early to be calling me. Call me back after 7.30.” The gardener never showed again – apparently offended that his madam had told him that a 6am phone call to say that he would be reporting to work was too early.

Heard the one about the roundabout?
Here I was, approaching a roundabout and I stop, as there is another vehicle actually on the roundabout and I am waiting for him to move on so I can move in. Guess what? On the round about, he slows down for me and stops and gestures to me to move in. Bewildered, I shook my head and said at him: ‘’You have right of way. Move. This is how accidents start.” The guy angrily uttered words I care not to repeat. I am sure that he thought I was off my rocker.

And the one about the renowned private hospitals?
A friend and her colleague go to donate blood. The nurse’s gloves are stained with the blood. My friend remarks that she would like the nurse to change his gloves before taking her blood. His response? “What’s your problem? Isn’t it your colleague’s blood?”

Another friend’s son goes for his yellow fever vaccinations. The nurse is only able to inject in half of the vaccine – the injection just won’t push down any further. My friend realized that they are using the wrong type of injections for the vaccines.

And the one about the driver?
He gets a premium salary, for the comfort of working longer hours. Perhaps twice maybe three times the salary of the average driver. You give him a tip at least twice a week but unfailingly every month there’s at least one urgent family incident that necessitates him asking for an advance, or a loan, or both.

And the one about the African time?
Meetings do not generally start on time – period. Thirty minutes late, at least. The Africa Business Leaders Forum was held here last week – note, Africa Business Leaders, so a whole load of people from Africa had been invited and paid to attend the forum. Opening day. 8.30 start, to be opened by the President. 8.30 come and goes. Not even the organizers had arrived at 7.45am. The start was delayed by at least an hour and a half. At the morning breakout session I attended on the first day, three of the panel speakers did not turn up – and we start two hours late.

And the one about the ladies at the till in supermarkets?
I soon realized that there’s no point in losing your temper. They serve you, but they serve you at the most leisurely of paces – and they serve you whilst they chat with the adjacent cashier. Forget the fact that all you want to do is pay for your groceries and get out of the supermarket.

And the one about the carpenter who makes you a table that wobbles?
“Madam, I don’t know why you are annoyed. This table is okay. Look at it. It is standing. You can put things on it”

And the one about ….

Imagine how our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ must have felt for all those 33 years on earth?

Rejoice

And joy is creeping back in.
It started to creep in from Wednesday evening, after a one-to-one counselling session with the Clinical Psychologist.

Kojo’s funeral was on Saturday and I had determined that I was not going to view his body in the coffin at the church service. Thirty minutes to the time to close the coffin, I had an urge to view. I asked if a colleague would go to the front with me.

And file pass Kojo’s body I did.

Honestly Incomprehensible
I returned to my seat and from thereon until that session with the Psychologist, all I have been thinking about is the body that I saw and all I have been asking is “What is Kojo’s body doing in a coffin?’’ It all was very incomprehensible to me. Honestly.

So the questions raged in my head. How and why could and would Kojo pass. I battled with issues of hope, faith and dreams. I thought of his mother and his widow and I thought of how death had cruelly dashed many of their hopes, dreams and, without doubt, doused their faith. I can honestly say that Saturday was the most terrible day for our firm and I pray that such affliction will not rise against us a second time.

Anomabo Beach Resort
To get away from it all the next day I drove to Anomabo Beach Resort with a friend and her son. Monday was a public holiday here so we decided to make good use of the opportunity. I love Anomabo Beach Resort – the rustic little resort that it is. I have always been able to unwind and refresh there. But even in Anomabo the emotional roller coaster continued. Worse still, I felt immense guilt for asking so many questions, for I felt I was questioning my Creator. Crisis.

So I asked to see the Psychologist on Tuesday. On Wednesday he made time to see me. Even a few minutes to the session I know I needed mega comforting – I has bought six portions of those sickly sweet but nevertheless delicious Lebanese sweets/pastries – and gobbled them down as I sat in my car in the car park of the doctor’s surgery.

But the session was immensely helpful

"It takes time to heal"
"You need not feel guilty for asking your Creator why this happened"
"Your emotions are raw right now so allow yourself to feel them"
"Don’t be too quick to seek closure"

It was all so very comforting.

Over the next twenty four hours as I absorbed the session with the Psychologist, I wondered why everyone else who knew I was bereaved had rather not comforted me but spoke at me about the situation.

"It was God’s will. God allowed it"
"Be thankful that he has been spared the toils of this world"
"Were you close to him?"
"It is well"
"Did he know The Lord?"

Crisis. True as some of those words maybe, they did not heal my pain. All that these words did was to make me feel that I should not be on the emotional roller coaster that I was on. Guilt. Fault. Shame.

The Crooked Manager
This morning I read one of my favourite stories in the Bible – Luke 16 – when Jesus tells the story of the Crooked Manager. In The Message translation, of course. I particularly love verses 8 and 9:

"Now here's a surprise: The master praised the crooked manager! And why? Because he knew how to look after himself. Streetwise people are smarter in this regard than law-abiding citizens. They are on constant alert, looking for angles, surviving by their wits. I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you'll live, really live, and not complacently just get by on good behaviour."

Use every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival. I love that line.

Knowing that many of us would be in shock following Kojo’s sudden passing, our firm had organised for us to have access to a qualified counsellor in a Clinical Psychologist – and why not make use of that. Use every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival.

On needing counselling but at the same time being sane
I have boldly and confidently let those close to me know that I am seeing a Clinical Psychologist, despite what they might think. On another note I noticed that there is not one single sign at the entrance of the Psychologist’s surgery that describes his practice, open hours etc, as you would see at any other professional premise. I now understand that it is intentional – because of the taboo with psychology and psychiatry here, many clients would not want it to be known that they are actually seeing a psychologist less people think they are mad.

Africa. People. The world.

The merits of being practical
There is something about being practical yet sometimes we hide behind religion, instead of being practical. Even at Anomabo I had the opportunity to think again on the merits of being practical.

There we were on the beach. My friend’s son and I in the sea and we see a whole bunch of white people huddled together and the life guards running towards them (why the resort was full of white people less us, I will never understand. Why don’t our people take such breaks? At $38 per night/per room for a double, air-conditioned room on a beautiful resort overlooking the ocean, can you go wrong? Anyway, maybe the average black person just unwinds in a different way).

Back to the story
So it turns out that some white guy whilst swimming had suddenly dislocated his shoulder. His pain was tangible. Two hours passed and his wife, son and lifeguards administered first aid and massaged his shoulder with ice-packs whilst he laid still - like broccoli.

Then, one of the waiters at the open restaurant comes to me and asks if I could move my car. “The ambulance coming for this gentleman will need access to the beach through the gate where your car is now parked.” “Opari,’’ I thought. My Yoruba brothers and sisters, you know what I mean..

So I thought. Medical insurance. That’s practicality for you. The medical team drove two hours and a half from Accra to Anomabo to administer para-medical assistance and drive the patient back to Accra to a hospital.

Jabs versus Bars
I then also remembered a decade or so ago when I was travelling to Accra from London and a friend had asked if I had bought my malaria tablets and taken my jabs. At about 150 odd pounds for a series of jabs I really was not going to take any jabs. “God is my healer, ‘’ I told her. “He is,”” she responded,” but prevention is better than cure.” All I could think about was how much fun I could have with 150 pounds in my pocket in Accra.

When Kojo passed, apparently our partners had thought that the counselling should either be conducted through a qualified counsellor or a pastor. I am not sure how and why they decided on the qualified counsellor but I am glad that they did, for not all pastors are counsellors.

In Luke 16 I believe our Saviour Jesus Christ charges us to be practical: “I want you to be smart in the same way—but for what is right—using every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival, to concentrate your attention on the bare essentials, so you'll live, really live, and not complacently just get by on good behavior."

Not complacently just get by on good behaviour. I liken this statement to a charge on the practice of being practical. So I am rejoicing because the Lord Himself is using a Clinical Psychologist to help me through my bereavement. And, no, I am not mad.

And by the way, why is rejoice not spelt rejoyce? Who cares? I feel Joy.

The Coming Spring

Understanding Seasons
My favourite one in the UK is Spring, and in Ghana, the cool season – which is around the British summer time period. But I’ve had to go back to my posting of July 16 to find words for the season I'm in.

The season has seen me asking many, many questions. I’ve raised questions to myself, my mentors and of course to God. With one of my mentors, those question time sessions, to be very honest, have actually been LOADS of fun - girly dinners and lunches with, well, plenty South African vin to wash the delicious food down.

But in the midst of these times, I voiced and raised queries on life’s issues to my mentor that I previously would not even have dared to think about let alone voice. But guess what? She had, at some point or the other in her own seasons, asked very similar questions. The guilt eroded.

People just like us
This morning I thought of the woman with the issue of blood. I thought of the Shunammite woman, and I thought of the Syrophoenician woman, and even Mary and Martha when their brother Lazarus passed momentarily. Sorry, very gender-biased today.

Only God knows the mental and emotional turmoil that passed through their grey matter. And I think the point of the record of their life stories is that they are people just like us.

With the woman with the issue of blood (Mark 5, Matthew 8), the Bible records that she had spent every penny she had on doctors but none had been able to help her. I can’t even begin to imagine her grief.

All that money spent on sanitary pads – or whatever they used in those days. And then I am thinking, was she married? If so, that probably means that it would have been somewhat difficult to have sexual relations with her husband, which would have placed an incredible strain on the marriage. Even if she wasn’t, any chance of that would have quickly eroded given the ever present hemorrhage, anaemia, tampons and sanitary pads. God help us.

But God help us He does and did for each of those women came into contact with God’s grace at some point during their low seasons and, voila, breakthrough.

And now for Mireille Guiliano and the July 16 posting. Go ahead and read/re-read. More like spiritual gastronomy, I think.

Transition to The Other Side

One of my colleagues passed a few weeks ago. Kojo Atiase.

Kojo had been ill briefly. On that Monday afternoon I had a 3pm meeting with a colleague. Half an hour to the time he came to me to ask if we could meet at 7pm instead – Kojo’s wife had just called to say that he had been admitted to the Teaching Hospital and was in a bad way.

7pm. My colleague was still not back in the office. I called him. “I’m on my way home – I didn’t like the way I saw Kojo. He’s in a bad way.” Now I became alarmed. This colleague was very pensive. Apparently Kojo had suddenly become paralysed on Sunday and they’d brought him to the hospital. Kojo could barely speak.

The fateful Tuesday morning.
Another colleague who is very close to Kojo went very early to the hospital the following morning. He came back weeping like a baby. Wailing, in fact. On the floor. I became scared.

Kojo was so ill that he could not talk, could not open his eyes, as well as being paralysed. Help me out here, for Kojo is 28. A lively, charming, intelligent and yet very respectful young man. Liked by everyone

We informed the partners of our firm. A few calls were made to the hospital. Whatever it takes, at whatever cost, please do it was their message to the consultants who were taking care of Kojo.

A few hours later I made a call to their department. Any more news? I enquired. “It’s bad,” my colleague said. I put the phone down and walked over to their department.

At this stage all I thought was that, at the very worst, Kojo’s condition had deteriorated even further. I went to their department to enquire on what actually the news was. I had not even noticed that everyone was unusually standing, pensive, in the open plan area. “Any news?’ “He’s gone,’’ was the response I got. “Gone where?’’ I asked. “He’s gone,” was all that was repeated to me. "Gone where?'' I asked again.

Bereavement
So Kojo passed. Shock. Distress. Alarm. So striking was the impact that Kojo had made on each and everyone of us that the firm had to organize for a Clinical Psychologist to counsel us all. The sessions are still ongoing, from group counseling to one-to-one sessions.

I attended one of the group sessions. And I came to realize that, in not being able to comprehend why and how someone like Kojo could pass as such a young age, I was actually upset with God.

Yes, I know. Who am I to be upset with God and what right to I have to question Him? Well, I’ll probably be the first to admit that I don’t have any right. But what else could I think? God is The Creator of the Universe, and I just could not help wandering why He had let this happen?

The Clinical Psychologist made me realize though that the emotion that I am feeling is ‘normal’, so to speak. He said that many of us who knew and loved Kojo would be in denial; others in shock; others angry (at God, at Kojo, at themselves) and others yet still very sad. “Well, I am not alone then”, I thought.

The Obituary
Kojo’s obituary is in today’s newspaper, with the lovely picture from his wedding day, not even a year ago. Beloved Kojo. His funeral is on Saturday 13th. What a distressing event that would be.

All that resounds in my head is the words of my pastor to me in this regard: You will not always understand Him but You cannot afford to be separated from Him.

Sunday Service at the Beach

Went to the beach yesterday, with a friend and her family. A lovely little private beach they had discovered years back in Kokrobite, a few kilometers to the west of Accra. It’s not their private beach, but they had found the small quiet and private spot a few years back and kept going back there every so often.

I was with my friend on Friday night for a girly evening, and she mentioned that she and her family were going on Sunday morning and would I like to go with them. As usual, I declined her kind offer – “I’ve got to go to church on Sunday.”

My kind and usually soft spoken friend got unusually annoyed: “Ruka, going to church is not a register. You don’t go there every Sunday to tick the box that you’ve been. You can miss church once in a while, for heaven’s sake.”

Struck by her curious irritation, I paused. Then I said, “You know what? You are right, I am going with you.”

And what fun we had. Family, fellowship and fun – in a different form. Got on the surf board, got my hair wet, got sand in my hair, played with her children, discussed matter of the world with her and her husband, enjoyed the beauty of creation, watched some local residents perform a traditional dance.

It was all so very, very lovely and very, very uplifting.

Hope.. and Sweet Salone

Democracy and Development
I am excited about the recent turn of political events in Sierra Leone. I’ve had a particular affection for Sierra Leone since the late 1990s when I first started business travel there. I relished the warmth and friendliness of her people, her astonishing beaches, and the delicious, mouth watering range of seafood. For many years thereafter I actually wanted to relocate to Freetown.

As I laid on the Mauritian beach this week and soaked in the natural and stunning landscape, I wondered what was so different about this wonderful landscape to that of Sierra Leone, for on the face of it there was really not much difference. To many Mauritius is a magnificent, glorious island – and I know that few people would describe Sierra Leone as such.

But as I looked more closely around me, even along the beach front of the hotel I was staying, I had the answer to my question. To my left and to my right were a dozen odd hotel gardeners and cleaners, tending to the landscape and cleaning-up the beach front, free of the wastage of hotel guests. That’s maintenance for you. Then I thought of the one-hour long drive from Mauritius’ international airport to the hotel. The second difference would have to be the social and economic infrastructure. A fantastic road network, pot-hole free, and an undeniably buoyant and prosperous business sector. It is certainly a delightful and hassle free venture to be a visitor in this country – and without doubt that is the particular intention of the Mauritian government.

When Poverty is so very tangible
I always say that of all the countries I have visited on the African continent, Sierra Leone strikes me as the leading one in which poverty is tangible from the moment you touch down at the airport. In Accra, Dar es Salaam, Nairobi and even Lagos, you may have to drive say one, two or three square miles before you come into contact with abject poverty. My personal experience of Sierra Leone is very different, and I ache for the suffering that I have seen to date amongst the ordinary folk of that country. From the maimed twenty something year old who looks like a forty year old begging for a dollar in the corrugated iron roofed waiting room at the helipad in the airport, to the young seemingly able bodied but unemployed young man you see, loitering and planted up on a tree at 3pm on a working day, on your way to the sea front to catch the hovercraft across from the airport to Freetown. It is a sorry tale.

And it is so because our political leaders have time and time again let us down. I am convinced that political gluttony and the want for despotic power has been the root of Sierra Leone’s economic, social and political woes of the past decades.

Reconstruction and Development
When I first visited Sierra Leone in 1998, though poverty was rife, there was a determination amongst the public servants I worked with to birth positive social and economic change in Sierra Leone. And that urgency was also evident within the donor community who so very readily disbursed hundreds of millions of grants across sectors in the country – I should know, I was tasked to undertake a number of pre and post -disbursement audits of such multi-million pound grants during that time.

But I don’t see that spirit of urgency, that hunger to see change, in the public sector anymore, less, of course, a handful of groups and sectors. There is lethargy around the place, and there is also, forgive me to say, a thick air of mendacity around which was not so heavily prevalent during those times.

It’s a pity because things were just not that bad a decade or so ago.

Guest houses and well, hotels
There were few hotels in Freetown then but I remember there were a number of basic but decent guest houses – one particular one that we stayed in on several occasions in Babadorie (yes, I know – not particularly a tourist district but we appreciated where we were and why we were in Sierra Leone in the first place as public sector reform consultants), was spotlessly clean – though very basic in amenities. The staff were incredibly friendly and warm – and eager to please. Water flowed most of the time and although there were frequent power failures, at least you could be certain of ten to twelve hours of power per day – and for the average Sierra Leonean that meant that they could plan their days better – cooking, working, etc, etc. Even if there was no power, we were happy to rely on candle light. On many occasions I very readily and contentedly lunched with my counterparts at the Ministry of Finance and the Central Bank – at the local equivalents of what we in Ghana call ‘chop bars’. The chop bars were clean and you could confidently enjoy a meal in the surroundings

And since 2002?
The Sierra Leone I have come to know though after the official end of the war since 2002 is, regrettably as I see it, a poorer nation. Some of those same guest houses have closed down, those that still exist are of an even poorer standard than they were seven odd years ago, and even the new ones are really nothing to write home about. All, and I mean all, fall short of acceptable standards of cleanliness – I have on many occasions had mice as room mates in all four of the hotels that I return to on business travel – plus the musty rooms, soiled carpets, not-so clean bed sheets, cockroaches and mildewed walls.

And as for lunching at the local chop bar – not so fast. Most of them don’t have running water now, so to my mind the risk is just too great. One of my colleagues fell ill with typhoid during a recent visit - another develops severe skin rashes during each visit.

And the helicopter shuttle from the airport to Freetown? Well, maybe I was younger and more fearless a decade or so ago, but I am certain the seven minutes ride back then was not as fraught with danger as they have become – at least the helicopters (yes, the same ones were in use until the recent ban following the fatal crash of earlier on this year) had not depreciated as much then as they have now. And, yes, I mustn’t forget to add – there are no seat belts, no life jackets, not ventilation less the open windows which were in themselves a danger, and no, there is no head gear to protect your ears.

Whoever said that corporate life was all fun and games?

Corruption has been at an unacceptable level, poverty has been even more tangible, and the gap between the rich and the poor is thick and ample. Freetown is over populated with internally displaced people but without the ensuing public services and infrastructure to match the inflows. Public service delivery? You just don’t get a sense that the government is doing anything at all for the people.

Two or three years ago at church service one Sunday morning at a church in Brookfields the pastor led us in prayer. He said we should pray that God would remove the reproach from Sierra Leone. And pray we did.

I echo the same prayer today for Sierra Leone, and pray that the new Government will place national needs, the needs of the citizenry that voted them into office ahead of their own personal wants and needs.

I raise a toast of hope to the people and country of Sierra Leone.

The Run

I went for a run this morning. Wanted to savor in the beach, the turquoise colored sea-water. Savor the peace, the breeze, the beauty of creation.

Decided to do six laps along the sea length path – the sand is way too soft here to run on. On my fifth lap I tripped badly – but did not fall.

I thought to myself: better not tempt fate. Just complete your run here and now. And then I thought, determinedly – what if I do tempt fate? Why not tempt fate? You are a child of Faith, you have The Blood of Jesus. Don’t give in to fear.

So I ran two more laps. And no, I didn’t trip.

And then I thought of all the other issues I am encountering which require me to hold on in faith. Then I determined, assuredly, that the God Who kept me from falling as I tripped badly - in an effort to keep body and soul in tune and enjoy the beauty of creation, which is what we all do every day, I guess - will surely also see me through every and any other fall.

And - He will also ensure that I finish ‘the race’ in victory - with body and soul intact.

Spirituality in South African Jazz

I am in Mauritius this week – and discovering spirituality in music. South African jazz, to be precise.

One of my favorite, favorite, favorite jazz musician in the whole wide world has to be Jimmy Dludlu. I celebrate his music unashamedly. I have often thought, though with fear and trembling, that his music is so complete it’s unreal. What keeps me from saying that though is my belief that the only thing complete in the whole wide world that I know of is The Holy Bible, and also my anxiety that if Jimmy’s work is so complete, that pre-supposes that I might never hear anything new from him again. Perish the thought.

I bought two of his latest CDS at Johannesburg airport on Monday. Could hardly wait to listen to them. Then, I discovered something that just blows me away….

Whilst enjoying the absolutely enchanting and inspiring harmony, I discover on the sleeve of Corners of my Soul (his release of 2006), that Mr Dludlu must be a Paulo Coelho fan! Can it get better?

Sounds like he is an Alchemist fan! There’s a piece on Corners of My Soul named The Alchemist. This is Mr Dludlu’s own script on the piece:

The Alchemist… a young man leaves home in search of a better life in the big city.. the promise, the toil, the hardship, the turmoil, the deceit, the denial, the pain..the pain…the pain.

Whoever said attaining purpose, hopes, dream (call it what you like) is without pain?

Celebrating Mr Dludlu – my musical inspiration.

Fight The Good Fight of Faith

This was delivered to my mail box this morning from The Warrior of the Light, one of Paulo Coelho's e-journals. It spoke volumes to me so I thought to post it. All credits, copyright et al to Paulo Coelho, of course.

The good fight
“I have fought a good fight, I have kept the faith,” says Paul in one of his Epistles. And it seems appropriate to remember the theme now that a new year is stretching out before us.

Men can never stop dreaming. Dreams are the food of the soul, just as food is to the body.

In our existence we often see our dreams come undone, yet it is necessary to go on dreaming, otherwise our soul dies and Agape does not penetrate it. Agape is universal love, the love which is greater and more important than “liking” someone.

Remembering Dr Martin Luther King
In his famous sermon on dreams, Martin Luther King reminds us of the fact that Jesus asked us to love our enemies, not to like them. This greater love is what drives us to go on fighting in spite of everything, to keep faith and joy, and to fight the Good Fight.

The Good Fight is the one we wage because our heart asks for it. In heroic times, when the apostles went out into the world to preach the Gospel, or in the days of the knights errant, things were easier: there was a lot of territory to travel, and a lot of things to do. Nowadays, however, the world has changed and the Good Fight has been moved from the battle fields to within us.

The Good Fight is the one we wage on behalf of our dreams. When they explode in us with all their might – in our youth – we have a great deal of courage, but we still have not learned to fight. After much effort we eventually learn to fight, and then we no longer have the same courage to fight. This makes us turn against ourselves and we start fighting and becoming our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams were childish, difficult to make come true, or the fruit of our ignorance of the realities of life. We kill our dreams because we are afraid of fighting the Good Fight.

The Battle Within Us
The first symptom that we are killing our dreams is lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life had time for everything. Those who did nothing were always tired and could hardly cope with the little work they had to do, always complaining that the day was too short. In fact, they were afraid of fighting the Good Fight.

The second symptom of the death of our dreams are our certainties. Because we do not want to see life as a great adventure to be lived, we begin to feel that we are wise, fair and correct in what little we ask of our existence. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day life and hear the noise of spears clashing, feel the smell of sweat and gun-powder, see the great defeats and the faces of warriors thirsty for victory. But we never perceive the joy, the immense joy in the heart of those who are fighting, because for them it does not matter who wins or loses, what matters only is to fight the Good Fight.

Finally, the third symptom of the death of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon, not asking too much of us and not asking more than what we want to give. So we feel that we are “mature”, leave aside the “fantasies of childhood” and guarantee our personal and professional success. We are surprised when someone our age says they still want this or that out of life. But deep in our heart we know that what has happened is that we gave up fighting for our dreams, fighting the Good Fight.

False Peace
When we give up our dreams and find peace, we enjoy a period of tranquility. But our dead dreams begin to rot inside us and infest the whole atmosphere we live in. We start acting cruel towards those around us, and eventually begin to direct this cruelty towards ourselves. Sickness and psychoses appear. What we wanted to avoid in fighting – disappointment and defeat – becomes the only legacy of our cowardice. And one fine day the dead and rotten dreams make the air difficult to breathe and then we want to die, we want death to free us from our certainties, from our worries, and from that terrible Sunday-afternoon peace.

So, to avoid all that, let’s face the rest of 2007 and the years ahead with the reverence of mystery and the joy of adventure.

Laying Aside Every Weight

Well, I did it. Last week I had just about had enough of physical lethargy. This every moment filled with a ‘to do’ and an activity was just weighing me down. So I made a few phone calls.

To the E-Learning Manager
Most politely I informed Linda that she would have noticed that I had not much participated in the current module of the MBA course. Could I get a refund on the module? Could I refer my participation to the next time the module was running? Could I take a break from the next module as well? Thankfully Linda said yes to all of the above.

Then I remembered that I did not actually have to complete the MBA in the minimum time prescribed, and reminded myself that there is a reason why there is a two year difference between the minimum time it takes to complete the course and the maximum time in which you can complete it in.

I exhale. Maybe I can have my weekends back now.

To the Ladies Club
Erm. We are doing great, valuable outreach work here. But I’ve been quite overwhelmed for the past couple of months. I need repose and must take some time out from so many of the activities that I am involved with perhaps until the end of the year. Please could somebody else take over the coordination of activities? Thank you.

One final all important email
To one of my mentors and leaders. Please. Leave of absence from some of those many activities till the end of the year. Please.

Jethro
Then I remembered Moses’ wise father-in-law who advised him to delegate some tasks and not overwhelm himself with so many activities. What a wise man he was.

My MBA marks on assignments were falling from distinction to merit to passes. I was not carrying out many of my responsibilities and activities with the same fervor and attention to detail. Even going to the gym was becoming a chore. Worse still, my quiet time was not providing the strength that I knew it could.

No. I can’t do this to myself. Time to lay aside every weight.

Parenting

Mummy Dearest
Not being a parent yet myself, I can’t say I know what it is like to be a parent, but I do know that almost every time I see or speak to my mother on the telephone I feel her unconditional and absolute love for me. Ever attentive, ever concerned, ever caring. Ever ending each telephone conversation with those three little words: I love you.

To be honest, I have always taken that love for granted - and even those three words for granted. Of course she loves me: I am her daughter, for goodness sake! But now more than ever I do realize that, as odd as this may sound, she does not have to love me – many women I know have estranged relationships with their mothers. Fact is though, even though she does not have to, even though we see each other only two to three times a year, her priority is always to let her children know the depth of the love that she has for them.

We remain her priority – our hopes, our dreams, our health. I am thankful to God for her, and I am craving to reciprocate and appreciate her love even more.

Stretching the borders of life
At quiet time this afternoon I thought how often I worry, fret and go off on a tangent with God when I am concerned about whatsoever. I then I realized that the reason that I go off on a tangent is because, frankly speaking, I don’t trust God enough to deliver on His fatherhood responsibilities, for if I did, I am not sure I would fret as much as I do sometimes.

Then I remembered my mother’s love and tried to perceive God’s love for me within this context. I determined that I had to totally trust and obey Him.

People with their minds set on You, You keep completely whole, Steady on their feet, because they keep at it and don't quit. Depend on God and keep at it because in the Lord God you have a sure thing. Isaiah 26 verses 3 and 4

Alchemy

The Alchemist
One of the books which has had a profound effect upon my life is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. If you ever needed motivation to pursue your dreams, The Alchemist is a sure read. I received the book as a gift on my 27th birthday. Ten years on, I am still raving about it. In fact, I must have read The Alchemist at least five times if not more, and have bought at least double that amount of extra copies for friends. It is such a totally, totally terrific read.

And no, Paulo Coelho is not paying me to write this…

Santiago
The hero of the book, Santiago, a poor shepherd boy, had a dream. No, I don’t mean a vision. I mean he slept and had a dream; and through emotional, spiritual, financial and physical drudgery, he pursued the actualisation of that dream.

And he did it with pure gusto.

He was adventurously expectant. Emptied himself of everything that was within him, and in the process, found life, found love, found many friendships, and found his treasure. He lived, to my mind, generously and abundantly.

‘‘I have come that they might know life, and know life more abundantly.’’

On trying to fast track abundance
A few years back, my neighbour’s domestic help came to greet me one Sunday morning. He joyously told me that he would be travelling to the UK. Very well, I thought. And what would you be doing, I enquired? Oh, he would be studying accountancy he informed. I enquired on how he had managed to obtain visa, funds to study et cetera.

Without any hesitation he told me that for the handsome fee of $2000, he had solicited the assistance of someone from the Army who had fraudulently obtained a visa for him by saying that he (i.e. the domestic help) was his (the Army officer) son.

He caught my attention now.

Where had he got the $2000 from, I asked? Oh, he borrowed it from his boss (my neighbour), he told me. Someone had come to make a payment to his boss whilst the boss had travelled, and he had used part of the funds to pay the Army officer. And yes, he had every intention to pay his boss back. All he needed was just someone to pay for his ticket to the UK, and he would work as well as study and repay his boss.

Out of sheer shock, I laughed so much that my stomach ached.

Back to Santiago
Santiago’s story in The Alchemist is really the story of our lives, if we allow God to work in us. His story is not that much different from that of Joseph, David or of St Paul for that matter. He lived, he experienced many ups and many downs, but he held on. He held on in faith and in reverence hope in his dream.

The thing that really blows my mind about that book is at the very end. By this time Santiago has travelled from his home in Spain to Tangiers and then to the Egyptian desert. Then he physically sees the object he dreamt about. Just as he was about to dig for his treasure, a couple of tourists jostle and mock him, questioning the right of a shepherd boy to be in amongst the tourist site of plenty.

The story of Mephibosheth in 2 Samuel chapter 19 comes to mind as a parallel here. I think at this point it also helps to remember that Paulo Coelho is a deeply religious Catholic.

Santiago explains his mission to them and explains that he is about to contact his treasure. Sarcastically, one of them mocks him further. Telling him that he had also had a similar dream, but, unlike Santiago, he had not been as foolish as to pursue a dream dreamt over a hangover. Well, guess who missed their opportunity?

Needless to say, Santiago continued on his course and found his treasure and fortune. True to the very end.

Dictionary definitions
The dictionary definition of alchemy is the "medieval forerunner of chemistry, concerned particularly with attempts to convert common metals into gold". Whilst I think my former neighbour’s domestic help was attempting to turn metal into gold the impossible way, I feel that Santiago actually succeeded in doing so – and he did it the right way, the legitimate way and yes, he found his treasure. The road was the road less travelled, the road was long and hard, but it was also the road that led him to friendships, wisdom, his wife and his treasure.

But as for my neighbour's domestic help, if I know my former neighbour well, I am sure the minute he returned home from his travels, he got the police to arrest the domestic help.

Our charge
Our Saviour and our Lord has charged us live an abundant life. He has charged us to make the most of every situation, and He has charged us to add value to every situation we find ourselves in. How? Ecclesiastes 9 is a great read: Verses seven and eight tells us to seize life and to reverently relish life, make the most of each and every day of this gift of life. Dress festively every morning.

Festively adorn all that is you (your business, family, your career) with joy and gladness. That is true alchemy – choosing to turn the metals in our lives into bullion. The road less travelled.

Wisdom -the art of living skilfully in whatever actual conditions we find ourselves in.

Coincidences, God-incidences and The Water of Life

Psalm 105 verse 3 warns: Keep your eyes open for God, watch for His works; be alert for signs of His presence.

The Week that Was
These past couple of weeks have been somewhat special. In amongst many concerns that sought and fought for my attention, I felt The Almighty God nudging me to calm down, and reassuring me that He is with me.

The warming thing has been this: He consistently gave comfort even on the most minor issues, impressing on me that even on the seemingly trivial points, He makes room for us. It's been heart-warming.

Consider the ravens
Luke 12:23-25: Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life

On using water judiciously
I had guests last weekend from London and Lagos. Fun though it was, I had to remind the guest from London that here we use water judiciously. Go easy on wastage! They left on Tuesday. On Wednesday evening after work, I dash to the shower to refresh – it gets pretty hot here. At 30 degree’s centigrade, it’s winter.

The Gym comes to the rescue
Turned on the tap. No water. Okay, forget the shower. I had bottles of mineral water in the fridge. I would use those to at least wash my face. I would need to go to the gym tomorrow morning before work and have a shower there after my work out. That would mean waking up at around 4.30, have my quiet time and leave the house by 5.45 to get to the gym by 6am when it opens.

So, tired as I was from entertaining guests over the long weekend, I packed my gym bag and considered what to wear to work the next morning so that I could also pack the outfit into my gym bag.

Lunching and praying at home
Ordinarily two to three times a week, I go home for lunch - and to pray. The plan was to go home at lunch time, give the maid some money and instruct her to start looking for a water tanker – those of you who have lived in these parts will catch my drift. I then thought of what it would cost. Honestly, after spending on guests over the last couple of days, that was an unwelcome expenditure.

Well, I never made it home at lunchtime. Work was busy on Thursday so I was stuck in the office till well after 9pm.

My very efficient bank ATM
As I got ready to leave the office, I remembered my water issue. Oh dear. The plan was to go to the ATM near home, withdraw cash and give this to the maid the next day when she comes in, for the purchase of water, when I come for lunch. Tonight, I’d use my bottles of mineral water to freshen up again and leave for the gym at 5.45am the next day so I could have a proper shower.

Tired as I was in the midst of this, when I arrived at the ATM, it was closed. I committed to close my bank account with the bank.

I then had to drive some 15 to 20 minutes to town to another ATM. Tired and hungry as I drove to town, this phrase came to mind: ‘o ye of little faith. Just go home and you may well find that water situation restored’. In my mind, I responded: “God, you know I have faith in You. I just don’t have faith in the water company.”

I drive to town, withdraw money from another ATM and drive home – tired with a capital T.

I arrive home, I turn on my tap, water gushes out.

Trust in The Lord with all your heart.

Discerning the Intimacy of God

Coincidences, God-incidences and Discerning the Intimacy of God
God is intimately present with us every second of our lives; and Psalm 105 verse 3 warns: Keep your eyes open for God, watch for His works; be alert for signs of His presence.

Coincidence and God-incidence number one
Two years ago a friend in the UK spent her vacation with me here in Accra. She needed a break, was suffering from serious UK-fatigue and wanted to relocate to Africa. We had planned the vacation activities with military precision.

My work life being the way it is, a few days to her arrival, I had to travel to Sierra Leone. I asked my friend not to cancel her trip. We arranged for her to stay in a hotel for a couple of days whilst I would be away, and I arranged for some friends to socialise with her whilst I was away.

At the hotel, one day over breakfast she had a chat with another guest. They both had the same profession, they discovered. Over the conversation the gentleman became impressed especially by her intellect, her understanding of their profession. They swapped business cards and kept in touch. Today, through their professional networking, they do business together and she has relocated to Africa.

Coincidence and God-incidence number two
Last night I visited a friend who had just returned from a short break in Europe. She bought me two gifts – a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful funky white cotton shirt, and a set a make-up brushes. Immediately I saw the latter, I laughed, and blurted out: “God has a sense of humor.” Why so? Well, try this.

Whilst in the UK myself some weeks back, I had purchased one of those foundation cum powder from Mac. The sales lady told me that I needed to purchase a make-up brush to go with the foundation/powder. The cost? 25 pounds. Haba! Twenty five pounds? Needless to say, I did not buy the make-up brush.

I came back to Accra and was wondering where on earth I was going to find a make-up brush, let alone one of good quality. Stressed out by the thought, I had already given up even before I started to shop for the brush.

And then last night, I received not one make-up brush, but a set of make-up brushes.

God know His Fatherhood responsibilities
To me, that was God whispering to me that He knows every single one of my needs, even those un-uttered, and as my Father, He is absolutely committed to meeting me at my point of need, day after day after day. This was particularly warming and reassuring, as the past seven days have seen my thought life pre-occupied with a particular need.

Coincidence and God-incidence number three
Two years ago a member of our church mentioned to me that God had impressed it upon her heart that a few of us should gather resources together and purchase a new car for our Pastor and his family. His car was very old and rickety and we could not have him driving it much longer, whilst we cruised in our high-brand saloons and 4WD’s. Besides, the Bible is very clear about the importance of, and the blessing that comes with, giving a Levite offering, a Prophet’s offering. This was to be a surprise to our Pastor and it was all very hush-hush.

We promptly embarked on the project with zeal. A dozen or so members were prayerfully consulted about the scheme and we set about the decision as to which car to purchase. Mid-way into the decision-making and gathering of the financial resources, our Pastor and his family had a car accident. No-one was hurt but the car was very badly damaged. It was clear that God had intimately confided in the friend when He prompted her that a few of us should get together and purchase a car for our Pastor. The rest is history. We purchased the car for our dear Pastor and duly handed it over to him and his family within three weeks of the accident occurring.

I know you by name
Last night’s make-up brush moment was yet another way of God reassuring me that He knows His Fatherhood responsibilities and He knows me by name. He will never leave me nor forsake me. My only conditionality is that I follow Him, trust Him and obey Him. Well, I am not sure that I always get any one of those fundamentals right, but then again, God is a forgiving God.

Praying for the purpose of God and occurrence of God-incidences
One of the prayers that I unreservedly pray on a daily basis is that the purposes of God be established in my life. I realise now more than ever what a powerful and intimate prayer that is. I realise that what I am doing is asking God to become an intimate part of my everyday life, to have His way in me. His Presence is always with us but we must ask for that Presence to go with us.

That’s what Moses did. He refused to leave Egypt without the presence of God, without the will of God (Exodus 33). ‘’If Your Presence doesn’t take lead here, call this trip off right now. How else will it be known that You’re with me in this, with me and Your people? Are You travelling with us or not? How else will we know that we’re special, I and Your people, amongst all other people on this planet Earth?’’ God’s response to this heartfelt retort of Moses? ‘’All right. Just as you say; this also I will do, for I know you well and you are special to me. I know you by name.’’

Once you reverently ask for His presence to go with you, you leave yourself open to be used by Him and in the most subtle and intimate ways. He makes you an instrument of His peace, His purpose, His mind.

God friendship is for God worshippers
As I sign off I am reminded of a verse in Psalm 20 which reads: ‘’God-friendship is for God-worshippers; they are the ones He confides in.’’ What a privilege to be a God-worshipper. Like Moses, we can all be identified as a friend of God, someone who God confides in, for God indeed knows all of us by name. Every hair on our head is numbered by Him – not counted, but numbered. And all it takes is reverent God worship.

You Bring Me Joy

An Unusual Quiet Time
An old song of Anita Baker's sprung to mind during quiet time this morning. Goodness, how could I? This is worship time.

Then I remembered the words of the song:

You bring me joy
When I'm down
So much joy
When I lose my way your love comes smiling on me

I saw your face
And then I knew
We would be friends
I was so afraid, but your arms, they'd say 'come to me'

So I say to you"Can we talk for a while?"
You said "alright"
I feel your hands and you feel mine
You bring me joy

You bring me joy
Don't go too far away
Cause you're the finest thing I've seen in all my life
You bring me joy

And then I understood why the song came to mind. I knew I was singing a worship song.

Social Change, Diversity and my Christian Faith

The Demerits of Technical Rationality
I just returned home from many a light bulb making moments of an MBA Summer School. Talk about enlightening. Talk about it.

Our Summer School instructor, the delightful Ms R, was, by all accounts enlightening. There she had twenty odd matured international students cum professionals, all richly knowledgeable and experienced in their field – and yet all wanted even more management education. But Ms R, astute as she is, threw the ball back to our court and introduced us to reflective and transformational learning.

Managing with a tolerance for ambuguity
Oh yes, she did. How so? Well, management education we came to learn, is about transformative learning, and that process, students cum international professionals, involves and requires reflection and not rational technicality. If you think you are consciously competent in the technicality of your discipline and profession, think again, think twice for that matter, for I am about to awaken you that your true calling as international managers is to manage with flexibility, manage with deep insight, manage with flexibility, and manage with a tolerance for ambiguity. For if you are to be successfully and efficiently manage your organization and hence people, it will take more than a few theories in management education. It will, fellow learners, take you thinking outside of the box, and realizing that your HR resources (and the art of developing your HR resources to realize their fullness personal and professional development) is the best hope for your organization’s future.

My lightbulb making day trip
So Ms R took us on a day trip. She did not disclose many details beforehand though. And, the technically rational international managers that we are, we were utterly frustrated by this. ‘What on earth could we learn just sitting listening to presentations all day?’.

So, we arrived at the site. An administrative office caring for the many living needs of the physically challenged in Sandwell. ‘God help us. What is Ms R up to?’ Well, some of us were to learn, she was up to awakening us to the very best of reflective and transformational learning.

So turn by turn the speakers spoke and presented. Inclusion, diversity, social change, inclusive citizenship was the theme. Social exclusion for any citizen regardless of their race, age, disability, creed was Zero Tolerance zone. So we met and listened to a presentation by the blind wheel chaired fifty something doctor (I forget which discipline his PhD is in) who had a family and had traveled worldwide on the academic and lecture circuits. We heard the 50 something HR manager who reminded us that the elderly, the transsexuals, the homosexuals, the ethnic minorities and the physically challenged have as much to offer in skills and abilities as anybody else and reminded us to be alert to this truth in our organisation’s HR practices.

And I began to be awakened to my own biases
How I have a preference for the heterosexual. How I have a preference for a certain kind of people, of a certain kind of age, from a certain kind of place. And I wandered how many potentially rewarding friendships I had missed out on because of my prejudices.

Vanity Fair and Bishop Desmond Tutu
The July edition of Vanity Fair magazine was a special edition on Africa, edited by Bono. Being mad about Africa, I purchased a copy. In an interview with Brad Pitt, Bishop Desmond Tutu said a few words. Here goes.

“I come from a situation where for a very long time people where discriminated against, made to suffer for something for something about which they could do nothing – their ethnicity. We were made to suffer because we were not white. Then, for a very long time in our church we didn’t ordain women, and we were penalizing a huge section of humanity for something about which they could do nothing about – their gender. And I’m glad that now the church has now changed all that. I’m glad that apartheid has ended. I could not for any part of me be able to keep quiet, because people were being penalized, ostrasized, treated as if they were less than human, because of something they could do nothing to change – their sexual orientation.

For me, I can’t imagine the Lord that I worship, this Jesus Christ, actually concurring with the persecution of a minority that is already being persecuted. The Jesus I worship is a Jesus who was forever on the side of those who were being clobbered, and he got into trouble precisely because of that. Our church, the Anglican Church, is experiencing a very, very serious crisis. It is all to do with human sexuality. I think God is weeping. He is weeping that we should be spending so much energy, time, resources on this subject at a time when the world is aching.''


Now, I don’t agree with Bishop Tutu on everything he said, but my newly developed diversity awareness kicked in.

Are we right in the Christian church to shun the homosexuals, the prostitute, the drug addict, the homeless who may meander into Sunday service - in all, the vulnerable?

No Christian church would probably admit that they do any of the above, but our self-righteousness and prejudices might very often turn the socially excluded away from The Liberty that they actually need in their every day lives.

And as if we ourselves do not toy with addiction of all kinds, whether that is sexual, power addiction and an addiction to our jobs and work to the detriment of all and who that we hold dear. Yes.

So, I wander where this leaves me. I am pro diversity, pro inclusion, and I am also pro Christ.
I believe in the power of His love – and I believe that He has placed skills, knowledge and abilities in all kinds of crafts in each and every one of us – regardless of our race, gender, age and sexual orientation. Would it be fair to say that we would only contact, the world would only benefit from, those skills, knowledge and abilities in all of humanity if we give diversity a chance?

Imagine a world without the outcomes that Martin Luther King Jnr fought for. Imagine a world without the outcomes that Emily Pankhurst and the Suffragettes fought for. Imagine a world without the outcomes that some such as William Wilberforce fought for. Imagine a world without the outcomes that the ANC and other freedom fighters such as the Aborigines fought for. And imagine a world without the outcomes that Zackie Achmat fought for?

Imagine.

Didn’t all these people all just seek to remind us that all are created equal? That no gender, no race, no economic class should live at the bereft of the other?

Baba Mi

Today is the 10th annivesary of my father's passing. We liked to call him Baba mi.

Baba mi, we all miss you like crazy. I love you more each passing day. And with each passing day as I grow and mature in my own life and experiences, I become even more aware of the depth of the sacrifices you made for us all - and the breadth of the love you had for us all.

I remain forever grateful to God, and am very proud, to have known your fatherhood. Rest in peace always.

Resolving What Love Really Is

And I fell in love with God.
Yes, the Living God. Who devotedly breathed The Breath of Life into me. The God Who daily loads me with blessings and new day presents. The One Whose attention I am, for I am, like you, the apple of His eye. The One Who has empowered me to multiply and increase; to live well, to live blessed. The only wise God Who has given me the liberty to live, liberty to love.

When He breathed the breath of Life into me, He empowered me to increase in all that He is - love, joy, peace, health, wealth, strength. The list goes on. What a privilege to be loved by Him.

But to realise that Love, to become conscious of that Love, I am having to die sometime, many a times, to myself - my own needs, my own desires, my own wants. That’s the notion of surrender. Succumbing, yielding, so that I might live – truly live, God’s way.

Galatians 5 verses 22-23 clarifies.
‘’But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.’’

Learning Love from Father Abraham
In the book of Genesis chapter twenty two, the Bible records Abraham’s celebrated odyssey and remarkable action of total surrender. Organized and set to sacrifice his son to the living God, Abraham astonishingly determined the sacrifice and passage as an act of worship.

What became Abraham’s recompense for this great act of surrender? Deliverance from having to physically sacrifice his son, and a special return from God. Verses 9-18.

The God Who ever lives to make us whole
One of the things that really blows my mind about God is that He ever lives to make us whole. He is absolutely and totally committed to our well-being, our healing, and our prosperity. That’s love with a capital L.

‘”Hardly,” I hear you say, “He never saved my marriage. He didn’t prevent that rape. He didn’t prevent that bankruptcy.” Very well, God may not have prevented those terrible events from happening, but He is so totally and absolutely committed to you being emotionally, mentally, spiritually and physically healed from them so that you can know the blessed life that He has promised.

Sometimes in life we come into contact with tragedy because of the decisions we either made or did not make. Likewise, we also come into contact with incredible joy because of the decisions we did make. Sadly, we can often encounter tragedy through no fault of our own – the sexual abuse you suffered as a child which drew you into confused adulthood; the untimely death of a parent which saw you growing up at the mercy (or lack) of dreadful relatives; that stepmother who controlled your father and saw to it that only her own children, not you and your blood siblings, were sent to school. Where is The Love in all of this? Where is the God that is committed to making me whole and why is He has allowed this great pain in spite of His Love?

But this is where the paradox lies.
It is in the famine of our emotions, the dearth of our financial wealth, the incapacity of our human intellect to repair the gaping holes in our lives that we realise that we ourselves do not always have the answers, solutions and remedies for life’s pressing challenges. But there is a Living God Who provides freedom and liberty even in amongst the mess. His invitation was and remains “come unto Me all you who are weary and heavy laden. I will give you rest.”

When God sent Christ from the majesty of heaven to planet Earth, He gave us, in Love, a Saviour. When the Saviour momentarily died, God felt yet more pain for His Son – imagine that separation. However, His pain was relieved by the great exchanged that took place at The Resurrection. Through that rebirth, God could have His Son back with Him in heaven, and He could also have us reconciled with Him.

But how does that translate into our every day living?
What can we learn from this and how do we cultivate the art of living from this insight? Perhaps we might try these: expressing love to family and friends through consistent acts of kindness; being available to listen, to advise, to laugh, to play. Choosing to appreciate their hope, their pain, their joy, their commission.

Being ready to forgive, to make that phone call, to send that email, to make that visit. It’s the notion of sacrifice again. It means being true to each of our calling to serve others in love – whether that is our calling as a friend, sibling, spouse, or parent. It’s hard, believe me I know, but I tell myself I must try, and try, and try again.

I Corinthians 13
One of the deeply celebrated chapters in the Bible is the love chapter in 1 Corinthians 13. The last verse of that chapter directs us to “Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.” Love extravagantly. Galatians 5 verses 13-15 expands: “it is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don't use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that's how freedom grows. For everything we know about God's Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That's an act of true freedom.”

Selah.

Home, sweet home

Back home now.

Back to power failures (funky name for it here is load management), less than clean tap water, pot-holed roads, hammering my broom at wild geckos who have dared to invade my living room...

Back to church, friends, the gym, to MBA studies, to demanding clients.

Home, sweet home.

Living with Teenagers

I am spending the weekend with my eldest sister and her three teenagers - and I could produce a PhD thesis on what my ears have heard and my eyes have seen over the last couple of hours.

It's like a scene from the living with teenagers section of the saturday Guardian newspaper.

• I can't hear what they say - they speak too fast
• I can't understand what they say - they speak a different form of English to the one I know
• They spend an awful lot of time on the internet
• They spend an awful lot of time on their mobile phone

And all I want to do is hug my sister and tell her what a wonderful job she's doing. I can't help but wander what I'll be like when I am in her shoes...

I've also asked my niece and nephews when they'll be visiting me in Ghana. Can someone set up a blog on The Art of Living with Teenagers? Help.

French Gastronomy

I am heartened by Mireille Guiliano.

I am currently in the UK and walked into Waterstones the other day as excited as a child on Christmas Day - all those books! We don't have many good bookshops in Accra. In fact we don't have many bookshops in Accra full stop. But I am told that the Accra Mall (opening 'late 2007') will have a Nu Metro bookshop. Counting the days...

Mireille Guiliano - discovered her quite by chance in the Waterstones 3 for 2 section. Oh, the joys of French gastronomy.

Visited her website and found this interview on her second book, French Women for All Seasons:

French Women for All Seasons is about the art of living well. And, of course, it is filled with stories and tips from my personal experience.

A secret to enjoying life and discovering pleasure is cultivating a life of ongoing experimentation, exploration, enjoyment, and self-discovery. Whether it is living through a season or life, my principle is the same: embrace the seasons and seasonality and make savoring life a more intense experience.

The challenge for people is their lifestyle. Many people go through life on autopilot, paying little attention to their senses. They have a lifestyle of inertia and want a quick fix. Readers of my first book understood that changing a lifestyle is not measured week to week, but year to year. It requires effort and attention, yes, but the benefit is a more sensuous life, and a more fulfilling one. You learn to know yourself, develop a positive emotional outlook, and enjoy more of every aspect of life.

French Women Don’t Get Fat enabled millions of readers to enjoy a healthier relationship with food. My aim with French Women for All Seasons is to enable readers to enjoy a healthier relationship with life!

Voila.

Learning From Dr Martin Luther King

One of the books I am currently reading is The Autobiography of Martin Luther King. If you ever wanted to read something inspirational, intellectually stimulating and immensely comforting as it is challenging, try this one.

A few lessons in living and quotes of worth from the book:

Budgeting (talking about his father): he knew the art of saving and budgeting. He has always had sense enough not to live beyond his means.

Getting along with people: My best friends were in Sunday school, and it was Sunday school that helped me to build the capacity for getting along with people.

White people: the Intercollegiate Council (at Morehouse College) convinced me that we had many white people as allies...I had been ready to resent the whole white race, but as I got to see more of white people, my resentment was softened and a spirit of cooperation took its place.

Black ministers: I had seen that most Negro ministers were unlettered, not trained in seminaries, and that gave me pause. I had been brought up in the church and knew about religion, but wondered whether it could serve as a vehicle to modern thinking, whether religion could be intellectually respectable as well as emotionally satisfying.

Ministerial spellbinders: the minister must be both sincere and intelligent...we have too many ministers in pulpit who are great spellbinders and too few who possess spiritual power.

The usefulness of preaching: Preaching should grow out of the experiences of the people. Therefore I as a minister must know the problems of the people that I am pastoring. Too often do educated ministers leave the people lost in the fog of theological abstraction, rather than presenting that theology in the light of people's experiences.

The status quo: religion should never sanction the status quo.

Gandhi: my study of Gandhi convinced me that true pacifism is not non-resistance to evil, but non-violent resistance to evil.

Niebuhr: Reinhold Neibuhr had over-emphasized the corruption of the human nature. His pessimism concerning human nature was not balanced by an optimism concerning divine nature. He is so involved in diagnosing man's sickness of sin that he overlooked the cure of grace.

Coretta: my wife Coretta, without whose love, sacrifices, and loyalty neither life nor would would bring fulfillement.

Rediscovering lost values: I'm not going to put my ultimate faith in the little gods that can be destroyed in an atomic age, but The God Who has been our help in ages past, and our hope for years to come, and our shelter in the time of storm, and our eternal home. The God I am talking about this morning is the God of the universe and the God that will last through the ages. If we are to go forward this morning, we've got to go back and find that God. That is the God that demands and commands our ultimate allegiance.

The individual: a religion that ends with the individual, ends.