St Andrews PCEA Church - Nairobi

“For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.” Matthew 16:25

The pen that writes my story is in the hand of God, and I intend to live it there.

Recently I attended a graduation of a young man from our church. He admirably garnered a first class honors in accounting and finance double major. If you are allergic to mathematical computations that is a fete that makes you quiver! From my intermittent interactions with him I know him as reserved and quiet, the kind who even when close up are too deep to scoop.

Donning a black robe, the young man sat sandwiched between his proud mother and father. His mortarboard cap rested confidently on his head, like a shade over a volatile wealth; a fence over a precious knowledge. The tussle danced intelligently like a pendulum over his face, prompting him to push it back over and over to clear his sight. The guests, sitting in a restaurant fashion enjoyed amongst other choice foods, mukimo, the African greenish marsh that must have felt in good company with the green hood.

His speech was typed, telling that he knew this moment would come. From where I was sited its length seemed like two pages of white-A4 size paper. As he lavishly thanked the family it was clear he wanted to say more that words could let him. Noticeably, he had no girlfriend to thank (not yet!). His energy went to some intense paragraphs on the possibilities of the nation. His emotion and bouquets were banked with Jesus whom he thanked profusely. The shower of rain that followed must have been out of the breath of Jesus’ smile!

As he thanked Jesus, he confessed that he had sunk as many times as there are days to ask for heavenly favor to make it to the first class cluster. He tearfully testified “…and today it was right there, just like I had prayed it.” Just like he had prayed it and worked it.

Buoyed by a genuine passion his spirit arrested the older, the peer and the younger. I leaned forward, my two hands on either of my chicks to catch the instruction in the ambition of this hitherto reserved man. Like a river whose banks had burst he served us with his depths. As he got stronger his voice became deeper, sagging with a feisty wisdom. Low hums, sighs and clicking tongues traveled approvingly around the room.

At what was my point of sublimation, he softly took off his mortarboard cap. I thought he was making a point and then fit it back on his brainy head. But he proceeded to steadily and surely lay the cap down. As his cap descended to rest on the table against the white table cloth, he escorted it with words to the effect that “…this is an earthly crown. I bend its knees so that it bows down to the greater, the higher, the ultimate crown of God’s approval.”

I’m sure that there were as many interpretations of this young man’s gesture as there were people in the room. Doubtlessly, he had made a profound statement. What I heard and saw him say was “I reinvest my trophy to the service of the Trophy Giver so that there will be many more trophies such as this.”

And as I sat there, my heart agape and my throat chocking with the wisdom jetting from this young man’s passion, I sent out a prayer, “God, in my next graduation, remind me to remove my crown, literally lay it down and voluntarily make it bow to the service of the greater crown.” For there is no higher service.

Paul harshly called his achievements “loss.”  But in this young man’s remarkable humility I saw a shining “gloss” to the pages of the Kingdom.

The young man could not separate his first class success from his first class work and the First Class faithfulness of God. As if he had not inspired me enough, he sent my mental frame staggering as he, in the public presence of all, renewed God’s contract as the In-Chief of his life with the words “The pen that writes my story is in the hand of God, and I intend to live it there.”

Pastor Buri. E.