The story begins with my Grandma – Shelmith Kariba. She was regal each time I encountered her. She never put a title in front of her name; even though she had several of them. I loved hanging out with her as a kid. But like most children, I didn’t think much about our connection until much later in life.

My Grandma was a believer in God. Her faith was wrought by the experiences she had so you couldn’t convince her that she believed a lie. On the days she missed church service, she would enquire from her neighbours which songs they sang from the hymn book and what the Bible readings were. She would then sing the hymn and read the Scriptures at home. In case we were visiting her, she would call her grandchildren to sit with her as she did so. Once she conducted a sermonette with the grandchildren present, we would go back to playing and her to her chores.

Memories like these about Grandma warm my heart when I look back on them. She was teaching us how to be diligent in this walk of faith. That even if we have to do it alone, to do it anyway. As a child, I would be so upset to have to leave playtime to go sit with her. But in hindsight, I am glad she insisted that we join her as she prayed, sang hymns and read the Bible.

I remember this one time when she randomly said to me in our mother tongue, “No matter where you go, never forget about the Lord.” This was stated in passing in the middle of a story. That’s the kind of lady she was. She never lectured. She just dropped gems like those in her speech and went about her business.

It was nothing more than a random thought. Or so I believed. I didn’t see it as a seed at the time. Much like a fruit consumer doesn’t see a fruit seed as a beginning. Yet to a farmer, the end of eating a fruit is usually the beginning of a harvest. I did not think of this story as a seed. I thought as a consumer not a farmer. It is now that I am able to see clearly the potency of what was deposited in me.

Looking back, I see how emotionally aware Grandma was. She spoke her mind about the things she deemed important. She would tell me she studied up to class three and so she signs her cheques by farming. Since I was in school at the time, she encouraged me to utilise the opportunity so I could sign my cheques by doing lighter work than her. She didn’t mind sitting in silence and examining matters at close range. I now get that and love it about her.

At a pretty young age, my Grandma was thrown a curveball by life. Her beauty came as a result of the fight she had to put up to keep the curveball from winning. She had to learn skills not known to her before. Find courage in places she never thought she had it stored. Learn language for the new rooms she was getting into. Shed a version of herself that was familiar and comfortable so she could embrace the higher version of herself she needed in the environment she found herself in.

Today as a grown woman, I acknowledge she was grand even without titles. I recognize the wars she fought and told no one. The battles she took on and walked away from as though they were nothing. Yet in reality they took so much from her.

This is the version of a woman I have learned to be in the last couple of years. The childish lens through which I viewed Grandma has matured and I see beyond what I assumed.

I don’t need to go into details of what she or I experienced. Everyone has a thorn in the flesh in some place. It’s natural to keep announcing your thorn to all because it hurts. Unfortunately, announcing it doesn’t heal it or even make it slightly better. Wisdom dictates that the time spent lamenting about it would be better spent healing it.

A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, but the wealth of the sinner is stored up for the righteous.

If my Grandma left me shoes, I would have loved and treasured them. However, with time they would have gone out of fashion and I’d have been forced to put them away. But with this caution to never forget the Lord, she left me something bigger. Dare I say, the gift of a lifetime. She pointed me to where I would find help, hope and everything in between. She left me an inheritance that will never age or go out of fashion. She bequeathed me what I will share with the generations coming after me.

In the Bible, there are times when Jesus is referred to as the Son of David. That reference always intrigues me because it makes me think of how great you need to be for God to say, “Okay, My Son can be called Son of David”. In the record of the kings of Israel, each time the nation sinned, God would say they did not follow Him like their father David did. David must have left an indelible mark on God right from his years as the little shepherd boy who warmed His heart. Indeed, he left an inheritance for posterity.

And the hand of Midian prevailed against Israel. Because of the Midianites, the children of Israel made for themselves the dens, the caves, and the strongholds which are in the mountains. So it was, whenever Israel had sown, Midianites would come up; also Amalekites and the people of the East would come up against them. Then they would encamp against them and destroy the produce of the earth as far as Gaza, and leave no sustenance for Israel, neither sheep nor ox nor donkey. For they would come up with their livestock and their tents, coming in as numerous as locusts; both they and their camels were without number; and they would enter the land to destroy it. So Israel was greatly impoverished because of the Midianites, and the children of Israel cried out to the Lord.

Gideon was processing wheat in a winepress to avoid detection by the Midianites when he had an encounter with God. The angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon and said, “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.”

The angel refers to Gideon as a mighty warrior even though there was nothing in his present that made him look or even feel like a warrior. For Gideon to process wheat in a winepress meant his capacity and range of motion were limited, which would have seen him take longer than usual to finish the task. The quality of his final product was also likely affected by his environment. His circumstances were not in sync with what the angel was telling him. Gideon went ahead to ask the angel why the Lord had given the Israelites to the Midianites if He was really with them.

By the end of this encounter, Gideon was charged with leading the Israelites to break free from the oppression they were under. He called for fighting men and 32,000 men showed up. Only for God to say they were too many. He went to battle with only 300 men but still defeated the Midianites.

The victory for Gideon was not just in defeating their Midianite oppressors. It was also that the Israelites got out of the cycle of poverty and oppression and were freely able to grow and harvest their crops.

Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying: “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I sanctified you. I ordained you a prophet to the nations.”

Often, I would read Bible verses like Jeremiah 1:4 and I would wonder out loud, “If this God knows me then why do I feel trapped in a generational cycle of anger, bitterness and resentment and a whole rack of messy habits?”

I rationalised it as best as I could. Maybe God wasn’t as good as people say He is. After all, He chose to be blind and mute to me. But try as I did to let it go and move on with life, I would find myself constantly wondering about God’s goodness. I would listen to a gospel song about it and dance to its beat or even hum it but deep down I questioned whether all these people could be wrong about God. Saying that He was good when He was not. Or was I the one in error?

When Covid-19 hit in 2020, I found myself with a lot of free time and didn’t know what to do with it. The nature of the pandemic was that it came with many unknowns, which bred fear in the hearts of many, mine included. Society was looking for answers to cope with what was happening. Even though explanations were given and data shared, they didn’t answer the fundamental questions we all had. Is this the end of the world as we know it? Will this disease be the way I meet my Maker? There were deep questions that didn’t have direct answers.

With all the ample time I had and the fear in my heart, I decided to pray and seek the answers for myself. I set up a space in my house and each day I would sit in that spot and pray. Then walk away pleased with myself expecting that everything would be solved by the time I woke up. When there were no immediate results, I told myself God might be busy but if I keep saying my prayers He’ll eventually get to me and answer me.

The routine wore off after some time as I didn’t have much to say. I would now go to my prayer spot and just chill. Not say anything for the time I had allocated. In that silent introspection, there were days I cried because I was angry and upset at something or even God Himself for not acting as I asked. After crying, I’d ask the real questions that were weighing on me. “God, are You really good? Do You still do those things we read in the Bible like You spoke to men? Do You deal with small-time believers like me or should I wait until I am cleaner and less blunt so You can love me?” I didn’t get an audible response but something shifted in my mind about God after those brutally honest sessions.

It brought me to several discoveries. One, I was not dead even after asking those types of questions. Two, I could be real and honest with God. Three, I didn’t have to talk all the time. I could just listen. My relationship with Him became a lot more genuine and less transactional. It was no longer about Him giving me everything I wanted in exchange for me promising to live with Him when I die.

Over time, that relationship has grown from faith tinged with fear to faith galvanised with trust. With help, I have learned to see all my traumas and know how to better deal with them. I’ve evolved from a broken little girl to a child of God who is self-aware and willing to look inward and have a relationship with myself. I can now speak up and not put myself in positions that leave me unloved. I know what stillness is. I lay my burdens down and enjoy being alive in this particular place and season I’m in. I hold myself in high regard. I’ve let go of the need to control everything for I have found safety in My Maker.

Like the Israelites freed from the Midianites, I have gone back and freely collected my harvest. I’m far from done collecting but I reckon since this is a lifelong journey, I have much to look forward to.

It’s with great honour that I share some of the treasures I’ve uncovered in my dealings with My Maker. May they spur you on to encounter Him for yourself.

This edition of Telios Chapters is an excerpt from I Got Out By Regina Gacheri.

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