Today this morning I woke up to one of the most touching messages I have ever received. It was from a Zimbabwean man, I will call him Jonathan. Because of the message he sent me, I could not do my usual Sunday blog, I knelt down and said a prayer for Jonathan. I always believed that there is no one else in this Universe like me and because of that, I learnt that I have to be honest and transparent with my pen.
So this morning, when Jonathan wrote to me, I was overwhelmed because this is a Zimbabwean man who seems to be writing his last words. I showed my King, and he hugged me after he read the message. I just feel so grateful that I touched Jonathan with my story. I am truly sorry Jonathan, to take your private message and post it on my blog, I do not do that. But today I shed a tear for you, and you became part of my journey. I know you and I are not the only ones who were crippled by the Zimbabwean culture. I hope your letter can touch someone who does not have the courage to write to me…but just reads.
“Hi Jean. Your life story resonates with me. I am glad that you were able to escape the clutches of Zim culture and that is to be celebrated. You described a life of isolation and loneliness whilst growing up in Zim. I hear you and I can relate. You described chameleons and such as your friends. I had a thing for ants and termites they were my friends. I get and understand why you write about your past life. All the while you must be wondering how you survived, how you made it through when all the odds were stacked against you. I wasn’t so fortunate I have reached the end of my tether. These are my last days. But hey it was awesome to meet someone like you even though it was only digitally. Take care of yourself, you are awesome no matter what anyone says.”
I pray that you read this Jonathan. You said you were not so fortunate, because you have reached the end of your tether, but I believe you were. Zimbabwe spat you out because you were never of its soil. If you were of its soil, you would have lived all your life to defend the culture, which is not really a culture, but rather the gods of Zimbabwe. One of my favourite books of all time is called the Pilgrim Progress by Jonh Bunyan, I read it more than five times. I know it’s a Christian book, and I don’t recognise myself as a Christian, but I took a lot of meat from this book and threw away the bones. It was about a man on a journey to the celestial city. When he reached the river, he was so scared to cross over, because he felt like he was going to drown, but crossing over the river was the final part of the journey. He wanted any other way to get to the celestial city, but not through the river. He did it in the end, he went into the river, and behold, he found himself in the celestial city.
Jonathan, maybe you have been fortunate enough to know, that you are about to cross the river we all dread.
Just yesterday, on the Sabbath, I was playing Paradise by Coldplay, one of my favourite songs because it describes a girl, and that girl sounds like me. So I always play it on repeat, and my children especially the young ones love it. So my 5-year-old daughter Fadzi asked me, “Mummy what is paradise?”
I found myself telling her, “It’s a place you go to when you die, if you loved the Lord.”
She then went into overdrive, asking all sorts of questions about death, and it made me uncomfortable. But I realized I had to be brave, and talk about death with my little girl. And we had quite a lengthy conversation.
She was actually saying that what do we have to do mum, so we can quickly die and go to paradise already. And I was telling her that, “No sweetheart, we can’t plan to die so we go to paradise, when it happens, it happens and we go there. But it’s not something that we should wish for okay, just so that we go to paradise.”
Now I know why I had that conversation with my little girl…I hope you find some humour and comfort in Fadzi’s way of looking at life.
I pray that the God of Israel YAHWEH, reveals Himself to you today. He has been my father, my mother, my friend and my everything. I didn’t even know Him in Zimbabwe when I was a little girl, but He knew me, and it was Him who made the ants, the chameleons and the animals love me and communicate with me. And I believe those ants and termites were His way of talking to you. I read somewhere once, in a book, that Zimbabwe is known to be the sacred garden of Eden. I always think of the “Chinhoyi caves”, which the gods say, “inzvimbo inoyera”. I truly believe this, considering the personal encounters I had in hidden Chinhoyi caves when growing up. I refused to enter the caves…. They were beautiful and hidden, I would say the most mysterious wonder of this world, yet in a little country so despised and unknown, with all sorts of precious stones and diamonds. The country is cursed, the land can never thrive or bear fruit, even though it has the wealth of this world.
That said, like you said, how did we survive and make it out of Zimbabwe, it was only through the God of Israel.
I have faith that paradise awaits you my brother…but I pray that you have the Faith to cross over the river yourself…
I am so glad and privileged to have met you too, even Nino too, even though it’s only digitally, but that’s the world today isn’t it, we live digitally…
May we meet in resurrection one day…
The Genesis Of The Revelation By
Mary-Tamar was Jean
jeangasho.com 