Small Things Are Great

As one delves into the Book of Numbers, it is helpful to understand why the book carries that name. The title comes from two censuses recorded in the book (Numbers 1 and Numbers 26). However, these censuses were not meant to count every individual in the nation of Israel. They followed two specific principles: 1. Only men were counted. 2. Only men of fighting age were counted. This means the census was not simply a population count. It was a military count , measuring the strength of the nation in terms of those who could defend the people, the land, and the covenant community. In many ways, this gives us insight into leadership and organization. Strength is often measured by the number of people ready to stand, serve, and carry responsibility. In ancient Israel this was measured through fighting men; in today’s church, it may be seen in those who are ready to stand firm in faith, serve faithfully, and carry responsibility within the community. The Book of Numbers contains 36 chapters....

One of the things that has stood out to me this year as I read through the Bible is the theme of introduction . As I move from book to book, I keep noticing that the story of Scripture begins with God introducing Himself to humanity. Then, as the story unfolds, He narrows that introduction to smaller and more specific groups of people. It is almost as if God is patiently revealing Himself step by step. Let’s walk through that journey together. 1. Genesis: God Introduces Himself to Humanity. In the book of Genesis, God introduces Himself broadly to the whole of humanity. Anyone who is willing to listen encounters Him. He speaks with Adam and Eve (Genesis 3:9). He warns Cain before he commits sin (Genesis 4:6–7). He receives the worship of Abel (Genesis 4:4). He continues His relationship through Seth's line (Genesis 4:26). Throughout Genesis, God reveals Himself to many individuals: Hagar in the wilderness (Genesis 16:7–13) Abraham, whom He calls into covenant (Genesis 12:1–3) Ishma...

I am in a forum where a question was raised and I took some time to respond to it. The question was, "what is the essence of belonging to a Church?" This question was asked in the context of a burial event where "the church" could not agree with the family on fees attached to laying the remains of the beloved to rest and friends had to step in and do it however they thought best. Here is my response; Because this question was asked in the context of a burial, I will respond in three parts: 1. Who I am and why I speak as a pastor. 2. What the church is. 3. Why the church becomes involved in burial matters. 1. Who I Am and Why I Speak. My name is Japheth M. Ndonye (Map). I am a born-again Christian and a member of the body of Christ. I came to faith in 1997, grew deeply in my walk from 2004, and was called into pastoral ministry in 2012. I have served in missions and discipleship for many years — in high schools, colleges, and local churches. I have also served as a y...

As we journey through Leviticus, it is easy to get lost in the procedures or ignore them entirely — the inspections, the isolations, the scraping of walls, the shaving of hair, the washing, the sacrifices and many more. At first glance, it feels repetitive and almost unrelatable to us today. But if you slow down and look closely, you'll notice a pattern. In Leviticus 13 and 14, the same word(tzaraath) is used to describe a skin disease, a contaminated garment, and even mold in a house. We see the priest examining a person, then he examines a building. The process is strikingly similar; Inspection - Isolation - Re-inspection - Removal - Restoration. Just as a human body can be declared unclean, a physical house can also be declared unclean and both are treated with seriousness. That should make us pause. God does not treat uncleanness casually — whether it appears on skin or on stone walls. Why? Because He dwells among His people. The camp is not ordinary space. It is shared space w...

Toward the final section of Exodus, the story suddenly feels like we have walked into a construction site. For many chapters, Moses receives instruction after instruction — measurements, colors, fabrics, wood, positioning, crafting techniques. Nothing is vague, nothing is assumed. Every detail matters. From one end of the camp to the other, specific people are assigned specific tasks because they had been gifted for the same. Reading it, the picture is simple: this is a foreman directing a site that belongs to someone else. God designs. Moses supervises. The people build. Eventually the workers return with their finished pieces. Not the tabernacle itself — but the parts that make it possible. They bring them to Moses, and he inspects everything carefully. Every ring, every pole, every garment, every stitch. Box after box ticked. The work matches the instruction. Everything checks out according to Moses, but will God say the same? Only after inspection does assembly begin. Now the camp ...

Near the end of Exodus, just when Israel is organizing materials to build the Tabernacle, Moses gathers the entire community and says something unexpected: “ For six days work shall be done, but the seventh day shall be holy — a Sabbath of rest to the Lord.” To us, that sounds normal. To them, it was revolutionary. These were former slaves. Pharaoh had worked them relentlessly. There was no rhythm of rest in Egypt. Production was constant. Value was measured by output. Brick quotas did not pause for reflection. But now their new Leader introduces something radical: Stopping work is obedience. Working nonstop is disobedience. That must have sounded shocking to them. All of a sudden, lighting a fire for labor purposes could cost you your life. This day was legally protected from productivity. This was more than a schedule adjustment. It was identity reconstruction. Thinking further, this was the first time they're learning about rest. Humanity never had a weekly, monthly or yearly ca...

“When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain…” The problem in Exodus 32 did not begin with rebellion. It began with silence. Moses was not dead, God was not absent, the covenant had not been cancelled and heaven was not closed. But it felt quiet and sometimes that is enough to shake people. The Israelites had seen plagues, a divided sea, water from a rock, bread from heaven, thunder on a mountain. Yet forty days of waiting unsettled everything. When Moses delayed, they interpreted the delay as abandonment. Silence became suspicion.  “As for this fellow Moses…” they said. Notice how quickly respect dissolved when presence was removed? The man who stretched out his staff over the sea is now reduced to “this fellow.”🤦 Distance reshapes memory and delay edits history. But their deeper mistake was this: they had attached their faith to the visible mediator more than the invisible God. When Moses disappeared into the cloud, they assumed leadership had van...

Every form of schooling shapes the mind. Whether it is a madrasa, Sunday school, university lecture hall, or nursery classroom, education always influences how a person thinks. In that sense, all teaching risks becoming brainwashing — not always intentionally, but naturally. Information comes with framing, and framing slowly becomes belief. Because of this, the responsibility of a teacher is heavier than simply passing information. A good teacher does three things: They present the available knowledge. They expose learners to the range of ideas surrounding it. They give their own understanding honestly. Then they step back and allow the listener to decide. This is difficult. Most teachers want agreement. We feel successful when students echo us. Silence feels like failure, disagreement feels like rebellion, and departure feels like rejection. So we subtly pressure decisions — through authority, emotion, or belonging. Yet there exists a model of teaching that worked in the opposite dire...

In our Bible study this year, we're almost shifting to the book of Leviticus. On the onset, many people begin reading Leviticus and quickly feel overwhelmed. It seems full of rules about sacrifices, food, skin diseases, clothing, bodily discharges, and priestly procedures. At first glance, it feels distant and highly ceremonial. But when you slow down, something surprising appears: Leviticus is intensely practical and down to earth. Leviticus is about holiness — but not holiness in a narrow, religious sense. It teaches what we might call the wholeness of life. According to Leviticus, there is no part of life that lies outside God’s concern. Holiness touches health, diet, family relationships, sexuality, clothing, housing, work, and social responsibility. All this things matter to God and therefore they should matter to us. The body matters. What one eats matters. Clean and unclean foods are discussed in detail. Childbirth and bodily conditions are addressed openly. Even haircuts an...

Whenever people read through the Bible, they usually reach a point where it suddenly feels boring. At the beginning, the story moves fast. Genesis is full of life — creation, families, journeys, conflict, movement. You can retell it around a fire and everyone listens. Then Exodus becomes almost an action movie: a clash between God and the gods of Egypt, plagues, rescue, the sea opening, a nation escaping slavery. It is dramatic and memorable. But then we reach Leviticus… Numbers… and Deuteronomy, many readers slow down or even stop. The reason is not that the Bible has become less meaningful. The reason is that the genre has changed . The speed drops because God is no longer just showing power — He is explaining purpose . As I have been reading, I began to notice a pattern in the Pentateuch; In Genesis, God introduces Himself. In Exodus, God introduces His strategy of salvation. In Leviticus, God communicates His expectations for the people He has called. In Numbers, God divides those ...

Yesterday at Matunda Senior School, something important began. We launched what I am calling pulpit-based discipleship — teaching the whole CU (about 170 students) not through evangelistic preaching, but through careful explanation. Not sound, not hype, but foundation. The concern that triggered this series was simple but serious. A message from Mwalimu: “I feel like we need to take the whole church through topics like: What is salvation? Why does mankind need salvation? Who is the saviour? What does it mean to be saved? What are we saved from? New life after salvation. Growth in Christ as a believer. The church needs basic doctrine so that they believe with understanding and become true disciples.” Many students respond to altar calls again and again — but do they actually understand what salvation is? So instead of beginning with “Come to Jesus,” we began with three words: God — Salvation — Believer Because if those three are not understood, everything else becomes confusion. 1. Go...

I recently began reading the book of Exodus, and I wasn’t prepared for how immediately  relevant it would feel. This book wastes no time. From the very first chapter, the themes are heavy, confronting, and strangely familiar; Power, Fear, and Oppression Verse 10 struck me hard. The language—“ let us deal shrewdly with them ”—carries uncomfortable echoes of black slavery, colonial systems, and even modern movements like Black Lives Matter. There’s a sense of calculated fear at play. The Israelites are growing, and the Egyptian king sees them not as people, but as a problem to be managed. What follows is chilling: enslavement, forced labour, and eventually infanticide. Racism and oppression are not modern inventions—they are ancient strategies born out of fear and insecurity. Lahaula! What stands out is that Egypt’s response is not open warfare. It is strategic oppression. Quiet. Systematic. Shrewd. That word— shrewd  —sent me to the concordance and the Bible dictionary, and eee...

“These Are the Names.” That’s 👆 the original Hebrew title of the book we call Exodus. A record written by our brother Moses, it tells a story of rescue, relationship, and restoration. While we often read it as Israel’s story, it is just as much the testimony of every believer. Once, we were bound. God saw our captivity. He heard our cry. And He came down to rescue us. Exodus is not just history; it is a living picture of how God sets captives free. * It is God who sees people in bondage. * It is God who hears their cry for help. * It is God who sends deliverance. * It is God who defines the path of rescue. * And it is God who disciplines us when we refuse His way. In many ways, Exodus reads like a parable — an earthly story carrying a heavenly meaning. That has always been God’s language. Even when He walked among us, Scripture records that He taught in parables again and again. It seems woven into His way of communicating truth. In Genesis, we meet God as Creator, introducing Himself...

Some names in Scripture carry a story within them—an echo of what God intends to do in a life. One such name is Joseph , a Hebrew name meaning “ God will add ” or “He will increase.” When you look closely, you begin to see a pattern: the Josephs in the Bible were not loud, dramatic, or attention-seeking. They were quiet men who walked through deep struggles—and yet, God increased them in remarkable ways. Let’s walk through these Josephs. 1. Joseph, Son of Jacob — Increased After Hardship. He began as the youngest boy with big dreams, hated by his brothers and sold into slavery. From being falsely accused, forgotten in prison, and overlooked by people, Joseph’s life looked like a chain of disappointments. But God kept adding. God added favor in Potiphar’s house. God added wisdom in prison. God added interpretation of dreams. God added authority until he stood second to Pharaoh and preserved nations from famine. Joseph’s silence wasn’t weakness—it was the stillness of a man who trust...

Genesis 33 and 34 end with two strong closing statements. In one, Jacob builds an altar and calls it El Elohe Israel. In the other, Jacob’s sons ask, “Should he have treated our sister like a prostitute?” Two endings—one full of worship, one full of anger—but together they bring us back to a very important question: Who is God? As we’ve read Genesis, God keeps showing up with different names. These names are not random—they reveal who He is and how people experienced Him. So far we’ve met: * Elohim – Creator God (Genesis 1:1) * YHWH – LORD (Genesis 2:4) * El Shaddai – God Almighty (Genesis 17:1) * El Elyon – God Most High (Genesis 14:18) * El Olam – Everlasting God (Genesis 21:33) * El Roi – The God who sees me (Hagar’s name for Him, Genesis 16:13) * El Elohe Israel – God, the God of Israel (Genesis 33:20) Some of these names God reveals Himself while others are names people gave Him after personal encounters—real moments where they understood a new part of His character. In today’s pa...

There is something quietly surprising about this part of Genesis. As we've been reading, we instinctively treat men like Noah, Abraham, and others before Jacob as though they were Israelites. Yet the truth is almost the opposite: there were no Israelites on earth during their lifetimes. The name “Israel” had not yet been spoken. No nation had yet been formed. Instead, the world at that time was organized around families, not nationalities. People drew their identity from the name of their father or the leader of their household. Communities were not built by borders or governments but by bloodline, memory, and a shared story. That is what makes Jacob so important. When God renames him Israel, something entirely new begins. He becomes the first person to carry this name, and his children become the first community to carry that identity. In reality, we should imagine their names like this: Reuben Israel, Simeon Israel, Levi Israel, Judah Israel… and so on. Israel becomes their famil...

Persecution has been on my mind a lot lately. The stories we keep hearing—people losing homes, losing safety, yet still worshipping God boldly—have humbled me. What surprises me every time is the love these believers show for God even when they are threatened or forced to flee. They keep standing. They keep worshipping. They keep saying, “God is worth it,” even when danger is right in front of them. I often think about Daniel when I hear such stories. In the first story, Daniel’s friends refused to bow to the giant statue the king had set up. The king was furious and threw them into a blazing furnace. But what they told him still shakes my heart today: “Our God can save us. But even if He doesn’t, we will not bow.” Their faith wasn’t based on whether God would stop the fire. Their faith was based on loyalty. They trusted God with their souls, even if their bodies burned. Then there is the story from Daniel 6. A law was passed that everyone had to pray to the king. Daniel didn’t even fl...

When we read the story of Hagar and Ishmael, it’s easy for people to mix things up — especially because “Ishmael” and “Islam” sound like cousins. But once you look closely at the story and history, you discover they’re not cousins at all. They’re not even neighbours. Let me explain. When Hagar had Ishmael, what was born was a people group, not a religion. These were real human beings — families, clans, tribes — the kind of people who share food, land, jokes, and family drama. And God looked at this child, Ishmael, and did something very important: He blessed him. He promised to make him a great nation and He kept His word. These descendants of Ishmael are not “bad people” or “wrong people.” They are simply people — and they are included in God’s kindness and mercy. You’ll find kind, honest, warm-hearted people among them just as you will among any other group. Think of it as a child born out of wedlock, rape or unplanned pregnancy. God doesn't look at the child as a mistake or a ba...

In this week's reading we go through Genesis 16–25. This section becomes very interesting once we stop reading only to “get a revelation” and instead ask, “What is actually happening here?” These chapters start with the birth of Ishmael and end with Esau giving away his whole birthright for a bowl of soup. Yes—soup. Not pilau, not nyama choma… just supu ya ndengu. In between these events, the story is full of real people, real mistakes, and a very real God whose character is continually revealed. It all begins with a tough situation. Sarai cannot have a child, so she gives her servant Hagar to Abraham. Today, this whole arrangement would be the plot of a very dramatic TV show. Ishmael is born, and God BLESSES him. But even with all the drama, jealousy, and complaints, we see something important: Abrams mistake did not interfere with God’s plans. Even when he took a shortcut, God still stuck to His plan. As the story continues, Abram now has two key women in his home, and instead of...

As we transition to another key personality in the history of the Church, I hope you noticed something interesting (and slightly shocking) in the genealogies: one brother married his niece, another married his half-sister. One married the daughter of his brother, while the other married the daughter of his father. These kinds of unions will later be clearly prohibited when we reach Leviticus—but at this point in the story, they were part of the early human experience. Now, as we move into the life of Abram, we encounter a new and unique trait of God. Earlier in Genesis, we saw God naming things—light, day, night, creatures—but now He begins renaming people. This pattern continues into the New Testament, though somewhere along the way, the Church ended up misusing the idea by giving people new names during baptism, as though the name itself was the source of holiness. But here, renaming is God’s work, tied to purpose, identity, and calling. Come to think of it, remember this promise tha...