The morning was come and calm when I arrived at the Manna House Tabernacle, for so it was called, where I had ministered a few times. It was situated in the home of a good elderly brother with a short stature, by the name of Francis Pepela. The few folks who used to fellowship in this old and seemingly earlier abandoned house, that belonged to the father of our brother, were as simple as the small brick house itself. Everything here bare the natural mark of humility and simplicity. Timothy Wanjala, a staunch Quaker follower of the founding missionary - Mr. Ford, had abandoned his small western designed house for the large parcels of land in the Kenyan schemes left by the white settlers. Note that the Quaker movement was organized around a genuine move of the Holy Spirit in England in the 17th century by George Fox and company. These were greatly persecuted mainly for their genuine faith in the Word of God, and that the presence of God exists in every person and soul contrary to the teaching of the leading religious organizations then.
I arrived a little late, having been delayed by the public means which I used, and found the little gathering already seated. I took my position on the bench at the back in the little sitting room that we used for fellowship. Earlier, at the daybreak, I had the option of going to any other fellowship of the Message Believers, but I was led to Misikhu Manna House fellowship. The unique name of the fellowship went beyond the simple fact that one of the rooms had been set aside as the End-time Message books and audio tapes library serving that part of western Kenya region.
On normal occasions, I would hardly sit down to a silent prayer than my good brother Pepela would touch my back and lead me into a small room by the side and leave me there with the simple instruction, but laced with a decisive tone: “I will call you after leading the service”. However, it wasn’t so on this particular morning; I calmly finished my silent prayer and sat with comfort in my heart that I was going to hear from our loving Heavenly Father by another brother preaching. Eventually, in earnest, my interpretation and projection were confirmed, yet not knowing that there was more to it than could meet the eye.
We sang one of the sweetest hymns of the moment to invite the preacher! Guess what…a young man donning the school uniform of Kibabii Boys High School stepped on the pulpit which had no other facility or equipment, but a characteristic small wooden table. That the uniform comprised of a pair of long trousers and a light blue shirt, I knew he was an A-level student. I confess that he may have only looked familiar to me, but I did not know him. I cannot even tell the cause and level of familiarity that I have just referred to. There was no personal introduction in his opening remarks, nothing to give a hint of who he was, which group or denomination he sides with. Neither was he enthusiastic about the exaltation of the Branham Message groups viz a viz the other denomination. It was wonderful and amazing too! It found me off guard... as I watched the slender young preacher in Kibabii high school uniform enter the pulpit and start off... well, was I hearing William Branham preaching? Had he resurrected in black skin... that voice, that anointing... my! I wrapped my eyes again and again... No! it is not an optical matter...
There he was in the same room I had preached, in much tears, to the little congregation a little message titled ‘Once More LORD,’ not long ago then. The short message was based on the Book of Judges 16 detailing the victorious end of the Servant of the LORD - Samson.
And Samson called unto the LORD, and said, O Lord God, remember me, I pray Thee, and strengthen me, I pray Thee, only this once. O God, that I may be avenged of the Philistines for my two eyes.
Nevertheless, everything seemed made over this morning, including the sitting arrangement of the congregation which had been reversed - they now sat facing the North instead of the usual South. Thus the congregation now sat facing directly towards Mt. Elgon, which is by interpretation ‘El’s corner’ or ‘God’s corner’. Thus, the Speaker - Preacher was as one speaking from Mt. Elgon to the congregation!
I know this could be very surprising to all those who were there then to hear it thus now, but that is how God - our Heavenly Father works in simplicity, while leaving indelible signification of His accomplishments. None the less, any one of folks who can remember those days will testify of this rearrangement. And even when a fairly bigger hall was constructed about half a kilometer away, the same setting of the Congregation facing Mt. Elgon directly was unconsciously maintained.
His very opening remarks were the most original, sober and full of virtue that I had ever experienced in any pulpit in my country hitherto, nor from any other trending audio tapped message, except, perhaps, the taped sermons by Brother William Marrion Branham. As I marveled at the lively and authoritative words that flowed out of his mouth, I conveniently adjusted myself on the small bench so that nothing should go over me.
Suddenly, I beheld, and his visage to me was transformed to that of the forerunner, Bro. Branham. Nevertheless, his black skin colour never changed! This was indeed a marvel as the matter was just between me and him; the rest of the congregation seemed not to be there, or at least, out of my notice! The lively breathe and unique anointing that I experienced flowing through my heart while reading the sermon Message books by Bro. Branham freshly came upon me, and now from a live preaching. My heart was finally bathed with the spiritual reality that had such a homecoming touch - at last! ‘This must be what it was and what it must be’, or so I mumbled within my heart as the preaching went on in such a frolic manner. You could almost perceive it in me.
It was a flow of confidence, assurance, originality, simplicity, humility, free Spirit and founded faith on Truth, brewed together. My! One sip is all it would take and you are drank enough to sit in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, wholly forgetful to life in this old valley below and all its cares. My boat had been rocked.
Notwithstanding, his visible youthful age not only vividly betrayed his experience in religious matters, but also denied him any tutorship by the then fairly trending pastors in both starchy religious organizations and the then upcoming charismatic denominations. No! Not even among the latest on the block, the End-time Message Believers’ Pastors. Then, what would be the answer to his overriding wisdom and unfeigned original authority? He was full of the live Word! No wonder, with time, some of the most seasoned in the latter group of pastors, while unawares, embraced him for a while because of the anointing upon him witnessed in his preaching, only to quickly disown him as naïve, inexperienced and possessed with a strange spirit likened to Elijah Wa Nameme - Musambwa, which could be symmetrically likened to Theudas or Judas of Galilee in the days of taxing spoken off in the Book of Acts 5:37. Remember that all these came on the scene just before our Lord Jesus Christ First Coming, and in the same region, County and tribe of Galilee. Mark this because we will revisit it.
Yeah, the platform for a modern Gamaliel, a doctor and a pharisee of Pharisees was erected, but who would hearken to his words? The sect of the Sadducees were filled with indignation, and could not hear a word, even from a notable one among themselves. They have all pledged to rather go astray, and so have they. They also attempted, as we shall narrate later, to lay their hands on the apostles by the secret arm of the CID of the country, but to no avail. The same angel of the Lord that opened the prison doors by night for the apostles, and brought them forth, could not suffer them fulfil their plot. The chief CID officer must have later relayed his experience with the innocent pair he had intently interrogated. Glory to our Heavenly Father, even the Father of He who was fore-ran by Prophet William Branham, Amen.
Oh, back to the calm morning Service, I do not remember how exactly the maiden Sermon ended, but the blessings, the worship at the end and the soaking of our little hearts by the Spirit of God was amazing. My eyes were opened and bright! I started thinking of one of the schools of thought that held it then that the Prophet forerunner, Bro Branham, would resurrect and ‘Ride this trail once more!’ How many remember this with me? It had been picked from a night vision that Rev. walker had and told of the prophet on a great white military horse on a high up pyramid rock from the East, related in the Sermon, And Knoweth It Not of 15th August, 1965. Bro Branham had served the Lord for thirty years then when he again took special reference in the scripture of Rev. 3:14, the letter to the angel of Laodiceans. It had always been sweet musing about Bro. Walker’s dream. Although I didn’t join any of the schools, it was settled in me that this was a great prophecy of the season beyond the forerunner, since evidently it was a dream by the Holy Ghost.
Could this be him, and that he was to be born back as a black African? This was one of the kind of questions that kept stubbornly probing me yet with such a strong tie post somewhere that finally it is Come! What? The working of the mighty Hand of God, even the Day of the LORD. How? I couldn’t tell. But why black this time? I had no answer then, but could neither rise against the blessed assurance in my heart nor even make a mild attempt of the same….
(To be continued)
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