Failure Isn't Final. Harold Mawela

The War in Your Will: A Gethsemane Strategy for a Nation on the Brink By Harold Mawela Akasia, Pretoria The jacaranda trees outside my window in Akasia have just exploded into that furious purple bloom—October’s divine confetti carpeting our streets, sticking to tires, clinging to windscreens like God’s stubborn grace. But this morning, as I scraped petals off my old sedan before heading to the AFM church, I found myself staring at something else: the fuel gauge. R3.06 per litre more for petrol. R7.37 more for diesel. Paraffin—the lifeline of our poorest—up by nearly R12. A 15% jump in petrol. A 35% leap in diesel. And somewhere in Hammanskraal, a mother lights a paraffin stove in a one-room shelter, three children studying by a flickering flame, wondering how she will make next week’s SASSA grant stretch to cover the hike. Just yesterday, labour federations announced coordinated action against this soaring cost of living, warning that workers are being “trapped” by rising prices, unem...

The Rooster’s Restoration: When Failure Becomes Your Foundation By Harold Mawela Akasia, Pretoria Scripture: “The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly.” (Luke 22:61-62) I woke up this past Tuesday to the sound of a rooster crowing somewhere in the dusty streets of Akasia. My neighbour, old Mr. Dlamini, keeps a few chickens in his backyard—much to the annoyance of the municipality, but that is a story for another day. That crow pierced the morning silence like a prophet’s whisper. And immediately, my mind went to Simon Peter. Now, let me be honest with you. For years, I preached Peter’s denial as a cautionary tale—a warning against pride, a lesson in failure. I stood behind pulpits in Mamelodi, in Soshanguve, in the city centre, and I would point my finger and say, “Don’t be like Peter! He boasted when he should have pray...

The Law of the Traitor's Kiss By Harold Mawela, Akasia, Pretoria Introduction: The Kiss That Killed Let me take you back to a night in my own Akasia neighbourhood—not long ago. My neighbour, a man I had shared bread with, prayed with, even lent my spare bedroom to when his wife threw him out, stood on my porch with tears streaming down his face. He had just discovered that his business partner—his brother from another mother—had siphoned nearly R800,000 from their joint account. "Pastor," he whispered, his voice cracking like dry earth after a long Highveld winter, "he kissed me on the cheek this morning and called me his brother." Imagine, if you will, a kiss used as a weapon. Not a bullet, not a knife, but a kiss. The same lips that murmured "Rabbi" formed the signal for execution. The same hand that dipped in the bowl pointed out the Lamb of God to the slaughterers. This is the Law of the Traitor's Kiss: The deepest wounds come not from enemies ...

The Approval Trap: Why Your Identity Cannot Afford to Be Democratically Determined Scripture: "The crowds that went ahead of him and those who followed shouted, 'Hosanna to the Son of David!'" — Matthew 21:9 I. A Story from Akasia Let me take you to a morning not so long ago. I was standing at the corner of Ben Schoeman and Sophie de Bruyn, waiting for a taxi to take me into the city. You know the scene—the hooting, the shouting, the chaotic symphony of survival that is our daily bread in Pretoria. A young man approached me. Clean suit, polished shoes, the confidence of someone who has just been promoted. He recognized me from a talk I gave at a men's conference in Mamelodi last year. "Bra Harold," he said, his voice carrying that particular vibration of someone who needs to offload something heavy, "I need to ask you something." We stood there, taxis swerving around us like iron fish in a concrete river, and he told me his story. Six months ag...

The Ministry of Angels: When Heaven’s Silent Warriors Work Your Comeback Scripture: “Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?” (Hebrews 1:14) I. The Question That Changes Everything Let me tell you about the morning I sat in my house in Akasia, watching the dust settle on my dining table like a silent accusation. It was 4:47 AM. I had been awake since three, wrestling with the kind of fear that doesn't announce itself—it simply occupies your chest like an illegal squatter. My daughter’s school fees were three months behind. The car had begun making that sound mechanics charge you R2,000 just to diagnose. And somewhere in the distance, I heard the familiar sound of the Johannesburg-bound taxis hooting, ferrying people to jobs I no longer had. I sat there, a man with a theology degree and an empty fridge, and I asked the question that feels almost blasphemous when you’re hungry: “God, where are You?” The writer of Hebrews asks a different...