Failure Isn't Final. Harold Mawela

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” (Zechariah 4:10, NLT) Beloved in Christ, I greet you from my home here in Akasia, Pretoria—a place where the morning sun rises over the Magaliesberg and the dust of daily struggle settles on every pavement. This morning, as I walked through my neighborhood, I saw a young mother walking three kilometers to the taxi rank because the potholes on her street have destroyed the minibus route. I saw a young man sitting on a curb, scrolling his phone for job listings that never come. I heard a grandmother praying in Zulu over her empty pot, asking God for just enough mealie-meal to see her grandchildren through another night. And I asked myself: Where is the righteousness in this? Scripture is clear: "The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all" (Psalm 34:19). But standing here in South Africa in 2026, where 66% of our people live below the poverty line, wher...

The Forge of Faith “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep Your word.” (Psalm 119:67) Introduction: The Altar of Apparent Adversity Let me tell you something today, my beloved brother, my beautiful sister in Christ. There is a furnace I have come to love. Not the furnace that melts gold, I am no metallurgist. Not the furnace of a power station we have had enough darkness in this country, praise God the lights have stayed on for over a year now. No, I speak of a furnace far more ancient and far more necessary: the Furnace of Affliction. The obstacle is not the barrier, no. Say it with me: The obstacle is the doorway. You see, I live in Akasia, north of Pretoria. Every morning, when I step onto my stoep and look toward the Magaliesberg, I remember that the mountain did not become a monument by being comfortable. It was pushed up from the depths by fire and pressure. And you, child of God, are no different. The Scripture declares unequivocally: “Before I was afflicted I went...

The summer heat hangs thick over Akasia as I sit at Wonder Park Mall, sipping rooibos tea. Before me, a young woman photographs her gourmet burger for Instagram—angling, filtering, staging. Across the food court, a man in a sharp suit scrolls through his phone, jaw tightening as he watches a colleague’s promotion video. Neither knows the other exists. Yet both are trapped in the same invisible cage: the cell of comparison. Last week, I visited my friend Thabo in Soshanguve. His neighbor, a spaza shop owner, just bought a new double-cab bakkie. Thabo spent the entire evening calculating payment plans, measuring his life against a man drowning in debt—a man who confessed to me later that he lies awake at 2 AM, unable to sleep from the pressure of monthly instalments. "The grass is greener where you water it," my grandmother used to say. But we’ve forgotten how to water our own lawns. Instead, we stare over the fence, calculating, coveting, corroding. 🧠 I. Define Your Terms: Th...

 The Fire of the Flesh Scripture: "He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city." (Proverbs 16:32) A Personal Confession from Akasia Let me tell you about last Tuesday. There I was, standing in the queue at the Soshanguve Crossing taxi rank after a long day of writing. The sun was punishing—that dry Pretoria heat that makes asphalt shimmer like a false promise. I had just watched a man push past fifteen people, including an elderly gogo carrying a bag of mealie meal, to claim a taxi that wasn't his. The fire rose in my chest. You know the fire—that sudden, volcanic heat that travels from your stomach to your throat, demanding release. My mouth opened. Words formed like arrows on a bowstring. And then I heard the Spirit whisper: "Harold, the fire you are about to release will burn you first." I closed my mouth. Swallowed the fury. Watched the man disappear into the taxi, oblivious to how close he had come...

 The Garden of Your Waking Gaze Scripture: "We take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." (2 Corinthians 10:5) I. The First War You Fight Each Morning Let me tell you something I learned the hard way, sitting here in Akasia, Pretoria, where the Jacarandas drop their purple flowers like God's own confetti—but also where the alarm clock screams at 4:30 AM like a summons to battle. Three years ago, I woke up to the news of another stage of loadshedding. You know the feeling. That moment before your eyes open, when the weight of South Africa the potholes, the petrol price, the taxi violence, the WhatsApp message you didn't reply to yesterday drops onto your chest like a bag of wet cement. My first thought that morning was not a prayer. It was a complaint. A poison. A seed I didn't even know I was planting. And by noon, that seed had grown thorns that drew blood from my wife, my children, and my own soul. The Scripture declares unequivocally: Your mind ...

 THE PULSE OF THE PRESENT Why Your Today Is Too Precious to Waste on Yesterday’s Echo Scripture: “This is the day the Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24) I. The Crash That Taught Me the Value of Vibration I remember the morning like it was this morning. It was a Tuesday unremarkable, ordinary, the kind of day you forget before it ends. I was driving down the N1 towards Pretoria CBD, the Jacaranda blooms painting the road purple, when my phone buzzed with a news alert. “Unemployment surges to 32.7% in first quarter of 2026.” I sighed. Another statistic. Another headline. Another reminder that the patient is still bleeding. But before I could swipe the notification away, the car in front of me slammed its brakes. I swerved. The taxi beside me one of those overloaded, exhaust-spewing warriors of the road—honked with the fury of a wounded buffalo. For three terrifying seconds, I felt the pulse of the present like I had never felt it before. The thumping of...