Last Tuesday, Eskom plunged Akasia into Stage 6 darkness again. My living room became a cave of shadows, my Wi-Fi router a silent brick, and my fridge a lukewarm coffin for expired milk. Outside, the buzz of inverters mingled with the chorus of crickets—a distinctly South African symphony. My daughter, Botlalo, fumbled for candles, muttering about her unfinished homework. Chaos, right? But then, I remembered my grandmother’s old hymnbook gathering dust on the shelf.
**Praise as Rebellion**
In that moment, I didn’t *feel* like worshipping. My mind raced with headlines: corruption scandals siphoning billions, protests over water shortages in Hammanskraal, yet another politician’s empty promise. Lies, all of them—lies that scream, “God isn’t listening.” But faith, my friends, is not a *feeling*. It’s a rebellion. So, I lit a candle (ironic, given Eskom’s motto: “We bring darkness!”) and sang *Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika*—not the anthem, but the hymn. Botlalo rolled her eyes, then joined in. Slowly, the room felt lighter.
David knew this dissonance. In Psalm 34, he wrote, “I will bless the Lord *at all times*”—not *some* times, not *convenient* times—while hiding in a cave, fleeing a king who wanted him dead. Imagine that! A man with a price on his head, declaring God’s goodness. David’s praise wasn’t denial; it was defiance. He traded the echo of his fears for the echo of heaven.
**The Inverter Gospel**
Here’s the theological rub: Praise isn’t a magic spell. It’s an inverter. Just as my Huawei inverter stores energy to power my home when Eskom fails, worship stores *truth* to power our souls when the world’s systems crash. Jesus said, “The truth will set you free” (John 8:32), but lies thrive in silence. So, we counter them with a louder truth.
Take South Africa’s obsession with *load-shedding survival*. We’ve normalized chaos. We joke about it—*“Eskom se push!”*—but beneath the humor is a numbness to dysfunction. Similarly, we’ve normalized spiritual complacency. We scroll past news of gender-based violence and think, *“Ag, what can I do?”* But praise reawakens us. It’s the “spiritual load-shedding schedule” that says, *“No, darkness doesn’t get the last word.”*
**When Heaven Sings Back**
Modern philosophy loves to dissect “truth.” Postmodernism says it’s subjective; capitalism sells it as a commodity. But Scripture says Truth is a *Person* (John 14:6). When we praise, we don’t just recite facts—we encounter Him. Augustine called worship “the soul’s oxygen.” Kierkegaard said faith is a “passionate inwardness.” In my Akasia living room, it’s Botlalo’s off-key harmony mixing with the inverter’s hum, a reminder that God needs no Eskom to show up.
**The Playlist of Resistance**
What’s on your playlist? Mine includes Miriam Makeba’s *Pata Pata* (because joy is sacred), Soweto Gospel Choir’s *Asimbonanga* (for solidarity), and that viral TikTok hymn *Jireh* (don’t judge me). Every song is a weapon. Isaiah 54:17 says, “No weapon formed against you shall prosper,” but it doesn’t say weapons won’t *form*. Corruption, inequality, xenophobia—they’re real. But so is the God who dances over us (Zephaniah 3:17), even in the dark.
**Challenge: Be a Candle, Not a Curse**
Friends, we’re experts at cursing the darkness. But what if we lit candles instead? This week, when the lights drop, try this: Sing. Thank God for the stars you’ve forgotten how to see. Text that friend who’s battling depression. Plant a lemon tree in your yard (take that, water cuts!). Praise isn’t escapism—it’s guerrilla warfare.
As I write this, Eskom’s app pings: “Stage 4 from 8 PM.” *Sigh.* But my inverter’s charged, my playlist ready. The lies will come. But so will the Light.
**Final Thought:**
In a land where load-shedding and lies collide, let’s be the ones who hum hymns in the dark. After all, resurrection started in a tomb—and look how *that* turned out.
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