One afternoon, I found myself reflecting deeply on the nature of relationships—how profoundly we human beings are connected to one another, and how much we value those connections. Whether by blood, affection, ideology, or belief, relationships shape how we think, act, and prioritize our lives. And when those ties are strong, we are willing to go to great lengths for the people and causes we’re connected to.
My people have a saying: kwa mwendwa gutiri irima—to a lover’s home, there are no mountains. Love and loyalty blind us to the obstacles in the way. We’ll climb hills, cross valleys, and sacrifice comfort just to remain connected. We pour out energy, time, and even resources to maintain relationships—whether it’s with a spouse, a child, a political party, or a religious community. Relationships drive us. And yet, there is one relationship we often neglect—the most important one of all: our relationship with God.
Let me take you back to the last general election. I saw a man submit a large sum of money—proceeds from selling his only piece of land—to his political party. It was his way of proving allegiance. His devotion was deep, unquestionable. And he’s not alone. Across the country, men and women pour out their possessions, journey long distances, and endure physical exhaustion to support the political parties they love.
There was a woman I heard about who left her house around ten in the morning to go shopping. On her way, she encountered vehicles in a campaign convoy from the party she supported. She impulsively joined the parade. By the time she remembered her original errand, it was nearly midnight. That is the power of political loyalty.
In another case, a man was caught shoplifting at a local supermarket. Surveillance cameras captured him slipping merchandise into his pockets. When confronted, his response was heart-wrenching: “My children are starving. I cannot watch them die. Burn me alive if you must, but I will not sit and do nothing.” It was desperation born out of a father’s love. A man driven by his family bond. That relationship pushed him to the edge of morality.
We are bound tightly to our blood ties. Family obligations can pull us from meetings, make us cancel our plans, push us to make risky financial decisions, or compel us to stand in courts, hospitals, or graveyards without hesitation. That’s how strong these bonds are. We can abandon everything for those we love.
I once overheard two men talking in a matatu—public transport—as I was traveling home from work. One of them was deeply frustrated with his wife. She was constantly attending church meetings, prayer services, and fellowship gatherings. “She belongs to the Holiness and Repentance Ministry,” he complained. “She’s never home.” That conversation revealed another reality: some people are so devoted to their religious organizations that they will sacrifice friendships, jobs, and even families for them. Relationships with religious institutions can become all-consuming.
But here’s the question that pierced my heart: If we are willing to give everything to our spouses, children, political movements, and churches—what about God? What about the One who created us, who breathes life into our lungs, and who gave His only Son for our salvation? Where does that relationship rank?
Sadly, for many, the God-man relationship is the weakest. We don’t pour into it with the same passion, sacrifice, or loyalty. We don’t cry when it breaks down. We don’t mourn when we’re distant from Him. We don’t run to reconcile when our hearts grow cold. Most of us do not act as though our relationship with God is precious. It’s almost as if we can live comfortably while spiritually divorced.
How many young people suffer depression because of breakups, but feel nothing when they drift from God? How many employees feel miserable when they fall out with their boss, but don’t blink when they fall out of prayer or abandon Scripture? How many leaders plead for reinstatement into their political parties but show no urgency to restore fellowship with God?
It should trouble us. But most of the time, it doesn’t. We grow cold toward God and convince ourselves it’s freedom. We walk away from His presence and call it independence. We label obedience as slavery and distance ourselves in the name of self-discovery.
This is not new. The psalmist foresaw it clearly: "Why are the nations so angry? Why do they waste their time with futile plans? The kings of the earth prepare for battle; the rulers plot together against the LORD and against his anointed one. 'Let us break their chains,' they cry, 'and free ourselves from slavery to God.'" (Psalms 2:1–3, NLT).
In our quest for freedom, we break ties with the only One who can give true liberty. And just like a broken earthly marriage, the separation from God always leaves scars. There is a spiritual trauma in walking away from our Maker, but we’ve become too numb to feel it.
Have you divorced God? What pushed you away? Was it suffering, unanswered prayer, personal failure, the lure of the world? In human relationships, divorce is often triggered by issues like selfishness, abuse, money, infidelity, and poor communication. But when it comes to God, what is His offense? What has He done to deserve our silence, our neglect, our rebellion?
Listen to the tender voice of God in Micah 6:3: "O my people, what have I done to you? What have I done to make you tired of me? Answer me!" (NLT).
God is not indifferent. He notices when our hearts drift. He longs for restoration. And yet, the fault lies with us. We treat Him as disposable. We cut Him off when life gets too busy, or when our expectations aren’t met. We choose fleeting satisfaction over eternal truth. But despite our unfaithfulness, God waits. Like a faithful spouse longing for reconciliation, He stands at the door of our hearts, knocking.
If only we could cultivate our relationship with God the way we do others. Imagine what would happen if we prayed as passionately as we campaign. If we studied the Bible with the same attention, we give political manifestos. If we gave our money with the same loyalty we give to parties and clubs. Imagine a people obsessed with God—not just on Sundays, but every day. Not just in public, but in private. Not just when things are good, but even when they’re not.
It’s time we restore what we’ve broken. The God-man relationship is the foundation of noble character. Without it, all other relationships suffer. We must water that relationship, feed it with devotion, protect it from corrosion. It is the one bond that defines all others.
Let your heart build a pillar that says: I will not divorce God. I will nurture my relationship with Him above all else. For from Him comes my identity, my purpose, and my eternal home.
My people have a saying: kwa mwendwa gutiri irima—to a lover’s home, there are no mountains. Love and loyalty blind us to the obstacles in the way. We’ll climb hills, cross valleys, and sacrifice comfort just to remain connected. We pour out energy, time, and even resources to maintain relationships—whether it’s with a spouse, a child, a political party, or a religious community. Relationships drive us. And yet, there is one relationship we often neglect—the most important one of all: our relationship with God.
Let me take you back to the last general election. I saw a man submit a large sum of money—proceeds from selling his only piece of land—to his political party. It was his way of proving allegiance. His devotion was deep, unquestionable. And he’s not alone. Across the country, men and women pour out their possessions, journey long distances, and endure physical exhaustion to support the political parties they love.
There was a woman I heard about who left her house around ten in the morning to go shopping. On her way, she encountered vehicles in a campaign convoy from the party she supported. She impulsively joined the parade. By the time she remembered her original errand, it was nearly midnight. That is the power of political loyalty.
In another case, a man was caught shoplifting at a local supermarket. Surveillance cameras captured him slipping merchandise into his pockets. When confronted, his response was heart-wrenching: “My children are starving. I cannot watch them die. Burn me alive if you must, but I will not sit and do nothing.” It was desperation born out of a father’s love. A man driven by his family bond. That relationship pushed him to the edge of morality.
We are bound tightly to our blood ties. Family obligations can pull us from meetings, make us cancel our plans, push us to make risky financial decisions, or compel us to stand in courts, hospitals, or graveyards without hesitation. That’s how strong these bonds are. We can abandon everything for those we love.
I once overheard two men talking in a matatu—public transport—as I was traveling home from work. One of them was deeply frustrated with his wife. She was constantly attending church meetings, prayer services, and fellowship gatherings. “She belongs to the Holiness and Repentance Ministry,” he complained. “She’s never home.” That conversation revealed another reality: some people are so devoted to their religious organizations that they will sacrifice friendships, jobs, and even families for them. Relationships with religious institutions can become all-consuming.
But here’s the question that pierced my heart: If we are willing to give everything to our spouses, children, political movements, and churches—what about God? What about the One who created us, who breathes life into our lungs, and who gave His only Son for our salvation? Where does that relationship rank?
Sadly, for many, the God-man relationship is the weakest. We don’t pour into it with the same passion, sacrifice, or loyalty. We don’t cry when it breaks down. We don’t mourn when we’re distant from Him. We don’t run to reconcile when our hearts grow cold. Most of us do not act as though our relationship with God is precious. It’s almost as if we can live comfortably while spiritually divorced.
How many young people suffer depression because of breakups, but feel nothing when they drift from God? How many employees feel miserable when they fall out with their boss, but don’t blink when they fall out of prayer or abandon Scripture? How many leaders plead for reinstatement into their political parties but show no urgency to restore fellowship with God?
It should trouble us. But most of the time, it doesn’t. We grow cold toward God and convince ourselves it’s freedom. We walk away from His presence and call it independence. We label obedience as slavery and distance ourselves in the name of self-discovery.
This is not new. The psalmist foresaw it clearly: "Why are the nations so angry? Why do they waste their time with futile plans? The kings of the earth prepare for battle; the rulers plot together against the LORD and against his anointed one. 'Let us break their chains,' they cry, 'and free ourselves from slavery to God.'" (Psalms 2:1–3, NLT).
In our quest for freedom, we break ties with the only One who can give true liberty. And just like a broken earthly marriage, the separation from God always leaves scars. There is a spiritual trauma in walking away from our Maker, but we’ve become too numb to feel it.
Have you divorced God? What pushed you away? Was it suffering, unanswered prayer, personal failure, the lure of the world? In human relationships, divorce is often triggered by issues like selfishness, abuse, money, infidelity, and poor communication. But when it comes to God, what is His offense? What has He done to deserve our silence, our neglect, our rebellion?
Listen to the tender voice of God in Micah 6:3: "O my people, what have I done to you? What have I done to make you tired of me? Answer me!" (NLT).
God is not indifferent. He notices when our hearts drift. He longs for restoration. And yet, the fault lies with us. We treat Him as disposable. We cut Him off when life gets too busy, or when our expectations aren’t met. We choose fleeting satisfaction over eternal truth. But despite our unfaithfulness, God waits. Like a faithful spouse longing for reconciliation, He stands at the door of our hearts, knocking.
If only we could cultivate our relationship with God the way we do others. Imagine what would happen if we prayed as passionately as we campaign. If we studied the Bible with the same attention, we give political manifestos. If we gave our money with the same loyalty we give to parties and clubs. Imagine a people obsessed with God—not just on Sundays, but every day. Not just in public, but in private. Not just when things are good, but even when they’re not.
It’s time we restore what we’ve broken. The God-man relationship is the foundation of noble character. Without it, all other relationships suffer. We must water that relationship, feed it with devotion, protect it from corrosion. It is the one bond that defines all others.
Let your heart build a pillar that says: I will not divorce God. I will nurture my relationship with Him above all else. For from Him comes my identity, my purpose, and my eternal home.
