Hello.
So, if you’re new here, this is Monique’s Musings. I blog. I’ve been blogging since… 2013? Or no, maybe 2012? Yeah, one of those. Anyway, I’ve been blogging for over 10 years now. And I basically share my thoughts on anything and everything that comes to mind. Usually, it’s thoughts about Cameroon, social issues, my own experiences as a Cameroonian woman, an African feminist, my Christian walk… reflections on my faith journey, or anything else I’m learning in the season of life I’m in.
That’s what this blog is. And today? Whew. Today’s one of those days when the idea trickled down to me over time. It came in pieces, not all at once. But today… Today was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It said, “Okay, it’s time. Talk about this.”
So, it started a few days or weeks ago, I can’t remember now, I came across a funny skit by this Nigerian Christian comedian I follow (SEE HERE). He’s really good, makes great content. He did this skit about Paul writing a letter to one of the churches, and in the skit, the elders or the people in the church were threatening Paul. They were like, “We will call Stephen’s brother.”
Now, if you know, you know. Stephen was one of the people Paul (then Saul) had killed. So “We will call Stephen’s brother” is like a backhand slap threat. It’s the line that would really ‘check’ someone like Paul. The comments section was wild. People were like, “Yep, that’s the one. Call Stephen’s brother.”
And it made me think, because I’ve actually thought about Stephen’s brother before. In the past, when I’ve read Acts, I’ve wondered: how did Stephen’s brother or family feel? Scripture tells us they didn’t immediately trust Paul, but I imagine some never did. I imagine some people stayed pissed—rightfully so. Because think about it… the person who persecuted you, who has literal blood on their hands, is now showing up to preach to you? Nah.
And that is actually what I want to talk about today.
Because life is funny. And this Christian journey? This Christian journey is messed up, let me not lie. It’s not for the faint of heart. It’s not for the easily triggered. Because you will be triggered. Regularly. I get triggered on a regular basis.
So, fast forward from that skit to about a week later. Here I am, having my own real-life Stephen Brother moment. Someone I know (I’m not saying he used to be Saul, but let’s say he wasn’t exactly the most upright, or the most obviously Christian person previously) is now telling me, who has been trying my best on this journey for years, that they got a certain blessing or breakthrough because they “started serving God.” As if it’s a magic formula. Like, “You know, I just started walking with God and boom, this happened.” And they’re telling me this like I’m not already walking with God? Like… wow. The audacity.
And it’s not even that they’re necessarily wrong. I’m not saying they’re not telling the truth. I’m just saying… maybe don’t come at me like that? Maybe don’t assume I’m not already doing the things? Maybe don’t act like you’re automatically ahead of me because you got some blessings?
Because here’s the thing, it’s not about how long you’ve known God. That’s not how it works. Whether I’ve been a Christian for 5 or 25 years, there are seasons to this thing. And I feel like that’s what some people don’t get. Some people think seasons are measured by prosperity. They think that if I’m married this season, have a job, and things are going well, then clearly I’m doing something right and God is pleased with me. But if I’m in a rough season, if I’m confused or struggling, then I must not be walking with God properly.
We’ve taken capitalism, market analysis, and imported it into Christianity.
So now, when someone’s life is flourishing, they assume it’s proof that they’re in the right with God. And when someone else is struggling, it’s assumed they’re not faithful or they’re doing something wrong. Like… huh?
So here I am, sitting in front of this guy—not saying he’s Saul, but you get the point—and he’s basically telling me, “If you were following the Lord properly, all this would’ve come to you too.” Like… like it’s a formula. Just plug in prayer and service, and voilà, blessings.
And I’m sitting there thinking… this must be how the early Christians felt. Like… Stephen’s brother. Because maybe Stephen’s brother didn’t get the gift Paul got. Maybe he was a believer, but didn’t get the same signs, the same fire, the same calling. And then he watches the guy who killed his brother now become the face of Christianity. Paul becomes the one doing miracles, planting churches, and writing scripture. Meanwhile, your brother-the first martyr—is barely mentioned after that. You’re grieving. You’re angry. You’re healing—trying to heal—and the guy who caused your pain is now being worshipped for raising someone else from the dead. But your brother stayed dead.
And I’m just thinking about how many Christians are like Stephen’s brother—faithful, committed, but grieving. Struggling. Angry with God, even. Not because they don’t love Him, but because this walk is hard, and sometimes it feels unfair. And because it’s seasonal. There are seasons when you’re joyful, when you’re full of hope, when you’re winning souls left and right. And then there are seasons where you’re just… numb. Angry. Confused. But that doesn’t make you less saved.
And the people who just joined, the ones who are new to the faith and still in their honeymoon phase—they look at you and judge. The audacity.
So yes. Today’s post is me speaking for all the Stephens’ brothers out there. I see you. I get you. Heck, I am you.
And I wish someone, such as a pastor or a teacher, would deliver a proper sermon on this. Like, really break it down. Do the exegesis. Because the church needs to discuss the seasons of this journey more. We need to know that just because you’re not thriving doesn’t mean you’re out of the fold. Just because you’re not “feeling it” doesn’t mean your faith is fake.
And also, gifts are not the sign. The blessings are not the sign. The miracles are not the sign. God gives gifts and blessings even to people who don’t believe in Him. The real sign? The fruit.
It’s by their fruit you shall know them.
And the fruit is not loud or flashy. It’s patience. Self-control. Kindness. And that’s the fruit I’m trying to hold onto. Even when I feel like snapping. Even when I feel like correcting someone with fire, I’m trying to go for a walk instead. I hope Stephen’s brother went for a walk. I hope he said, “You know what, Paul, go and preach to the Ephesians. I’ll go minister in Ethiopia.”
Because this journey? This Christian journey?
Whew. It will drain you.
But you’re not alone.
And fruit still counts.
—M.
