“Listen! Behold, a sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured it. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and immediately it sprang up, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. And other seeds fell into good soil and produced grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold” (Mark 4:3-8).
The Dark Soil of Nakuru
There are parts of Nakuru, Kenya, known for poverty, addiction, crime, and hopelessness. In April 2001, we conducted an outreach at the Ponda Mali Grounds, in the middle of one of the city’s most desperate neighborhoods. The streets were filled with children, their noses burned from sniffing glue—an escape from a reality that told them they had no future. It was in this setting that we witnessed the miraculous power of the Gospel.
One evening, as the Gospel was preached, a man named Daniel listened from his kiosk. Something stirred in his heart. As we were closing the service, he came running out of the darkness. His frantic cries—“Is it too late? Is it too late?”—startled us. The pastors intercepted him, unsure of his intent. Gaining composure, Daniel explained, “I was at my kiosk, and as you were preaching, I saw a vision of Jesus on the cross. I had to come, but I couldn’t find anyone to watch my kiosk. Tell me, am I too late to be saved?”
That night, Daniel and I prayed together, and his journey with Christ began.
The Seed Takes Root
None of us could have imagined where Daniel’s decision would take him. He studied the Word, fasted, and prayed. He began evangelizing his hometown of Mayanja, a farming community near the Ugandan border. The land there is rich, perfect for growing crops, but tradition keeps the people bound to corn, even when it threatens their survival. In much the same way, their spiritual lives were entrenched in ancestral worship and witchcraft, keeping them from the freedom found in Christ.
A year later, we traveled west from Nakuru for eight days of ministry in Mayanja. We planned the outreach around the local market, ensuring the largest possible audience. As the week progressed, hearts softened. On the final night, I preached on breaking free from the bondage of curses: “Pull down the altar of Baal that your father has, and cut down the Asherah that is beside it and build an altar to the LORD your God on the top of the stronghold here…” (Judges 6:25-26).
Twenty people responded to the altar call. Among them was Wafula, a local witchdoctor who had resisted night after night. But on this night, the Word broke through. His salvation sent shockwaves through the community—a declaration that the power of the enemy had been broken.
A Harvest of Souls
On Sunday, we opened a new church in Mayanja, filled beyond capacity. Over 100 people crammed inside, with many more listening from outside. What moved me most was that nearly everyone in attendance was either a newly born-again believer or part of the ministry team. All of it traced back to one man’s desperate plea: “Is it too late?”
The parable in Mark 4 reminds us that the Gospel falls on different types of hearts. Daniel’s life is a testament to a heart that welcomed the Word and held it dear until it produced a great harvest. He remained in Mayanja for a few years to help the church stabilize, then went on to spread the same Gospel message across Kenya.
So, is it too late? No. You are right on time.