Sunday 29 May 2011

THE SPIRIT OF GOD MAY CHOOSE TO USE YOU

It is always good to be reminded of the precision timing of our miracle working God's acts of love and grace.

In Kloof, Kwa-Zulu Natal, resides a couple, in their thirties, who had been married for approximately 10 years and were childless.

They had been praying for a child for most of that time. Prophecies assuring them of God's answer to their prayers had been spoken over and into their lives and they had been waiting faithfully, albeit somewhat impatiently at times.

I visited their cell group one evening - it was on a 9th of June and during the time we spent ministering to one another and praying for one another's prayer requests, the subject was again taken to God in prayer.

I queried afterwards whether they had considered adoption and they replied that they had a bad experience during an interview with a certain Welfare Society. It was so unpleasant that they decided to leave the matter as it stood.

It turned out that they were unaware of the existence of a Christian Adoption Society that had just opened offices in our church complex.

I recommended that they "telephone the office the next morning and make urgent application as I felt that God was going to do a miracle for them in the very near future". I recall repeating the necessity for them to act urgently. Where these words came from I did not know. I also remember thinking to myself as I was driving home that night: "...and what if God does not do something very soon?"

Reading Ruth Ward Heflin's book "River Glory" recently, I was reminded of this situation as she wrote, and I quote:

"Sometimes, when I was asked a question, it seemed as if I was looking on as someone else gave the answer. I was listening to myself answer, and I was hearing the answer for the first time, just like the person I was speaking to. I certainly could not take credit later for what was said." (p123)

"When we think about what we should say in a certain situation, more often than not nothing comes to us. When the moment arrives, however, and a word is suddenly dropped into our spirits and we are given the authority to speak it, we have to ask, 'where did that come from'?" (P 125)

This describes exactly how I felt about urging them to apply urgently. I certainly did not know what God had in mind.

The wife telephoned the office the next morning, and it was arranged that the forms would be available for me to pick up and hand to her at the Sunday morning service, being 13 June.

The forms were duly completed, handed in a the office and an interview beween the adoption society and couple followed shortly thereafter.

Some weeks later, again visiting their cell group, the wife shared that she was feeling very depressed, because the organization had contacted them a while before mentioning that a baby was available and then everything fell through. This plunged her into a state of depression, her hopes having been raised in vain. To crown it all, she had heard that she would have to find other employment, as her employers were experiencing problems. She then heard of a vey good position, was granted an appointment for an interview, and came the day of the interview she was unable to keep the appointment because she was too ill with a stomach bug! It seemed to her that God was not being quite fair in her circumstances, raising her hopes in both instances only to have them dashed again. We encouraged her to keep her eyes on the Lord and not on circumstances, not understanding the turn of events ourselves.

Then, one ordinary Friday morning in November, they received a telephone call from the offices of the adoption society to fetch their 5-month old baby girl! Gratitude and ecstasy ruled to say the very least!

The Wednesday evening following we all traipsed off to their cell group meeting again, armed with flowers, gifts and lots of wonderful goodies to eat to celebrate this wonderful miraculous gift from the Lord. While there, holding this beautiful, wide-mouthed, hairless, dimpled, gift from God, the question that arose in my mind, was: "Exactly when was this baby born?"

Hold onto your seats: June 12!

At that precise moment I could not recall the exact date on which they first applied although excitement at what I was beginning to understand was rising up inside me - a telephone call on Thursday morning confirmed the dates as set out above!

Needless to say, the new mom now knows exactly why she did not get to go to the interview for the new job and why her post became redundant at the old one!

Do we serve a mighty, awesome God?

       "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever." Heb. 13:8

       "And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
       Now to our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen." Phil. 4:19

Thank you, Lord, that even though we may be unaware that words have been dropped into our spirit to share with those needing assistance or comfort, You have chosen each one of them at precisely the right time in the right circumstances. Thank You that You are in every circumstance, and are truly able to supply all our needs.

(Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)

Saturday 28 May 2011

SONDER GOD

se asem
was ek nie eens 'n wasem
damp
teen 'n vensterruit...

Thursday 26 May 2011

Nog 'n dag

Die oggendblad het vanoggend met groot opskrif  aangekondig dat die 2010 Matrieks  vandag  hulle uitslae te sien sal kry…’n waterskeidingsoomblik vir baie wanneer hulle deurstap na die studentelewe of grootmenswêreld  waarin hulle op hulself aangewese sal wees  vir hulle daaglikse brood – dis nou te sê as  hulle  so gelukkig  is om ‘n betrekking  te  bekom.  Vir ander sal dit groot teleurstelling,  miskien selfs  wanhoop, inhou.  Een  jong  vriendinnetjie  wat deur moeilike tye gegaan het  hierdie jaar,  se  ma  het  nou net jubelend  laat weet dat  sy  vrystelling  vir  universiteit  het! Nou    die  toekoms oop voor haar!

Padsterftes op  ons  land se paaie is steeds ‘n bron van uiterste bekommernis. Mense van alle ouderdomme word van hul lewens beroof.

Vloedwaters, asgevolg  van aanhoudende reën, eis  vyf  lewens  in Kwazulu-Natal, en ‘n dogtertjie van net ses jaar oud  verdrink  toe  sy probeer om haar sussie van vier te red. Waar was hulle ouers op daardie oomblik?

Die Bloemhofdam  in die Vaalrivier oorstroom  en  miljoene  rande se skade word  vir die tweede  agtereenlopende  jaar aan talle eiendomme veroorsaak. Hoekom het  niemand  behoorlike navorsing gedoen voordat die eiendomme in die eerste plek ontwikkel is nie?

Gister was die hoogste grade in ons land  aangeteken 42 grade C. in Vreden-dal en die Paarl, Kaapprovinsie. Aardverhitting is meer as ‘n mite.

‘n ANC-hoë se stoflike oorskot is in ‘n bos in Bosbokrand  gevind, nadat  hy  vermoedelik  by  sy  huis deur drie mans oorval is.  Daar  word beweer  hy is verskeie kere geskiet. Ek wonder altyd of dit werklik as die maklikste uitweg gesien word wanneer iemand ‘n moord pleeg.

Nog ‘n man verdrink in die Strand.
 

‘n Foutiewe  valhek by ‘n spooroorgang  veroorsaak ‘n ongeluk. Die motoris is gelukkig om die ongeluk te oorleef.

‘n Renosterkalfie wat einde verlede jaar verdwyn het nadat sy ma in ‘n mis-daad strooptog doodgemaak is, is steeds weg en alhoewel vermoed word dat hy steeds in die  Mafikeng wildreservaat is, kon hy nog  nie opgespoor  word nie. Hoekom sê ons nie “toe sy ma vermoor is deur stropers” nie?

Jacques  Kallis  teken  twee  honderdtalle  aan  in die  derde toets  teen Indië. Sekerlik is hy een van  Suid-Afrika se helde, indien  nie ikone…en definitief iets vir die skonergeslag (hoekom skoner?) om na te kyk…

Drie ouens wat skelm kreef gestroop en na Amerika uitgevoer het, gaan mil-joene  moet  opdok  aan Suid-Afrika vir hul eiegeregtige, kwaadwillige stro-ping van ons seewaters.

‘n Suid-Afrikaanse aktrise word  in  Djakarta, Indonesië, met dwelms betrap en in hegtenis geneem. Wanneer gaan ons leer?

‘n  Amerikaanse  student  het  haar enkel verstuit op Tafelberg en word deur reddingswerkers  op ‘n  draagbaar afgedra na veiligheid.  Sy sal die Berg om meer as een rede onthou.

Internet sal  vanaf 1 Mei 2011 dwarsoor Afrika in vliegtuie beskikbaar wees. Sodat ons  nog  langer  werksure  kan  insit?  Nog minder afskakel van al die dinge wat ons stresvlakke opjaag?

Volgens Open Doors het  die  posisie van Christene wat in die minderheid is in Moslemlande die afgelope jaar baie versleg. Soos gewoonlik hoor ons nie ‘n ‘piep’ uit Christene oor hierdie toedrag van sake nie. Is dit omdat ons ‘die ander wang draai’? Of omdat ‘die liefde alles glo, alles bedek’?

Daar was ‘n  bloedbad in Egipte… herinner  aan die tyd toe die Nyl  in bloed verander het?

Vloede  in  Australië  het ‘n ongekende  skaal  bereik  en  bedreig  die  Groot Koraalrif, terwyl 22 stede en dorpe in Queensland onder water is.
 
Bobby  Farrell, die  hoofsanger  van  Boney M  is oorlede  asgevolg  van  ‘n harttoestand. Sy lyk is  in sy hotelkamer  in St. Petersburg,  Rusland, gevind.

St. Petersburg is ook  die plek waar Tjaikovski en Rumski Korsikov begrawe lê.  Hulle grafte is nog steeds te sien  in ‘n baie ou begrafplaas vir al die Russiese kunstenaars.

Die  Skotse sanger, Gerry Rafferty, sterf  aan  lewerversaking. Hy  was maar 63 jaar oud.

In  Frankryk  is ‘n nuwe  motorradio bekend  gestel wat spoedlokvalle, goed-koper petrol  pryse  en  gratis parkeerplek  vir motoriste  kan opspoor, en kan bel terwyl jy musiek luister. Ek hou van die spoedlokval opsporingsgedeelte. Dit verraai baie omtrent my bestuursgewoontes…

En, en, en…. Dwarsoor die wêreld het elke dag genoeg van sy eie kwaad en darem ook  so  hier  en  daar ‘n  wonderwerkie  of twee wat geskied. ‘n Kind wat gebore word; iemand wat 100 jaar oud word; 60 jaar getroude lewe vier; ‘n nuwe  uitvindsel  wat  ons  almal  se lewens  beinvloed of  hoop  bring vir mense wat andersins net op die dood sit en wag… mense wat na weke onder in ‘n myn gered word…maar meeste  van  die  tyd verloop  ons  lewens  baie eentonig (mooi woord)  aan…dag vir dag… uur vir uur… sodat  ons  nie ag-terkom dat ons uurglas stadig, so stadig,  besig is om deur te loop en ons dae iewers afgetel word en besig is om voltallig te word.

“Three score plus ten… and if you are very strong 80 years”…

Toe  tel  ek  mos  nou die dag: dan het ek ongeveer 2000 dae oor – dis nou as ek tel tot by die “three score plus ten” – skielik  wil ek die horlosie se wysers vasgryp; daaraan hang – sê: “Hei, wag net so ‘n bietjie, maatjies, daar  is nog baie  wat  ek  wil doen. Julle moet nou nie staan en weghol vir my nie… Ho-kaai! Briek aandraai!” Maar hulle steur hulle min!

Nou  sit ek  vanaand  hier op die stoep van ‘n oorvol restaurant, op diè warm Kaapse   someraand,  op ‘n  houtbankie,  langs  ‘n   houttafeltjie,  oorkant  ‘n blonde man met ‘n Namakwalandse sin vir humor en ‘n  snor  waarin die sil-


wer  blink in die lig.  Hy’t ook al,  soos ek, ‘n paar myl gestap deur die lewe; sy drome  gedroom; sy  keuses  gemaak; sy  planne  beraam; sy  mislukkings betreur; sy  suksesse gevier; sy verdriet geleef; sy  foute  oorleef; sy toekoms bedink.

Maar  vanaand sit ons hier. Op die restaurant se vol stoep. Borde geurige kos voor ons.  Hy  lig  sy  hand  van  die  tafelblad… ek sit  my  hand  daarin,  sy vingers  maak  toe, sy    ook  en hy dank die Hoërhand vir dit wat ons  nou  gaan geniet… en  vir nou is hierdie oomblik en God  se  seën op hierdie bord kos vir my genoeg.




DIE LEWE IS 'N LIED

Die lewe is 'n lied
en jy my vriend 'n skitterblink diamant
glesloos, en geslyp in God se hand.
Solank ek aan jou arm hang
verhelder jou glans ook my lewensgang.

Wednesday 25 May 2011

UNSUNG HERO'S AND HEROINES

There have been many unsung hero's and heroines in this world and tonight I had the privilege of meeting one of them.

"Tannie Jakoba" is 83 years old. She is now living and lovingly being cared for by her nephew and his wife and is a softly spoken, humble lady.

       "He grants the barren woman a home, like a joyful mother of children. Praise the
        Lord."  Ps. 113:9

We had the privilege of visiting and talking to her for a while. What an interesting, loving, caring life she led. She was a housemother in a boardinghouse founded for the  care of crippled children. During the 1960's, the general schools and boardinghouses did not have facilities to accommodate children in wheelchairs. At first, at this specific boardinghouse, they catered mostly for children who had suffered from poliomyelitis.  Later, when this disease was controlled by vaccinations, children suffering the loss of limbs, or paralysis, and in wheelchairs or on crutches as a result of motor vehicle accidents, or born handicapped, were also accommo-dated.

Tannie Jakoba never married or had children of her own, but for 35 years of her life she was a mother to children too numerous for her to remember. She may not be able to recall exactly how many children she cared for and helped raise during the 35 years, but it is obvious that they meant a lot to her and her loving care equally meant much to them. Some of them still visit he from time to time.

     "Take heed that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that in heaven
      their angels always see the face of My Father who is in heaven." Matt. 18: 10

She recently spent two weeks with a married couple, both of whom were accommodated at the boardinghouse in Kimberley. They, in turn, lovingly donated a much-needed wheelchair to her. There is an original painting hanging in tannie Jacoba's bedroom painted by an artist who also lived in the boardinghouse and who paints with her paintbrushes strapped to her head as she does not have the use of her hands. It is a beautiful peaceful landscape and it is obvious that it is a cherished treasure of tannie Jakoba's.

Reflecting on her life, the biblical figure that comes to mind is a lady named Tabitha, or Dorcas, who lived in Joppa. She was so well loved because of her caring life and good deeds that God raised her from the dead through the ministry of the apostle Peter, and there was great rejoicing amongst her many friends and beneficiaries.

     "He who has pity on the poor lends to the Lord, and He will pay back what he has given."
      Prov.19:17

Tannie Jakoba underwent a hip replacement operation about ten months ago, but walked us to the door as we bid her a fond good-bye. She still regularly attends our Sunday morning church services.

Thank you, Lord, for loving, caring persons in whose hearts you have instilled the love described in 1 Cor. 13. Thank you that each one of us may help shape the lives of those around us by sharing Your love. Help us to see the ned around us.

(Scriptures taken from the New King james Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)

Tuesday 24 May 2011

DON'T WORRY; BE HAPPY

It has been an exceptionally long, cold, wet winter in the Western Cape this year, but today the sky is a faded blue and Spring is, at last, in the air. A light breeze gently ruffles the delicate wild flowers at the roadside and further afield. The majestic arum lily with her smooth green foliage, her velvety cream skirt and strong, yellow, grainy pistil remains the queen of the veld. With dignity and poise the lifts her calyx in worship to her Maker.

A bright red finch whooshes up and away, startled by the humming of the car's engine, whilst, of all creatures, a mole, who is supposed to be blind, is nonchalantly craning its neck from left to right before attempting to cross the N27 on his own steam. And I think to myself: "If the Lord is not merciful to you today..."

We stop and visit the wild flower and orchid shows at Mamre and Darling. We stare in awe at the beautiful colors of the flowers on exhibition: white, cream, yellow, orange, pink, magenta, blue, purple, and red. There is a large variety with which, as a child, I was well acquainted. It is exciting to recognize them and even remember some of the names: Daisies, Chincerinchees, Kalkoentjies, Pypies, Fruitangs, Surings. We stroll throught the flea market, and buy two pairs of brightly colored socks for my youngest who will be leaving for the USA in three weeks' time. She also is trying to cross a road, fight her pain, begin again on the other side of the world and a mother's heart calls out to God for her daughter (and at some level also for the mole).

And I can hear my Creator say:

     "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will
      your Father who is in heaven, give good things to those who ask Him."  Matt. 7:11

      "Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, yet your
       heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ...Consider the lilies of
       the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon
       in all his glory was not arayed like one of these...Therefore do not worry about tomorrow,
       for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." 
       Matt. 6:26-29. 34

Thank you, Lord, that you are already in the future - that we need to trust and to know that You know, care and will take care of tomorrow because You are merciful and Your loving kindness endures for evermore.

2008

(Scriptures taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)

Monday 23 May 2011

DIE NERINA'S BLOM

Kom nader, my kind, kom staan hier by my;
sien hoe teen die asuurblou lug
skelpienk trompette skal in helder middaglig.
Kyk hoe dans die stingels grasieus
op maat van die suid-ooste wind, my kind.

Hoor my roep, maak gou, maak haastig, kom kyk!
Te gou is die kortstondige seisoen verby en
is verdorde knolle onder kluite grond
àl wat van oorvloedige uitbundigheid bly...

Sunday 22 May 2011

A VISIT TO THE ZOO

This morning we took a ride to the local zoo, along the Stellenbosch/Klipheuwel Road.

We had not been to a zoological garden for many years, and thoroughly enjoyed looking at the various animals in their respective enclosures. The cheetah was hiding and not to be viewed; we saw lions and a very large, very handsome, lazy leopard.

Two 'sacred' baboons from Eastern Africa, a male and female, were sitting demurely together on a perch against the wire fencing staring directly over our heads. They seemed quite oblivious of our presence. No matter how many diversions we tried to create, they disdainfully ignored us and proceeded to stare at something invisible to us mere mortals. Just as we got bored and prepared to move away a parks attendant approached with their daily rations and suddenly they were transformed and there was a lot of frolicking taking place within the enclosure, including some quite remarkable acrobatics. We then understood that their attention had been focused in the direction from which they expected their food and were anxiously awaiting its arrival!

A lioness was digging a hole near the fence of their den and my youngest was growling and snarling at her, much to her irritation. She would storm the fence and growl, showing her very large yellow teeth and then retract her steps and return to her digging.

We speculated that she was either trying to dig an escape tunnel, or else she was chasing after a mole, because there were a number or mole hills around, but she was, in fact, just fussy about her toilet habits and we were obviously ignorant regarding animal behaviour.

Love was in the air in the giant tortoises' enclosure.

Then we turned to the farming animals: donkeys, ponies, horses, fowl, ducks, geese, and last but not least the goats. There were quite a large number of them, all sizes and shapes, with motley coloring. Quite a few mama-goats seemed ready to add to the numbers at any minute. They were all bleating at the same time. I suspect it was also their feeding time. We spent quite a while watching them.

Their voices were very distinctive - no two sounded exactly the same. I said to Nadia : "This must be what it sounds like to God when we all start praying, begging and/or praising together." I was amazed to find that after only about five minutes I could turn my back to these animals and still distinguish between their voices!

One little kid, in particular, was very endearing. When she opened her mouth with her little pink tongue protruding she sounded very needy and looked very vulnerable. We fell in love with her and wanted to lift her out of the enclosure and take her home with us!

It filled me with overwhelming joy to understand that God knows my voice even amidst the cries of His many children from all over the world. He hears me when I cry or praise and knows exactly whom it is calling on His name.

        "But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, o Jacob, and He who formed you, o Israel:
        "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are Mine." "  Is. 43:1-2

         "I am the good Shepherd." John 10:1-14

Thank you, Lord, that you know me personally. Thank You that you know my name. You are also my Creator, my Shepherd.

2008

(Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)

NAGMERRIE

Gewigloos...
     tyd-
          beweging-
               en geruisloos...

                                       h
                                       a
                                       n
                                       g

                                       ek

               in  grenslose vakuum  vasgevang

               sonder  gedagte, emosie of drang

                                                     alleen...

Tot opeens uit die duister duisende, staalblink silinders ylings, skelkletterend op
                                                                  my afreën!

                          Bloedstollend galm my vrees verbaal:

                                                      vrees wat my jaag

                                                                                           na my voete                                      
                                                                                                                 gryp -

                                                                                     my meëdoonloos inhaal...

....Struikelend,
     swetend,
          op hande en knieë geknak -
                                       asem gesnak -

                                                                                       vlug ek...

                                                                                                     blindelings,
                                                                                                                   bibberend,
                                     
                                                                                       beangs,
                                                                                                   vir die monster van die nag.
              


                         

Saturday 21 May 2011

Maak toe jou oë...

Maak jou mond toe oor 'n happie yskoue, ryp waatlemoen...
skarlaken rooi...mals en soet soos die passievolste soen.
Voel die gladde, pikswart pitte parmantig
tussen jou tande rondspring.

Sit 'n oomblikke stil, adem die geur in, kou stadig verder;
proe die krummelrige tekstuur sponsig op jou tong.
Steun behaaglik terwyl die suikersap teen jou ken aftap...
mmm... sluk die koel behaaglikheid en voel dit stadig afsak...

Kom ons neem hierdie keer 'n ryp, goudgeel peer.
Voel die saggeel skilletjie weerbarstig skeur terwyl
die pikante smaak en geur jou mond en neusgate vul;
ervaar - en verwonder jou aan die verskil.

Of probeer 'n tot-barstensvol korrel druif  persrooi mooi;
laat dit tussen jou pruilende lippe tot in jou mond gly
hierdie heerlikte vanuit die wonderskone, vrugbare Franschhoek vallei.
Proe die son, die reën, Suid-Ooste wind en groeikrag uit die grond.
Rol dit tussen jou tande rond tot die sap uit die krakende dop pars -
die vonkelvars geur van nuwewyn: somer, sonlig, dans en lag!

Wat van die swaarder, donker persswart geur
van satynglad, saggeronde bessies, pragtig geskakeer
wat skaamteloos jou verhemelte, tong en lippe vlek?
Die stroperige, soet nageur wat jou nog lank jou lippe laat lek?

Kosbare verrykende sintuig van ons bestaan
om te proe - 'n gratis genotvolle gawe uit God se hand -
As ons dalk in die toekoms, deur aardverwarming en tegnologie gedwing
in plek daarvan aan pilletjies kou, sal ons onthou en
verlang om hierdie heerlikhede weer te mag beleef.

Geniet hierdie dag; geniet die nou -
oes kosbare herinneringe wat vir altyd hou!

Friday 20 May 2011

Vriendskap

Ek kry netnou ‘n SMS van ‘n vriendin wat sê: “My man weet dit nie, maar ek is Maandag af en ek kom deur Tygervallei toe … stiek jou vir ‘n etetjie!”

Aa, dis ‘n lekkerte om na uit te sien; ‘n groot lekkerte; sommer ‘n paar lekkertes.

Eerstens omdat  dit  sy  is.  Ons is al van kindsdae van  tjommies.  En dis ‘n hegte vriend-skap wat dekades sonder enige argument deurstaan het.

Tweedens omdat ons mekaar voor Kersfees laas gesien het.

Derdens, omdat ons so min sommer op ‘n weeksdag ‘n bietjie kan  wegbreek van die nor-male  roetine.  Sy werk  en  woon  op Stellenbosch,  daardie pragtige Bolandse ‘tuiste van die Maties’ wat  so  knus  tussen die  persblou berge lê,  en  sy  bevind haar nie gereeld in die besoedeling van die groot stad nie.

Vierdens, ons gaan ‘n slag alleen kuier sonder haar man (ek is permanent manloos) en dit op sigself is ‘n groot lekkerte. Nie  dat dit  nie  lekker  is  om  saam  met hulle  te  kuier as manlief  by is nie – ons is ook baie goeie vriende, maar dis ‘n ander soort lekker!

En laaste, maar nie die minste nie, natuurlik die lekker kos!

Wanneer ons twee bymekaar is, haak ons partykeer net so fyntjies uit… Nou nie sò dat die mense rondom ons wat ons nie ken nie, dit sommer sal agterkom nie, maar darem…

Haar man het drie jaar gelede ‘n beroerte  aanval oorleef en alhoewel hy baie goed herstel het in vergelyking met sy toestand onmiddellik na die beroerte,  is daar tog blywende mo-toriese, spraak-, en psigiologiese skade.

Wie weet dat as ‘n dierbare fisies ly, ly die hele gesin en huishouding noodwendig saam?

Daar is ‘n  verskuiwing van verantwoordelikhede.  Die  daaglikse roetine  in die huishou-ding verander;  die  sosiale verkeer  met  vriende word aangepas; die  emosionele verhou-ding tussen man en vrou,  alhoewel dit  mag  verinnig, verander  van  aard en  in wese, na gelang  van die pasiënt se fisiese behoeftes. Daar is ‘n bykomende afhanklikheid. Sou die pasiënt  nie  kan  terugkeer  werk toe  nie,  verander  ook die  finansiële opset en daarmee saam die planne vir die toekoms.

Vir diesulkes  wat hulle in hierdie omstandighede bevind, is die veranderings na die erva-ring van die aanvanklike intense belewenis van, en bekommernisse rondom, die krisis on-afwendbaar en die keuses daaromheen, beperk.




Wanneer jy, as buitestaander,  egter as’t ware deur die vensters van die buitekant na hulle lewens kyk, is die veranderings dramaties om te aanskou.

“For better or for worse” kry nuwe betekenis.

Dis hoekom ek soms ‘n eetdingetjie regkry, in die motor laai en die muggie se snoet in die rigting van Matieland draai.

Dan oorreed ek my maatjie om  weer al die ou liedjies wat ons twee altyd saam gesing het op die klavier te speel en  alhoewel  ons  stembande  skielik eers moet afgestof word voor ons  die  hoë note daar  bo-op die rak kan raakvat, is ons weer jonk en onbesonne en vlieg die aand soos in ‘n oomblik verby,  terwyl lig en klank weer uit die groot, gerieflike dubbelverdieping huis stroom.

Ons lag vir onsself en vir mekaar en vergeet van die sorge van die hier en nou.

En  ons  ryg  die  vertellings  oor  ons dierbare, beeldskone, volmaakte kinders en geniale, beeldskone, hiper-aktiewe kleinkinders soos snoere kosbare pêrels en dra dit met trots en ‘n selfvoldaanheid en verwonder ons dat ons, wat nog sò jonk is, self nog so beeldskoon, geniaal  en  dinamies  is, se  kinders  al  kinders  het… wat het tog van die jare tussenin geword?

Of ons gaan drink ‘n teetjie in die Botaniese Tuine en, verskuil agter groot struike, sit ons op ‘n randsteen langs ‘n wandelpaadjie en ons  huil saam oor dit wat ons verloor het… en loer darem so met die een oog of ons nie dalk vir Valiant Swart hier iewers gewaar nie...

Wanneer ek dan die muggie se snoetjie terugdraai op die spoor na Tafelberg, is die tafe-reel van ons lewens nouer verweef as ooit.

Inbox: “Ek kannie waggie!”

Reply: “Ek okkie – sien jou Maandag!”





Thursday 19 May 2011

I OWE EVERYTHING TO HIM

I am sitting in the Wednesday evening prayer meeting.

I had opened my Bible when Pastor was reading the Word and it is still open on my lap. Now he is preaching and although it may seem that I am listening intently, my thoughts are far away...

I am, in fact, thinking about a car - a white car - a little white Ford Laser Dash that I went to test drive that afternoon.

I inherited my Nissan pick-up from my Dad. In fact, it is the very same vehicle in which my father died as a result of a heart attack, as he was pulling away from  a stop street. Although the pick-up has sentimental value for me, and is very handy to transport all and sunder, it is no longer a reliable vehicle and needs to be replaced.

Being a single mom with school-going children, major expenditures are matters causing stress, even after careful consideration and being the average female I am not very knowledgeable about motor vehicles.

Thus, on this Wednesday evening, the decision whether to buy that white car is a very important one to make and weighs heavily on my mind, which keeps wandering... Disturbed my my thoughts, I inadvertently close the Bible on my lap...

When I look up I am startled to find the pastor looking at me and I realise he knows that my attention is not focused on the Word being imparted to us... I quickly open the Bible randomly and try very hard to pay attention to my immediate surroundings...

My mind is drifting again...

Is the white Ford a reliable car?  It certainly looks good...it sounds good...it is easier to handle than the pick-up...it will use less fuel that the pick-up...it may even be cheaper to maintain.  Will I be able to afford the instalments every month for three years? It seems an awfully long time...what if unforeseen expenses should suddenly occur? Who will I turn to if I experience financial problems?

Anxiety floods my mind. Is anyone able to read my troubled thoughts? I look down and the following words jump up at me from the pages of my open Bible:

       "...I will repay - not to mention to you that you owe me even your own self besides." Phil. verse
        19.

Words from the Word? Truly? How come I had never noticed them before? What a marvellous God to know the exact answer I needed to hear.

Thank you, Lord, that you know our thoughts...even when they are drifting in the prayer meeting...and that You are always ready to meet us at the point of our need.

1999

(Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)

Wednesday 18 May 2011

THIS IS MY BELOVED...

In our modern world with all its challenges, it is at times difficult to appreciate the simple fact that whatever may  be happening right now, we still have a lot to be thankful for. I have therefore set out to find at least one thing, event, happening, gift, treasure, quality, ability, and/or blessing to be thankful for every day.

Under this heading of  'devotions' I aim to share some of the challenges and the blessings in my life, as well as those in the lives of others with you with the prayer that it will help us all to more readily and fully appreciate the blessings in our own lives; that learning of the challenges experienced by others, we will find reason to be thankful that we do not have to experience at least some of the difficulties and extreme hardships that others are faced with from day to day.

__________________________________________________________________________
THIS IS MY BELOVED...

Recently I read a letter written by a mom to a well-known women's magazine. She had written a very short ode to her 15 year old son.

She told how she is often stopped in the street by friends and acquaintances praising her son for his good manners and his willingness to be of assistance to others. She tells how these people express the wish to have a son like him.

She went on to say how she wished that she could do and give more to her son, and how he is always satisfied with the least.

She ended her letter asking: "How does a mother thank a child such as this?"

I think she has already thanked him by loving him, by appreciating him, acknowledging him and raising him to be who he is.

It truly is a blazing testimony to a wonderful son.

I also have a wonderful son and I know exactly how she feels.

God also has a wonderful Son and knows exactly how she feels.

When His Son came to earth to lay down His life for us, God the Father was heard saying:

     "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."  Matt. 3:17

Is this not exactly what the mother was saying when she wrote that letter?

May we always remember to commend and praise our children and to pray for them on a daily basis.
Thank you, Lord, for godly children, who are a blessing from above granted to us to enrich our lives and mirror Your nature to the world. Help us to be worthy roll models for them to follow.

Monday 16 May 2011

VUURHOUTJIE, VLAM, VRIENDIN...

Dankbaar en tevrede met die lewe
sit ek koel-gemaklik in my vel en klere
agter die stuurwiel van my Ford sedan op pad na
Stellenbosch en na jou, my pêl, om saam jou
verjaarsdag te vier.

Dis 'n vreugdevolle okasie ter ere van die lief
en leed van die lewe; van vriendskap, familie en plesier.

Die teerpad sing op die ritme van die wiele saam met die maat van die vuur
onder die enjinkap 'n opgewekte lied.
Ek kyk na die prag van die wit spiraal meesterlik
uitgevoer deur die bosluisvoëls se presisie-vlug
teen die oopgesperde grootsheid van die wolklose, saffierblou, somerslug.
Luid krassend blaker hul van vreugde oor die vryheid
om hoog bo die aarde te mag sweef en baljaar,
sodat hul alles op die grond as 'n prentjie-mooi legkaart
daar ver, doer onder, op die aardbodem ervaar.

Ek dink aan ons vriendskap oor meer as vier dekades in tyd;
veertig jaar, kan jy glo, sonder woede, haat, seermaak of nyd
en ek verwonder my dat ons mekaar telkens by die weersiens dieselfde vind -
gekleurde hare en bont vere - om Vader Tyd se verweer te verskans - tenspyt
en dieselfde warmte ervaar asof ons pal in verbinding is met mekaar.

Hierdie is 'n waarheid : vriendkap is 'n skat, wat, as jy dit
vind, jy moet troetel en koester soos 'n kosbare kind.

Duisend dankies, my maat - ook vir traannat wintersdae
deur jou getroue vriendskap helder en draaglik gemaak!

Saturday 14 May 2011

Besoek aan 'n ouetehuis

‘N BESOEK AAN ‘N OUETEHUIS
 

Party se koppe lê na een kant gekantel op hulle willose arms, oë oop, starend. Ander sit en slaap met koppe wat op die bors hang, asof hulle pas die tydelike met die ewige verwissel het. ‘n Ouma sit en brabbel en kyk met verwagting om ‘n reaksie, enige reaksie, van enigiemand te kry.

Diè honger na menslike interaksie in haar oë bring my tot stilstand, maak my hartseer, stom, sodat ek net saggies aan haar skouer raak en omdraai na ‘oupa’ wat stomstil op sy rolstoel voor hom sit en uitstaar met sy vingers op sy knieë oopgesply. As ek hom roep, kyk hy vraend op. Hy hoort nie hier tussen die halfdooies nie. Ek hoort nie hier nie…
 
Ek voel ‘n benouing soos ‘n watervloed in my binneste opstoot sodat ek daarin wil stik. Buite is dit lente. Die spreeus rinkink op die grasperk voor die tehuis tenspyte van die tragiese vertoon van verval van die menslike anatomie en noodwendig gepaardgaande verlies aan menswaardigheid hier binne op die rolstoele, rondom plastiektafels vol plastiekbekers in die ‘sonkamer’ waar die son net vir ‘n kort rukkie elke dag ‘n helder streep gooi. In die hoek van die vertrek kerm ‘n ouma. Het sy pyn of teken sy net haar beswaar aan teen die uitloop van haar uurglas? Langs ‘n ander muur bulder ‘n kolos van ‘n man sy aggressiwiteit uit teen die gevangenis van afhanklikheid waarin beroerte hom ongevraag gekerker het. In die bleekgroen gang skuifel ‘n middeljarige man soos ‘n groot krap moeisaam sywaarts met behulp van twee kieries.

Ek moet selfbeheersing toepas om nie verby hom te druk en in die gang af te hardloop nie. Soveel menslike lyding…Die verpleegpersoneel beweeg uiterlik skynbaar onaangeraak tussen die inwoners deur. Gee hier ‘n bietjie water, gesels daar ‘n woordjie…

So gou as beleefd moontlik vlug ek tog die gang, ‘Langstraat’ soos ma dit noem, af na haar kamer onder in die hoek aan die voorkant van die gebou.  Ek groet en kyk vlugtig by haar kamervenster uit na die pragtige rotstuine, roosbome in volle blom, blou lug daarbuite. Haal ‘n paar maal diep asem. Diep asemteue wat my neus vul met die skerp reuk van ontsmettingsmiddels en urine wat vanaf die gang ingewalm kom. Sug. Draai terug na ma in die kamer. Die kamer is ruim, skoon en netjies. Nuwe enkelbed, nuwe matras, bedkassie. Halfmaan embuia-hout tafeltjie teen die muur met ‘n vaas vol plastiese rose daarop. Plastiese rose wat al vir dertig jaar saam met haar trek, selfs van voor sy en ‘oupa’ ge-troud is.

Voor die venster staan ‘n kassie met die televisiestel op. By die voetenent van die bed staan die yskassie met die mikrogolf oond daarop. Aan die oorkant ‘n gemaklike leunstoel en skinkbord-tafeltjie. Ek wonder skielik of ons persepsie van die lewe nie dalk net so rooskleurig as die plastiese rose is nie – en dalk net so kunsmatig?

Ma sit en geniet die vars gebakte vis en aartappelskyfies wat ek gebring het. Daar wag ‘n wiggie suurlemoentert vir nagereg. Op die tafel staan ‘n bak vrugte. Op die mikrogolfoond ‘n flessie met vrugtegeur suiglekkers en ‘n plak sjokolade, ‘n blik Game koeldrankpoeier, haar pille volgens dosisse vir daaglikse gebruik verpak. Haar pantoffels lê langs die bed, ‘n skoon handdoek en waslap hang oor die reëling, ‘n ligte kombers is oor die voetenend van die bed gedrapeer; daar is ‘n paar tydskrifte in die tydskrifrakkie. Teen die een muur is ‘n vergroting van oorlede oupa en ouma met hul twaalf kinders – ma en haar ses broers en vyf susters. Teen die ander muur is die foto’s van al haar kinders, kleinkinders en agterkleinkinders – haar hele wêreld, vyf geslagte, in een vertrek saamgevat.

Eintlik het sy niks meer, of baie min, om haar oor te bekommer; nie veel meer om te doen nie; geen belangrike besluite meer om te neem nie… baie herinneringe om op te roep… 

Sy het baie gewig verloor die afgelope paar jaar, maar lyk goed vir haar sewe-en-tagtig jaar en vertoon steeds statig in haar wit, geplooide romp, plat wit leerskoene, smaraggroen kortmou baadjie, met die silwer en pêrel borsspeld op die lapel vasgespeld, en haar netjies gekapte haarstyl. Sy is bewerig en kla oor haar senuwees wat op hol is. Sy hoor nie meer goed nie; kan nie meer lank lees nie; sien nie meer goed nie; het geen ander belangstellings nie. Haar huis en tuin was altyd haar lewe en haar trots.

Haar aandete word om halfvyf smiddae na haar kamer gebring. As sy klaar geeët het, was sy haarself in die wasbak in die hoek, trek nog self haar klere uit en nagklere aan, hou stiltetyd, bid vir elke kind, kleinkind en agterkleinkind by naam. Dan kyk sy na 7de Laan en luister daarna na Radio Tygerberg tot presies halfnege. Daarna drink sy haar twee Ativans en warm melk en sit om presies 9.15nm die bedliggie af.

Sy kla dat die personeel haar pla wanneer hulle in die nag die toorts in haar kamer skyn. Die lig van buite pla haar, die geraas van die verkeer pla haar, die radio wat aan is in die kamer oorkant hare pla haar. Die kos is sleg, haar klerekas is te klein, haar wasgoed raak weg en die kerkdienste in die groot sitkamer is baie vervelig en oninteressant.
 
 Nadat ma die die suurlemoentert geëet het, neem ek haar haartangetjie, pluk haar wenk-broue. Ek is versigtig om nie haar kapsel deurmekaar te krap nie. Sy weet self nie hoe sy met haar natuurlike styl, grys hare sal lyk nie – sy het dit nog nooit gesien nie. Ek pluk al die lastige hare op haar bolip, haar ken, haar kakebeen uit, smeer gesigroom mildelik oor haar gesig. Sy het nog nooit grimering of naellak gedra nie – dit is te wêrelds.  Haar hande versorg sy self. Nou week ons haar voete in die voetspa wat sy vir haar verjaarsdag gekry het en droog hulle saggies af. Ook tussen die tone. Dan lê sy bo-op die bed met haar kop op haar nekkussinkie waarsonder sy nie aan die slaap kan raak nie, want anders is haar hare môre deurmekaar.  Haar voete rus op een van haar kopkussings. Pienk kussingsloop. Alles in die kamer is beige, sagte pienk, sagte salie groen.  Ek krap saggies die soolvratte onder haar voete af, sny haar toonnaels, kerf die liddorings (sy dra nog steeds haar hoëhak, punt skoene wanneer sy kerk toe of op besoek gaan), rasper die groottoon knobbels en die hakke met die puimsteen. Ek soek ‘n pleistertjie vir die knobbeleelt in die bedkassie se laaitjie en kom af op ‘n dosie sinustablette.

“En diè? Van wanneer af het ma moeite met ma se sinusse?”
“Nee, dis wonderlike tablette daardie. Tannie Nel het my daarvan vertel. Dit maak nie saak waar ek ‘n pyn het, of hoe neerslagtig of gespanne ek voel nie. As ek net ‘n halwe sinustablet drink, selfs net ‘n kwarte, dan voel ek gou-gou weer honderd persent!”
Geloof, o geloof, watter wonderlike ding!

"Kom ons smeer die voete en bene met die lekkerruik lyfroom…  Aa, klaar!"
 
Noudat sy versorg is, raak sy ongeduldig dat ek moet gaan – al probeer sy dit wegsteek… sy is uitgeput van al die aandag en wil terugkom in haar eie roetine en aangaan met haar dag. Ek maak eers gou seker dat die klere wat sy vir more uitgesit het, skoon is.
“Nou-ja, ma, dan gaan ek eers.”
“Ja, dankie vir al jou moeite, my kind, dankie, dis al wat ek kan sê. Daai twee paar skoene wat ons laasweek gekoop het - ek wil dit nie hê nie. Ek het dit weggegee. Ek het gedink as jy Saterdag kom dan gaan soek ons ander skoene en ons gaan drink ‘n koppie tee iewers…”
Ai, en my bloeddruk is alreeds so hoog…
“Ma moet mooi bly. Ek sal oormôre weer kom kuier.”
“Ag, so lank nog!”
Ek stap uit na my nuwerwetse duifblou motortjie. Die enjin vuur met die eerste draai van die sleutel, die musiekie in die laserskyfspeler begin outomaties speel waar dit laas opgehou het; die lugreëling begin saggies suis. Ek sit haar in rat, trap die versneller, gooi ‘n sierlike draai voor ek die pad vat huistoe … dit bly lekker om te lewe!

                                   Alles kom tot niks, sê die Prediker, tot niks….








Monday 2 May 2011

HE ALWAYS KNOWS BEST

I have just reread one of Catherine Marshall's books, "A Time to Live", in which she tells of the death of her husband, the late Peter Marshall, at the age of 46. He died of a heart attack and having married him immediately after graduating from college, she felt totally unprepared to earn a living to support their son, Peter, or "wee Peter" as he was then called by relatives, friends and herself.

The church kindly allowed them to stay on at the manse for quite some time, but ultimately they had to move to a small apartment, or flat. Her financial advisors suggested to her that, as she would only receive about $175 per month from her late husband's pension and insurance monies, she ought to sell their only property, being the Cape Cod cottage, as soon as possible.

Fortunately, she did not heed the advice of her 'Job's friends', but waited on God's will and instructions instead.

Of course, the question uppermost in her mind was why God, in His wisdom, had allowed her husband, who was Chaplain to the USA Senate, and a beloved Minister of the Word in the Presbyterian Church, to die at such a young age.

Soon after Peter's death, she started receiving letters asking for Peter Marshall's sermons to be published and the rest is history. She published some of Peter's sermons under the title, "Mr Jones, meet the Master", and revised and edited his senate prayers that were published under the title "The prayers of Peter Marshall". She then proceeded to write a number of books in her own right, amongst which are "A man called Peter", which became a bestseller, and "The Helper". These books were translated into many languages. Hollywood also produced a film called "A Man called Peer", which was a huge box office success. She was able, in later years, not only to provide for young Peter and herself, but also to purchase a small farm for her parents when it was time for them to retire from ministry. God does not have to rely on the economics of this world or on any inheritance or trust fund to provide for his children.

In hindsight, it is easy to see that Peter Marshall's ministry spread much wider, reached many more people and achieved much more for the Kingdom of God after his death than before! Catherine Marshall acknowledged that this was not of her doing, but engineered by the power of the Spirit of the Living God.

I, and I am sure you too, feel the deep desire and longing to be used of God. We ask: "Lord, what is Your will for my life?" "Lord, show me Your will for my life", but when the Lord does reveal His will, we oft times refuse it as 'too painful an experience', 'not for me', 'that is not my ministry', 'it's just not part of my per-sonality to speak to an audience', 'I do not have that talent', or whatever other excuse we find to offer.

The secret that Peter and Catherine Marshall shared was that they did not ask for God's will, but lived a life yielded to God's will.

I have also just reread two books written about the ministry of the late Catherine Kuhlman and again I found that this was the secret of her life and ministry. Sold out completely to God's will. There can be no denying the wonderful mirac les that the Spirit of God wrought in the lives of people during her ministry. Many, many miracles of supernatural healing of cripples, the blind, the lame, the deaf, and many other diseases took place during her ministry; not even mentioning those lives God had changed body, soul and spirit. It cost a price and that price was being totally submited to God's will and to the Holy Spirit of God.

When we look at the life of Christ, we find that He too was totally submitted to the Father's will and that many healings and other miracles took place, including raising the dead in a number of instances. All because of His being totally yielded to God's Will.

When He was "exceedingly sorowful, even to death" in Gethsemane, we find him praying:

     "Abba Father, all things are possible for You. Take this cup away from Me; nevertheless,
      not what I will, but what You will." Mark 14:36

He paid the price of total commitment to God's Will; He obeyed unto death.

And what do we find after He had been taken up to sit at the right hand of God in heaven? That His work and His ministry carried forth with signs and wonders, miracles taking place throughout the world, sinners still being saved even today all over the world, because He was willing to submit to the Father's will.

His will is always to our benefit, even when we cannot see how that could possibly be true.

      "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." Rom. 8: 28

Thank you, Lord, that although we, in our own specific circumstances, cannot always see the bigger picture, You know the end from the beginning, and ultimately Your will is gain.

(Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.)