Finding God in a plate of pasta

Philip Yancey wrote a book called "Finding God in unexpected places". Last night I did just that.

I had dinner with a friend and a bunch of kids. God was there. I think the penny dropped - no (wo)man can be an island. We were made to live in community.

I can list the benefits of an 'island style' life:

- You are not exposed
- Nobody can be disappointed in you or hurt by you
- You can mind your own business and nobody else interferes in it
- You can do anything you want, where you want and when you want
- Nobody can hurt you, because nobody matters enough to do that

The problems with this lifestyle would be:

- You are exposed - you stand alone
- You miss out on being involved in other lives and sharing Jesus
- You miss out on the opportunity of being part of the body of Christ
- You become selfish
- You hurt, because there is nobody to share your pain.

On Sunday, I am going back to my community. I am scared. Truthfully, I am going because I promised somebody a long time ago that I will be there this week. I hope it breaks the ice. No (wo)man is an island.

I need to belong. I did not find God on my own, looking in all kinds of places, but last night He was there. He was in the friendly conversation and a plate of pasta. I have no illusions about living in a community and do not expect a honeymoon, but I have weighed the options and calculated the cost.

Screwtape and life as I know it

This morning my accountability partner sent me this message. It is an extract from CS Lewis' Screwtape letters: 'Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks around upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.'

I feel so guilty because I cannot snap out of this depression. I feel like I am always complaining and I don't like being around people like that. Then you get a message from a friend and you know you are still loved. Yesterday I got an email from a friend with bits of news - they are expecting a boy in the next 6 weeks and between the lines I read that I was loved despite everything that happened and that I have done. I also had a chat on Gmail with another friend, asking if I am coping financially and I knew I was loved.

My world shrunk on this bumpy ride, it turned upside down a few times, but it is OK because I am still loved.

You are nothing but a broken clay jar (I am nothing but a broken clay jar), yet you are (I am) still loved. Still chosen to carry the Good News of Jesus in this broken body.

Heritage day

Yesterday we celebrated Heritage day in South Africa. It was a public holiday and I took my brother (visiting from London) to Soweto. It was thought provoking.

We saw Nelson Mandela's house and Desmond Tutu's house (both on Vilakazi street), the Hector Pietersen memorial as well as the Gloria Mundi church where 600 children died in a stampede when police started shooting at them and pumping tear gas into the church. We saw the rich areas as well as the squatter camps.

The stories somehow sound very different to what they did when I studied the apartheid laws and uprisings in History. Yesterday I looked a man in the eyes whose brother died because he insisted the brother take him to the (political) gathering at Gloria Mundi.

Living in South Africa, I have been tempted to say that I never voted before 1994 (our first democratic election). I have been tempted to condemn people for repeating stories about the sins of our past. On the other hand, if I am honest, I have to admit that I am still benefiting from apartheid. If I wasn't white, I wouldn't have studied where I did. I wouldn't have met the people who influenced my later career. If I did not meet them, I would not have had my nice car or comfortable home.

Yesterday, when I looked Emmanuel (whose brother died) in the eyes, I realised that all these luxuries came at a very expensive price. One I did not pay.

I pray that God will heal our country's scars. I pray that we will learn from each other. I pray that God will help the people who paid the price to forgive and that He will comfort them.

This morning I am still at a loss for words. Nothing I say or do today can fix anything. However, I will always try to remember this different perspective on our heritage.

Yom Kippur

Yesterday was Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. It is the holiest day on the Jewish calender. It was the one day every year where the people would either get God's nod or the high priest would die.

Once a year the high priest would go into the holy of holies with a bowl of blood to intercede for the people of Israel. There were lots of preparations to be done. The people had to pray and repent (since Rosh Hashanah, ten days before). Two goats would be taken - one killed and the other sent away, symbolically carrying the sins of the people from the camp.

The high priest could not sleep the night before in case he had less than pure dreams. On the big day he wore his high priestly robe with bells around the bottom. A rope was tied around his ankle and then the scene was set. He entered into the holy of holies to confess the sins of Israel.

Sometimes God said no. To me, this is hard to understand. When God said 'no', the high priest died. When the priests in the holy part of the tabernacle and later temple, did not hear the bells anymore, they pulled him out by the rope around his ankle. I think that must have been the worst kind of rejection. The people had to wait another year before they could approach God again in this manner.

Sometimes, God said yes! Rabbi Akiba wrote that when the high priest walked out of the holy of holies, it was like the wind blowing through the trees, it was like a beautiful moonlit night. They were forgiven.

When Jesus died, the curtain to the holy of holies tore from top to bottom. God made an end to this practice. We can approach God through Jesus at any given time. We do not have to wait another year for another chance at making things right with God.

I think we have lost the reverence people once had for GOd and I certainly take a lot of things for granted. May God be with us and reveal Himself to us. May we have open hearts and open ears. May we always remember where we came from and what Jesus did for us.

Today, may we also experience the mystery of the wind blowing through the trees and a beautiful moonlit night. May we experience God's 'yes' in our lives.

I want to go home now

One of the current hit songs in Johannesburg is a ong called 'Home' by Daughtry. These are the lyrics:

I'm staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

Well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
Well I'm going home.

The miles are getting longer, it seems,
The closer I get to you.
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.
But your love, it makes true.
And I don't know why.
You always seem to give me another try.

So I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
I'm going home.

Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all,
And then some you don't want.
Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all, yeah.

Oh, well I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from.
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old.
I said these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.

I think this is the song of the prodigal son. Every time I hear it, I long to go home. Every time I hear it, I wish this darkness will go away. I am sure the rest of the world must think I went off my rocker and nothing can be this bad.

Maybe, when you pray, you can mention my name? I want to go home, but I can't find my way there.

Psalm 88 (NIV)

A song. A psalm of the Sons of Korah. For the director of music. According to mahalath leannoth. A maskil of Heman the Ezrahite.
1 O LORD, the God who saves me,
day and night I cry out before you.

2 May my prayer come before you;
turn your ear to my cry.

3 For my soul is full of trouble
and my life draws near the grave.

4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am like a man without strength.

5 I am set apart with the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more,
who are cut off from your care.

6 You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.

7 Your wrath lies heavily upon me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.
Selah

8 You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;

9 my eyes are dim with grief.
I call to you, O LORD, every day;
I spread out my hands to you.

10 Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do those who are dead rise up and praise you?
Selah

11 Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction?

12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?

13 But I cry to you for help, O LORD;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.

14 Why, O LORD, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?

15 From my youth I have been afflicted and close to death;
I have suffered your terrors and am in despair.

16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.

17 All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.

18 You have taken my companions and loved ones from me;
the darkness is my closest friend.

Rosh Hashanah

Rosh Hashanah is observed the first and second day of the seventh month of the Jewish calender, Tishri. Coming in the Fall season of the western calendar, usually in September. In Israel Rosh Hashanah is the only holiday kept for 2 days as it is considered too important to be observed for only 24 hours. Both days are considered one long day of 48 hours.

The Jewish Holiday of Rosh Hashanah is widely known and celebrated as the New Years Day of the Jewish calendar, but actually Rosh Hashanah has a fourfold meaning - It is the Jewish indeed the new year, but also the Day of Judgement, the Day of Remembrance, and the Day of Shofar Blowing.

Day of Judgement

Jews worldwide examine their past deeds and asks for forgiveness for their sins. This is done in preparation for Yom Kippur. It is believed that on Rosh Hashanah the destiny of all mankind is recorded byGod in the Book of Life. After Rosh Hashanah services, as the congregants leave the synagogue they say to each other... "May you be inscribed in the Book of Life"

Day of Shofar Blowing

The Shofar (the rams horn) is blown in temple to herald the beginning of the 10 day period known as the High Holy Days.

Day of Remembrance

As Jews review the history of their people and pray for Israel.

And of course it is the new year.

The traditions of Rosh Hashanah are simple as the only commandment specified for this day is the blowing of the shofar. In temple the shofar is blown on Rosh Hashanah to herald the beginning of the period known as the High Holy Days. Traditional foods are sweetened with honey, apples and carrots are served, symbolizing sweetness, blessings, abundance and the hope for a sweet year ahead.

The first night's meal begins with apple dipped in honey. Challah, the bread usually eaten on the Sabbath (not braided as at regular meals but instead baked in a circle - a wish that the coming year will roll around smoothly without unhappiness or sorrow) is also dipped in honey before eating.

On the first day of Rosh Hashanah, after the afternoon services, Jews visit a body of water or pond, containing live fish, to symbolically "cast away" their sins into the river.
The fish's dependence on water symbolizes the Jews dependence on God, as a fish's eyes never close, God's watchful eyes never cease.

I think these are amazing traditions.

Nothing for nothing?

In April a close friend of mine had a birthday party sponsored for their two year old. She just had to pay for the paper plates and a few other things. However, when the invoice arrived, the few things she had to pay amounted to much more than the average birthday party's cost.

At the time we had a long chat about freebies and how nothing is really free. If people do not expect money back, they will ask something else. When I wrote the 'Ex gratia' post, this was in the back of my mind and I thought I proved our theory wrong.

Our theory stood the test. Nothing is free after all. The medical aid will still not cover my expenses and I feel cheated. Jonah comes to mind. God gave him a tree and when the tree died, he got upset.

I guess I should take a page from Jonah's book today - if it wasn't yours to start with, why be upset when you loose it? Chin up, wipe your cheeks. I still have a job and I am healthy. The sun is shining and the birds chirping (really).

Today is also Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New year) and maybe, just maybe, today is the start of a new chapter in my life and walk with God.

I am

I am not what I ought to be. I am not what I want to be. I am not what I hope to be. But still, I am not what I used to be. And by the grace of God, I am what I am. -- John Newton

Ex gratia

Ex gratia literally means out of grace.

The strangest thing happened last week. My medical aid was depleted for the first time in my life. I hardly ever claimed before, but this year I had a lot of medical expenses. I accepted the fact and just wondered how I was going to make ends meet.

In passing mentioned the depletion of the fund to the medical sister on site. She gave me a form to complete with the details of the medication I am using as well as the treatment plan. After I completed the forms, I forgot about it.

This morning I had an email from the medical aid saying they will continue to pay for my treatment - ex gratia. Not because of anything I have done or said or could do in return. Just because.

I would like to think out Jesus in that way. He gives - ex gratia. I cannot deserve His love. I cannot work to become acceptable to Him. Grace alone.

Night and nightmares

Every time I think I am getting up, I fall harder. Every time I think I can see light, this (eternal?) darkness comes as a bigger shock.

Life must go on. My parents’ divorce was finalised on Friday. I think I was brave. I thought I am ready to pick all the pieces up and go on with my life. At some stage, I need to return to Sunday services (and honestly, I dread it). I cannot live in isolation, yet contact with other Christians upset me. I am bawling my eyes out about a stupid email whilst writing this post. I am just so tired of being misunderstood. I don’t want to defend myself anymore.

There are four people in my community who maintained contact with me, even when I claimed that I was not a Christian. These people became the hands and feet of Jesus in my life. They loved me and cared for me, when I did not want to live. When I make statements like in the previous paragraph, I hope they don’t read it, because they have the opposite effect on me.

So maybe there are different kinds of Christians or maybe I am just confused. Maybe I am just not as well as I thought I was. I am still desperate to hear God’s voice. I am desperate to experience His love for me. I want to serve God. May He shine His light into this darkness and bring an end to the nightmare.

Monday

It is a gorgeous day in Johannesburg. I think we somehow skipped spring and fast forwarded to summer.

I have no profound ideas or serious questions today. I am not in the middle of an existential crisis and will not attempt to save the world in the next few hours. It is simply Monday, the second day of the week. It is also a few of my friends' birthday today.

Marie works in my building, she is 60 today. Her son was born with one arm. He recently got divorced and tried to commit suicide. She knits scarves for an additional income (I am sure she is not as ecstatic about summer as the rest of us). She is one of the bravest people I know. She got a raw deal, but always manages a smile or a joke and an interesting story.

Wilna crossed my path 3 years ago. She is a teacher, is married to Pieter (an engineer) and they have 2 beautiful children. Dawid is 5 and Talita 3. She always manages to see the silver lining.

Yvonne is a dear friend. Her husband has bipolar disorder. She referred me to the psychiatrist I am using. She reads my scripts and tells me when I need to see the doctor soon (i.e. I am not coping and need to make a plan). She is my 'reality check friend' who can tell me anything and I will not get angry. I trust her. She never tries to tell me that I am 'going through a phase' or 'the Lord is still on the throne'. We have a long shared history, they were also in the ministry before.

Tayla is 2 today. She is Tom & Lollie's little princess. She is always friendly and I think everybody can learn something from her. From time to time Tom shares about the things she does and says on Soulgardeners. I would like to consider her my friend, will just check with her if it is OK the next time I see her.

Today I am grateful for these precious people. I am grateful that the Lord saved them for another year and that He is involved in each of their lives in a special way.

Pieces

Tomorrow I will accompany my mom to the divorce court. My parents' marriage of almost 34 years will become null and void. I am not sure what to think or feel. I think I am just going through the motions and trying to be tough so my family can mourn.

A lot of things seem to have shattered over the last months. There seem to be pieces of my life all over.

I think all there is left to do after tomorrow is to pick all the pieces up with Jesus and to allow Him to mend this broken pot. One day at a time.

Honesty

Yesterday my friend Tom asked me to read Psalm 55 every day of this week, but only if I wanted to. I read it today. I also read his latest post (under my shared items).

It brought back a lot of memories from my honours year. We read The Message of the Psalms: A Theological Commentary (Walter Brueggemann) and our Old Testament lecturer spoke a lot about honest communication with God (I think he even did a doctorate on it).

I also remembered a song that I was always too scared to sing. I think the song was called Sacrifice, and a part of the lyrics said Honestly Jesus, you can strip me to the core, I will love you more and more, living a sacrificed life. It scared me, because it implies exposure, possible pain and sacrifice.

I think that somehow I have been stripped of a lot of things and it is not necessarily a bad place to be. When the pretense falls away and you know that you will die if God does not intervene and you simply cannot help yourself might be a good place to start. As children we used to say 'Let's start again' when a game did not go the way you anticipated. Maybe Jesus and I can start over. Maybe this is the place where I can get to know Jesus again for the first time.

When God is hidden

I don't know where God is. I am not sure He listens when I pray. I don't see Him, I don't hear Him, but I am looking for Him.

Over the past 12 months I have lost almost everything and everyone that was dear to me. I changed jobs and worked super-long days, I had a cancer scare and had an accident with my new car. My parents are getting divorced on Friday and had a long and tedious fight up to this point. I am just so tired of fighting and yet I can't stay down. I have a responsible job. My parents depend on me. My siblings seem to think I can fix things.

If I could email God (and there are websites you can do this) and be sure He reads my mail, if I could somehow get a 'read receipt' I would ask a few questions.

It is very presumptuous to imagine that God would read my blog, but He did read Hiskia's note, didn't He? He did see his tears and granted him extra time.

I guess what I really want to say to Him is this:

Lord, I need you more than ever, but today, I feel betrayed. I feel betrayed by you and your body. If this is punishment (like some Christians are telling me), I don't understand what it is for. I am supposed to be your child. Forgiven? I am supposed to be part of your body, but I hurt. I am supposed to be part of your bride, but I don't see you. Everytime I get up, I get pushed down again. Why are you hiding or am I just looking in the wrong places? Where are you? Why don't you speak to me? Don't you care that my life seems to be falling apart? Don't you care about this black hole I am in? Where is your care and your provision when I need you most? Since you are God, the fault is probably on my end of this relationship, but I need your help to find you? Please don't leave me where I am this morning. Amen

Small mercies

On Friday I got a (close to) hysterical phonecall from my mom. She wanted me to have the cats put down. The cats have been around for 10 years and neither my mom nor my dad could take them with to their flats.

Help came from a totally unexpected source - a Muslim friend took Anastasia and an atheist friend took Rusti (my sister insisted on this spelling).

I saw the hand of God in this. Small mercies. The Bible says His mercies are new every morning - I think this is somehow easier to believe before the day's rush starts, when everything is cool and crisp... and then on a dusty Friday afternoon God shows up and save two family cats.