pottingalong

Questions and Answers

2010-12-13T14:19:00.003+02:00

In the last week I have been called to make a few very significant decisions about my life, which in itself lead me to ask a few very significant answers of God, which led me down a really dark path , as the questions were overwhelming, and the answers scarce. I have however found a few clever men, who captured in words what has been mauling in my heart for the last week:

With this prayer in my heart I ventured on:
"My God, in you only do I find the answers to the questions that perplex and confuse me. Yet I know that in your good time, the answer will be made to me. Give me grace, dear God, to live with my questions until you are pleased to make my way clear"

Rueben P. Job writes on this:
""Zechariah was a deeply religious man, a man full of years and full of experience. He was a leader in the religious life of his community and he was filled with a question that would not go away. Even an angelic visit did not calm his fears or answer his questions. "how can I know that God's promise is true for me?"
It is easy for us to make light of Zachariah's struggle, thinking it would be different for us. If an angel visited us, we could believe. If we had received such a direct promise from God, we could trust and rejoice. But the truth is, we have received a much greater and more direct promise. We have the life, crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus to confirm the promise of God's love and provision. We have the presence and power of the Holy Spirit to assure us the companionship of God and the power of God in everyday life. We have two thousand years of experience to remind us and to assure us that God can be trusted, and that God will provide. But the questions are not easily put to rest. What if I am wrong and give my life to the focus of my wishful thinking and not to the living God? What if I am listening to my own desire and not the voice of God, as I seek direction for my life? What if God leads me astray and into a life that is too much for me?
Zechariah is not the only one who hears the nagging questions. We hear them too. How will I know Go d is guiding me? How will I know God will provide for me? How will I know God will forgive me? How will I know God loves me as an individual?
How will I know? How will I know. God?
These are the nagging questions that lurk close in many of our lives, and to deny them is to give them power they do not have. To face the question honestly and directly is to see them for what they are - a response to fear to our lack of faith.
So what shall we do? Continue our life as Zechariah did - praying, serving, listening. And as we continue our disciplined listening for the voice of God, we will be called to remember that God does care for us, and provide for us, in wonderful ways, even when we are unaware of that provision.
After living with the question, the apostle Paul said: " I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, ..., nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, our Lord (Rom8:38-39)
The assurance that we are enfolded in the loving arms of God can still the nagging questions, and grant us the grace, peace, and serenity to live all of life fully and faithfully every day. Grant us this blessed assurance today and always. ""

Brennan Manning - Reflections for Ragamuffins writes:
Because the question no longer is: Can I do it? Am I able? Can I overcome my moodiness, my laziness, my sensuality, my grudges and resentments?
The only question is: IS JESUS CHRIST ABLE? Can my Savior the Lord of my life, revive my drooping spirit and transform me at Christmas, as He transformed the world through His birth in Bethlehem?"

and lastly:
Richard Rohr writes in Everything Belongs:
"" Religious energy is in the dark questions, seldom in the answers. Answers are the way out. Answers are not what we are here for. When we look for answers, we're looking to change the pattern. When we look at the questions, we look for the opening to transformation""

So I am left without answers - to make life easy. I am however challenged to embrace the questions, to live through them, and trust that I will find - more than the answers, but the :iving God within them.

Meeting of Cultures

2007-09-08T10:42:00.001+02:00

It's summer in Johannesburg, typically Spring was plus minus 4 hours long, and then we were catapulted into summer. On Wednesday afternoon I attended a meeting with a gentleman who lived in Japan for 3 years. And I literary hang onto his every word, and story. How relationships are formed, how business is conducted, how amazing this society functions. He himself a Zulu, loved it, but had a lot of adjustments to do when he returned home to South Africa. Later another gent joined us. He is the son of a Zulu father and a Nigerian Mother, was raised in Dar e Salaam. I was with a colleague who grew up with his German roots, firmly embedded in African Soil. Me - well I AM AN AFRICAN - white, Afrikaans, and although I live in Johannesburg, my "Boere" roots anchors me deep in the Free State.
Soon we started discussing the exodus of people to and from South Africa, politics and this wonderful, amazing, multicultural, diverse county - that is filled with opportunities. Soon stories of the struggle were told, stories I have never heard of, stories of the hero's of our Nation, stories of the 1995 World Cup, stories of Madiba, of Oliver Tambo, of Beyer Naude. AND then, for the first time in my life I heard a concept - being a Son and Daughter of South Africa, vs just being a citizen.

Citizens, I was told, have a ID book, a local address, a passport - but they only live here, almost as if they are just waiting for something better, just passing through. BUT a Son and a Daughter are passionate about their "family" - the land, the people, the culture, the growth, the pains of transition, the joy of seeing how people are transformed, how the country grows up from being a newborn in 1994 to the teenager it is now.

And my heart swelled, and my emotions rose, and I realised that this is the reason why I am not interested the least in leaving my homeland, my African Sky, my heimat, its because I am a daughter of this land, with my heart sold out to the journey we are on.

Late at night, lying in bed, I reveled in the feeling of enrichment that still glowed in my heart. How color, culture, belief, age, gender made no difference. How today we became neighbors just by being able to tell our own stories - with no fear of judgment - and listen to wonderful rich stories - with no preconceived ideas, and how this bound our hearts together.

The freshness of holiday

2007-08-09T13:14:00.000+02:00

What a glorious day this is. The sky reflects the brilliant color of the blue blue ocean. The only breeze we can feel today is the warm bergwind, that brought with it nice warm weather - in the middle of winter, tomorrow it will rain, the locals say.
I am parked in a family restaurant - they have nice large table on which I can pack out all my books, the laptop and other paraphernalia. Mom, Karen and the kids are roaming the mall, and I am studying. Every now and again, Mom appears, sips from my water, stashes a parcel under the table, - then leaves again - a true hunter-gatherer.
I have a beautiful view of the bay, every now and again, I lift my head just to remember that I am at the coast - and not in my study.
Years ago on my first round at varsity, I once took my books to the coast - less diligent than today, the books never got a whiff of fresh sea breeze, never came out of my bag. This round is different. I have been up early in the morning, late at night, I have not been into the nice quaint beach shops, or bought anything to remind me of a few days at the coast, I have been studying. Well I suppose if you mount a wild horse best you hold on for dear life, and ride it till it tires - or be deposited by the wayside.
I am so excited about this breath of fresh air that has been blown into my life. I had coffee with my dear friend Cobie last week, we were together in high school, and are very good friends these days. I could not wait to tell her that I had enrolled to study law - she just quietly smiled and said she new I would one day fulfill my destiny and come to my senses.
I found the prospect of registering daunting, but have to raise my hat to Kovsies, they are as superb as they were when I studied the first time. Very efficient, and supportive, and helpful.
Today reminds me that God must have had so much fun when He made colors yellow,blue, red, green,orange, bright with life and love and energy, looking out at the beach I am filled with owe at how beautiful He created earth, how beautiful our country is, how blessed I am to be able to be on holiday, to be at the beach, to spend time with my family, to just chill.

There is a hole in my heart

2007-07-24T14:23:00.000+02:00

What would I do to be in Manica today, to sit on the camping chair (the one Short keeps in his store room for me - the one he brings when he sees me down in the machessa) with my backpack filled with 'n flask of coffee, milk, sugar, maybe a rusk that my dear friend Colette baked, with a stack of books - that I seldom touch, with my camera that I use only on the odd occasion, what would I do to be there NOW. Today it feels like I am prepared for the 12 hour plus trip to Manica, for the long rows at the borders, for the silly things the police do when they pull you over to complain about your dirty car, or the AF-RO-DAWID ( in South Africa we call this a affidavit) we need to give the driver permission to drive in Zimbabwe (this is different to the expected driver license). Today I am willing to wash the Gallo's soccer clothers after soccer practice - with my hands, if I could only have one peaceful morning in the machessa. I miss my friend Zambito, I miss Violet, I miss Mr Man, I miss - so many faces, the smells of the market, a pao with butro and freshly bought tomatoes, en lettuce, and abagat. Yes I even miss the noice - that never seized.
I think a piece of my heart has been ripped out, the edges scored - impossible to heal. This feeling reminds me to keep my heart open to love, to keep giving. Without these memories and experiences, I would be so much poorer.

White Snow

2007-06-27T15:21:00.000+02:00

What a special day today is, IT'S SNOWING !!! I was awakened this morning by my dear friend Ann and her kids, shouting that their lawn was covered in snow. My house unfortunately lies to low, I thus had no snow. BUT today 43 years ago, it snowed - 6inches, Mom was in labor with me, Dad was stuck in Excelsior and due to the heavy snow, could not reach the hospital to find out if I had arrived or not. My parents still have movie footage of this special day - Dad climed into the church bell tower, and with his camera scanned the town, covered in this blanket of snow. I told my father that when I come home again, I want us to go through all the old movies.

Tom tagged me, so here goes,
I LOVE Jesus, because
1. God - choose me - to love me, to save me, to challenge me to bear fruit, to LIVE
2. Jesus really really loved small children
3. Jesus knew God's heart
4. Jesus really loved His Father
5. He made winter and snow and cold weather, and summer and sun, and autumn and the most beautiful colors, and spring and flowers and laughter, and joy, and He fills ME - little me - with His JOY.

And today, this special day HE gave me, I KNOW that He is with me, loves me, never leaves me alone, blesses me, have grace with me, AND HE CALLS ME HIS BELOVED.

Girlfriends

2007-04-23T08:19:00.000+02:00

Sunday, the first day of the week, was the last day of a few disastrous days for me. I completely lost my temper with 2 service providers due to really bad customer service, but in such a non-me-way that I thought I was going to have a heart attack, got stuck in a security village as the gate code given to me was incorrect – this left me in tears for a good few minutes, had a disagreement (not argument) with a dear friend, and and and, the list is really long.

Yesterday, after our Sunday morning service – the celebration of a new baby dedicated to God, I retreated to my cave. With the firm decision to stay here until I felt better, I retreated, and closed the door to the world.

BUT I lost reckoning with 2 dear dear friends. They quietly found their way into my cave, scarified their peaceful Sunday, and loaded with a good chick-flick, schwarmas, a foot spa, bright pink nail gel, and hearts filled with love, they sat with me – with no intentional speech to make me feel better, without cheap advice, no secondhand stories of how their day was worse than mine. They were just with me. We laughed, we cried (I cried), we shared fantasy stories. They calmed the storm in my soul, reminded me of God’s love for me, reminded me of my puzzle piece – the role that I play in our community, they prayed for me, and then left me feeling less angry, less sad, and cared for.

They reminded me of how our lives are enhanced, how our colors are brighter in relationships, and how much I love them. They reminded me that we are community for one another, and that we have the chance to show Jesus to one another.

Picking up the pieces

2007-04-18T07:21:00.000+02:00

Its just been too long. And I’m not quite sure how to pick up the pieces. I could tell you that I got busy living life, too busy to think out loud or blogg or write or share my thoughts. I could tell you that I got tied up in myself – and made a really small parcel. More interestingly –maybe- I could tell you of all the places I visited London, Paris, St Gallen, San Antonio, Nice, Rome, Vienna, Frankfurt, Johannesburg, Manica Mozambique and Zimbabwe, but that I scarcely had time to visit me, or of all the grand hotels where I stayed, and how lonely I was there, my only thought to get home.

But what I want to tell you is that I stopped the bus and got off. I got out the boat. REALLY - I took time out. I gave up the security of a steady and very well paying job, in which I suppose I was really good, and loved by all, where my main purpose was to MAKE MONEY, quick and fast and lots of it. To gain market share, and grow the business, and find new ways of making more money even quicker. I packed up my house and put my life into a suitcase or two, a few books my iPod and laptop, and went north.

I took a year Sabbatical. Setting time aside to focus on God. Time to detox, time to recharge, rediscover, reconnect to God, myself and my dreams. I learned about people, and relationships, different cultures, and languages, I ate different food. I read. I daydreamed. Sometimes I just sat, and stared at the mountain. Sometimes I slept, and forgot about the future. But most of the time I was confronted with God, and He confronted me with myself and how I chose to live life up to now.

Coming back home was really tough. I felt out of joint. It felt as if I had been walking barefoot for a very long time, developed calluses on my feet, and now my old shoes just did not sit as comfortable as before. And I liked it to be reminded that I have changed. I want to take all the new ideas and the old one’s that has been engraved in to my heart and LIVE THEM. Make them part of my every waking breathing moment. I did not go into the wilderness to just come back and slip back into the comfort of my previous life. I got given a second chance and how I badly wanted to live the second round different.

I heard God say that I am His beloved, and this gives me courage. This gives me the platform to live on. God blessed me with companions and a community to journey with and within.

Picking up the pieces proved difficult. I cannot share my every thought much as I would want to. I lost a few pieces – since I was too lazy to write of it down. So now the pot resembles the Clay pots we stick together at Kleipot Community Church, full of holes – to let the Light shine through. I realize that I am a really really broken vessel, without many of my previous pieces, but I have discovered that I do carry a precious message. And I want to live life, with my holes, and vulnerabilities, and inadequacies, and missing pieces.

Effe skrikkerig, ‘n bietjie huiwerig, maar nooit bang nie.

The chicken or the egg:

2004-09-24T17:45:00.000+02:00

After so many years of debating this contentions topic, have we come any closer to discovering the answer to this question? I am probably as far from the answer to this question as I am to the question that was posed to me today: do you have a specific set of moral and ethical standards due to your religion or would you have had this guide in your life without religion?? Per implication my guest was asking me if I thought that he was an immoral person because he was a-religious.

We had an interesting morning, and I am not quite sure how religion became part of the conversation, no infact, we were driving up, across form Houtbay to Llandudno, after a splendid lunch, he’s Jewish, so I asked if he kept Kosher, in order for me to arrnage for appropreate food at all our function venues, and he said – don’t worry I do not see myself as Jewish, and I love all pork products.

My knee jerk answer to his question was YES, YES and YES. Its what I believe that makes me who I am. Its Gods love, His Spirit, and His grace that makes my attempts at LIFE the way it is, that gives me the foundation, the moral and ethical platform for the way I live, that makes me reach out to people the way I do. But the next question, do I then belief that people like himself who lives without religion have less of a change to have this moral and ethical foundation, as although they live as humanitarians their motivation is not necessarily humanity, but simply because it’s the right way to live, to do good, to influence your environment, and to do good to all people, that stumped me. How did Nelson Mandela (and at the moment my guest is visiting Robbin Island, so this question was quite relevant) who comes across, and have never in public refer to believing in God(at least I have not heard it), did what he did. How did his moral and ethical foundation develop, if religion played no role. Or should we discredit what he has done due to his non-religious believes? I think if he had chosen any other example I would have been quick to give him the “religious-correct” answer. But using Madiba as the comparator, stumped me a bit.

I want to belief that this graceful man, is surely knowing or unknowing, God inspired. That he just like Beyers Naude were raised up, from our nation, to be His voice, in directing His people into a different direction. Like when He told Moses to part the Red Sea so that the Israelites can escape death on the banks of the Sea, so He re-directed us out of the way of death on the banks of Apartheid, to the promised land, using these 2 incredible people.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu, said that God must have a good sense of humour, to choose somebody like Beyers Naude, a clergy in the NGK, an Afrikaner, the son of the founder of the Broederbond, to speak out against Apartheid, the most unlikely candidate, almost like Saul. So that takes care of Oom Bey. He knew God therefore, we can assume that his foundations dictated or predicted his believes and thus his actions.

But what about Madiba??? And others like him, who changes the directions of peoples lives dramatically, who influence, at the very core of peoples lives, by sitting with children, by crying with grown men, by reaching out to their oppressors, by laughing at themselves through telling Old South Africa jokes, so that people from both sides can laugh together, but who have been so disappointed in the way that Christians think and live, so disappointed by the verdicts of the past (I heard a recording of Dr Verwoerd, saying that Apartheid was a gift of God to the Church) of people who claims to be following GOD.
…….and this makes me pull back my knee, makes me think a bit longer before giving the religiously correct answer, makes me filled with emotion, knowing that what I need to do, is build this relation, with this international customer of my organisation, with whom I have the privilege to travel for a week, so that I can learn form this wise man, and so that I can serve him, maybe he grows fond of me, and see in me the reason why I am who I am, maybe just maybe he sees a slither of my motivation, maybe I can talk to him without using my voice, by living what I believe, maybe just maybe he can make up his own mind about my chicken and egg predicament.

Energy Savings

2004-09-17T17:54:00.000+02:00

During our recent winter, a few close friends of mine, where left very frustrated due to continuous – and life disrupting- power failures. Most often on the very cold nights, they had to eat cold food (as even the take away restaurants in their area were effected. The reason being that we are living in a culture where we have not learned the value of saving this very scarce natural commodity – ENERGY.

Often in my life I do exactly the same. I use my physical and emotional energy at times that I can least afford it. I waste my most precious resource. I spend my time and energy fighting and debating issues that at that moment seems life-important to me, yet often, and in hindsight are insignificant issues.

So how do I flip the energy saving switch? How do I replace the 60watt light bulb with a energy-saving devise? How do I get into the habit of rather snuggling into a blanket vs. pulling the heater closer?

This is by no means a solution, but somewhere in my design I found a pause button, to create a stop-and-think moment. A moment to consult, to analyse to strategically plan, and then only to decide on an action. Yip I heard you, the fixer, taking time before jumping in, the boots and all, fools rush in where angels fear to tread, - person??? A couple of emotional-energy overload evenings, leaving me with cold food in front of a dead TV in a dark room, forced me to re-evaluate my own self-righteous wisdom, and do what I am taught every year in our long term planning at work. REDIRECT, DO IT DIFFERENTLY, CHALLENGE YOURSELF, TAKE THE RISK.

And then I thought – if I don’t do it differently, I might just end up with the same results as before, with cold food, in front of a dead TV, in a cold room, without any energy to spare for the really important stuff – like living life.

Stories

2004-09-17T17:46:00.000+02:00

When someone tells you their story you always have the choice to start thinking about your own story, or you can submerge yourself and just drown in the details of their story.

Very often (actually most of the time) I’m so busy figuring out my own story that I am clueless about the Story of God. In the last week I have been taking a journey with 4 people, and a TV character who, by living their lives, become part of the Story of God.

Hannah, this gracious lady, overcome with the desire to have a child, pleaded with God, and when He answered her prayers, she gave Samuel back to God, “sacrificed” her dream. And God blessed her with more children, and created a voice to His people through Samuel.

Samuel, sold out, committed and submerged in God, follows God script for His story to the letter, influences not only Israel, but the lineage that leads us to the stable in Bethlehem.

Saul, nation-demanded and God appointed King over Israel, who throughout his career finds it very hard to consistently, hear God’s voice. Who destroys himself by NOT listening to God, but following his own heart. He however plays a major role in developing David, who for most of his young life is seen by Saul as his direct opponent and enemy. His pursuit of David makes him a skilled worrier who seeks the face of God, who in his adversity seldom moves without being VERY sure that God is leading him. Saul, as egocentric King, plays his role in God’s story to be His instrument in developing the character of David.

David, from a young, very young age, seeks the face of God. He listens to Gods voice through Samuel, but seeks an audience with the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Overcome by his own desires, he steps out of Gods guidance, sins, repents, God - in His grace, uses David as one of the main characters in the lineage of Jesus, He blesses David and Bathsheba with Solomon.

Joan of Arcadia is currently on our local TV network. This program is about a teenaged girl(Joan)who finds her role in Gods story. To make it easier for us desensitized-to- Gods- voice people, God communicates with Joan, clearly through various, and sometimes insignificant people. He teaches her, and tells her, about the interconnectedness of peoples lives. He shows her, her role, always giving her the choice to choose her own script. On Sunday nights, I’m glued to the TV, I relive my teenage years, and am amazed at how clearly God’s story lies in front of us/me, providing that I am aware of God, the Director of life, aware of how I can live myself into the Story of God.

Bubbles in a bottle

2004-08-31T14:28:00.000+02:00

Sparkling water can get you into a lot of trouble, like when you try and open the bottle just as a quiet moment settles on a group of people, before the sermon starts. Laughter erupted, and the holy moment probably broken.
Sometimes I feel just like the bubble trapped in a bottle, and just the slightest indication of opening the bottle, the bubbles just leap out of their confinement, and splashes all over anybody close enough. Irrespective of the moment. Sometimes its a burst of energy, that energies everybody around me, and sometimes - yes you guessed it - its like blazing flames, scorching the poor souls around ME.
So the next time I tried to have a sip of the water, I made very sure that the bottle stood still for a while, tapped it a bit to make sure that their would be not unexpected eruptions, and this is probably excatly what I should do when its building up, when I can see that this bursts will not be filled with laughter and energy but with hard words, unneeded advise and facial expressions that just tell you - get out of my way.

Such good intentions of which the road to heaven is paved.

On which on side of being lies doing

2004-08-07T11:26:00.000+02:00

So on the one side Darren, we do to much, we hurry along, we don't stop and have not idea on the where there the roses are growing - let alone smelling it. We tend to keep ourselves to busy, with the "right" things, and like Martha we prepare, "we - cook" and for relaxation "we cook some more", and like Martha we live on the edge of missing out on the the good stuff.
Maybe we get lucky - God intervenes, we get shocked into stillness, and realise that we have been hurrying along so fast that we missed out on LIFE, and then we hopefully start BEING.
We breath, we sit at His feet, we listen, we learn, we understand something about hte quiteness inside.
I realised that this quiteness is the place where I meet God, where he finds me, where I can hear His quiet voice.
And then I sat. With no need to control, no need to arrange, to "cook' to impress, I just revelled in being - quiet ( OK knowing me you realised at this point that I still had a lot to say, but for me not to do, was huge)
So here is the question I'm pondering, when and how does the doing borned from being begin, when is the doing free of pretence, and truly grew from the knowledge that quietness is the birthplace of doing - where do you cross over to the other side??

For this I know for sure.

2004-07-14T16:27:00.000+02:00

I don’t understand how aeroplanes stays in the air. How tons of metal can climb to 38 000 feet, and stay there for hours. Despite being expained to that is all about the pressure of the wings on air, I simply do not understand it, I just don’t get it.
I do understand that God loves us so much that He inspired the Wright Brothers to invent this wonderful machine that can fly, a machine that compacts the 15 hr drive form Johannesburg to Cape Town to only 2 hours.
Looking down from up here I do know that His love enfolds us – all of us, like the sky wraps around the earth.

I don’t understand how its possible to isolate us form the –50◦ C outside, I do know He cares enough to shield me, often from myself, by always giving me alternative choices.

We’ve been in the air for 45min, I’m so comfortable in this Lear-Jet, leather seats, view over the Free State, seeing all the dams and the reflection of the sun on the farm fences, and I am still baffled – even after flying for so many times. And I experience God right here, probably because I cannot figure this out, but feel quite comfortable knowing that He can.
However can I make the shift to experience Him in the everyday things that I can figure out – like traffic and making breakfast or doing 5 year planning, or crying because I am hurt, or joy when the sun warms me on a cold winters day, or the sight of sunset over Table-bay. Can I detect His Divinity in the mundane of everyday living.

As this I know for sure, for as long as God is just part of the religious silo of our lives, we miss the joy and freedom of living, of transporting the cognitive knowledge we have of God into experiencing Him, here and now.

I think its time to call it a day.

Centring Clay

2004-07-08T13:07:00.000+02:00

A few wonderful friends, realising that I am procrastinator at heart, deceided to spoil me for my 40 birthday, and enrolled me for pottery classes, in the very same building as where Claypot, meets on Sundays. After just 2 classes I realised that working with clay is excatly how God works with me, mouling me into His shape.

Its really cold when sitting, in winter, at a potterswheel. Arms dripping with clay-ish water, to make sure the clay is moist enought to work with. Before you start to create a pot, its fital to centre the clay on the wheel, to make sure that the ball of clay lies exactly in the middle. This is done while the wheel is turning. The potter places both hands (wet with water) on the clay, left palm on the side of the clay, right hand vertical ontop of the clay. Now pressure is applied to the clay pushing forward and downward until you can feel that they clay moves smoothly under your hands. Any deviation, any slight off centre movement will distort the pot.
Whilst sitting wiht my weary arms applying pressure until sweat kept the clay moist, I realised that this is exactly what God does to me. He applies pressure from all sides, from above to ENSURE that He is the centre of my life, and any deviation destorts my life. Even when sculpting everyday, He persists with this process, persists with the pressure to assist me in choosing to make HIM the centre of everything I do, to make every rhithm entrenched with Him , until I am moist enought so that He can sculpt my character into His.