The Glory and Shame of District Six

Cape Town is not my city of birth and for some that will eternally mean I am not a ' real' Capetonian. In the words of Simba from the Lion King " Ha ha ha I laugh in the face if danger" :)
But Jokes aside, there is a richness and sadness to the History of Cape Town in particular which falls obviously into the wider and greater History of our beautiful and sad country. Much of this history rich with tales of slavery and war I read from the pages of my biased History book at school. So it is thrilling to me to be living here now and so being able to try and discover for myself the richness and, aroma the colours and beauty of Cape Town and some of its history.

Distict Six lies at the foot of the famous Table and is a prime and greatly situated piece of land. Each time we drive to the Waterfront the scar where once homes and hustle and bustle of a very rich life lies open like the wound it created in the hearts and minds of so many who once lived there. In the 1950's , when the then

Apartheid government decided to pass the Group Areas Act in so doing with the stroke of a pen created a monster . We live with that monster lurking and laughing as it is dragged and scratched from the law books but sadly not so easily from the tragic experience of those who used to live there.

Some jolting reminders of the reality of the country of my birth. A land I love very deeply. A country I feel ashamed because of the past. A country with so much beauty and hope for the future. During the 90's Doug and I were very much politically minded and he was involved in the then ANC. It was a very, very exciting time for us. The old days were on the way out and we stood on the cusp of the birth of a new country. Freedom and democracy stood tall and proud and it was a glorious day indeed. We gathered with thousands in Pretoria to experience the incorporation of President Nelson Mandela and we wept and sang for joy. Long gone were the days of bombs and death. Days were prejudge and segregation ruled and brought with them brutality and murder. Gone were the days where the state killed its citizens and people lived with terror and fear. We had passed from politically darkness into political light and it felt and seemed so good. Indeed it was good!


But I am diverging somewhat. My son in grade 5 is learning about population and in his studies there was a section on District six and the Group Areas Act. We decided to Google some stuff about District Six and this set me off. The old activist was back and I was once again in that place where those very deep reminders of the country I grew up in loomed so large again. In some ways I am grateful for these reminders. Like when Doug and I watched The Bang Bang Club last week. A great movie full of history and reality and yet so enormously painful to watch. We were transported back to that time and once again we said , " we just forget how absolutely awful this country was"........... It disturbed us for days afterward.

I end with this. This week our new democratic government passed a new bill on information. It is a difficult bill to understand and so I will not lay claim to being clear on all its ins and outs. I have listened to the debate and tried to glean form ANC stalwarts like Ben Turock what he does not feel comfortable with. I have listened to the voice of reason from Doug who sees past all the emotion and cuts to the core. I am still confused about the bill but am clearer on what should happen.
That is we should rejoice and be glad. That might sound strange to some because should this bill be implemented it does not bode well on all fronts and it was indeed a black Tuesday and yet.... and yet we should be glad. Over that week we had some great debate and people were able to voice their concerns. ( Hopefully not for the last time;) ) I rejoice because we no longer live in a place where laws exist to divide us and break us . We do not live in a country where civil war rules in Soweto and Kagiso and Thembis and Alex. We do not live in a country were people are forcebly removed from the foothills of the Table to the Cape Flats just because they have a dark skin. I realise this is simplistic but sometimes I wonder if we remember where we were..

South Africa is not a perfect Democracy. It has enormous problems which are depressing and concerning. But I thank Jesus for his mercy on us. While we were still sinners he died for us so that we could be reunited with him. Because he rules we are able to experience relative peace and gain some real healing in relationships where the past broke and Jesus has healed.

Nkosi Sikele IAfrika - God Bless Africa..... hear our cry.

Silent Tears

I have decided to write about something that chills most people to the bone. Childhood sexual abuse.

I have to pause here and really think about how to approach what I feel needs to be said. I ponder the hesitation and conclude that this is a very heavy topic. Perhaps a topic to heavy to talk about in the open. But this even I feel I must say something. Just something.......

Over these two weeks I have spoken to 2 women who are brave enough to share their stories with me. Brave, brave women who have survived and more than that who live and grow and flourish as women despite the horrid experiences they endured at the wicked hands of another.

As I was cooking supper this evening an anger began to rise within me and so I decided to write about the silent tears that are shed by those who walk among us; those we know and love ; those we work with; hundreds upon hundreds of women and men who as little girls were violated in a sexual way. As I stirred the tomato I absentmindedly began to count how many women had shared their story with me. In a flash I counted 5. With more careful consideration I can count up to 20 such women. A brother, uncle, father, teacher, cousin, friend's father, domestic help , neighbour, grandfather, boyfriend of a sibling, etc. etc......

Childhood sexual abuse is wicked. It lurks about like an invisible mist traveling here and there and destroying and breaking as it goes. As I listen to these women and their individual stories I am struck by a few things. Firstly they are broken and have been very deeply wounded by their experience. Secondly each woman had searched out professional help which probably enabled them to speak openly about their pain and experience and lastly each knew the person who had abused them personally.

This evening I would like to salute these women. Women of great courage and strength. Women who traveled towards their deep pain and hurt and longed for healing and searched for it. Women who have risked trusting another human being when all they knew about trust was destroyed.

I also want to salute the loving men who have come along side these women and cared and loved enough. These men have been part of the healing and help that these women needed. Each has described a husband who has been part of the real and rightly intended intimacy and been part of the healing.

I know that many of them have faced great struggles and hurdles to healing but have preserved. Perhaps these wounds and hurts will be a life long challenge. For many women Jesus has been their constant love and hope and healer. How great he is.....

As I hear and struggle with the absurd wickedness of man in these cases, I am so aware of today. Yes we are so much more aware of Childhood sexual abuse and we talk and prepare our kids with tools to stand up "should they fall victim" to such wickedness but the truth is that evil is alive and well in man ............... So I want to encourage parents to continue with talk and tools and always be aware. Never let down your guard in this regard and if you know Jesus then cry out to him for wisdom and help and safety.

I end with a heavy heart aching for the deep wounding of the silent ones. May God have mercy on us.

10 years of The Life Cycle of the Silkworm

10 years ago we moved into our house. James was about 2 and Thomas was a tiny,newborn baby. Someone gave us silkworms. I was new to the neighbourhood and did not know where to find a mulberry tree to feed these tiny wrigglers. We searched and searched and in the end I sat down on the lawn in our very big garden and prayed. I did not want James to be sad when they all dies of starvation.

I had not really paid very, very keen attention the the kinds of plants and trees in the garden. As I sat there and prayed and looked around there I noticed that the one strange , weeping, miniature looking tree was getting leaves and indeed it was a mulberry tree. Our very own in our garden. I was thrilled. This dear tree has grown over the years and has brought us much joy with all the fruit it bears as well as the great learning experiences we have had these passed 10 years with these silkworms.

Each year I put the eggs away somewhere safe with a tiny label on the box that reads "silkworms". The eggs are all but forgotten through the winter but when the new leaves start sprouting I always seem to remember the eggs. This year Adele reminded me and there the tiny catterpillars had begun to hatch. They were a little early for our tree and so she kindly worm sat them for us until they could come home.

We have had some great times chatting about these odd little caterpillars. We have tried to discover which are male and which female ; which is the head and which the tail ; do the stripey ones spin the yellow cocoons? and much more. James recently studied in more depth the life cycle at school and so it was fun to put time to this process.

Thanks be to God for his fun and creative genius.

How we did Halloween.

We decided to do Halloween in a new way this year. In previous years we have tried to steer clear of all the "trick and treating" by turning off our doorbell. One year a stunning lady from our church, Marietjie, had us all over and told us some stories about Jesus and had some sweets for the kids. That was very special. This year we decided to make little bags of sweets for the kids who came around. In each we put a little verse about God and his love and most of all and best of all we all prayed for each little person. It was a great opportunity for us to stick like glue as a family together and to make a stand for Christ. I am not going to say that Christians should or should not trick or treat, that is for their conscience and their convictions but for us, for now we have decided not to take part in this tradition. Instead we have really practiced praying for our neighbourhood and sharing in a wee bit of Gods love in a practical way! It was for us, especially James, something actual to sink his spiritual teeth into. It was fun and well worth the effort. So if you came to our door last night know you are much love by God and much prayed for by us!

ADHD - Our Journey

We are a family with ADHD. This is our story!!

The label of the age must be this one .ADHD. Everywhere you turn and most people you talk to have at least heard of it. In fact, most people you talk to will probably have all sorts of ideas and especially opinions on ADHD and what it is or is not and especially on the R word.... Ritalin. I have a little joke that whenever I mention that My son and or husband take Ritalin , the persons eyes go all googly and they get frothy in the mouth. Then they proceed to tell you why your child should Not take Ritalin. But I am jumping to far now.....

Lets start at the beginning because every good story has a beginning somewhere.

When our son was a little boy, before school, I was sure he had ADD. Coming from a teaching background I knew enough about it but not enough about it to know for sure. He displayed some of the inattentive behaviour and the fidgety, fiddly stuff but I actually knew so little at tat time and so was completely unaware of what to look for. I did not know that ADHD could come without the H - Hyperactive. I remember thinking that he w=must be deaf - really deaf because he seemed so not to hear but in reality he was so focused on a thing he did not hear. As he grew and developed so to did his supper fast brain. Thats what we call it. He has and he know he has a super fast brain. He was quick as lightening and fast as flint on the ideas front. When he was in grade R I recall his teacher and the teacher before being critical of my pushing him to always be right and be first but in reality this was not the case. He was always a very sensitive boy and one who really struggled with frustration. Around this time we discovered through a varied path, that my husband was ADHD. So as we grappled and struggled and read and searched for help on the Adult front, our sons boredom and inattention and insensate talking grew and grew.

God was so gracious to us and we managed to find other people who were ADHD and good doctors to help. By this time he was in a deep depression and for those who know, People with ADHD often struggle with depression. We decided to have our son assessed by and Educational Psychologist in his grade one year. We went to a well known and experienced person in Cape Town, and after extensive assessment, we came out with a bit more understanding. This is a highly intelligence child with ADHD. He is so funny because he jokes that his brain reaches the conclusion way before others but he gets distracted and so they all reach the goal at the same time. How delightful is that?

I recently attended a very helpful talk on Medication and ADHD. I learned again the ADHD is genetically passed on so if one parent is on the spectrum then there is a 50% chance of a child being ADHD. We have one for sure another , smaller one ,perhaps!! Watch this space.

ADHD are incredible people. They have an enormous amount of perseverance in difficult situations and an out of the box way of viewing life. They love risky and dangerous things and so the art of steering the child towards safe risk is needed. Just today our son said he would like to feel what it feels like to roll in a car so he could be upside down. I pointed him to The Cobra at Ratanga Junction rather than a fast school bus and an accident. "But mom we would be strapped in, in the bus", he protested. :)

We embarked on the journey of reading prolifically about ADHD and talking and reading and crying and struggling. We also tried Ritalin. Ritalin is a stimulant drug. It is a schedule 6 drug in South Africa and so needs to be carefully considered before it is used. Under the very careful care of our Neurological doctor, we decided to give it a try. I remember his teachers words on that first school day. She was a delightful and perfect teacher for him and she greeted me at the door and said " Like chalk and cheese". I knew for sure that he needed this drug to help him at school and over these two years we have discovered that he has benefited greatly from it.

But this is not a push for Ritalin, it is simply our story. He can now tell us that he feels the difference when he takes it and is able to focus at school.
My Husband too has been taking it and I notice the difference in his fidgety body and ability to keep attention when needed and he notices how he has begun to use it with great success at work.

This ADHD is indeed a journey. I would be up the creek without a paddle if we did not have Jesus who is the rock and anchor. He is there when things get rough and we need wisdom and help. He always enables me to say sorry because I frequently need to do that - both to my husband and my son. He gives us grace to accept the strengths and weaknesses in us all and grace to help and encourage where we need to. I am so grateful we know this diagnoses. The truth is it is a struggle and at times it is exhausting but we press on knowledge of what we are dealing with and also with support from good friends and groups that understand ADHD and accept our children as they are, quirks and all.

Of course there are good days and failings. Sometimes the words of those who think they know ADHD and yet dont are hurtful and draining. Some days are great and full of enormous spontaneous fun. God has blessed our son with a deep yearning for himself and an understanding of his failings and need for grace. He often talks to me about assurance and how he messes up. "Am I A Christian mom?" he will ask. I walk him through the truth of Jesus and we pray and we press on.

There are some great books to help and a great web site that I would recommend too.

www.additudemag.com


and Learning to slow down and pay attention by K.Nadeau and E.B. Dixon

as well as
Understanding ADHD by DR Christopher Green. These two books are priceless in helping parents who have children on the spectrum.

This is part of our story: a glimpse of our journey. We press on with our great God who made us and gave us our gifts and talents. He spread before us the road each of us will walk on and is here with us in the mess and joy of life. he is our strength and gives us grace as we negotiate ADHD and its effects on life.
We were the label with confidence and knowledge knowing that the grand and brighter label shines above each of us Falconers. That of - I belong to Him.

I love that God brings people into our lives who need help and support in this area. We are here with experience and with some knowledge of doctors and books and roads to consider. We are always here to encourage and help where we can. Thanks be to God!

Praise God!

You alone are worthy, you alone can save. You alone can lift us from the grave. You came down to find us, led us out of death. To you oh Lord belongs the highest praise!!

Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord. Our God he reigns forever.

It is good to praise God.
Thank you for all you are and do for us and in us to your glory!

The Words we Use!

I just love this picture. It speaks of so much kindness and love wrapped up in words. I am indeed a words person and my key love language is "words of encouragement". It goes without saying that words matter to most of us. The things we say can encourage or they can hurt. Words are not just words but they carry with them messages as they journey on into the life of another. This morning I was listening to a radio broadcast of Focus on the Family from the USA. The circumstances of the people telling their painful stories was in connection with infertility. I was interested as I listened that their experience of the kinds of things people said to them , though well meaning and yet deeply hurtful , could be taken and applied to most painful life circumstances. I decided to write something of the experience that thoughtful and careless words have had in my life.

The journey that God has placed me on has been exciting and varied in many ways. I may not have been the most adventurous person on the planet but I have had my fair share of life adventure. There have been the usual great moments of joy, happiness and fun as well as those that bring grief and a real scense of loss and pain. Because I am a Christian and know that Jesus is real and at work in the world and in my life, I can reason and think through the circumstances of my life, be they good or sad, with Him as my reference point. Jesus has brought very real healing and help in many areas of my life. Through the tough times and great times too, I long and strive to see his hand and work and to keep on trusting that he has a plan. I say all this because this is the framework on which I hang life. Jesus is the reason I write the things I do and in this blog, the very heart of this theme - The words we use. Jesus is interested about the words we use and the Bible has a great deal to say about our tongue.

God is so gracious and kind and his kindness and grace has flowed like a river in my life. I do not deserve his love and quite honestly at times wonder why he bothers with me. He made me and so knows what makes me tick and although it has taken me all these 42 years to come to a more fuller understanding of myself and my reactions to life and people, He knows me totally. I say that he is kind because despite all the times I have messed up with the words I have used and there are many times, he has continued to gently show me how I fail and where I need to change or think about the words I use ; the way I speak ; when to be silent and when to talk. Oh to often I have ventured where man should not and trodden on the pain and heart ache of another. For all these times I am ashamed and sorry. But God is kind and longs for us to grow in goodness and kindness . He longs for us to be His hands and feet and yes even his mouth in this broken world and so he has continued to grow me in this area. I am far from perfect and He is far from finished with me but I am excited and eager on this journey.

As I listened to this talk today and heard how some of the things we say to people who are struggling can really hurt and not heal at all, I though not only of the times I had hurt or been insensitive but also the times people have hurt me. In the very dark and deep valleys of my life I have also experienced the sharp and thoughtless words of some well meaning person. When all is said and done and the valley recedes to reveal a bright peak again , I wonder not only at what the motive was for some of the really daft things said but also at the effects. The challenge is to forgive and to grow in godliness in all these situations.

I am convinced that when someone is in pain or struggling with life, the best thing to say is often nothing. Simply being there and allowing the person feel their pain with you just being there is often the perfect use of words. I wonder if people who mean well rush in with words because they feel they need to fix the situation. Other times people want to help with Gods words and there is a time for these when they will and do bring great comfort; but being still and present with someone in pain is often ok. In fact it is more than ok, it is a comfort and real help. I really appreciated the words of those who kindly acknowledged how tough it was and how painful it must be to ...... whatever the situation.

The old saying " sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never harm me" is not true. The things we say and the way we say them carry much healing or great pain. A helpful book on the topic of words is " Words that Hurt and Words that Heal" by Carole Mayhall. In it she uses biblical ideas to explore themes. it is a great and easy read and I have found it very helpful as God is transforming my words so that they can be a fountain of life and not a sledgehammer on the pain and brokenness and deep struggles of others.

I am so aware of my words and so aware of my failings in this area. May God continue to work - heal and curb ; use and shape me for his glory even in this area of my words ; words ; words!!

I am His

Excellence......... Achievement.............winning...........The Best............on top...........Highest score.......

These words and many more, just like these, are words I have been wrestling with and thinking about. What does it mean to be excellent at something. How can I rate myself and should I even bother? Does it matter? What if I am mediocre after all and nothing I do is every really excellent or the very, best of all?

The internet is literally full of ideas on excellence and achievement. We seem to live in at a time in history, when what matters most is -How well we do , How much we achieve and the measure of our achievements seems to be stuff. In other words the amount of things we accumulate, especially expensive things like houses full of lavish furniture and fancy cars and great schools etc, seems to be the outward mark of success.

Here are some quotes I found on excellence.....

" The noblest search is the search for excellence". L.B. Johnson

or

" Strive for perfection in everything. Take the best that exists and make it better. If it does not exist, create it. Accept nothing nearly right or good enough" - Henry Royce

I think these two quotes capture the heart of the striving of modern western mankind and we, because of where and when we live , are sucked into the vortex of excellence and striving and achieving that which is excellent. We are driven to be the very best and we aim to stand up above all other human beings so that we can be seen and recognised as the best.

While I think it is good to work hard and to use the gifts we have been given and do our very personal best, I am left wondering if the "striving for perfection in everything" is at a great cost. I am left to wonder at whether this message of making that which exist even better and always doing more and achieving more is indeed a worthy goal at all.

I wonder what God thinks of all this?

From my own personal experience, my own striving for perfection have generally come up empty handed in some way or another.It is incredibly difficult to maintain some level of perfect performance. It is quite frankly exhausting. So while I think it is good to do my best and use the gifts God has given me to do the best I can in any given situation , it seems and is tough.

Striving and working well towards a goal is indeed a good thing and in itself the accomplishment of a goal is a good thing too. Yet I find my myself pondering how all this striving for achievement is somehow not linked to our deep desire to be recognised and seen somehow as significant. Perhaps we desire so much to be admired or seen as excellent at something or another because deep down we long to " leave our mark" in this world. We long for our life to have meaning and so we make meaning in a way and that meaning is all wrapped up in achievement and perfection and doing well in this life.

"The secret of joy is contained in one word- excellence" - P.S.Buck

This quote says a great deal about where the heart finds joy but the big question flowing from this kind of idea is this; What if all I do is not excellent. What if all I do is simply "good enough" or just "OK" even mediocre? What does that say about my joy or my happiness or my value in this world.

The shifting standard of the worlds ideas on excellence and perfection and beauty and all the grand ideas are very difficult for most people to reach. In some areas we may succeed and in some areas few succeed. These are the hero's of the day paraded for us in Television and in magazines and newspapers. I think " good for them" and well done for and excellent performance. But most of us will not achieve these kinds of goals in life. I also wonder what personal or family sacrifices they had to make and at what cost did all the fame come at.

God has some very radical things to say about perfection. In stark contrast to the world and its standard of what is excellent, God has some very thought provoking things to say.

"You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." Matthew 5.48

Well, that lifted the standard and shifted the bar somewhat? So I am no longer to look to the worlds stand of perfection but God my Father who is perfect in every way must be my measure.

This is a great place to start. So I am to stop comparing myself to what the world around me says is the measure of excellence and I am to be perfect like God. Wow!! This is talking about moral purity and perfection and not our ward achievements but I think the two are linked in a way. I say this because the inner character of a person; who he or she really is morally will flow out in how he or she operates in life and sets about achieving and working out his/ her life. In other words the way we live our life is linked to the understanding we have about how we work as moral beings.
This verse also tells me what is important to God. God is interested in my character and my moral status . He is interested in what I think and how I speak and how I treat others . He is interested in what I do with my time, money, gifts and all that I am. He wants me to shift the standard of life from the world and lift it way way up. All the way up to HIM.

And so I find that the things that the world we live finds important and essential to what would be a great and excellent life are not how God measures. God values the things in my life in a very different way.

" Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own." Philippians 3:1

I just love this verse. It speaks about working hard - pressing on - never giving up - keeping on. The life of the Christian is all about pressing on. We are to leave what is behind us in the past and we are to persevere in this life. We are to work hard at keeping on the right pathway, that is God's way of living life which is found in the bible. The motivation is plain to see in this quote. Why do we press on? Well because Jesus has made us his own. How amazing. The God of the universe has made us the creature his own. We belong to him and so have enormous value and significance. We are his. If we rest in this valuable position we no longer need to look for our significance from others. We can stand in this precious position of value and love and a real belonging and we can shine for God. His opinion matters not man.

"But godliness with contentment is great gain" 1 Timothy 6:6

So to end end off I would like to focus on one of the key christian truths which help us to live well for God in this world. Thinking about and working towards practicing being satisfied , not only in our heads but in our hearts too is a key. If we ask God to give us this gift we will be living a life full of greatness and peace. Peace with him and peace about the gifts and achievements we may have or may indeed not have. We will be free to live a truly full life; full of passion and love for God and others in which we live with deep satisfaction with that which we have in every area of life.

There is so much more to be said about all this but I will stop here for now. In chatting to a special friend about all these issues we both decided that we would encourage each other that to remember that our value and significance is found in God - in Jesus Christ. So when our works look mediocre in this world and fall way short of the outward achievement standards set bu the world we live in, we remind ourselves to percervere in the way of life that God has placed his stamp of approval on. He loves us and approves of us if we are his. So rest if you are weary dear brother or sister in the Lord and take heart.

Dying but Alive

I have a special friend.

Today I saw her after a brief break. Her heart is broken as she watches a good girl friend of hers die. This is a mother of four young children; a women of great courage and strength; a wife , a friend, a daughter herself. I have followed her story through this dear friend. I have felt sorrow and prayed many prayers. The young mother is my sister in Christ. I have not met her or ever talked to her. Yet we have a bond in Him that binds us together as sisters and through my dear friend I have lived and felt and cried too. But today I feel so, so heavy with sorrow and sadness for this family. My dear friend holds her sadness and shared with me that the mother ; wife and child of God , has but only a few weeks. Yes God might heal her, he certainly can but more than that .... these words struck me. My friend who shared and is so sad told me that although this mother, this wife is dying - riddled with cancer - her body is wasting and dying before all those who love her.... Yet , yet , my friend said " she is so alive".

"She is so Alive" are the words that sit with me as I ponder this deeply, sad story. The wife , mother, friend , sister and daughter; my sister in Christ is being held in the tender, loving arms of Jesus as he waits to greet her on the other side. Go well sweet Di!! Keep the faith. We are praying for you and he is holding you. I look forward to meeting you one day.

" She is so Alive"

Chrisitan Rap is not usually my thing. But this is cool and real.

The Gospel By Propaganda - YouTube

For Di

a life well lived

a life blessed

to know him

to be found in him

and known by him

a life so full

of stories to tell

where the journey meandered

through peaks of joy and love

and valleys of sadness and pain

yet he was there

you could not see him

he walked alongside you

calling gently then more audibly

until the hidden journey appeared

like a royal banquet

he has given you a hope for the future

he has revealed his plans for you

and so you stand secure

with eyes wide open

and mind set on new and glorious realities

each breath from the very first

one that drew in the air

and shouted live, live, live

to that final one you share with us

as you pass from life to life

and oh much more

so look back and frown no more

shed not a tear

rather look forward with joy, with hope

to colourful, extravagant celebration

where you will be seated with him

here we share in the celebration

of a life lived to the full

having passed seventy years

journeying here and there

upon the earth

with thankful hearts we share

and celebrate with you

standing hand in hand

we have come to say well done

we love you

you are precious to us

don't give up the race

because you are nearly at the finish line

nearly, nearly home.

On a Lighter Note

3 Dogs; rabbits;fish, a bird, a cat and a pair of hamsters and 2 rats. These are the creatures we call Pets!!
We are learning a great deal about looking after animals. I have learned that children can only manage to care for animals with any measure of success, if an adult is involved and encouraging.

That job has fallen into my lap and I am actually ok with it. My childhood was filled with animals of all kinds but especially dogs , cats and horses and so in reality , having lots of animals around is second nature to me. Doug grew up loving birds and fish and he was really very involved with building tanks and cages and looking after them. His love and interest of fish he has carried with him into adult life.




And so having and enjoying animals is part of who Doug and I are and so it flows down into the lives of our boys.

We are learning how much hard work it takes to care for animals well. They need daily care. The boys are responsible for feeding and giving water to the rabbits, hamsters and bird. I am around to fill in the gaps too. The cleaning of the cages is a task not to be taken lightly, especially as far as the rabbits are concerned. Yuck!! is all I can say. That task has fallen predominantly to me with the help of smaller hands too. The rich rabbit poo has set my mind in motion and we are thinking of developing rabbit compost.

We have learned that baby rabbits come along with alarming frequency. They are born blind and naked and the mothers are not very good at caring for them. And so we have experienced death and sadness. Some litters have been lost to the cold.

We have learned that we can sell the babies to our local pet shop and so we are experiencing the rules of demand and supply.

We are learning how much fun it is to have an animal for company and fun. We have learned that noisy animals annoy some people and we are in the process of managing our very lovable, chatty and noisy dog Luke.

Questions that need answers like " do rabbits go to heaven?" or " how did that mommy have more babies without the daddy?".
We have learned that we can not just go on holiday and lock the animals up but have to ask friends to care for a rat or a bird. We have learned to share our animals with others who do not have pets. We have learned that baby rabbits can have a bath in the birds water and survive and that hamsters do not survive when caught in the wooden garage lift. Other things like a rabbit likes to watch TV with you but might wee on your lap or a baby bunny can survive the day behind a cushion where it was hidden and our little dog will bite a guinea pig left on a bench. We found out the sad way that potato is poisonous for rabbits and Guinea pigs and that rats can get fat.
We decided that having a snake is something for the future when the task of cleaning does not land on moms lap. At the snake I draw a line!

We have marveled at God's creatures and thank him for the joy of learning something about life from them.

The Scream

The Scream by Edvard Munch.

Scream

It would feel great to scream,
to just let rip and let it all come out
in one loud, blood curdling scream.
Like the person in the painting
just not so quite insane.
I am not insane you see
but , at times there rises up in me this urge to
shout out really loud
and tell it ;like it is.
Be done with all this nicely, nicely stuff
and to say it like it is.
But, that is not how it is
or aught to be
so I bite my lip
and shout inwardly
oh so so loudly
the mountains nearby could hear
and the heavens would feel
The Scream from within

Walk like an Egyptian.

The Grade 5 Egyptian display was great!!

Here are some friends all dressed up and roaring to go!!

Pharaoh and his vizier below looking great!!

We were invited to enjoy the Egyptian exhibition of sorts at Sweet Valley Primary School.
James and his class mates have worked very hard on many aspects of this theme. The study of Egypt as an African ancient civilization falls under the bigger theme of Ancient Civilizations around the world.
Doug and I enjoyed seeing all the children dressed up as well as sharing their other work. They have learned a great deal about this interesting cicilization as well as getting to grips with group work and sharing ideas.
Well done!!

Grade 3 celebrate spring 2001 -Thomas' year

Here are the beautiful flowers that the grade 3 children took to the Old Age Home last week. Today, at school, the parents were treated to the little show. Well done to all the children.

A struggle with Assurance

'For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:37-39

I have found these words in scripture to be of enormous encouragement over these last few days. For a while now I have been struggling with what I call Spiritual Depression. I have found myself through my circumstances and struggles , disconnected from the living God. The scriptures have become dry and dusty; mere words without comfort or challenge. I could no longer hear the voice of God as I read his word or sat in church. I felt depressed and without hope. My emotions completely underwhelmed me and all I know of our Great God simply slipped away. However hard I tried I just could not feel him , see him or hear his voice. I felt totally alone and very, very miserable.

However, when God is real and involved in a life he never ever lets them go. He is faithful and kind and living and at the right time he gently drew me back again. I had shared with my husband who was so encouraging prayed for me regularly ; I shared with my prayer friends who were equally loving and reassuring and I had shared with a friend my state. While they prayed and talked and reminded me of the truth that is and I seemed to sink deeper into despair , God was at work.

One day last week I had some time to read while waiting for children. I read Psalm 100 - God reminded me that I am to shout for joy and worship God with gladness because he is God and I am his child. The psalm goes on to say that we may enter his gates with thanksgiving and praise. It was with these very words that I was reminded that I am forgiven and that I may enter his presence . I may go into The Living God's very presence because of Jesus and I may be thankful. Wow! I was struck again of the simple truth of who God is and what he has done for me. I was restored and forgiven and he has removed my sin. I was back in the fold.

Then God in his grace gave me two reminders. Firstly he reminded me of who I am and how much he loves me through some good friends who share their lives with us and then through his word on Sunday which was from Romans 8:37. We were reminded with the beautiful truth that nothing , absolutely nothing will or can separate us from God's love that is found in Jesus.

And so once again I can stand and sing with my heart and my head -" you have promised you will lead us to your throne. We
here we will worship you and you alone". and "For one day we will stand before you Lord. Our all together beautiful reward. And we will give you glory, give you honour . King above all Kings. You deserve our everything. we will lift our voices with your praises. Jesus you are our King." tree 63 King.

I am so grateful that my being and staying faithful to God does not depend on my ability to love Jesus or serve him or obey him but rather is placed in his hands and so I know with certainty that I will stand before him one day. What a joy and comfort that is. I am so grateful for Christian friends who faithfully help us as we help them when we stumble and fall. We serve a mighty and most wonderful God and I can not wait to meet him face to face one day.

On Being Made Vulnerable

On being made Vulnerable.

Being made vulnerable was forced on me

Like a strong armed man beating his opponent to the ground

Or a wrench clasping and turning that bolt

Opening up the object held shut beneath it.

And so a real, deep sharing happened.

It was not that long ago

When the newness of life uncurled itself

And breathed it’s very, very first and precious breath.

How very deeply personal and precious

being made to be vulnerable is.

It is like handing the most delicate thing

Into the hands of another.

Will they receive the gift with the care it needs?

Will they trample on vulnerability itself

And laugh as they leave?

Being vulnerable hovers and hangs.

It hovers in that place between secret and known;

Between darkness and light

And it pushes and prods to rush out and scream

“I am here”

And so it was that deep things were shared

in that giving of myself all other parts changed.

I changed.

But this I know;

He was there then.

He is here now.

Shirt sleeves pushed up

As he carves and shifts,

As He carefully, thoroughly

Weaves His perfect pattern.

Yet, the struggle continues

It can not seem to find a resting place.

my thoughts are restless

my soul cries out to Him.

Oh how he washes his love and presence

It flows like a never ending river

Bringing life and hope

Because the cost for Him was complete

And He gave everything he had

The world? Oh much more.

He gave his all and I lost some too.

Yet he understands that, even that.

Thank you.

Being made to be vulnerable

Brought deep love

It revealed His hand and plan, in part.

Yet sadness and sorrow rested there too.

For haughty eyes and proud hearts

Gathered to peck at the remains.

When life runs smooth and kind

And struggles seem few

Beware, beware, beware!

For you know not the depth and toil

That another might have.

Rather let gratitude and love rest

You know not when time will call you

As it gathers the wind to blow and thrash

Upon the shores of your life.

Calling you to be made vulnerable.

All in a day!!

This life of mine is full of news. Stories and tales and gossip of sorts. Most of it happy and glad and fun but then there are times when my heart is so burdened; so saddened ; so cast down with the deep sorrow that flows from a life.
Like the sadness I heard this week of a young man who died. He died in his sleep with his mother and father and brother still there. They tried, oh how they tried but he died. All the hard work of the years at University brought to a sudden and untimely end. It is wrong when children die. it is all wrong!
Or the sad news I heard from the mouth of my boy. " Olivia 's brother died". I stopped. I knew him you see. Though his brain was broken and he drooled and grunted, he was a alive and now he is dead. Today I saw his mother. Strong and independent in spirit and yet so sad and distracted. I wanted to call out to her above all the noise. " I am so, so sad for your loss". But really what does one say to a mother who is grieving the loss of her child. The child she carried for 9 months and knew and loved so. There are no words you see.

Yet Jesus sees all this and he weeps too. All I can do is talk to him about the this mom and that one. And then there is the friend who is picking up the pieces of a marriage all broken and gone. How do I care for her and love her? I ask Him to hold her and love her as I try and mumble some words that encourage and extol her to carry on in life.

And then in the midst of all this my boy is so sad and anxious and I have to leave and big tears roll silently down his round cheeks and my heart all but breaks in two. And when we are home and my other boy comes and shares his pain and heart ache over a friend who is mean. He cries and I cry inwardly. My bucket is not big enough Oh Lord to hold all this pain and sadness. But you Jesus have hands and a heart that can hold it all. Please take it and lift load.

I am old now.

Thomas' class put on a show for at a local old age home. It was both beautiful and sad. That is what this poem is all about.

I am Old Now

The sign above the entrance reads " Service Center"
A sea of grey hair was spread out in front of us.
They wait so still, so patiently for us
to come and bring in cheer
with flowers and smiles and songs
we brighten their day.

You were there too.

Once you were full,
full of life and energy,
Once time ruled you like a fist
as you were rushed about by the real demands of this life.
But now, time spreads endlessly before you
like a flat, still ocean.
What does time hold for you today?

Once , not so long ago, noise and purpose filled your day
But now you rest and wait in the stillness of The Home.
Before your busy hands helped those who you love and cared for
but now unknown hands lift you up so you can stand
and walk
and go where you are told to go.

When time was young and life was full
You kept yourself busy with the things of life.
You crammed your brain with words from books you loved
You allowed your thoughts to focus and grow
But now you thoughts are hard to contain
They flow here and there and words ramble
and confuse themselves.

When you look in the mirror
where once a young face stared back
with expectation and confidence
now the eyes that gaze back at you
are old and lost
hidden in the wrinkles of skin stretched by life
held up by a bent and broken body
frail and brittle.

And so you wait
the fullness of your life has passed
for you and so you wait......

What are you waiting for?
Do you still have hopes and dreams ?
Or have you said goodbye to these
buried beneath a pile of a shattered life?

A strong wooden cross stands tall
It casts a shadow over all the grey,
old people in The Home.
You are there too.
It stands tall and strong
He calls to those who sit expectantly beneath it

While the body ages
and does not last; while you wait for death
look to the cross that stands so tall and strong
so that you can wait with hope and real expectation.
For the One who rules and loves is the One who died
so that this curse called aging and death
would loose its sting.

Wait knowing that the One who died for you
is eagerly , patiently waiting
for you.

So when the body breaks a grows oh so weary
Take heart in your spirit oh soul
for God is not finished with you yet
and when he is done
and you have run His race
the waiting will be done
you will be going home.

A Fab School Outing

The Grade 3 classes at Sweet Valley Primary School visited an old age home in the area today. We boxes and boxes full of pretty spring posies. The children were all dressed up in colourful clothing and had created giant, hand held drawings of spring bugs and flowers to use as props in their little performance.

The men and women in the home were all seated and waiting when we arrived. Row after row of aged, grey haired people sat facing the little make shift stage. In the background a giant wooden cross stood tall on the wall.

And off they all went. What a delightful show it was including specially chosen and thoughtful songs that would hold appeal for these old folk. It was grand and colourful and fun with lots of smiles and even some chocolates to go around. Well done sweet grade 3 children and well done teachers and music department.

Wriggle and Rhyme

For almost 2 years now I have been running the Bergvliet Wriggle and Rhyme music groups in my home. It has truly been a time of great fun and learning.
I simply love having the parents, nannies or grannies in our home. The little children who come and share in the music time have been a great delight to me.
Wriggle is awesome. The actual programme which is the brain child of Kirsty Savidies, is well thought through and caters to the ages of the children exceptionally well. It is fun, engaging and the children get to learn while having fun with music and instruments.

My highlights are the beginning when we all settle down to sing the familiar hello songs. To see the recognition and delight as I tap out a beat on the wood block never ceases to amaze me. Whenever a child begins to grasp the concept and join it it is very special for me too. It is actually a privileged to she in these little lives.
I love to see how each little person develops over the term. He or she might be an observer and suddenly become an active and real participant. Wriggle has afforded me enormous pleasure and has allowed me to enjoy the teaching aspect of teaching while in my home.

I am so grateful the The Lord for this time. I can love other children and still get to be with my own children.

My old Friend

My faithful old friend is back.

He has returned so strong and full of courage.

Not the kind of courage one needs to face a fear

But the kind that lays bare the heart and reveals old wounds

That tramples and rides rough shod over ground long forgotten.

My old friend rejection is back

To rule and swagger as he likes.

He laughs and jeers as he roams.

Who can stand when rejection comes around?

He knows just where to prod and push

Deep inside where old wounds lie buried.

He digs them up and waters them so

Fresh growth sprouts and sadness grows;

Here he has some rich soil to toil and play.

My old friend rejection has come knocking

Once again he calls me out

So that he can play.

The rules of this game are oh so familiar

He roams freely, gathering a memory here and an old hurt there.

My old friend rejection is here again

How long will he stay this time?

And when will he return?

He was carried along when words of “love”

And “kindness” and “this is for your good” – we love you so

Found place in hearts and hands that scribed them down

And rushed them on like a speed train destined for nowhere in particular.

Yet the “love” and “kindness” brought no love or any kindness

but rather, left their mark or deep despair and great heartache

where rejection stands tall and powerful

and laughs out loud for all to hear.

The Invisible - anon

When I opened my mail today, a friend had sent me this beautiful story as an encouragement and a blessing. Here it is.......


It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the
way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask
me a question.

Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'

Obviously, not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or
even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands,
nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being.
I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer,
'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around
5:30,
please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes
that studied history and the mind that graduated suma cum laude - but now
they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's
going; she's going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a
friend from England ..

Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and
on about the hotel she stayed in.

I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so
well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a
beautifullywrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .

I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription:

'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building
when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book.
And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths,
after which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their
names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see
finished.

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of
God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny
bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are
you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be
covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied,
'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.

It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I
see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are
building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will
become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own
self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one
of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to
work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever
be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to
sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's
bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the
morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd
built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come
home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add,
'you're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're
doing it right.

And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at
what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by
the sacrifices of invisible women.