Crying Ground

Yey! I havent been able to participate in FMF for some time, but glad to be back this week! Five Minutes of heartfelt writing, here goes!

Social media in South Africa is a buzz, I'm not on it much, I prefer to live a life where social media does not take a big chunk of my life. However, with the recent tragic farm killings that continue to take place here, and the public call to wear black on Monday as a sign of unity in our mourning, well it's not fair to hide away from this. Even though I haven't been watching the videos many are posting or getting caught up in the debates and dialogues, I cannot help but feel the sadness. Last night I actually crawled in to bed fearful. Today I woke up thinking how happy I am to be leaving South Africa for a few weeks on a ministry trip. I've never felt this way before. This place has always been home, but suddenly I'm aware that I'm overcome with tiredness.

I believe in the truthful reality of being the change you want to see. Of doing good whenever you can, wherever you can, especially in your community. But what happens when you suddenly have no hope that things can change? Farm murders have been happening for years in South Africa, it's our current genocide and it is tragic, disgusting and wrong. But can we change it? 

While lying in bed feeling suddenly fearful, I started praying asking Abba for understanding and light. My fear dissipated, even though my soul was still in turmoil. It's the desire of the righteous to see justice and to pursue it, that's what the Bible teaches us, and so if we are overcome by the desire to change injustice, it stems from a place of goodness. I'm wondering about the future here, but I know the safets place to be is in God's Will, wherever that may be. Hope overcomes despair, faith overcomes the challenges of daily living and I pray His protection and Justice will ultimately overcome what's happening here, as the blood of the innocent cries out from the chaotic, broken ground of South Africa.

STOP! Linking with Five Minute Friday
and Velvet Ashes

And then a Promise

I’ve window shopped online, being staring at the screen uninterested. To be honest, I’d love to be doing something else right now but between my headache and the nervousness that’s giving me a goldfish brain, I’m pretty much stuck with this. I’m stuck with the nervous subconscious stuff, and I guess it’s relevant.

We leading a week-long retreat camp in two days’ time, travelling and not knowing what to expect. Excited about it, but nervous. I don’t think I would feel this nervous if I was not also nurturing the reality of being away when my dad goes in for his heart operation this week. I remember the first time he went in for a heart op, I wrote English 206, Jane Austen essays, second year university. I did pretty well in that exam, but I remember looking up at the clock every half an hour thinking, he’s in now, I wonder how it’s going. The older I get the more these moments have held indescribable meaning, the value I attach to my family has become deeper, more settled. I’m led to believe that is the case from my friends who are much older than me. I guess that is why the older you get the harder it is to let go of things, physical things, so you end up hording. Most of the time, when you unpack one of my grandparents houses you will end up finding loads of old things and there’s a story for every single thing they own. Those stories were boring when you a teenager, but as you grow you realise your grandparents tell you those stories because through them retelling it, it holds profound and lasting meaning to them. Stories are a beautiful way of making things live, through our oral memories, we put flesh and bone on something that is merely a misty photo in our memory. Speaking of photographs, I’ve heard my mom and my aunts arguing about who gets the photos when my gran isn’t around anymore. She has a box of old photos, she lets us look at them every now and then, but no one gets to touch them. Those are sacred memories on paper.

Every day is a memory, perhaps I’ll look back on this one day in the same way as I do on my Jane Austen exam paper and remember this very moment. In fact, of all the exams I wrote, that is the one I remember the most, because it was coupled with a bigger story. God has given us as a family, profound peace about my father’s operation and I’m reminded of the promise God gave me when I was newly saved, that one day He would save my family. That promise still hasn’t happened yet and as I sat on the couch this evening, I heard Him tell me to read Joshua chapter 23. I was like – I don’t think there is a Joshua chapter 23 and maybe this isn’t God, but there is a twenty third chapter and it was God. My thoughts were empty save for one cry from my heart, what are you saying to me through this?

As I clung to the promise of salvation for my family and the promise of peace in the midst of this storm, Yeshua pulled me to verse 14 and whispered; “You know with all your heart and being that not even one of all the faithful promises the LORD your God made to you is left unfulfilled; everyone was realized--not one promise is unfulfilled!” Yahweh promised Israel so many things, so many beautiful things and every one was fulfilled in its time, not one remained unfulfilled, even the small ones. I am comforted by His unfailing Love and promise, my family will make it in the right time, in His perfect way. What amazing hope and comfort to know the King of Kings and to hear His voice. He is the One who knows the future and this year through some very hard, internal stuff I’ve really learned just how Sufficient my Messiah is, in absolutely everything. So here I am, more comforted than before, tucking this promise in to the folds of my spirit and praying for a good nights rest. Abba You have this, and I trust you, I trust You….