Zoey

Im back. As usual it is either Christ or death that brings me here. This time it is an impending death. We are all dying,  just some sooner than others.

Zoey became Lintons baby, as a puppy 14 years ago. She entered my life in 2010 and moved in 18 months ago. She is the most adorable everything-eater you have ever seen,  a playful yet protective demeanour,  she would with little doubt, selflessly defend the people she loves.

Last week what was first believed to be a  douse of kennel cough, turned out to be full blown lung cancer, beyond operable, and our gentle giant was left in Gods hands.

Tonight she lays in her bed tired from the now chronic cough,  but saved any pain that cancer may bring. The exhaustion the only enemy of her comfort.

Tonight she lays there as I cry in a way I have cried at no humans deathbed,  let alone grave. There is something spectacular about animals,  about dogs, that makes them divine. Unlike their bipedular counterparts,  they know forgiveness,  dedication,  and unrestricted,  unconditional love. They show this love. They live with this love.

For some reason, with this amazing kind of personalities God gives them to us for the longest shortest time.  Maybe he does this so that the animals who did not find requited love,  only have to live like that for the shortest time. Maybe he does it so that they can teach us the marvel of their love. Long enough to appreciate them and learn from them, but not with too much time, so that the flawed human may outgrow them.

Tonight I will go to sleep, I will sleep from exhaustion of the days work and the nights tears and emotions. Tomorrow morning when we wake up Zoey might be the overgrown puppy she always has been,  or she might be gone. All I hope and pray, is that our merciful father is with her, every step of the way.

When the World forces you to make a judgement, prayer gives you the benefit of the doubt

There is this guy, that comes to the door everyday. Not a beggar and not homeless,  just someone trying to...make ends meet, for lack of a better phrase.  Day by day my mom makes him a sandwich,  and on the odd occasion succumbs to the  request of any loose change.

The reality is that our neighborhood, and avenue in particular, is thoroughfare for often less savoury pedestrian traffic.  There are a few regulars at the door, but this one in particular bothers me. Perhaps it's the way he is getting too comfortable with our dog, or the persistence of his 'visits', but with the already intimidating field across the road we are not to keen on visitors with 'regular' hours. 

It's not his jail tattoos, I come from the rough side of the tracks and melted zombie drawings don't scare me easily,  if anything I'm suprised that I don't have sympathy for the this mature ex-con who may have outgrown his ways but not his connections.

But day by day this man comes, and day by day he leaves with something.  

I yearn for electrical fencing and a gate with no intercom but that would be turning blessings away at the gate. Each time a stranger walks through those posts with more than what he or she came with, this home receives another blessing,  the type that comes with giving because you want to, and for no other reason. 

For every stranger that knocks on the door or rings the bell, a judgement must be made. Honour the request, honour the request within limits (ie a peanut butter sandwich versus a Polony sandwich), deny the request with hopes of no return. The weighing process in South Africa is complex, be nice and maybe they won't break in? Be mean and maybe they will get the picture and never come back. Or maybe they'll get angry and get even.

I've heard that I think too much - this might be true. 

But I have a solution to my turmoil; alas, answers can always be found in God's word. In Matthew 10:40-42, we learn that we will be rewarded for accepting those whom the Lord has sent. The only problem is, that we have no way of knowing who sent who. The Bible teaches us to be alert but the Lord himself tells us that I when I come be ready for me.

We don't know who God will send and we won't know when he will manifest flesh and knock on our door or ring our bell. All we know is that he has taught us to love everyone,  he has given us a spirit of giving,  he has taught us share what we have, and promised to be beside us every step of the way.

When we need to make a 'judgement' we can be sure of the following,  either God has sent you my way, or he will lead you out.  When in doubt pray, and God will lead the way.

http://youtu.be/YhfN0LHVUV4

When the wind blows

It's Sunday night, well, Monday morning 00:12 and I am where I usually am at this hour. Tonight is a little bit worse because the wind is blowing.

Sleep has been coming hard to me lately,  and on nights like these I incorporate the new world with the old, to help me find some peace and sleep. 

Our country is crime ridden and it disturbs me and I fear for the night that I wake up to a stranger in my house. But on these nights I log onto pinterest and search for key words and the little phrases I find do not only help me into the night, they often help me into the next day. 

I will start with the first and most practical scenario:

The method:

...and the rationale:

 

In our lives scripture can remind us about important things. Like that fact that worrying won't make anything better or make anything go away. Faith is our only option as Christ is our saviour if only we'd let it be.

The reality is that things will happen. But we need to remember that God loves us in ways that we cannot fathom and he has plans for every one of us.

At night we must sleep to give tomorrow our very best, as the day thereafter,  and the day after that.  

And then like clockwork the next morning we rise...

I am grateful to God for the gift of my life.
I will praise him, worship him, and give him thanks.

As I close my eyes tonight I will...

Goodnight World <3

Tongues in transmission

I am sitting in church and feeling much like I do in a restaurant: intoxicated by flavour but critical nonetheless.  An unusual post for the first for the year and the first for a while,  but here I am. 

An Anglican in Christ Embassy,  I can be expected to be feeling slightly out of place.  The fact that I am in the service on a mobile device,  and it's okay,  already speaks of world of difference. 

The service started with a prayer. A prayer interceded by no less than 1000 worshippers,  and led by a pastor in tongues. The instruction being,  join in tongues,  and if you do not pray in tongues yet, then do so in whichever language you feel comfortable in. Those are a lot of tongues. That is also a spectacular sight. I rarely see hundreds of people dropping their guards and praying wholeheartedly as if nothing else in this world exists. Amn admirable feat and unfortunately something I am unable to fully describe in words. I have probably already done it a great unjust. 

My concern is that I didn't feel that familiar cold sweat that I associate with the 'Great presence'. That matter I will reserve for another occasion. 

The word lasted for probably a good hour and fifteen minutes,  versus the Anglicans 15 minutes max. The main focus being to remember Lots wife, as well as several other little lessons.  As different as the experience was, and at some stages as condescending as his (the Nigerian pastor projected against the wall in the absence of the resident pastor) attitude was toward other doctrines,  his messages were of good quality and nature.  

I suppose that in the 41000 reported Christian denominations,  there is a place for everyone.  I should be promoting the structuralist Anglican church,  but while that structure is part of what I love,  who are we to try and take that away from anyone else through our judgements. All denominations that I have had the privilege to experience have substantiation for their doctrines,  all found in scripture and understanding (the Christ the mother ideology I came across on campus, admittedly was a bit daunting and largely out of context).  

Additionally,  we all wear different clothes as we were made unique,  we are to use our unique talents to worship God; should we not then allow our individual personalities to worship in the way that fulfills us most and brings us closer to God?

As I write this I'm chiding myself mentally,  what if the happy clappys are absolutely wrong and I get to the pearly gates one day and St Peter tells me that I am not wanted there on account of publishing and publicly condoning incorrect information and doctrines. Or what if we learn that our lifelong rituals were sucked out of somebodys thumb and that it was in fact the Word at its most raw, that was the correct way to receive it?

My puzzler is sore now,  so I will conclude with my usual belief,  I believe that my God is mighty enough (the girl next to me told me that I needed to be born again in order to enter the kingdom of heaven), to know who I am and what my will is. That the road of good intentions does not only lead to he

ll and that my Lord knows that as far as my beliefs may take me and my knowledge support me, I am a child of God to the best of my ability.