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. 

If music be the food of love, play on

The ministry of music is one like no other- it has the ability to turn us all into passionate, heart-wrenched converts. It transcends our mental barriers and Orthodox walls, and reaches right down into our souls with the use of our subconscious.

I have always loved the praise and worship services that came hand in hand with youth ministry,  and the way in which those moments made it feel as though God is so close, so close it makes your heart race and your skin tingle. While 'growing up' has created some distance from those events I have now taken to exploring my options at Musica and Cum books and have come to understand that seek and ye shall find.

The options are really quite plausible as you will find anything from Kirk Franklin and the Winans classic favourites to Hillsongs remakes of popular tracks that will take you back.

Cum books had an awesome disc up for listening (I will have to purchase that next time. I was busy birthday present shopping. Cum is a good place to find prezzies by the way!). The CD was alternative and provided the kind of listening that a younger crowd could and certainly would appreciate. The artists are Jesus Culture and the covers called 'Unstoppable Love', as it is indeed.

Musica will humour you with volumes and box sets that will have you grappling about trying to decide which to buy. I have recently purchased 2 volumes of '16 greats ', which turns out to be from the '90s; it is still under review. 

I've found that Music as a medium can be anything you need it to be. It can be soothing,  healing,  and even exhilarating. As human beings we forget that we thrive on emotion and miss out on the natural high that Music can bring. 

So keep your earphones on hand and learn to open that doorway to your soul.

Corpus Christi

The festival of Corpus Christi,  observed by many nations and also referred to as Corpus Domini,  Celebrates the holy Eucharist and the institution thereof in our church and in our lives.

This festival was only introduced to the Christian church in later years,  after Augustinian nun, St Juliana had a vision about the Eucharist and its reverence.

While the Eucharist and its importance is observed on Maundy Thursday,  in anticipation of Good Friday, St Juliana advocated a sacrament so precious deserved a celebration more fitting,  that the sombre atmosphere of holy week did not sufficiently celebrate the body and the blood and the dynamics around this heavenly sacrifice. To St Juliana, the Eucharist needed to be celebrated with joyful anticipation.

Looking at what this festival reminds us of, there are many, many lessons to be learnt. And as with everything else presented to us from the church,  the bride of Jesus, we may take from it was is suitable to our lives and current situation.

The three important points to take home,  this (and probably every) Corpus Christi :
The challenge of sacrifice
The reward of forgiveness
The joy of new life.

Happy Friday :-)

Hello again, World

Sjoe! In at last. Technical difficulties have kept me from here and now I'm stuck with proverbial cobwebs and metaphorical crickets.

I'm saddened really,  I missed Lent this year, and it is always Lent that brings me back here, but after a fair amount of hacking I am back- and in time for a festival no less!

Tomorrow is Corpus Christi, the Western Orthodox Churches celebration of the institution of the Eucharist- tomorrow we celebrate the body which is given for us, and the blood which is shed for us.

I will try and clean out some of these cobwebs and hopefully tomorrow I will.be able to give an article about Corpus Christi,  the reverence it deserves.

Stay safe - may the Good Lord be with you

This little light of mine... I'm gonna let it shine...

The December 8th entry in my little 'Moments with God' book, takes from Psalm 27vs1:
The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? The lord is the strong hold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid?

The author then goes further to touch on the battle of dark and light. Reminding us that the Pharisees believed that when there is a battle between dark and light, that dark would win. Also adding that there are churches who discourage involvement with sinners and who stay in their religious shelters and complain about the increasing evils of the world. Indeed as Jesus was not afraid of being around those who were 'unclean' we should also not be afraid. Jesus had no fear of sinners but with his overwhelming faith would and could heal them and help them in the name of is and our holy father.

Often in a society strewn with unjusts, we as overworked people avoid situations of controversy and and prefer to turn a blind eye. But as children of God we cannot do that, blind eyes and deaf ears are what has allowed our world to become what is. People to lazy to influence other people's thinking through their own behaviour or through the handling of a situation. We would rather avoid the annoyances than try to encourage a open minded, loving, courteous state of mind.

This week South Africa and the world mourns the passing of a great man. Madiba was not afraid to fight for a new world, a mind set, and the 'ideal for which he was prepared to die'. He made a difference perhaps more iconic than is fair to expect from everybody, we all excel in our own way, but he is an example to look toward when deciding small things that make a difference. My analogy? You know how good you feel when a stranger performs a gesture than makes you smile to yourself and think, 'there are still good people in this world'? Be that stranger from time to time. Small acts can change the world because small acts of kindness have a ripple effect.

Treat people well, with respect and confidence so that you may instill in them a standard by which they may not previously have thought hey had in them.

Madiba had lots of great quotes, which I am not going to use now (since its all over TV at the moment). It is Albert Einstein that I wish to quote:

Un-human

The chills I feel as I read the Argus today are not a result of the storm from which Cape Town recovers, but rather from what I read in the paper.

The article is about a society of normalised gender violence, our society of normalised gender violence. It touches on the stories of Bredasdorp's Anene Booysen as well as student Jyoti Singh Pandey, who was gang raped and murdered in a bus in India.

Way in on page 11 is where the story appears and there is little left to wonder. We want to ask all these questions, but we have asked then before. What makes people act so, un-human? I use the term 'un-human' because inhumane indicates some form of choice and I hope that any animal that could do the things that these people do are doing so without a choice. The decision to rape and slaughter cannot be the rational thinking of a creation of God...or can it? Another question! Gods role in all of this. Why God, we ask. Why would a God allow this? We can go back many posts ago to the story of the man in the barber shop, where the conclusion is that in this world everything only exists because we acknowledge its existence. But as happy as that story may end, I am sure we can go back in history and find instances where 'going to God' seems of no relevance, perhaps like when a baby is raped? (apologies for the tasteless example but there was a point to be made and I think you got the point).

What are we doing wrong? Why are our people suffering so? I think perhaps the human condition is the biggest problem. We are greedy, we want, we favour, we turn a blind eye, we are selfish. How do we turn away from this?

I'm not saying victims are partially responsible, nobody has any right to harm another human being, what I'm saying is that we are society. We need to step up. Small acts of selflessness can trigger a domino effect. We need to lead by example. There are all sorts of principles in place that we can use to do our bit.

John Miltons' on his blindness teaches us that we must use our God given talents to praise God. This is how we can make a difference, through the traits that God has instilled in us. The problem is that people are not always able to identify there own gifts. I have two perfect examples from just this weekend:
1. I was at the annual SACTWU springqueen pageant, a rather, Erm, drunken crowd and not the most reserved bunch either. A very drunk girl accidentally spat most if the energy drink that was in her mouth, into my face. Now, given the crowd around us, if it were anyone else she may have seen the bottom of the staircase at the top of which we stood, but instead I established how completely wasted she was, and encouraged that she find her friends so that she could get home safely and not with anyone...else. my gift: patience.
2. Sunday, road rage went horribly wrong when the occupants of two vehicles ended up in a full blown fight, complete with crowbars and beer bottles as weapons. It was late afternoon and most of the cars in the road were of the variety that would probably also not step down from a fight, but in this case, as outsiders, they were able to identity that there was a problem here, and like clockwork several people were out of there cars, fearlessly trying to stop a fight without thinking twice of their own safety. Their gifts: fearlessness, courage, faith, and possibly some stupidity. But you get my point.

We can use the gifts God gave us, the things on which we pride ourselves, to make a difference in a world we ruined. Yes its not us but it is our kind, man kind, who stood by and watched as a specie with the most developed thought processes committed the most senseless and profound acts of cruelty.
Just like MJ said, and just like Ghandi said (so it works whether you prefer black, white or Indian), it starts with the man in the mirror- be the change you want to see in the world.

Daddy's Day

Tonight I celebrate with others the birthday of the man who soon too, will be my dad. And as I was searching for a quote for one of the speeches tonight... I stumbled upon the poem below.

Perhaps at this point I should include a little disclaimer about the whole USA vs Middle east situation and that I wish to make no statement regarding that.

This poem just made me sad a bit..just a little bit. As for once I allowed myself to think about by own father. Who has been far away for the last 14 year's...but surely will be at my wedding.

Her hair was up in a ponytail
Her favorite dress tied with a bow
Today was Daddy's Day at school
And she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
If she went to school alone.
But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
Of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school,
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees,
A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
For everyone to meet
Children squirming impatently,
Anxious in their seats.
One by one the teacher called,
Each student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
For a man who wasn't there.
"Where's her daddy at?"
She heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one"
Another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
"Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offened her,
As she smiled up at her mom.
And looked back at her teacher,
Who told her to go on.
And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.
"My daddy couldn't be here,
Because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
Since this is such a special day.
And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy,
And how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories
He taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes,
and ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him,
I'm not standing here alone.
Cause my daddy's always with me
Even though we are apart.
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be in my heart."
With that, her little hand reached up,
and lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
Beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere in the crowd of
dads,
Her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back
down,
Staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.
"I love my daddy very much,
He's my shining star.
And if he could he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.
You see he was a fireman
And died just this past year.
When airplanes hit the towers
And taught Americans to fear.
But sometimes when I close my eyes,
It's like he never went away."
And then she closes her eyes,
And saw him there that day.
And to her mother's amazement,
She witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they say before them,
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
They saw him at her side.
"I know you're with me Daddy."
To the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
Of those once filled with doubt.
Not one in that room could explain it,
For each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
Was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.
And a child was blessed, if only for a
moment,
By the love of her shining bright star.
And given the gift of believing,
That heaven is never too far

- From the poem Daddy's Day, by Cheryl Costello-
Forshey

Don't judge

A 24 year old boy seeing out from
the train's window shouted...
"Dad, look the trees are going
behind!" dad smiled and a young
couple sitting nearby, looked at the
24 year old's childish behavior with
pity, suddenly he again exclaimed ...
"dad, look the clouds are running
with us !" the couple couldn't resist
and said to the old man... "why
don't
you take your son to a good
doctor?" the old man smiled and
said ... "i did and we are just
coming from the hospital, my son
was blind from birth, he
just got his eyes today..."
Every single person on the planet
has story.
"don't judge people before you truly
know them. the truth might surprise
you...
think before you say something...!!!

Just a little something found on facebook

Touching story
A poor boy who was begging from door to door to feed his hungry
stomach, decided he would ask for a meal at next house. However, he
lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of
a meal, he asked the a glass of water, the woman thought he looked
hungry, so she brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, &
then asked how much do I owe you? You don't owe me anything, she
replied. Mother has taught us never to accept pay for kindness. He
said, then I thank you from my heart. Years later, that young woman
became critically ill, the local doctors were battling because they
couldn't cure her, they finally sent her to the big city, where they called
specialists the study her rare illness. Dr. Kelly was called in for the
consultation, when he heard the name of the town where she came
from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately, he rose & went down
the hall of the hospital to her room. He recogni...zed her at once. He
went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save
her life.From that day, he gave special attention to that case. After a
long struggle, the battle was won! Dr. Kelly requested the business
office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then
wrote something on the bill. It was sent to her room, the woman feared
opening it, for she was sure it might take d rest of her life to pay for it
all. Finally she looked, & noticed something was written at the edge of
the note, paid in full with a glass of milk. Tears filled her eyes as she
immediately remembered. Every form of kindness u show doesn't
bounce, it reproduces itself. Not necessarily be4 your eyes, but it
always does. I've been kind 2 u by sharing this story with u. So, be
kind 2 share it with others. It is good 2 be good. Always be nice 4 it
always comes back 2 you.

I just don't get it...so I'll just share it

Below is a picture and post from the lucky Lucy foundation. I don't know what to say because I cannot fathom, cannot grasp what would cause human beings to behave so barbarically:

Memorial Wall
For at least more than 5 days mounting to 2 weeks, whoever you
are, you left this loyal, unknowing companion in hell aka Aandskof,
a place unchanged because perhaps the devil himself is there,
visible in the alcohol, drugs and gangsterism in the children who
find torturing and maiming animals as their means of
entertainment. Hadyn, burnt in a konka by a 3 year old, came from
here! And this 6 month old puppy, whom I named Mable was found
stuffed in by the braai side, lying in the dirty wet sand, suffering in
agony from horrendous injuries inflicted as a result of these
children pulling her teeth causing her gums to be ripped from the
bone and rotting away. You didn’t once think to pick up a phone /
walk to a welfare clinic / find a lift to a welfare to seek help if you
could no longer keep her. For all these days you left her in the
freezing rain and the howling wind– without any recognition for her
innocent loyalty. For the day you chose to do this you didn’t care
that she would go without water, food and love. For all those days
your “friends” who let you just dump her like that saying “they will
take her” walked past her, day-in-and-day out with a second
thought. She became, i guess, “a part of the scenery”. No one
blocked their ears to her cries of pain and you and your “friends”
didn’t even close your eyes to her immense suffering that lay
ahead. It was by chance that we found her. We have since got the
message out that what those children did and what you did, in no
uncertain terms, was a criminal offence and that we would be back
to take the matter further. Whoever you are just know that when I
picked her up with tenderness, she yelped in utter pain, her eyes
sunken so deep from lack of food or water or care, that they
couldn’t be seen even when lifting her eye lids. I believe she
couldn’t believe what she was feeling. The immediate surrender of
calmness when in my arms was if to say: “thank you for finding
me.” She seemed to have multiple fractures of the mouth and the
few wounds that I could see were probably wasting away as the
grains of sand blew into them and she couldn’t move or hide away.
Her mouth was so badly infected, it smelt like death. And you did
NOTHING but turn your back.
We will fight to the bitter end, as Mable tried doing for her life. We
were too late to save her, although we had hope, but when the
obvious signs we couldn’t see was only proven with a positive on a
Distemper test and there was nothing more we could do as she
slowly knew we tried but she can’t fight this, I had to bring a
prompt end to her pain with kind words and a gentle touch. But in
her name, will continue to wage this war against overpopulation,
cruelty and neglect. Against the lack of backbone, education,
empathy and compassion. Please don’t let Mable have died in
vain. Please, please, please help us carry on. Monday we are
commencing with our sterilizations and we need your help to do it,
the funds already raised for Mable will settle her vet bill, a total of
R4330 was raised and with the left over donations, we can do a
sterilization which costs R250 an animal so if you feel that Mable
serves a purpose and inspiration and the need to continue saving
more through Mass Sterilization and Education please consider still
donating in her name. Lastly, to all those in Aandskof, you can
run… but you cannot hide.
Banking details:
Lucky Lucy Foundation Nedbank
Account number 1020 247 967
Universal Branch Code 198765
Reference MABLE/your namre
*please remember to send proof of payment and your contact
details to hr@luckylucy.org
Thank You
To read more about DISTEMPER, please go to https://
www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=483625055044262&
set=a.483624415044326.1073741827.130391573700
947&type=3&theater

Am I Ok?

Am I Ok?

Last Wednesday Fthr Beverley from the Cape Town Diocese reminded me why I ranked him up there along with Russ Blassoples as influential spiritual leaders in the Anglican Church. While this mild-mannered but strong-willed old mans body is beginning to slow his sound mind never fails to enlighten.

I expect it is his realism that I relate to. He emphasised the uselessness of fasting if the withdrawal left you miserable and terrible to be around, along with other faith-related topics. But what quite stuck out for me was his stories of saints like Paul and Augustine who did not start out as saints- quite the opposite actually. Augustine had quite the taste for women and led a hedonistic lifestyle. When his mother prayed for his salvation, Augustine prayed "create in me a pure heart O Lord- just not now", and indeed he went on to become a great saint. I suppose what I take from this is that it is never too late to redeem oneself. Remembering that we are human and not without fault this is rather comforting.

I too find myself battling with human habits, such as vanity. As an example a problem I face is that I take pleasure in it whether I like to admit it or not. So when I pray "please Lord don't let me care about how my hair looks or how the world sees me", essentially I'm lying. I'm asking for something I don't really want which seeems to be defeating the purpose. The human state can be amended then, but where do we start without being hypocritical?

Tonight Fthr Moodely took the floor and also touched on humanity and its tendencies; by posing the question: Am I Ok?
Am I ok in the sense of spiritual well- being, is my heart ok? We all maintain our composure he noted, but God knows us intimately, he knows what's going on inside. Like swans; he used the metaphor. Gracefully floating on the water yet beneath the surface paddling frantically to stay afloat. A reflection of of what our lives are like. Perfect composure for the world to see while we quietly but frantically deal with internal battles. Fthr Moodeleys' solution to this is to let into your heart the one being that already knows what is going on inside it. A powerful prayer, a 'one-liner' he labelled it. Favoured by a colleague of his at St John's in Belleville: "Come into my heart O Lord, there is room for you in here". So then going back to the issue of vanity, perhaps we don't always pray for the right things.

Instead of negative prayers (take away my vanity) we should perhaps try positive prayers (give me the wisdom to appreciate what's really important).

Am I ok?

Answered with an Indian urban legend, Fthr Moodeley concluded:

In the old Indian villages there were always wise old men around to give advice and to answer questions. One day a little boy decided to try and trick an old wise man. He caught a little bird and, holding it behind his back, asked the old wise man if the bird was dead or alive. Very smart of this young boy knowing that if the old man said the bird is dead, he could present a living bird, but if the old man said alive, he could twist the birds neck with a simple movement and present a dead animal.
The wise old man answered simply: "The answer is in your hands"

The Cat in the Hat

"Now! Now! Have no fear.
Have no fear!" Said the cat.
"My tricks are not bad,"
Said the Cat in the Hat.

Out of Dr Suess's The Cat in the Hat I find the most unlikely metaphor: The cat always seems to be getting up to no-good but there's always an answer in the end. Everything seems a right mess halfway through and by the end of the story everything is sorted and the antics of that Cat makes sense at last.

Reminds me a bit of life I guess. The unexpected tosses our lives about completely and leave us confused and often devastated. So it may help to know that someone has a plan; and much like after the Cat dropped the cake and the rake and the nine other things that he was carrying on his Hat, it all got cleaned up with his little cleaning-mobile.

God often watches and maybe even helps us mess (if not to enthrall our lives then) to help us clean up and learn all the little lessons we were meant to learn in order to help us grow. As people and as faithful people. Experiences sometimes may tear us apart but they also help us become the people we were meant to be. 

We won't ever know what the future holds and our choices are made in faith: faith that things will happen as they should. But while we pray for guidance, surely He guides us, and eventually we will see things unfold in the best way possible. For now, here's some Dr Seuss wisdom:

A person 's a person, no matter how
small .
-- Dr . Seuss

Be who you are and say what you
feel because those who mind don ' t
matter and those who matter don ' t
mind .
-- Dr . Seuss

I have heard there are troubles of
more than one kind . Some come
from ahead and some come from
behind . But I 've bought a big bat .
I 'm all ready you see . Now my
troubles are going to have troubles
with me!
-- Dr . Seuss

And off course..

Don't cry because it's over. Smile
because it happened .
-- Dr . Seuss

The plight of the elderly

Something I found on Facebook...to think about the next time you want 'brush off' an elderly person..

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an
Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any
value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions,
They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff
that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man's sole bequest to
posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines
around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide
presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent,
poem.
And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the
author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!

Create in me a clean heart, O God...

Reitterated Fthr Moodley last night at the Ash Wednesday service at the Church of the Transfiguration in Bellville. Touching on my previous post, he mentioned that 'Lent' comes from an old English word meaning 'Spring', thus indicating a time to 'Spring-clean' our souls (Thank you uncle Colin for confirming my theory:)).

'A time to refresh our spirit' was the message to be taken from the sermon and no beating around the bush was to be had. 'Give up sinning for Lent' was what Fthr Moodeley suggested.

Additionally, Theo Hendricks, the new Rector at Transfig had preceded himself with a theme for this lent: "A Journey of Faith" is what this 40 days would be.

Combining the two we find a delicate mix but a challenge worth accepting nonetheless. The things that constitute sin in a Christians life often holds meaning and sentiment, or else living without sin would surely be easier than it is. But if we put our faith in a God that delivers us from evil surely we will find a path away from the sin that makes our souls dreary.

The Lenten season is about three things:
Fasting
Praying &
The giving of Alms.

Let's experience our fast differently this year by giving up sin (at least as far as possible). Take this opportunity to get rid of bad habits that hurt other people, such as smoking.

Pray. And do it earnestly. Find a space where you can pray and give yourself the opportunity to feel Gods presence and know that he is listening. Have faith in his Love and have faith in his plans. He has plans to prosper you remember? Sometimes we go into things blindly but just as his were the footprints in the sand, so will he be the light unto your path when you need it.

Give from deep inside. Give in a way that is mutually beneficial. If you are naturally shy, make someone's day a pleasant comment while at the same time allowing yourself to step out of your shell. Find a talent that you harbour but do not use, and use it to inspire someone!

May this Lenten season set the pace for the rest of 2013 and may we come out of it with a spirit renewed.

ps. Don't be afraid to love. The Love of God will guide you.

Ash Wednesday

Another Lenten season earmarks the beginning of the third year of this virtual space. Today I join you as we embark on another spiritual journey of repentance, sacrifice and faith as we are reminded of Jesus' journey with his cross- a journey that would end in death and be ressurected to life.

I was not drawn here because it is the eve of Ash Wednesday, I was drawn here because of emotional turmoil. Bursts of emotion is usually what drives us to the Lord is it not? Be it great joy or sorrow we as humans are generally, and unfortunately, steered to God by desperation rather than selflessness. It was then that I realised that it was in fact the seasonal anniversary of this blog. This left me with the realisation that for some reason, come this time of the year I am in an emotional state which leaves me needing to come back here for comfort.

This leaves me with 2 hypothesis:
1. God prepares us for this solemn time by hooking our crosses over our shoulders and saying 'walk' or
2. It takes us about a year to become heavy laden by our spiritual waste so that a new Lenten season is ready to receive us and give us that chance (again) that Chist paid so heavy a price for.

For now my theory is the former. As I find myself at emotional crossroads it is the divine presence that I miss. The presence that could be felt while singing praises at one of St Faiths praise and worship sessions. The wholesome feeling that overwhelmed you me. And then life got in the way.

We strive day by day to live a certain way that makes us happy, and in so doing are robbing ourselves of the things we forget are so important. Spiritual welfare aside, we fail to properly care forband maintain the relations in our lives all while battling with our own innate desire for self-discovery.

What I find most interesting is that the crosses we bear are usually our own doing or at least a cognitive reaction based on the action (or lack thereof) of others or ourselves. Constantly, the negative things we feel we have to deal with in our lives, were caused by our own action or inaction at some point in our lives. Therefore in carrying our crosses surely we should recognize that we should take some responsibility for it. Christ has already done what needed to be done. Whatever is left is our own doing.

Today is Ash Wednesday and today we look back at the year gone by, we count our blessing and cut our losses. Let's reflect on what was learnt and cast our burdens onto the Lord.

Happy Lent. May this time be blessed.

I am a Christian

Unsure where I found this originally, but came across it now and thought I should publish