practising gratitude

After being under a dark cloud for a week or two, and feeling like life is hard and expensive and horrible, I set myself a challenge to name and meditate on 3 things I can give thanks for, over the next week.

[I did this on fcbk and several friends joined in with their own reasons to give thanks. It was wonderful to see and experience joyfulness and being thankful becoming easier as the week progressed.]


DAY 1: I'm thankful for
- a garden to tame and cultivate 

- my toddler having a long nap

- the heavenly mingled scents of freesia and jasmine from my mom's garden

DAY 2: Grateful for
- a new Botriver friend who was desperately ill now strong enough to walk around and keep a meal down. Thank You, Jehovah Rapha.

- functional internet

- the gentle reassuring companionship of dogs while I work at home.

DAY 3: I give thanks for
- some truly wonderful friends who's words have been like healing balm.

- for wriggly warm boyties in my bed at storytime

- clouds that eventually pass and that every morning we can start afresh













Day 4 of being mindful of the good around me :
- thankful for my two boys who are both such hilarious individuals. They make us laugh so much.
Since the very conscientious lady who sometimes cleans our house decided that our floors needed to be polished, our house has become a Charlie Chaplin style comedy. No one in this house walks - everyone charges around - and normally our floors have enough grit and grub to create some healthy traction, but now the sparkly clean well-waxed floor results in falling on bums with hilarious frequency. Our toddler is most confused by how often he collides with the floor now.

- thankful for my hub making an effort to be home in time for family supper together despite him having a very busy day.

- thankful for our 3 new chickens, and the wonderful construction of their hutch by "Odigie & Sons"








Day 5: I didn't get to my daily meditation on what I'm grateful for yesterday because Hurricane J made landfall in full force.  Having survived yesterday I'm...

- grateful for an older son to remind that even though J has snapped the top off every seedling I've planted "At least we don't we live on a faraway planet and those were the last plants EVER." True, M, we can always plant again.

- grateful that when J got hold of my pencil case while I was on the loo he chose to scribble all over the floor with pencil instead of permanent marker.
 
- grateful that J now knows that coffee mugs don't bounce and that no one cut their barefeet on the shards.
 
- grateful that J decided to wash his beloved Tedi (his one and only) just before bed and then wept for HOURS cos we wouldn't let him sleep with a wet teddy, because Tedi really needed a wash.
 
- grateful for all the opportunities to practise the fruits of Holy Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, SELF CONTROL, etc) and that my children didn't hear me swearing.

Hurricane toddler

Day 6: Easy gratitudes today
- Hugely thankful for the rain soaking our thirsty garden

- Thankful that talking things through slowly and carefully eventually sifts out the rot and brings sweetness
 
- Thankful that even although I'm a weepy mess every morning after dropping J at his new playschool, this morning he seemed very keen to be out the door, saying "Let's Go! Let's Go!"

- After the rain, a wisteria blossom emerged from a tangle of seemingly dead vines

Day 7: Thankful for
- a shift in my outlook
 
- God's faithfulness and patience with me.

- brand new baby figs bursting out on the figtree
 

Remembering Ed

A hole was ripped in the canopy of trees

And dazzling light flooded the space you once filled

In that light we saw our smallness, challenged by how well you had lived

And as the four strong oaks you planted gave testimony

To all you were, giving shade to so many

I realised how as a small child playing around the edges of conversations

Ideas exchanged between you, my parents and other beautiful revolutionaries

Had dropped like seeds into my thinking

Sowing a mind that values human brotherhood

Values that open-door kind of home I saw

A mind that follows the Maker as best as my clay-clod feet permit

Now looking at my child playing around the edges of my conversations

I pray I can follow in your slipstream, dear Godfather

That we may all, generation after generation, become that forest the prophet spoke of:

Oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, for the display of his splendour

(Isaiah 61:3)

please pray for me, again

The wait for my results was excruciatingly long, with furtive checking for results on the uni's website several times a day. Then yesterday I opened it up and there they were: a few little numbers that would reflect my efforts, my sleepless nights, my profoundly-felt absences from my child, my months and months of being ragged with juggling parenting, studies, church commitments and work. It had been a roller-coaster of a year.

The first split second glance assured me I had passed all my courses. Oh Frabjous day! *

As I inspected more closely, I worked out which assignments had contributed to each mark - each assignment handed in on time a small miracle in itself. As I called to mind all those assignments and portfolios I remembered how close to giving up I'd been at one point, being hopelessly behind in all my courses. I'd been weighing up which course I should drop so that I could at least focus on one course properly. I'd counted how many hours each assignment and each report would take, counted how many hours (yes hours, not days) I had left until my final portfolio had to be handed in, and realised there was no possible way of getting it all done, without cheating.

Breaking point.

I spent two days staggering around completely bleaked-out, feeling like it was insurmountable. I sent out some half-hearted requests to close friends to please pray for me, again, feeling like a lost cause, that friend who always needs support.


And then hope broke through!

My long-suffering husband and wonderful friends began praying, and light started penetrating my two-day-thick fog of despair. Like most spiritual warfare I've encountered, joy started bursting through in tiny but powerful rivulets - irrepressible songs looping through my mind until I had no choice but to sing them out, beautiful beaming smiles from strangers, my jasmine bush exploding with buds, looking up from my laptop at 4:30am and seeing the first shy blush of dawn - until suddenly I found strength and could imagine carrying on. I found I was able to pray again - all praying had ceased during the "fog" - and every time I mentioned my fear of not being able to complete all the work, the Still Small Voice whispered "Just do what you can, and I will do the rest."

Just doing what I can meant allowing myself to sleep a bit more so that I wasn't ragged with exhaustion and horrible to live with. Just doing what I can meant taking a brisk walk with my dogs and my son each afternoon, to release some stress. Just doing what I can meant being honest with my supervisor about how far behind I actually was, only to be amazed by her response, "Just do what you can."

Looking at my results I can hardly believe that I passed all the courses, and for the one course I was considering dropping in order to focus on the others, I got a distinction. This was not possible in my own strength. First hand experience of Jehovah's goodness, of His power made perfect in my weakness, of being lifted by the prayers of faithful friends.



* Jabberwocky reference - Lewis Carroll

'Everyone Matters'

Desmond Tutu seems so clear about God's take on homosexuality - i.e. that God loves everyone. period.  
   Or as Tutu says, "EVERYONE MATTERS!"

I love that clarity.
Having many wonderful gay friends, many who are God-lovers who also happen to be homosexuals, I find the church's complete slamming of homosexuality very hard to accept. 
The more modern or charismatic or "free" or pentecostal churches are particularly hardcore against homosexuality, but somehow they are fine with prosperity teaching and a whole host of  other cringe-worthy ideas that I think would have caused Jesus to start throwing tables around again.

So many times I've wondered what Jesus would do if He came back and visited our churches. Would He tell us we've got it all wrong, like he rebuked the religious leaders in his earth-lifetime?

What I've heard preached is that God loves the sinner but hates the sin. If followed to its logical conclusion, this teaching says that God is fine with homosexuals being homosexual provided they never act on it i.e. remain celibate, like the temple eunuchs did long ago. Although the eunuchs had the advantage of being castrated, so they couldn't act on their desires in the basic sense of the word.

This becomes a very complicated idea when the "sin" is as fundamental as the way a person chooses to form relationships and express love.

And then there are all the confusing scriptures about love:

1 John 4 vs 7 & 8
Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.

and a little further down in the same passage: 

1 John 4 v 18 -21

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us. Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.

My understanding of this is that fear, including homophobia, is not okay with God, and that we are called to love everyone. No exceptions. It's interesting the link the Word makes between fear and punishment, and how often Christians call homosexuality an abomination i.e. something to be damned, a thing which causes hatred.


Below is something not written by myself, but something which quite humorously asks the questions I've thought about often, relating to principles to live by, as set out in Leviticus.


On her radio show, Dr. Laura said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr. Schlesinger, written by a US man, and posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as quite informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can help.

Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your adoring fan,
   James M. Kauffman,

Ed.D. Professor Emeritus,
Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education University of Virginia

P.S. (It would be a damn shame if we couldn't own a Canadian.)

extra mile

I have been meditating on this for a few days now...

Matthew 5 v 40 - 42 
If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

So when the opportunity arose for a 'kindness experiment', I recognised it gladly.

Our UNISA practical group of 15 Social Work students were told we'd have no venue for our workshops during July due to scheduled renovations at UNISA's campus. When our supervisor asked us if any of us had access to a suitable venue I suddenly thought of our church, which is not used most weekdays. After discussing it with my hub, and the shepherd of our church, I contacted our UNISA supervisor and offered our church as a venue. She accepted, very relieved. I explained to her that our church would not charge, and that we were happy to support something as valuable for the community as the readying of social workers. She was surprised and insisted that she would try to get UNISA to pay us something. I smiled at her discomfort at receiving something for free: the experiment had begun.

Our church venue is humble - a simple shop that has a carpet, 70 chairs, a couple of loos, and a small kitchen area where we plug in our urn and store our tea cups.
You can't have church without tea.

We've beautified the church walls with photos of our church family, and various scriptures that hold a lot of meaning for us as a church. So inviting our study group and supervisor into that space was like inviting people I hardly know into my own house. I was asked questions about what its like to be a pastor's wife, what the name of our church means, what kind of worship we have and various other interesting conversations that I might never have had otherwise. What gave me great joy was to have Muslims, Agnostics, at least 1 Jew and Christians of all flavours, feeling comfortable in that space for 6 days of workshops.

Up until that point, the kindness hadn't cost me anything. It was "the church's" kindness.
I wanted to be part of the kindness so I decided to buy tea, coffee, sugar, milk, soap for the bathroom basins, loo rolls, air freshener and clean towels in the bathrooms - enough for 16 people for 3 days, and for 30 people for the other 3 days when our study group doubled.

Everyday, I turned on the urn to boil the water, and laid out the cups. On the first day, the group was not sure if it was okay to help themselves to tea and coffee. I assured them they were welcome to it, and they helped themselves. I was touched to see the group tidied up beautifully after themselves - washing their cups and packing away afterwards. I noticed that the supervisor had brought a bag of loo rolls in her basket on day 1, but she decided to take them back home with her.
The supervisor asked me if I was sure I wanted to make tea freely available, and that I should be careful that people don't take advantage of it. How many times has that same voice in my head kept me from showing random kindness?

On day 2, one fellow student who is a leader in his church in Saldanha, asked who was paying for the tea and coffee, and asked if he could contribute towards the expense. I said he was welcome to contribute, and left it at that. The next day he slipped R20 into my pocket.
On day 3, a student who is very involved in her church in Khayeliltsha, expressed annoyance at how everyone (ironically, including herself) was helping themselves to church supplies. I told her that our church was happy to provide a welcoming venue including tea and coffee, and that the church was not being taken advantage of. She seemed quite annoyed that I hadn't shared in her annoyance. She muttered something about "people think everything at church is for free".

On days 4, 5 and 6, our group doubled in size from 16 to 30 students in the workshops. The new students just fell in with what had already become the norm, of everyone helping themselves to tea and coffee at tea time. It was nice to see the students offering to make teas and coffees for their small groups, rather than each person just taking care of themselves. 1 Muslim student consistently brought her own little tupperware of tea and powdered milk everyday, making use only of our hot water.
On day 4, the whole big 2.5kg packet of sugar came to an end. I hadn't noticed (as I don't use sugar) until one of the students casually asked me where he could find some more sugar. I was surprised by my own curt reply: "In Pick n Pay".
He was a bit taken aback.

Clearly I was not finding being kind that easy.
Until this point I had been volunteering kindness. But now we'd reached a point in the experiment where I could put into practise, "If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles".
My first flourish of generosity now needed following through, and I was feeling the pinch of the cost.
It took me a few private moments in the loo listening to Holy Spirit, to gather myself and decide that I was still game to continue with the kindness experiment, and during the next break while everyone was outside enjoying the winter sunshine I popped over the road to Pick n Pay and topped up all the kitchen and bathroom supplies. I was surprised how happy it made me feel.

On Day 6, one of the students suggested that everyone give a contribution towards all the church's tea and coffee, and a cup was passed around. R144 in coins came back to me. I loved that this had been spontaneously given. Could this mean that generosity begets generosity?

Reflecting on the experiment I wondered if I'd have felt so positive if the class had not made a contribution towards the costs.
I think, well, I hope I would have been.
Being kind felt really powerful - there is no argument against it.
I'm not talking about lording it over people who feel indebted to you - that is far from kindness. I tried by all means to prevent any feeling of indebtedness by keeping the costs anonymous, and by hiding my generosity under the skirts of the church.
It just felt really wonderful to have something to share that was of use.
Perhaps this is what God is telling us in His sermon on the mount: that giving actually is better than receiving. Being generous is a joy in itself, whether it provokes generosity in someone else or not.

Lentil on beatitudes

I read my Lentil that bit where Jesus said to the crowd, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross daily, and follow me."

And asked Lentil what he thought Jesus was saying, and he replied:
Jesus wants us to be his friend, and also, "sharing is caring"  (Go Barney!)

From the mouths of babes...

I loved Lentil's focus on being unselfish rather than getting caught up in the hard debate of dying daily to our flesh, and surrendering all. Yes, that is necessary, but how we think about that can tie one up in guilt ropes. Do we ever really manage that?

However, focusing on being less selfish - that I can apply my heart and mind to. Kindness I can do. Its a way of living, of being, of engaging with others. Kindness is the ultimate religion.
I found beautiful synchronicity with the above passage and this morning's meditation on kindness, which links to my beloved beatitudes...

Matthew 5 v 7
Blessed are the merciful,  for they will be shown mercy.

So often kindness is what was requested by weary travelers throughout the long hard journey of the Old Testament. God's people were commended for kindness, and kindness as a quality was esteemed. Women who were known for kindness were sought out as suitable wives. That's something for me to chew on.

May it be that when I say to a young woman, “Please let down your jar that I may have a drink,” and she says, “Drink, and I’ll water your camels too”– let her be the one you have chosen for your servant Isaac. By this I will know that you have shown kindness to my master.’ (Genesis 24 v 14)

Kindness is going the extra mile.
  Giving more than just what is necessary.
If kindness can be my trademark, I'm sure people will experience God's love through me.

NOTE TO SELF: practise random acts of kindness