Half-Formed Wish

Blog Round Up: Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus

2012-01-13T11:38:00.002+02:00

Interesting that this video has touched such a nerve (More than 4.5 million hits after 3 days). People are either loving or hating it!
What does it stir in you?

If the video link above doesn't work try this one: http://youtu.be/1IAhDGYlpqY

I wanted to find out what others were saying and found a few of these blogs thought provoking (just like the video I reserve comment cos I haven't made my mind up about it or them but read them and decide for yourself)

Heeere comes my rant about that i hate religion video - Blog by gospel musician Audrey Assad and favourited by Derek Webb on twitter a good place to start your blog journey
Why I hate religion but love jesus the smackdown A response from a Catholic viewpoint. Lighthearted in places and an interesting read.
Matt Tipton's blog Raises one of the best questions I've seen about this video: "Why does this resonate so much with young adults who are not connected to the church?"
Yourboyfriendsbestgirlfriend.com What I like about this one is the power of personal stories. She's taken her response to the video and turned it into a story of her life. Powerful stuff.
theamericanjesus.net A blog about why this blogger won't "like" this video on facebook. Fairly lengthy.
WhyI hate doctrine but love Jesus Thinks that the word "doctrine" might have been a better choice then religion in the controversial video but I wonder if the video would have got as many hits?
Lame Poetry, False Dichotomies, and Bad Theology Why this blogger thinks it's important to denounce this video

Have you read any interesting blogs about this video? Post them in the comments.

The Concert

2011-08-15T10:05:00.000+02:00

My mom sent me this the other day. It encouraged me so I thought I'd share it:

"When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing. Suddenly the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway piano on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the paino, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

At that moment, the great piano master, Paderewski, made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit. Keep playing." Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child and he added a running obligate.

Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic, "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful. The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit...Keep playing.""

Picture used with permission from freedigitalphotos.net. Salvatore Vuono's full portfolio can be viewed at: http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=659

Bullies, Absences and Respect

2011-07-24T18:12:00.002+02:00

The last 10 days or so saw quite an uproar over what is and what is not acceptable enough to say on facebook, to say as a Christian and in many ways who has the right to call those in leadership on things in their lives that might make them look less like Jesus to the world.

The long and short of the debate centred around a comment that Mark Driscoll posted on facebook, it was picked up by blogger, Rachel Held Evans, who decided to call him on it and invite others to do the same. This led to flurry of words and responses being tapped out all over the web and ultimately resulted in Mark Driscoll posting a vague apology (maybe response is a better word...) on his blog. The response was carefully worded and hidden about two thirds of the way into a long blog post (be honest who actually reads long posts these days?).

I don't really know Mark Driscoll or Rachel Held Evans. I've read some of what they've written, but that doesn't mean I know them, I only know what they choose to write about and how they choose to present themselves with words. The same goes for C.J. Mahaney. I haven't met him either but somewhere in the midst of reading all the damage the tongue (and social media) can do I found a post from C.J. Mahaney about why he is taking a leave of absence from pastoring his church:

Over the last few years some former pastors and leaders in Sovereign Grace have made charges against me and informed me about offenses they have with me as well as other leaders in Sovereign Grace. These charges are serious and they have been very grieving to read. These charges are not related to any immorality or financial impropriety, but this doesn’t minimize their serious nature, which include various expressions of pride, unentreatability, deceit, sinful judgment, and hypocrisy.

I couldn't help but contrast this response with that of Mark Driscoll's. I'm not saying Mark Driscoll should take a leave of absence, (obviously it took C.J. Mahaney a few years to come to this decision too). He could just have continued to hide all the sin in his life (like most of us do all the time) but instead C.J. chose to say, "I'm not perfect, I messed up, I'm sorry about it and I want God to make me a better person".

I can respect that.

I can relate to that.

It made me wonder how differently this all would have played out if Mark Driscoll had just been brave enough to say, "Sorry I messed up, I said something I shouldn't and I'll try not to do it again."

I could respect that.

I could relate to that.

After all I probably have to say something along those lines at least once a day!

Depression: Better Days are Coming

2011-07-23T16:11:00.000+02:00

I had a friend message me this week out of the blue. She asked me if she knew any books she could read. She said she was depressed and knew I'd made it through depression. She'd split up from her boyfriend, seen her vocational dreams come to an end and finally said, "Yes", to the doctor offering her antidepressants. She thought maybe I'd be able to give her a book that would give her hope.

I felt for her but also knew she could make it through. I know because I did. I also knew it wasn't easy, that climbing out of depression, isn't the same as heaving yourself out of the pool. It's a lot more like watching a cyclist pull themselves over Alpe d'Huez in the Tour de France. It requires everything you thought you had in you, and a dose or two of extra courage that you didn't know was in your heart or your muscles, and a whisper or two from the Jesus who likes you that you'll make it through this.

I was thinking about my friend yesterday when I read a tweet or three by Kirk Franklin. Always a source of wisdom yesterday he tweeted (while visiting South Africa) "when we're in our car we flip radio stations if we don't like what we hear. life doesn't work like that...we have to learn how to stick through bad situations until our favorite "song" comes on. don't give up. better days are coming right after this..."

Perhaps the greatest lessons I learnt through my own depression was that God was always there (even when I thought I was alone) and that if you stick something out you will find that things get better and you somehow you look around you one day and realize that you are at the top of the mountain and the view (and your future) look pretty good.

Picture used with permission from www.freedigitalphotos.net To view prozac1's full portfolio go to: http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=732

Birth Control and Motherhood and God

2011-07-19T11:37:00.000+02:00

When my husband and I got married a few months ago it was preceded by a number of decisions around birth control. I've known since I was a teen that I didn't want to take the Pill (various reasons ranging from doubt around whether it causes abortion to the fact that my body has functioned just fine without pumping hormones into it for 28 years lay behind this feeling). Fortunately, for me, I was planning to marry a man who completely supported my decision. So we decided against hormonal birth control and opted instead to use natural family planning (we signed up for classes and read about it like mad). We didn't want to become the butt of jokes about natural family planning and so far we're childless and hormone free and satisfied with our decision.

This meant that we've opted to do something no one else we know is doing. It also started a number of interesting conversations with friends about contraceptives. Some of whom are looking for alternatives to hormones and some who think we're making the biggest mistake of our lives. We've heard every response from: "Let me know how it works we might want to try it" to "You're crazy, you'll be pregnant in no time at all". It reached the point where I've started to think that many people think that pregnancy (and therefore children) are a disease rather than a blessing.

Which is why I found this blog by Rachel Jankovic so refreshing: http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/motherhood-is-a-calling-and-where-your-children-rank. She writes about how her hands might be full (with 5 children) but that they are full with good things. I thought she put my feelings after all the conversations I refered to above into words perfectly:

"The truth is that years ago, before this generation of mothers was even born, our society decided where children rank in the list of important things. When abortion was legalized, we wrote it into law.

Children rank way below college. Below world travel for sure. Below the ability to go out at night at your leisure. Below honing your body at the gym. Below any job you may have or hope to get. In fact, children rate below your desire to sit around and pick your toes, if that is what you want to do. Below everything. Children are the last thing you should ever spend your time doing.

...Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for."

I don't have children, one day I hope that God will bless us with them, but I've enough friends who've struggled to have children to know that it motherhood isn't guaranteed, I hope that when I do I'll remember to keep some perspective on the gift that God has given us in them and die to myself and give them the time they need.

Where do children rank for you?

Picture used with permission from http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/ To view Lisa McDonald's full portfolio go to:

http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=390

Freedom in Christ: Love others as you love yourself

2011-07-04T12:50:00.000+02:00

For in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love.

It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don't use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that's how freedom grows.

For everything we know about God's Word is summed up in a single sentence:

Love others as you love yourself. That's an act of true freedom.

(Galations 5: 6; 13-15 - The MESSAGE)

This is something that has really been challenging me lately. I'd love to hear your gut reactions to these verses...Here are a few of my thoughts:

1) God doesn't really care if we super religious (read: goes to church 52 weeks a year, studies the bible, tithes etc) or the least religious person on earth what he really wants is for us to live out our faith in him through loving others

2) God wants us to live in freedom (What does that mean to you? - This passage describes an act of true freedom as loving others as you love yourself) and to help others find freedom through loving them.

3) Is it really that simple?

The image was used with permission from freedigitalphotos.net and was taken from federico stevanin's portfolio

If only Christians were real

2011-06-30T16:27:00.000+02:00

Recently I asked a group of Christian Music consumers to name one thing they really wished the Christian music community owned. You know what their answer was?

AUTHENTICITY.

They said they wished that the private lives of their favourite South African gospel artists lined up with their public persona. Then they went on to joke about artists who have an alcohol problem or who take drugs or who treat their wives or husbands badly but then go out and perform with their hands raised to God. These fans simply wanted to know that what these artists sang was what they lived.

Last night, I went for dinner with some old friends and made a few new friends. One of these new friends works in monitoring and preserving the enviroment. We chatted for a while and then he gave us a hard time for putting our takeaways in plastic containers. I told him not to worry, I'd recycle them once I got home. And I meant it. My husband and I recycle paper, plastic and metals daily. His wife laughed at this point and said, although that although her husband teaches enviromentalism all day at work he doesn't practice it at home.

AUTHENTICITY.

It's one of the reasons I stopped going to church. I got sick of seeing the disconnection between what was said from the pulpit and what was lived out the rest of the week. I know in many ways it's the pot calling the kettle black. I long to live an authentic life but at the same time I know I fail like the environmentalist more than I'd like to admit. For instance, I love to speak about how we're all equal simply because God created us, and then this week I was short with some people just because I think I'm better than them. Maybe that cuts to the heart of what authenticity is though: Not being perfect just being honest.

AUTHENTICITY.

What does it mean to you?

Tithing: Would you like to have God's wallet?

2011-06-24T10:37:00.003+02:00

I got to work today (incidentally I also got paid today so was thinking about money) and found in my inbox a mail on tithing. This doesn't happen every day (fortunately) so I open it and found a note from a collegue asking me to read it and give her my opinion. She said, it was really long and hadn't read the whole thing (it is really long and I've read the whole thing. If you want to read the whole thing - 13 pages - go here)

It got me thinking about tithing again (I've posted about it before here so won't rehash what I said there) and wondering how ministries and churches can be so manipulatory when it comes to giving. The last paragraph especially struck me:

"Let me make this simple. We are at the end times. God is getting ready for a massive revival. That's going to take big bucks. Who do think he wants to fund this revival through? What does that mean about your banking account? Would you like to have God's wallet? Then you have to have God's heart. The word "give" in one form or another is found over 1276 times in the bible. Any questions?

Rev. 3:15 "I know thy works."

I don't know about you but that last line sounds a bit like a threat to me, "Tithe or else...God is going to get you!" To be fair some of the article was covered in grace. They said if you can only afford to tithe 3.76 % (that's taken directly from the article in case you're wondering) God will still bless you (what a relief!)

I think the first thing that worried me about this way of thinking is that it once again puts us in a position where we have to do something to earn God's favour/blessing/love or whatever Christianese word you want to give it. Whatever happened to unmerited favour? Whatever happened to God loving/blessing/favouring us just because he thinks we're the coolest thing he ever created?

Secondly, when did we start thinking that God needs something from us to do anything? Let alone, God needing our "big bucks" to make a massive revival happen...how small have we made God that he needs a bit of paper with a man or animal or building printed on it to do something in the world? I somehow don't think God needs tiny-small-invisible-me to bankroll his revival.

Thirdly, I already have God's wallet (and he has mine!) Everything I have is from him, belongs to him and needs to be given back to him.

I'd love to hear your thoughts (because mine are still forming and a little raw) so please add to the conversation...

The image was used with permission from freedigitalphotos.net and was taken from graur codrin's portfolio which you can find at: http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=982

Sin is selfishness

2011-06-19T08:32:00.001+02:00

Recently, I've been told the same thing from four, no five, different sources. Usually when I start to hear something over and over again, I sit up, I listen and I take it to God and ask, "Is this something you are trying to get me to pay attention to?"

This thing that I've been told over and over lately is that sin is selfishness.

This is how I think God is telling me to listen up:

One: In conversation with a collegue. He said: "Something I've been thinking about lately is that sin is basically selfishness..." I don't remember the rest of the conversation but I remember that line.

Two: Same collegue leant me a book called Unlearning and I found the author writing about the best definition of sin he has ever read was by a German theologian, Rienhold Neiburh. Guess what, the definition was that "sin" is "selfishness".

Three: My husband read me part of the text conversation he was having with a friend about how sin is selfishness. I told him it must be the latest fad thinking because lately I've been hearing that everywhere.

Four: My brother told me a story about a guy whose wedding he had just attended, a single dad, who invited a young boy and his mother (both of whom he hardly knew) to live in the second bedroom of his house until the mother got another job in another town. The young boy is still living with the single dad, his own son and his new wife. He feeds him, clothes him and sends him to school. It made me think how selfish my own life is. And I thought about that phrase again, "Sin is selfishness".

Five: I saw hip-hop artist Lecrae tweet: "Be careful when you find you're only thinking, praying, & living for yourself. A selfish lifestyle is a Satanic lifestyle."

And I finally started thinking maybe, just maybe, God is trying to say something to me? What is God trying to say to you? And how are you going to change your life because of the One who is calling you to be more like him? I'm still grappling with this question, I'd love to hear your answers...

Pastors and pharisees: You know my heart

2011-06-17T15:50:00.001+02:00

If there is one phrase that really bugs me that Christians love to use it is: "You know my heart..." It's normally used right after someone has shared something very unchristian as if it should somehow nullify all that has gone before it.

This past week I overheard two pastors doing business. Each pastor is trying to get ahead in the world of Christian celebrity. Their conversation made me feel physically sick for a number of reasons but it was the last part of their conversation that really made me want to regurgitate my breakfast. One pastor said, he might need the other to put in a little more work. The other replied,

"...but you know I've belt up quite a brand, you know the numbers I pull in and how successful I am. With everything that I've done, you should actually be thanking me for helping you out with this! You know my heart..."

"I know your heart brother..."

Um, really? There sat two pastors wheeling and dealing. Both trying to make a deal that would allow them to get more fame and fortune and then when it became to apparent that was actually what they were after, they threw in, "You know my heart". Really? Does that work? I would loved to have let them finish the phrase, "You know my heart..." because to me it sounded like their hearts were full of desires for recognition and remuneration. I wanted so bad to turn around and tell them, "God, knows your heart too, and I'm not sure he would like it..." but I bit my tongue.

This time.

Next time I might say this:

"I've had it with you! You're hopeless, you religion scholars, you Pharisees! Frauds! Your lives are roadblocks to God's kingdom. You refuse to enter, and won't let anyone else in either.

You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You go halfway around the world to make a convert, but once you get him you make him into a replica of yourselves, double-damned.

And what about this piece of trivia: 'If you shake hands on a promise, that's nothing; but if you raise your hand that God is your witness, that's serious'? What ridiculous hairsplitting! What difference does it make whether you shake hands or raise hands? A promise is a promise. God is present, watching and holding you to account regardless.

You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You keep meticulous account books, tithing on every nickel and dime you get, but on the meat of God's Law, things like fairness and compassion and commitment—the absolute basics!—you carelessly take it or leave it. Careful bookkeeping is commendable, but the basics are required. Do you have any idea how silly you look, writing a life story that's wrong from start to finish, nitpicking over commas and semicolons?

You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You burnish the surface of your cups and bowls so they sparkle in the sun, while the insides are maggoty with your greed and gluttony. Stupid Pharisee! Scour the insides, and then the gleaming surface will mean something.
You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You're like manicured grave plots, grass clipped and the flowers bright, but six feet down it's all rotting bones and worm-eaten flesh. People look at you and think you're saints, but beneath the skin you're total frauds.
You're hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You build granite tombs for your prophets and marble monuments for your saints. And you say that if you had lived in the days of your ancestors, no blood would have been on your hands. You protest too much! You're cut from the same cloth as those murderers, and daily add to the death count."

Okay, it's true, I'd only be quoting Jesus. Just read Matthew 23. Sometimes I wish I could be so eloquent! (The version quoted here is from The Message)

Christian Media: Who is she?

2011-06-17T15:04:00.000+02:00

This week I've spent a lot of time being brought face-to-face with what Christian media is and what Christian media could be. On the one hand, I heard Christian media described as a middle-aged, conservative white man who lives in a white picket fence world, drives a Merc, gives his wife money to shop overseas and uses a bible like a cowboy wields a gun.

Now I work in Christian media and when I heard that I breathed a sigh of relief that the focus group I was listening to wasn't describing the company I work for but the competition. When they described the company I worked for, they described it much the same way William P. Young, described God, in his book, In the Shack, as a middle-aged black woman. In this case, Christian media, was Mam' Albertina Sisulu. She was the kind of woman who was nurturing, trustworthy, lives out her beliefs on a daily basis who would let you smoke in front of her without making you feel judged. She is the kind of woman you would share your secrets with.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard that because I think Jesus is a lot more like the fictional woman the focus group described than the made up old man. I was glad that on some level the company I work for was putting across a Jesus who likes people rather than one who makes people feel judged. All of this personifying of Christian media got me thinking, if your ideal christian media had to knock on the door, and be invited in for coffee, who would you be sharing coffee with?

I'd love to hear your thoughts...

Who is God?

2011-06-04T00:05:00.004+02:00

Ever wondered who God is? Or struggled to explain him to someone (or even yourself). Turns out you're not alone. My husband recently started a blog asking that very question and inviting comments or questions from anyone.

This is what he says about why he started it: "We’ve been presented with different variations of God/Jesus. I struggle with that a lot. So I decided to start a blog. (That’s how we solve 21^st century problems – we start a blog)."

I think who we think God is changes from day to day. It changes because our perception of ourselves changes and this affects not only how we see other people but how we see God. I think that might be why there are so many names for God in the bible because often we describe God in terms of what we need him to be to us on that particular day. Today I think God is kinda like a puppy but you'll have to go check out the who is God blog to read more.

So join the conversation at: http://who-is-god.tumblr.com/

Time with God: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

2011-05-29T08:24:00.000+02:00

Up until last weekend I hadn't found a lot of time to spend with God.

I'd been busy.

I'd been distracted.

I'd been unsure where my bible was, where my journal was, where God was.

I wanted to spend time with God but I felt like in order to do so I had to find a lot of free time, sit with my bible, grab a pen and journal my heart out and then I'd find God. All those things seemed impossible. I've barely found time for my new husband in between work and conferences and chores and they only thing I knew for certain was that my bible and my journal are stuck in a box I've yet to find time to unpack. That God time was just seeming impossible.

Then I went to Beauty For Ashes last weekend and during the Q&A with the two speakers, Jennifer Rothschild and Lisa Welchel I was reminded of a simple way to connect with God. Lisa said that often she forgets that God likes it when we just go sit with him. She said, she often feels time with God means bibles and journals and worship CD's but that just sitting with him in silence saying here I am can be enough.

I thought about this and it made sense. My husband loves it when I am just "there". He loves it when I just come sit beside him. I don't have to say anything or hug him - just being present is enough. So I left the conference and gave it a try. I sat on my bed and told God I didn't have a lot to bring but I'm here and I'd like to spend time with him. Then I got a bar of nougat and just sat and watched the sunset with him. We connected. And I've been doing it a lot since. Sometimes for 1 minute or 5 minutes or half an hour. Sometimes while I'm washing the dishes or driving somewhere I've been saying, here I am God, I'm yours, let's hangout.

Left at the Altar - Kimberley Kennedy

2011-05-20T14:48:00.000+02:00

Kimberley Kennedy is the all-American girl with everything going for her. Her career is going places, her family supports her and she is wearing the ring of a very eligible bachelor on her finger. Then at her wedding rehearsal everything changes when her betrothed tells her that he can’t go through with the wedding after all. And understandably her world crumbles under the weight of his rejection. This book is her story of that day, the weeks that followed and the life that she found afterwards. It is also an offer to readers who have also felt the sting of rejection that life goes on, pain doesn’t last forever and that Jesus will meet you there.

As a TV producer, a few weeks away from marriage, this book did interest me. It has an appeal that is broader than just woman who’ve been left at an altar. If you’ve ever been rejected by a man or friends or family this book will provide you with the handles you need to try and find a new hope. I especially enjoyed the chapter where she spoke about building a new life story once the story you thought you were going to have has an unhappy ending. I’m definitely going to keep this book handy to give to friends who are struggling with rejection.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

One Day Without Shoes

2011-03-26T14:02:00.000+02:00

I don't know about you but in my cupboard at any given time I have at least 15 pairs of shoes. And I know that's probably a tenth of the number of shoes most women have in their cupboards. I admit, I'm not really a shoe person. I prefer slops and love the feel of grass beneath my feet. But at the end of the day I have a choice about whether or not I wear shoes or not. For a lot of kids it isn't a choice. In fact, in some countries like Ethiopia, children dream of owning their first pair of shoes.

So what, you might be thinking? What's the big deal if you don't have shoes? Well, 10 year old Maria from Gautemala might tell you that walking over mountainous and muddy terrain makes farming difficult, both physically and economically. Not only that when she's barefoot she's exposed to infection, intestinal worms, and cold weather illness.

And in certain regions of Ethiopia, wearing shoes and practicing good hygiene can prevent podoconiosis, a disease that causes swelling of the feet and legs due to prolonged exposure to irritant soil.

If you're still not convinced, wearing shoes can protect homeless kids from cutting their feet on glass and metal or exposing cuts to sewerage that litters many inner city streets.

Thinking you'd like to do something about it. If you live in Europe, the US or Australia, you can. Simply buy a pair of TOMS Shoes, if like me you live in Africa (where they don't ship or sell the shoes) you can join me on the 5th of April and go one day without shoes. Doing so might just create curiosity, conversation, action and change. Are you with me?

The value of a human: The thing Mam' Iris said that saddened me...

2011-03-18T10:46:00.000+02:00

I just had an encounter with Mam' Iris that has left me saddened. Mam' Iris (actually she goes by another name but I changed it for the purposes of this blog) is a wonderful, kind, friendly lady who comes through our offices everyday with a soft cloth and makes everything clean and bright and fresh again. She is no ordinary cleaning lady though. She wears her Sunday's best to work everyday and when you tell her how nice she looks, she laughs and says, at her age she has to do everything she can to look good. Which I don't think is true because she's beautiful and has a heart that beats twice as hard as most with love, compassion and goodness. Added to this she never minds us dirtying the steps she's just mopped, when I apologise, she says, "Don't worry Wendy, I'm not painting!"

I really love Mam' Iris and try to treat her the same way I do the rest of my team. If I give them a note of appreciation or offer them a chocolate or a kind word I try to do the same for Mam' Iris. In my eyes she is just as important to the successful working of our office as I am. Today, she came to wipe my desk down and I got up to move some books and files for her to make her job easier. She told me not to worry as she always does and I told her that I needed to move them anyway so she was actually helping me to do my job.

Then she said the thing that saddened me.

She said, "Wendy, you are the only white person I know who is always kind and respectful and loving towards me. And you are consistent about it."

I just said, "I'm sorry you haven't more people like me in that case..."

I never expected to hear her say what she said, to me Mam' Iris is valuable because God created her, because she exists she has value beyond measure, she has the same value as I do and former president Nelson Mandela has and Paris Hilton and the man on the street corner has. I wouldn't my mother disrespectfully (at least I try my hardest not too, I'm sure I've failed sometimes...) so why would I treat Mam' Iris any differently?

I know I'm not the only white person (or for that matter person because I'm more comfortable not using the colour of our earthsuits as a marker for personhood) who treats people who look differently with value but after Mam' Iris conversation with me I wished that there were more people of every language, colour, culture and age that treated people as if they were more valuable than anything else on earth.

Cartoon from: http://www.explodingdog.com

John Mark McMillan: God wants your heart, the whole nasty thing.

2011-03-14T08:39:00.000+02:00

"The ability to genuinely connect with a person’s heart and draw them into a real-time conversation with God seems to have become a dying art form."

- John Mark McMillan

This morning while researching for a script at work. I started reading John Mark McMillan's blog. If you have the time, and you haven't you should go read it, if you don't...I thought I'd reblog something I really enjoyed.

wear your heart on your sleeve

Originally posted on February 28, 2010 by johnmarkmcmillan on the promenade blog.

Folks, it’s time to write dangerous music. It’s time to take risks. It’s time to wear your heart on your sleeve, and sing about the things that actually matter to you. It’s time to bury the shackles of religious expectation and stop trying to put new cloths on the dead.

Forget about the correct usage of wording for one dang second and sing your heart. How can you “correct” the course of a boat that isn’t willing to acknowledge the waters it sails in?

Give me honesty before correctness. People can argue with me all day long about this and I won’t care, because honesty attracts God and it attracts people. And my two jobs are to love God and love people. Besides, you can never be “right” enough for God. “All our righteousness are like filthy rags” (Isa 64:6). If you want to know what God thinks of your ability to be correct then go ahead and look up the original Hebrew translation for “filthy rags”.

God wants your heart, the whole nasty thing.

Being a Green Christian

2011-03-08T15:52:00.000+02:00

Recently I was asked to write an article on green fashion for a magazine in the America. I took on the assignment finding it amusing that I was being asked to tell people what they should and shouldn't wear after all no one would really call me a fashion leader or a style queen. Anyway I spent a few weeks researching green fashion and became really intrigued about how what we wear can actually change the world (If you're interested in what I wrote check the article out here on pg 42 of the New Identity Spring Issue) or if you live in SA you can pick it up in the March 2011 issue of Vision magazine.

Since then I've been trying to buy only clothes that:
1) I really need
2) Are made of material produced in South Africa (that's where I live)
3) If the material isn't made here they're sewn here
4) From materials that naturally occuring in the environment

What I've learnt from this is that:
a) Most shops in SA stock clothes that are made locally if you take the time to fish out the tags
b) It's almost impossible to find locally made trousers or shorts that are eco-friendly and budget-friendly
c) Buying green means buying less which is kind to my budget!
d) Loving others can sometimes be displayed simply by the clothes you choose to buy

It hasn't been easy to be green. I must admit that I bought a pair of "Made in China" shorts in December but it has made me think more about how what I wear affects the people around me. And I've started to connect that creating an environment where more people can live good lives is part of loving others, which ultimately is part of worshipping God.

So read the articles and let me know what you think!

Help me change the world

2011-01-14T14:58:00.000+02:00

Okay, maybe not the world but the world of 250 people by building a well in their community. Every week, millions of women and their children walk more than 22 kilometers just to get water for their families. Most of this water is contaminated, but it's the only water they have. They take the chance of catching diseases like bilharzia and schistosomiasis (parasites) - with every sip. There's nothing they can do to change it but there is something we can do!

There are two ways to help out:

1. Sign up to run (or walk and limp in my case) the 10km Valentines Night Race or enter here

then Find 10 friends to sponsor you R100 (or R10 for each KM you complete)
Finish the 10k's
and then either have your friend pay their donation directly: http://mycharitywater.org/fortheloveofwater or collect the R1000 together and pay it one lump sum

2. You don't want to run but you'd like to give money anyway in which case you can do it at http://mycharitywater.org/fortheloveofwater (this takes you directly to my campaign page)

In case you're wondering if I'm going to take all your money and spend it on my wedding you'll be relieved to know that because of charity: water's unique model, 100% of all donations go directly to water projects, and each donation is "proved" when projects are complete we'll even get to see a google earth image of the well we build. My aim to raise $5000 (or approximately R35 000) in the next three months which will provide clean drinking water for 250 people.

I'm looking for 34 people who will say, "Yes, I want to do run 10K's and I'll find 10 people to sponsor me R100 to finish" because then we'll have reached our target. If you're willing to do that please comment below just so I can keep track of how much money we might raise. It's really not that hard to persuade people, I've got 4/4 people to agree to sponsor me R100 so far. Feel free to forward this email to anyone else who you think might run for the love of water.

Book 2/52: An Amish Love

2011-01-12T08:55:00.000+02:00

Just before Christmas some friends and I were joking about the genre of Christian Amish Romance so when I saw a trilogy by Beth Wiseman, Kathleen Fuller and Kelly Long was available on booksneeze I couldn't resist ordering it and making it book number 2 of my goal of 52 books for the year. I'd never actually read anything in the genre so thought this would be a good introduction. I was right.

Without giving too much away here's a brief summary of the stories in three novellas:

"A Marriage of the Heart" by Kelly Long: Rachel Yoder is tired of her Amish lifestyle and her domineering father's ways. When handsome Joseph Lambert comes back from the Englisch, she lies to force a marriage of convenience, providing the perfect means to escape her father's rule.

"Healing Hearts" by Beth Wiseman: Levina Lapp and her husband Naaman are alone for the first time in 30 years. When Naaman leaves one day, Levina wasn't expecting him to be gone a year. Now that he's back, will they be able to move beyond this estrangement and fall in love again?

"What the Heart Sees" by Kathleen Fuller: A tragic accident rocks a peaceful Amish community, leaving Ellie Chupp blinded and Christopher Bender's future shattered. But they find love and forgiveness in a place they least expect.

So did this novella turn me into a fan of amish romance novels? I don't think so but I did throughly enjoy reading each of the three stories. Living in South Africa I'm not paricularly familiar with the Amish way of life so this gave me an interesting insight. I did enjoy the fact that the book deals with relationships at all different stages from just meeting to what marraige is after the children have left the nest. I'd reccommend this book to anyone who just wants to escape the world for an hour or two but if you're looking for some challenging, though-provoking reading (or if you are male) you'd be better off leaving it on the shelf.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Book 1/52: The only road north

2011-01-04T09:55:00.001+02:00

Last year, a few of my friends wrote 100 lists of things they wanted to do in 2010. I gave it a skip but decided to give it a try this year. So far I’ve only thought of 23 things I want to do but number 6 on the list was to read 52 books. I love reading but never seem to find the time. I’m hoping this will give me the encouragement to read one a week. I’ve started strong, having read my first book, “The only road north” by Erik Mirandette.

It’s a book about a boy, his brother and 2 friends who decide to ride from Cape Town to Cairo. Then while spending their last two weeks vacationing in Cairo a bomb explodes and leaves all four badly injured. I won’t tell you more than that but I really enjoyed the honesty with which Eric wrote the book. He didn’t try and hide from hurt and pain and sorrow but spoke about it with honesty. It's a book about finding your purpose in life, following Jesus' footsteps and finding God when the "that-will-never-happen-me-moment" strikes.

One of the passages I found poignant finds Erik in hospital shortly after the bomb has exploded:
“As I drift through the impalpable grayness that separates life and death, I call out to God from the depth of my soul. I reach out for the slightest encouragement. I wait and I hope for an out-of-body experience, a divine encounter, a sign, any reason to believe that I am not fighting this battle alone. This is my darkest hour. All that I have is lost, all that I have is taken. If I have ever needed God, it is now.

I walk to the very edge of life and I peer into the darkness that lies beyond. I call out to its creator, to the God I had committed my life to.

My answer is this:

Empty silence.

In my moment of greatest need I am alone, forsaken, betrayed.”

It’s not every day you’ll read that in a Christian book. Or that you’ll even hear a Christian ask, “Is God really there?” Towards, the end of the book, Erik has a conversation with a friend about having bumped into a few Christians who fed him the same, old, worn Christian platitudes: “Wow! Look at you. You look great! Isn’t our God great? He is so merciful! You are a walking miracle!” I’ve heard similar words come out my own mouth. When did I forget that it’s okay to be real, okay to say, “This sucks” when something bad happens. In fact, that's sometimes exactly what someone needs to hear!

In the introduction, Erik says, “The last thing this world needs is another self-help or feel-good-faith book, seven simple steps to whatever. Just the thought makes my stomach turn. The truth is life is way too complex to be put in a box, labelled, and have the appropriate manual attached…for those of us who venture outside the cookie-cutter lives that many settle for, a superficial plastic faith with the corresponding instruction booklet will do nothing.” I couldn’t agree more!

Things I've been thinking...(Christian Marketing, Derek Webb, Jay-Z, Matthew Paul Turner & Self-importance)

2010-12-08T08:40:00.000+02:00

There have been a few things swimming around my head lately regarding this thing that we call christianity. So here goes my thoughts, (I'd love to hear what you've been thinking lately...)

The first thought has been sprouting from a tweet I read via Derek Webb, "The word "Christian" when applied to anything other than a human being is nothing but a marketing term." Ouch! I work in the "Christian" music industry and see every day just how true it is and how much it hurts all of us who love hanging out with Jesus. If "Christian" wasn't applied to anything that somebody wants to make a quick buck off, most gullible christians with, I think "Christian" might still manage to grasp the big C of "Little Christ" that it takes it's name from.

Then I read a blog the other day by Matthew Paul Turner about a big Christian leader (Mark Driscoll) who facebooked that he like Jay-Z. (You can read the blog here if you want: http://www.jesusneedsnewpr.net/mark-driscoll-jay-z-yo/). The gist of it was whether or not the way we walk with Jesus is consistent or do I say one thing sometimes to garner popular opinion (in this example, speak out against Avatar) but then embrace some other contradictory thing (in this case Jay-Z). I know I do, I think we all do, I think we do it without thinking, and I think we do it without thinking that the whole world might be watching (and waiting to judge). Living honestly can be tough (but oddly refreshing, Mark Driscoll seems a lot more human when he contradicts himself then when he just comes off as better than the rest of us).

Finally, a man walked into my office today with an air of self-importance, arrogance, self-righteousness (use whichever synonym you like you'll still be describing the same man). He wasn't the first man (he would call himself pastor or man of God) to walk into my office today with this air of "you-should-be-honoured-to-be-in-the presence-of-such-a-holy-man". I helped him out, and the people who came before him, and then I sat down and asked, "Really? Who do these people think they are?" Didn't even John the Baptist say (John 1:26-27 if you want to double check), "there comes someone after me whose sandal I am not worthy to untie?" Do they think they are greater than John the Baptist? Whatever happened to the attitude that God is greater and we are honoured to be called his children?

Those are my thoughts - what are yours?

To tithe or not to tithe - that is the question

2010-11-18T09:55:00.000+02:00

I don't go to church anymore. Well, not the kind of church that springs to mind when I type the word. I don't go to a building with a pastor and lifegroups and a preach and a pre-preach about how much blessing you will recieve if you give 10% of your salary. I used to go to a church like that but now I live with in a much more organic group of believers. We don't have formal meetings and we don't talk about God all the time but we do grapple with how to live as Christians a lot in a world where it often seems Churches are more intent on building business empires then pointing people to Jesus.

Since I don't go to Church anymore I've had to think about tithing. How it fits into Christian life and what God wants us to do with our money and our possessions. I figure since God actually wants our whole lives he wants 100% of our money and possessions too. Which can be come a little challenging when you realise that he doesn't want me just to give 10% of my (gross or nett) income away but he wants it all. Bye, new clothes every month, or fancy dinners out, since God can see other uses for it like clothing the poor or feeding the hungry (Ouch-even as I type this I know how far I have fallen).

For a while after I stopped going to church I would give some money away each month to various organisations I thought did good work with the poor. Then I started asking, "God, what do you want me to do with my money?" That's when things started getting a lot more interesting. These day's I don't give one lump sum to any organisation but I do find God encouraging me to be a lot more generous in my daily living. When I put a tip down for a waitress I'll feel him prodding me, telling me to give her a ridiculous sum or to buy diapers for a stranger in a supermarket or a meal for a homeless guy on the side of the street. These interactions with real people are a lot more valuable to me and my relationship with God then giving a sum of money (usually via EFT) to a group of people in a church who use 90% of it for lights, water and rent.

I'm not saying you should or shouldn't tithe but I would be interested to hear your experiences and what works for you.

Coming Clean - why do christians feel the need to look perfect?

2010-11-12T14:01:00.001+02:00

Recently I was in a Christian bookshop and I looked around at all the books encouraging Christians to be more happy or weigh-less or have less conflict. On all these book covers were smiley perfect people. To be honest it made me sick because I've been a Chrisitan for plus/minus 25 years and I'm not smiley, happy and perfect looking everyday. I don't look like people on the cover of magazines or books or in movies. At the moment I have two large pimples on my cheek and my hair probably needs to meet a hair drier and the list goes on. I wondered then whether Christian products would sell so well if they were more real?

While doing some research at work I stumbled across a really refreshing article by Nichole Nordeman. She started by saying,

"Two years ago, I landed on the cover of CCM for the first time by myself. I wore a dress “borrowed” from Neiman Marcus, that I’m pretty sure cost three times my current monthly mortgage. To put it simply…it was the quintessential Cinderella dress. It was everything I’ve dreamt of being since I was 11 years old and I flittered around in layer upon layer of that glorious shimmering, flowing, sweeping gown while the photographer snapped away. I had just been on this insanely stupid diet for months, so that I could squeeze myself into the Cinderella getup, but one minute in that dress and I knew that every shunned bagel had been worth it.

Hours later, the shoot ended and I regretfully pulled on my Old Navy cargo pants, hopped into my pumpkin, and headed home to my family where my 1-year-old son had decided to greet me with perhaps the most toxic diaper in the history of Huggies. Needless to say, the clock had struck midnight.

Awhile back, I asked CCM if I could write this story. I felt…still feel…uneasy about that photo shoot princess moment. Not because there’s anything wrong with feeling momentarily flawless…but because that photo and many like it, in no way represent my real life. I feel rather nauseous when I consider the young girl who sees that photo and has no idea that it took 5 hours and an entire team of makeup artists and stylists to make me look like a princess. She also has no idea that even after all that, somebody sat at a computer (with my enthusiastic blessing) and point and clicked away my acne scars, my 35 year old wrinkles and the roll of flesh around my middle that makes me look like I am perpetually stuck in my 2nd trimester."

Working in the christian music industry her article was honest and very challenging. For example, Sara Groves paraphrased John Fischer, “If Moses came down the mountain and found a statue of himself, would he have been so quick to burn it?’ In other words, if it was my picture on the cover of all those books and CD's would I think they're so fake? Nichole interviewed 13 other gospel artists including Chris Tomlin, Natalie Grant, Bebo Norman. Although the article was written in 2007 it's still relevant.

If you have the time, read the whole article here:

http://www.nicholenordeman.com/article.aspx?id=528407

Domestic Violence: Can Jesus Love Him?

2010-11-08T11:56:00.000+02:00

Think of the most obnoxious, mean, horrible man you know. Come on, you can do it. You know the man that you will walk to the other side of the mall to avoid? Think of the man you know, who drinks too much, yells too much and hits too much. Think of THAT man and you’re probably thinking of my neighbour.

Last night, he was verbally, if not physically abusing his girlfriend (again). He was screaming about missing car keys, swearing and yelling like he had just stepped out of Pulp Fiction a decade or two late. It was noisy and loud and adrenaline coursed through my bones like he was in my house. If I was in hers, I would have grabbed his keys and made a beeline for the door, it sounds like she hid his keys. He stopped yelling but you could hear him speaking for the next hour and a half, sounding like a radio, except that a radio actually has to stop for jingles and the news. He just droned on and on.

I was praying. Sometimes praying for peace and an end to the strife like a proper Christian should and other times just praying that God would shut his mouth like a lion in Daniel’s den. A friend phoned him at some point and wanted him to go pick him up. I prayed that he would. You see I’m not a great Christian, I seek my own comfort, more than I seek the good of others.

The guy downstairs was obviously smashed, it took him 20 minutes to get directions to a friend, (I got them the first time he repeated them…take the N1 south, turn right…). I could have gone and fetched his friend in less time then it took him to understand directions. To be honest, when he hung up the phone, I wanted the most depraved man I know to go fetch his friend and never come back. I thought, he might die in a car accident being that drunk and that angry, but I didn’t care, I just wanted it to end. I felt no love for the man with verbal diarrhoea at 2:00 in the morning.

BUT GOD DID.

And that completely blew my mind! While I was thinking that my neighbour could meet his end in a twisted piece of metal on the side of the road, God was thinking, ‘Hide the keys, hide the keys! He’s not ready to meet me yet! I love him so much…and he doesn’t know me”. I’m pretty sure the only other person (if you count God as a person) in the world who likes him, let alone loves him - his girlfriend - hid the keys*. While I was searching for earplugs to end the “Where are my keys?” rant God told me that he loved this guy.

What!?

I don’t know why God would love HIM. I don’t know how. I mean, someone like me is easy to love: I try to follow the rules. I try to love God back. I try to be good. I’m not perfect, I sin, I mess up, but at least I don’t beat defenceless people. God has to like that about me (probably doesn’t like the pride and arrogance though…) I guess, I’m trying to say that I get why God loves me but I don’t understand why God loves the most depraved, talkative man in the world (at least my world). That blows my mind.

The fact that God loves him makes Grace real to me. It tells me that there is nothing humans can do to go beyond the reach of his love. I know the bible says it, but sometimes I think, really God, really? I could do anything and you’d still love me? Last night, God told me it was true and he used the most obnoxious, mean, horrible, nasty, depraved piece of work (who God is absolutely crazy in love with the same way he is with me and you – mind blowing, right?) to do it.

When I woke up 6 hours later, the man was still talking, pausing only to take a breath and start again (can’t imagine what he was talking about could just hear the timbre of his voice rising and falling).

I asked God to shut him up.

But he didn’t.

And God reminded me that he still loves that guy.

And that blew my mind.

And God told me that he still loves me

(even though I wish people dead in the middle of the night).

AND THAT BLEW MY MIND!

*NB: I am in no way condoning domestic violence – physical, verbal, emotional or any other kind. If you are a victim of abuse I think you need to know that God loves with a mind blowing love as well! And I don’t believe he wants you stay in your situation. Visit http://www.saps.gov.za/crime_prevention/women/domestic_violence.htm or http://www.thehotline.org/. If you are an abuser then God wants you to change visit www.http://www.thehotline.org/ for some places that might be able to help you.

What Owl City Believes

2010-11-05T10:32:00.000+02:00

This week Owl City blogged (and remixed) one of my favourite songs, "In Christ Alone". Here's why, in his words:

My Hope Is Found

"I was up late last night and decided to record a “cover song” of sorts.
Not for anything special, just for fun.

I’m twenty four years old, yet something about this song makes me bawl like a baby. The way the melodies and lyrics swirl together is so poignant and beautiful. If I were to count on one hand, the number of songs that have ever deeply moved me, this one would take the cake. Last night I probably spent more time actually crying at the piano than I did recording it. Such are the secret confessions of a shy boy from Minnesota.

Entitled In Christ Alone, written by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend.

In Christ alone, my hope is found 

He is my light, my strength, my song 

This cornerstone, this solid ground 

Firm through the fiercest drought and storm 

What heights of love, what depths of peace 

When fears are stilled, when strivings cease 

My comforter, my all-in-all 

Here in the love of Christ I stand

There in the ground His body lay 

Light of the world by darkness slain 

Then bursting forth in glorious day 

Up from the grave He rose again!

And as He stands in victory 

Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me

For I am His and He is mine 

Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death

This is the power of Christ in me 

From life’s first cry to final breath 

Jesus commands my destiny 

No power of hell, no scheme of man

Can ever pluck me from His hand

Till He returns or calls me home 

Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand

As I’m so often reminded what a priceless gift my life is, I ache with everything in me to make it count, so that when I finally cross the finish line, I’ll hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

To me, there is no greater reward.

Of course, all of this weighs heavily on the spiritual scale, so allow me to be completely honest and say none of it is intended to be “crammed down the throat,” if you will. That is not my intention. This is what I wholeheartedly believe, and to that belief, I remain steadfast until He returns or calls me home.

One thing is certain:

When He comes for His own, He will have no trouble recognizing me… because my banner will be clear."

If you'd like to hear Owl City's version please go to: http://owlcityblog.com/2010/10/25/my-hope-is-found/

What does Jesus think?

2010-10-29T09:18:00.000+02:00

There’s a guy in my office who works with a guy called Jesus. Off and on through out the day you’ll hear him say on the phone. I’ll speak to Jesus about it and then get back to you.

I love that!

This guy is far from being a Christian but through out the day I hear him say, “I’ll let you know what Jesus thinks!”

I love that!

And it challenges me because I’d like to have that kind of relationship with Jesus, (the Jesus who died and rose again for us, not the Jesus who works with the guy in the office). I’d love it to be that easy and acceptable to just tell someone, “I’ll let you know what Jesus thinks…” and for them not to raise their eyebrows or think religious freak. And I wish that I was that in tune with Jesus that before I did anything I thought let me check what Jesus thinks.

Beyond Opinion - Ravi Zacharias

2010-10-19T18:04:00.000+02:00

I've been thinking a lot about good questions about faith lately. I still haven't quite figured what good questions look like or sound like, I'm not sure if they sound honest or whether good questions challenge us to move forward in something. Not really sure, I'd love to hear your ideas however in the meantime I've been reading some good answers in a book sent to me by booksneeze by Ravi Zacharias. Well, actually not by him, but edited by him, nevertheless I enjoyed the book.

The book’s contributors provide answers to manyquestions you (at least I have had) about atheism, Islam, Eastern religions andScience. Not to mention a great chapter on the challenges of evil and sufferingwhich may help answer the some, good, honest questions like, “Why does mybrother suffer from a chronic incurable disease?”

I found each chapter challenging and interestingbut did find the topics a bit heavy for light afternoon or evening reading. Sokept it for moments when I wanted to read something a little challenging. However,if you are looking for good biblical answers to some questions you might begrappling with, you may find them here.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com <http://BookSneeze.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Questions and Answers about Christianity

2010-10-18T12:30:00.000+02:00

On Saturday night my boyfriend and I decided to brave the world of organised religion and attend a Q&A session with John Piper and Conrad Mbewe. We had been told we'd really enjoy it and honestly, I was in the mood to be challenged, and to have my assumptions about Christianity challenged, so off we went and warmed seats in the back row.

The first question was one of those that interviewers ask to get their guests comfortable. A simple what does a day in the life of John Piper and Conrad Mbewe look like. The second question was something about whether or not Jesus did in fact descend into hell or not after being crucified on the cross to which I almost jumped up and clapped when John Piper said that, honestly, if this is the biggest question your congregation have you should just tell them not to worry about it - it doesn't really matter.

In fact, John Piper and Conrad Mbewe's answers throughout were great: good, sound biblical advice. I was just saddened (and bored) by the questions: "Should Christians Date?...Yawn...How should Godly parents go about bringing up Godly Children?...Yawn..." Really? Are these the best questions a 1000 or so Christians could come up with? I kept wanting to join with Ravi Zacharias (and I'm sure God) and say, "Let my people think!" Almost every single one of the questions that were asked could have been answered if the person just took a little time to examine their bible and talk to God. I left there (I must admit early) thinking, whatever happened to thinking Christians? When did we stop asking good questions? Any ideas?

I am a Coca-Cola Christian

2010-09-29T11:15:00.000+02:00

*GUEST POST BY XYLON VAN EYCK*

This morning I turned the radio on and there was a discussion about church and tithing. A caller phoned in and conveyed her opinion to the host and the audience. Afterwards the host responded with something and the caller said, “but I am an Anglican, I am a Christian, an Anglican”. I can’t remember anything else from the broadcast except her statement and how proud we are to announce what brand of Christian we are: "I am a Catholic", "I am an Anglican", "I am born again and we have drums at our church".

I often wonder what God thinks about all this. When he listens in, what does he see? Does he choose one denomination that is closer to the truth than the next? I think not. Please correct me if I am wrong. I think he doesn’t, because he doesn’t even see denominations. He sees individuals, he sees hearts. So saying, "I am a Christian, I am an Anglican" bears no weight in the accreditation of belonging to the church.

A friend recently said to me the charismatic’s have got it wrong and his movement, the fundamentalists, have got it right. I asked him if he was smoking the good stuff because I wanted some. They have got it right? It’s an arrogance exacerbated by many Christian’s across the world that I believe is born out of an insecurity that one little thing we believe about Christianity could be wrong. In my very limited understanding of the beautiful God we live and love with, and Jesus who came to make things more clear for us, it’s my understanding that God sees and judges a heart. Not your denomination, not what you say you believe but what your intentions are. Please, again, correct me if I’m wrong.

Why are Christians so fake?

2010-09-15T14:23:00.000+02:00

This past week I interviewed a band. One of the questions was: What music are you listening to at the moment? Pretty standard question, no curve balls but it made me shake my head in wonder. The band in question were Christian and there first repsonse was: "Does it have to be Christian music?" When I said, no, just whatever you are listening to at the moment they proceeded to rattle off a long list of secular artists with a smattering of Christian artists thrown in.

There response to the question, Does it have to be Christian? made me think about how often as Christians we try to present a "Christian" version of us to the world rather than just being ourselves. These guys were cool. They were fun, lighthearted and full of joy. I've no doubt they know Jesus and spend hours sitting and listening to music, with him present. So why when I asked the question, "What music do you listen to?" Did they feel the need to "Christianise" their answers, or appear holy?

Any ideas why Christians so often struggle to just be themselves?

What a Christian is...

2010-09-01T09:31:00.000+02:00

Lately at my work I've been dealing a lot with Christians who think that they are somebody special. I've had Christians ask to stay in 5 star accommodation, fly business class and had complaints about there being no 2-ply toilet paper in a public bathroom. When I haven't felt like tearing my hair out (or from time to time their hair out...) it has made me wonder about how so many of us Christians have forgotten what it looks like to be a Christian.

Some where along the line it seems to me that a lot (not all Christians) think that the world (and especially the Church and Christian organisations) owe them something. Rather than remembering that actually we (that would be Christians) are here to be like Jesus. Jesus never put himself on a pedestal or demanded things. In fact Matthew 20:28 says, "the son of man did not come to be served but to serve..." Wow! Imagine if Christians actually lived that way daily instead of just paying lip service to it on a Sunday when we do our Church duty but then forgetting it the rest of the week.

This isn't just about being a servant leader, this is about having a servant heart. It's about being prepared to serve even when you know no one is watching. Being prepared to put your own rights below those of others. It will definitely be hard, I know because I just had an opportunity to serve, to put someone before myself and instead I got mad and felt annoyed that someone had interrupted day. But I know I want to serve better. It probably won't be pleasant, or easy but it will be loving and kind. Things that Jesus was...things that I want to be...things that I wish characterised Christians more.

The Mystery of Grief

2010-08-27T11:43:00.000+02:00

Grief is a mysterious thing. You never know when it is going to creep up on you or whether you’ll laugh or cry when it does. A few years ago, my brother’s best-friend Stephen died. He was tall and dark and funny. I thought, I saw him the other day, standing by a broken down car. I came round a corner and I saw Stephen. I started to smile. Then I realised it couldn’t be Stephen, because he was dead. I burst into tears, while I gripped the steering wheel, and let grief come.

I do not pretend to understand death. I cannot tell why it takes some early and leaves others on earth in pain and distress. I do not know what to say at funerals or to grieving parents, children, siblings and friends. How do you answer the question: “How are you?” at the funeral of someone you love. I do not know. I know I am pretty bad at it. Nobody wants to be there - yet we want, no, we need the feeling of shared grief, the feeling that we are doing something to help carry the pain and emptiness.

There is the weight of eternity in the presence of grief, the gravity that life is short and fleeting, and within grasp of the living. Perhaps that is why I spend so much of my life struggling to divert the gaze of death. I nestle my apprehension of death in the word “safety” - it has a fashionable ring - fear does not reverberate off it loudly. So I wear my seatbelt in the car, and swim where there are lifeguards and shark nets. I do not walk alone at night or give lifts to strangers. I scratch carcinogenic charcoal off blackened toast and wear SPF 40. I protect my life and diminish the living of it.

The crazy thing is I know that death comes to each of us. I cannot avoid it, outrun it, or outlive it with goodness. Not one living, breathing person knows how to pull a Houdini and escape death. The Christian faith teaches that once a man did know how to defeat death. In fact it records how this man, Jesus, not only conquered death and returned to life but also offered life after death to anyone: the Lamborghini drivers and those who walk everywhere; the supermarket owner and the person who steals an apple for lunch. Jesus offered an invitation of endless life to anyone who believes he is capable of saving them from death.

I believe Jesus can make me live after death. I think he can do this because Jesus was a man who did not hedge his bets. He did not try to avoid death in all the ways I do. He did not play it safe or eat only organic foods. He did not follow the rules, he realised regulations do not always prolong life, in fact he went against religious advice to save his soul. He did not throw around words like eternity and heaven; he offered them to broken people, he spoke with compassion to people without hope. People like me.

Jesus also spoke about a massive party he would have one day when I get to heaven. I do not really like parties. I do not like the music that prevents conversation; or the dancing that makes me look like I am the daughter of an automated object. In fact, in many ways a massive party does not sound very good to me. Except that I think Jesus likes me, so I imagine he will throw a dinner to welcome me home. A dinner, where I will not have to dance, but where there will be good food, laughter and great conversation.

One day this Jesus, the Jesus that likes me, will come for me, and gently ask me to dine with him in heaven. And I will go because each of us must die. I will go because so many will be waiting for me to join them. I will go because Jesus wants me to be with him; and I want to be with him. I cannot escape death nor do I want to. I know that death will come to me regardless of my circumstances. My body is mortal: one day I will breathe my last gulp of air just as I inhaled the first.

Sometimes I do not accept death with such grace. I find myself angry about death quite a lot. I wonder why the young die, why the healthy die, why the ill hang on so long and why evil men thrive. I am angry with the pain that I see in the residue of death. I experience anger when I fail to remember that God is still in control even though my world is spinning, teetering…collapsing. I feel anger when I think my God is spiteful, when I think he is out to get me, when I forget the spiteful God is also Jesus who likes me. I feel angry when I forget that death is really just an invitation to a much better life: a life where there is no need for tears or tombstones or ambulance sirens.

But before I get to heaven I have to learn how to say good-bye to the people I thought would be laughing at my grandkids first stumbling steps. In the mean time I have to learn what to do when I drive around a corner and grief finds me. I haven’t always known what to do when grief sneaks up on me; now I cry, and sometimes, I get angry. I share stories about those I have loved who are now heavenly men and women. I laugh at the good times we shared. And I look at the stars: the stars God strung just to astonish us, the stars he named to reveal his bigness, his majesty and his sovereignty.

I look at the stars because they remind me who God is. They tell me that he is not spiteful but awe-inspiring. I remember that he is both the man who wept for his friend and the God who breathes light out his mouth. The stars expose how big God is and how tiny I am. I consider the stars and remember that they only burn so brightly because they are dying. As each star burns out and shoots across the sky, I am reminded that in each death I grieve, there is beauty and mystery, if I only choose to see it.

"A luta continua, vitória é certa"

2010-08-06T09:45:00.000+02:00

GUEST POST BY TREVOR HARBOTTLE

I have been listening to a song by John Ellis called ‘A Luta Continua’. Last night I wondered aloud what that meant. Xylon my housemate and presenter on a Gospel television show in South Africa, having interviewed John Ellis a couple of weeks ago, authoritatively told me it means ‘the struggle continues’. I liked that. I knew the lyrics resonated with me (He sings about needing to struggle to see TRUE liberation in South Africa, to see TRUE liberation from a religious system, and to see TRUE liberation in people’s lives). So I looked into the origins of the saying and discovered that the full saying is:

"A luta continua, vitória é certa" meaning, "The struggle continues, victory is certain"

I also discovered that it was first popularised by FRELIMO during the Mozambican war of independence and later in South Africa when Miriam Makeba sang ‘a luta continua’ and so it became part of the annals of South Africa’s struggle culture.

So how does this all relate to Jesus or God or the bible. I’m not totally sure. But I know that we are in a constant struggle everyday. Some-day’s it is a struggle to breathe; others a struggle to have joy; others a struggle to see any purpose, sometimes as I have experienced the last two months-a struggle to walk straight with a gammy leg. I love the fact that Jesus promised us all ABUNDANT LIFE but I sometimes wonder where that is, don’t you? I don’t see that in the poor woman begging on the street corner and I don’t see that in the misery that lines the eyelids of some my students and I don’t see it in my own life when I’m physically and emotionally drained at the end of the day.

The struggle continues, victory is certain. For those of us who believe in and relate to Jesus we have an assurance of victory (sometimes in our heads, sometimes in our hearts, sometimes in our doubts). But that victory is easily missed because the struggle is not over. We have to struggle to find that life and hope and joy and love. We have to struggle to display that life and hope and joy and love. But it is worth struggling for because the life and hope and joy and love is found in the struggle. The victory is found when we desire and attempt and fail and persevere and continue to struggle to live the abundant life that is ours. The victory is there when we wrestle with Jesus, with how he operates in our lives and with how we operate in His. The victory is there when we lay down our lives to benefit those around us. The victory is there when we see the sunset and marvel in the pollution induced colours. The victory is there in the smell of freshly baked croissants. The victory is there... It is there... It is there...

And I think that is the essence what I am trying to say is: Victory is certain, Don’t give up, the struggle continues! Be brave, be courageous, for you will overcome. You are more than conquers!

See John 10:10, Romans 8, Joshua 1:9, Romans 8:37 for some more encouragement. Or read the psalms. Or better yet, put aside the stress inducing task you are currently busy with and escape to a park and take 5 minutes to watch the birds and the trees and the people and the dogs. And then remind yourself:

"A luta continua, vitória é certa"

"The struggle continues, victory is certain"

To Wear Charity

2010-07-27T10:34:00.002+02:00

Sometimes you read something that you wish you had written yourself, that happened to me earlier today:

"In 2004, I left the streets of New York City for the shores of West Africa. I'd made my living for years in the big Apple promoting top nightclubs and fashion events, for the most part living selfishly and arrogantly. Desperately unhappy, I needed to change. Faced with spiritual bankruptcy, I wanted desperately to revive a lost Christian faith with action and asked the question: What would the opposite of my life look like?

I signed up for volunteer service aboard a floating hospital with a group called Mercy Ships, a humanitarian organization which offered free medical care in the world's poorest nations. Operating on surgery ships, they'd built a 25-year track record of astonishing results yet I'd never heard of them.

Top doctors and surgeons from all over the world left their practices and fancy lives to operate for free on thousands who had no access to medical care. I soon found the organization to be full of remarkable people. The chief medical officer was a surgeon who left Los Angeles to volunteer for two weeks - 23 years ago. He never looked or went back. I took the position of ship photojournalist, and immediately traveled to Africa. At first, being the Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's court felt strange. I traded my spacious midtown loft for a 150-square-foot cabin with bunk beds, roommates and cockroaches. Fancy restaurants were replaced by a mess hall feeding 400+ Army style. A prince in New York, now I was living in close community with 350 others. I felt like a pauper.

But once off the ship, I realized how good I really had it. In new surroundings, I was utterly astonished at the poverty that came into focus through my camera lens. Often through tears, I documented life and human suffering I'd thought unimaginable. In West Africa, I was a prince again. A king, in fact. A man with a bed and clean running water and food in my stomach.

I fell in love with Liberia - a country with no public electricity, running water or sewage - Spending time in a leper colony and many remote villages, I put a face to the world's 1.2 billion living in poverty. Those living on less than $365 a year - money I used to blow on a bottle of Grey Goose vodka at a fancy club. Before tip.

Our medical staff would hold patient intake "screenings" and thousands would wait in line to be seen, many afflicted with deformities even Clive Barker hadn't thought of. Enormous, suffocating tumors - cleft lips, faces eaten by bacteria from water-borne diseases. I learned many of these medical conditions also existed here in the west, but were taken care of - never allowed to progress. The amount of blind people without access to the 20-minute cataract surgery that could restore their sight astonished me - all part of this new world.

Over the next eight months, I met patients who taught me the meaning of courage. Many of them had been slowly suffocating to death for years and yet pressing on. Praying, hoping, surviving. It was an honor to photograph them. It was an honor to know them.

Charity.

For me, charity is practical. It's sometimes easy, more often inconvenient, but always necessary. It's the ability to use one's position of influence, relative wealth and power to affect lives for the better. charity is singular and achievable.

There's a biblical parable about a man beaten near death by robbers. He's stripped naked and lying roadside. Most people pass him by, but one man stops. He picks him up and bandages his wounds. He puts him on his horse and walks alongside until they reach an inn. He checks him in and throws down his Amex. "Whatever he needs until he gets better."

Because he could.

The dictionary defines charity as simply the act of giving voluntarily to those in need. It's taken from the word "caritas," or simply, love. In Colossians 3, the Bible instructs readers to "put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness."

Although I'm still not sure what that means, I love the idea. To wear charity."

-Scott Harrison (Founder of Charity Water)

I hope I can find a way to wear charity as well as Scott has!

Being Kind: the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain)

2010-07-20T11:35:00.000+02:00

I drive the same route home from work most days. I know I should probably vary my routine, change it to throw a stalker off but I don’t. At the first robots I turn right, then carry on straight, then left, then cross the stop street where the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain) stands, turn right, turn left, turn right, turn right again and then arrive at my home.

Some days though, I stop at the man who is always selling roses, and buy a dozen. Even if I don’t stop, we smile and wave at each other, (in fact he smiles and waves at everyone but I like to think it’s just for me), we’ve been doing this for years, 3 years actually: selling roses, buying roses, smiling, waving.

Yesterday I stopped at the stop street where the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain) stands and told him I’d like to buy some. I pulled off the road and proceeded to hunt for my wallet. I couldn’t find it. I hunted some more. Still no money to pay for the two dozen roses I wanted to buy. I told the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain) that I didn’t have the money, that I would stop and buy some tomorrow.

I expected him to walk away back to his spot by the stop street but he didn’t. He told me to take a bunch anyway and pay him tomorrow. I didn’t know what to say, just earlier that day I’d read a blog by Natalie Grant where she said, “Start being kind for no reason. Show compassion. Be patient. I promise you people will notice. And it just might be contagious.” I wondered if it was true. I thought it probably was but now the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain) was living it, I was noticing, and I was floored by his kindness.

If you had to ask me to tell you one thing which has really changed my view of God in the last year, I would tell you it’s realising that God is Kindness. You may think I’m not being very theologically sound here but I think I am. The bible says, “God is love” (1 John 4:8). The Bible also says, “love is kind…” (1 Corinthians 13:4), Therefore, God is Kind. God is just like the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain) waiting to floor us with kindness when we least expect it.

Then if we were to continue the conversation and you were to ask me how discovering God is kind has changed me I would tell you that it’s made me more like the man who is always selling roses (even in the rain). It’s made me kinder to people. I don’t snap at people anymore when they interrupt my work day, I smile at children and let people into traffic. I’ve begun to notice the hundreds of times a day others are kind to me. I don’t think I have to win everything or feel I have to prove something, I’ve learnt that sometime it’s better to be kind then to be right. I’ve realised sometimes just being kind is the best way to stand out, the best way to let someone else notice that God is kind.

Wow...

2010-07-13T15:26:00.000+02:00

This morning I was reading the bible and came across this really well-worn verse. You know it, you probably learnt to recite it in Sunday school and have probably forgotten how good it tasted at first bite.

I certainly had...

"Love your Enemies! Do good to them. Lend to them without expecting to be repaid. Then your reward from heaven will be very great, and you will be acting as children of the most high, for he is kind to those who are unthankful and wicked." (Luke 6:35)

Just let it sink in. One phrase at a time. Go back and read it again. Really, read it again!

That one little verse goes against everything we (or maybe just I) live out everyday. Do you really love your enemies and do good to them? Are you prepared to give something/do something for them and expect nothing in return? We're all about what we can get, what we can do for ourselves and how we can protect ourselves and then the Jesus (who likes us a lot) comes and whispers, "Love your enemy. Treat them better than your best friend...come on...surprise them by looking like me!"

I love how the verse switches into who we are (children of the most high). I know it makes me want to live like one, it makes me want to go and make some enemies just so I can love them...

Then this verse, which I am just rediscovering again, how unending and gracefulled and amazing God is that he would love people like me, people who are unthankful and wicked. Wow...

Diski Democracy

2010-07-05T15:31:00.002+02:00

Just read a great post by John Ellis about what he thinks the future of South Africa might look like. I hope it's a glimpse of what heaven might look like too...

Read it here

Rushing through Life

2010-07-05T14:40:00.000+02:00

I was in a rush today.
I had no reason to be in a rush.
Maybe I was just being Western.
He said, "Wendy, I need your help please"
I thought, "I really don't have time now,
hope he makes it quick."
Then I slowed down and thought,
'Really, don't you even have 5 minutes?'
So I stopped.
Turns out he wanted me to deposit some money at the bank.
Turns out I could do it online.
Turns out I could help this man even while I was in a rush.

My boyfriend needed me to give him a lift.
I was in a rush.
I had no reason to be in a rush.
Maybe I was just being selfish.

Black Christian Women's Magazine - Really?

2010-06-29T14:42:00.000+02:00

The other day I was sitting in my office when I overheard one of my collegues on the phone. She was talking to someone about securing an interview for one of her artists in a black Christian women's magazine. She said the topics would be: Grace, Salvation, Biblical Parenting and Marriage. She hung up and I sat back and thought how sad it is that we are still dividing people based on race. How tragic that we are still doing that in Church.

Look at the topics again: Grace, Salvation, Biblical Parenting and Marriage. How do those only apply to black Christian women? Don't they apply to all women (or all people) no matter what your skin tone.

My boyfriend often says that he thinks lots of people will be surprised when they get to heaven that there aren't "White Churches" and "Black Churches" but all the people of God are just one church. Can't wait for the day when I'm sitting in my office and I over hear my collegue saying, "I've got an interview for you the topics are: Grace, Salvation, Biblical Parenting and Marriage." I can't wait for the day when people are seen as more than just a collection of light or dark melanin.

Loving my Neighbour

2010-06-22T12:38:00.000+02:00

I don't know why she stays and I don't know what to do.

Last night I woke up for the second time in a week to my neighbour screaming and swearing. Her boyfriend using his fists to mark her body with what would soon be black and blue imprints. I didn't know what to do. I was shaking as I called the police. Shaking for the next hour and a half as I lay in bed far away from the danger that was lurking in my neighbours house.

I left a note on the car this morning. "Dear (I don't even know your name!). I've heard the fighting. Last night I called the police but all was quite by the time they got there and I didn't want to cause more trouble for you so they left. But I wanted you to know that I'm here for you. If you need a 'safe place' or need a hand to hold on the way to the policestation or just a cup of sugar. I also want you to know that you're valuable, beautiful and worth more than you know. And you are not alone." Then I gave her my telephone number and email address and signed my name.

It felt like I'd done nothing, like I'd stood by and watched him beat her. I thought about how the bible says we've got to love our enemies, about how I don't feel one drop of love for the man downstairs. I feel hate. I feel fear. I feel disgust. But I don't feel love for him. (And he hasn't done anything for me.) I'm praying God will help me to love him. Not like him but somehow find a way to offer the kindness, honesty and friendship that Jesus would.

Then there's my neighbour who doesn't know how to leave him. How do I love her? Is a note enough? No, but it's a start. So often I make the Bible something that is out there. Something that isn't a living, breathing, life-changing part of my life but this morning I feel like God is inviting me to be part of this story, to risk something for someone else and love them even when we don't understand what they do. I've a long way to go in loving my neighbours (both of them) well but I hope it started today and I hope that soon I'll know their names...

The face in the mirror

2010-06-18T12:44:00.001+02:00

I was deeply challenged recently while reading a book by a man who performed along musicians like Jimi Hendrix, John Lenon, Mick Jagger and Elton John about my own heart and what I've learnt about God, other people and the church. This man, Jimi Calhoun, wrote a book entitled A Story of Rythm and Grace about what the church can learn from Rock and Roll about healing the racial divide. He ended the eleventh chapter in a way that made me inhale slightly deeper, feel a little uncomfortable and want to change my habits. This is what I read:

"Go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. Pretend that the mirror is not for personal grooming, but an instrument of social reflection. Look closely at the image before you and say, "I am and have always been your best advocate." Now imagine that the person in the mirror is a different colour. Could you, or would you, be able to say thos same words to that mental image? If not, ask yourself why."

I didn't go to the bathroom, I didn't even look in a mirror, I didn't have to. I already knew the answer. If I smudged a little brown into my complextion and dyed my hair black and smiled the statement out to the person of another race I had composed in my mind or if I made my skin a little lighter and pulled my eyes to form slits and straightened my hair and whispered the statement I knew the answer remained the same.

I could answer without a doubt that I am and have always been my own biggest advocate but I couldn't say the same for the other races that conjoured into the mirror in my mind. It scared me. It scared me even more when I imagined myself: homeless, a prostitute and a drug addict. There was no way I could say to those people in the mirror, "I am and have always been your best advocate." Shouldn't I be able to?

I'm pretty sure when Jesus does the same exercise, he's able to look into the mirror, catch their roving eyes and say, "I am and have always been your best advocate." And then reach out to them through the glass and wipe the hair from the brows gently. I know because he does the same thing to me.

I was challenged by this musician because I want to be able to say with Jesus, "I am and have always been your best advocate" to people who I ignore in the streets, to people who don't always smell good and to people who I often think look nothing like me. However, Jesus sees all our hearts and he knows that we all look the same and that we all need him as our biggest advocate. And I'm hoping as I walk with Jesus I'll learn to be a good advocate too.

Chris Seay: The Gospel According to Lost (A review)

2010-06-11T12:23:00.000+02:00

The Gospel according to Lost explores the elements of the TV show Lost in an analysis of faith and metaphor and places itself as a resource to those who want to go deeper in the journey.

As a big Lost fan and a television producer I found this book disappointing. I’m not sure what I had been expecting but it definitely wasn’t this book. I hadn’t wanted the author, Chris Seay to explain Lost to me but I was hoping for a deeper spiritual discussion than the book offers and perhaps more wrestling with the deeper themes the TV show hints at. At the very least I was hoping that the book would stir up strong feelings and questions just like the TV show does but it doesn’t. I guess I was hoping for more depth than the book offers, it seems to just scrape the surface of the show and never really grapples with the bigger issues the book claims to cover like what lost has to say about the clash of faith and reason, the struggle with guilt, the dichotomy between fatalism and fate and how being lost presents an opportunity for liberation and paralyzes others.

Bottom line: if you love lost rather buy the box set. I don’t think this book has much to offer. It might look cool on your bookshelf but you won’t be reaching to read it again and again.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Following in Jesus' Footsteps

2010-06-10T13:47:00.000+02:00

I spent the last month in the Philippines. For almost 5 weeks I travelled through the country and lived with local families and ate local food and visited NGO’s and experienced moments of beauty. I’d love to say that I felt God was with me every step of the way but that would be lying. I felt he was with me a few times: on a boat as the sunset over the ocean, during worship in a strange church, in the eyes of an orphan who grabbed my hand to show me his world but mostly God and Jesus felt distant during the 5 weeks. I kept talking to him but I felt like he didn’t exist and I began to think that maybe he didn’t.

Then during my last week I climbed an active volcano. Something I have wanted to do since I was about 16. On the way up I struggled and sweated and slipped my way uphill through the sand so porous it could only have been made of ash. The view at the top was magnificent but I didn’t find God there. I edged down towards the crater with guide and almost slipped on a corner but he caught my hand and steadied my booted feet. He was in rubber flip-flops but his feet were as steady as mountain goat.

The time came to descend and I decided that I would follow in our guide’s footsteps. I would literally put my feet in his footsteps. That’s how the descent started as he lifted his foot I placed mine in the displaced soil. The plan worked really well till I was about half way down and decided that if I just put my feet in the vicinity of his I’d be safe and I wouldn’t slip and fall. I stopped being so careful, stopped walking in his footsteps and the ground slid out from under me and I just managed to stop myself from landing in the dust. I returned to the rhythm of placing my feet in the guides footsteps.

As I did I began to think of Jesus. I began to think how he walked up to the men who became his disciples and said, “Come follow me”. I pondered how he didn’t say, “Come walk beside me” or “Come with me” or “Come along for the party” but he said “Come follow me…come put your feet where I have trodden and I will show you a new life, I will show you a new way of living and even though we walk along the edge of a volcano you can trust me that I know the path and that I won’t let you stumble and fall.”

I left the Philippines sure that even when I couldn’t see God if I kept putting my feet in his footsteps I had nothing to fear, if I keep listening for Jesus’ voice saying, “Come follow me” then I won’t stumble and fall. All I need to do trust Jesus enough to put my feet where his were and that sometimes easier said then done.

The matters of the heart - (Guest Blog by Xylon)

2010-05-10T13:29:00.001+02:00

I recently found out about a young girl who has been kicked out of her home by her mother whom she lived with. The reason for this is that she is pregnant with her second baby out of wedlock at the age of 21. I've been thinking about this a lot today. It's my understanding that she has received a very cold shoulder from her family for her mistake. I can understand this if she has a hard unrepentant heart, but, for some reason I don't see her this way. He who is without sin, cast the first stone. Artist Derek Webb sings "right and wrong were written on my heart and not just in the laws that condemn me". I can understand the hurt in this situation, but no one in the history of time has been hurt more than our Father. Billions of people for centuries have hurt him, yet what does he do? He gives of himself to save us from the hurt we've caused. I can't help but think as the human race we are in a very bad state. I can't help but think as the body of Christ we are in a bad state and will only be saved by the blood of Jesus. We are great at attending "church" meetings and raising our hands at songs. We are great at doing the things that seem right but I can't help but think we are terrible at the things that matter. The things of the heart. The things Jesus really cares about. Christianity has become a culture of living our middle class lives, then fitting religious rituals around it. I don't want to point any fingers because I would be found guilty of this more than anyone but my heart goes out to this girl and is being broken today. I can't help but think of the innocent baby coming into this world. Jesus said my grace is sufficient for you. His grace is sufficient for her today.

Xylon

A guest blog from my boyfriend

2010-05-03T21:42:00.000+02:00

Last night I was an idiot. I was at a braaifor a friend’s birthday party. This friend of mine is a Christian and themajority of people there, if not all, were Christians. I saw a lady light up a cigarette and Ithought to myself, obviously she is one of the non-Christian friends who arehere. Then I thought to myself, I am such an idiot. I was contemplating thismatter while out cycling this morning and realized the reason for my thinking.My type of Christianity has always been about do’s and don’t. About rules.About sounding a certain way and having a certain look. I think that’s whatChristianity has become today. If you love God, you won’t do this that and theother.

We’ve become a people of the bible says thisand the bible says that and we’ve forgotten, the one who wrote the bible livesinside of us, today. Recently a once popular Christian singer Jennifer Knapphas confessed to being in a same sex relationship. Most Christian’s I wouldtalk to about this would tell me what the bible says. The truth of the matteris, unless we’ve gone through something she is going through, we can’t begin toexperience or understand what she’s going through. I think all we should do issay Jen we love you, we love that you love the Father, we hope your new albumis going to be as awesome as the ones before. In fact we know it will be, ifyou need anything we are here for you. Unconditionally. Having said that it’seasier said than done.

My point is Christianity should not have alook. It should not be “stop sleeping with your girlfriend then come to churchand meet Jesus”. It should be ,“let me introduce you to this amazing Jesus asyou are, you’ll become a part of his bride and you’ll live in amazingrelationship with him no matter what that means for you”. For too long we’vebeen managing sin. There is nothing we can do to stop our sin. When we startliving in love with God and comfortable with our wrong doings do we stop beingarrogant Christians. The more I stopped doing the things I thought I should notbe doing, the better Christian I thought I was. What kind of a messed upthinking is that? God told me to stop being religious, to stop worshipping himthrough other people who seem way more important and to invite him along onmore of my bicycle rides.

The End

Xylon

Jennifer Knapp: Struggling with Perceptions

2010-04-17T15:53:00.013+02:00

"The struggle I've had has been with the church, acknowledging me as a human being, trying to live the spiritual life that I've been called to, in whatever ramshackled, broken, frustrated way that I've always approached my faith. I still consider my hope to be a whole human being, to be a person of love and grace. So it's difficult for me to say that I've struggled within myself, because I haven't. I've struggled with other people. I've struggled with what that means in my own faith. I have struggled with how that perception of me will affect the way I feel about myself."

Jennifer Knapp in an interview with Christianity Today

This comment came from a recent interview with Christianity Today where Jennifer Knapp admitted after thousands of rumours flying around, a few million album sales and a seven year hiatus that she is lesbian and she will be releasing another album soon. This blog isn't really about her "coming out" or about lesbianism and the church.I just related to her comment above about how her struggle has been with the church, her struggle has been with other people, with her own faith and how other people will percieve her choices. I felt like Jennifer gave words to some of how I relate to the church, to other people, to myself.

I haven't struggled with homosexuality and I can't relate to the internal battle which one must face but I've struggled with other issues under the eyes of church and people and I know how hard it is to come out holding on to faith and belief, clutching Jesus' hand and saying, "Thank you for holding on because I didn't think we'd make it through". On a daily basis I struggle with how other people percieve my interracial relationship, I struggle not to let their perceptions affect the way I view myself and my relationship. I've struggled with what being in an interracial relationship means in my own faith and I've made decisions, that not everyone I know and love agrees with. And sometimes I struggle with that too.

I used to think that everytime I struggled within myself I was fighting with God but I think I'm learning that sometimes I'm not wrestling God but rather other peoples perceptions of me. I'm realising that I want to care less about what other people think of me and my choices and more about what God thinks of my choices. This comment woke me up to the fact that maybe I've been letting other people's opinions have too much place in my life, when really God's opinions are the ones that matter.

It's a daily struggle not to care about what the Church thinks, or what the people I love think, or about what I think others think about me but to sit with Jesus and ask him what he thinks, to invite him to struggle with me and find solutions with me. At the end of the day, Jesus wants to be a part of all our struggles, no matter what they are, because it's only with him that we can become a whole human being, a person of love and grace. And that's the person I want to be and the person I think God wants me to be.

Who will get to heaven?

2010-04-13T11:04:00.000+02:00

I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven
Who made me sputter and gasp--
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.

'And why is everyone so quiet,
So somber - give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' He said, 'they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you..'

Author Unknown

Racial Tension: Love is the answer

2010-04-09T09:51:00.000+02:00

I woke up on Sunday to the news that a South African politician who believed in white purity had been murdered by two black men over wage disagreements. A few weeks prior to that another South African politician began singing the lyrics, "Kill the Boer, Kill the Farmer". He claims it's a song of his heritage. Ironically, the white politician believed that protecting his racial purity was part of his heritage. I'm beginning to think that both the black politician and the white politician and all their followers are fighting for the same thing: the preservation of a heritage of hate.

I've been upset the whole week. In turmoil because I'm in a multi-racial relationship, I have friends, colleagues and acquaintances of all races and I deeply believe that all people (regardless of colour, language or culture) have value simply because God created them in HIS image. I've been speaking to my boyfriend, friends, colleagues and acquaintances about this poison that is seeping into my country, colouring everything with hate. I've been worrying about it and then I saw a friend’s status on her chat and my soul was quieted: "love is the answer".

I don't know if she was talking about the racial tension or about some other matter altogether but it was if suddenly the solution was clear: love. Love lived out practically to every person we meet (regardless of colour, language or culture); love lived out in generosity, courtesy, patience, honesty, humility and perhaps most importantly, forgiveness. I thought about how Jesus might answer the question: How do we heal a country splitting itself along racial lines? And I'm sure I heard him say, "Love is the answer". I thought about how Jesus might answer the question: How do we end the continuation of a heritage of hate? And I'm sure I heard him say, "Love is the answer".

Relearning to Pray

2010-03-27T11:01:00.001+02:00

I was praying the other morning. I'm calling it praying because I'm learning there's a bit of difference (in my mind at least) between praying and talking to God.

I was praying the other morning. Praying because I was telling God what I'd like him to do in my life and other peoples lives. You know how this prayer goes, "God, please help Jane/James/Jerry to be nice today. Help us to communicate better and help us to get along. Lord, please also make things go smoothly at work and help me to deal with this problem/person/thing." I call that praying. Maybe I should call it ordering God around but generally if I'm honest that's what my prayers sound like, they sound like me asking God to do things in my life that suit the way I see the world.

I was praying the other morning. I stopped in the middle of my prayers and I thought, 'Wendy, what are you doing? Prayer is meant to be you talking to God like you would a friend. Would you ever go to coffee and talk to a friend the way you have been talking to God?' Immediately, my response was, 'No Way!' and I realised that friend probably wouldn't want to come out for coffee with me again. Afterall who really wants to go out for coffee with someone who just talks about themselves and what matters to them.

I was praying the other morning. I decided to stop praying mid-sentence and try talking to God like I would a friend. I tried telling him about the problem/person/thing and asking him what his solution might be or to work in the situation however he wanted. Talking to God like a friend sounded a lot like this, "So God I'm worried about this person/problem/thing and I don't know what to do. We're not getting on the way I'd like to. Is there something you want me to do to change this? Could you tell me how you see the situation."

I was talking to God the other morning and I realised how things have changed since I stopped praying, since I stopped ordering God around and rather began talking to him and letting him tell me what to do. Relearning how to pray is hard, sometimes it's easier to just revert to telling God waht I want, I often have to stop mid-sentence and say God, "Would you like to come for coffee because I'd like to hear your opinion on a few things..."

Live Loved and Live Loving

2010-03-23T13:49:00.000+02:00

I was watching TV this morning. There was a debate on between a number of pastors about the meaning of the Gospel. One of the guys on the show was a young youth pastor called Dean. I've met him a couple of times and really respect not only what he says but who he is and how he lives. I actually always wonder how he was sucked into the church scene because he's not really 'churchy'. You wouldn't look at him in a line up and think he was a christian, you'd probably think he was a surfer or student or someone who still needed to grow into a business suit.

The TV was just on in the background at my place of work when I heard Dean say, "Jesus must become greater and I must become less. This is the gospel. You don't need to add anything else to it or make anyone jump through hoops." I liked what I was hearing so I listened for a while longer and then he said something I've heard before but which stuck with me today, "All Jesus wants us to do is realise how much he loves us and then love others. He wants us to live loved and live loving others."

I liked that. I liked the simplicity of it. And I liked being reminded of how simple what God's called us to is. I was mulling it over when a courier arrived with a package for me. He apologised for not having a pen, so I took mine out and signed for it. Then I told him he could keep the pen. The courier, who I'd never met before and I, ended up having a long conversation about our weekends. As he walked away I thought about how easy it is to live loved and live loving others.

Children of God

2010-03-18T12:22:00.000+02:00

My boyfriend went to a wedding this past Saturday. It was in another town and I couldn't go with him. He told me how the father of the groom kept introducing him to the grooms cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles as, "This is my Son." He felt so loved and accepted by them even if the extended family looked a bit perplexed...since this "father and son" have completely different ethnicities.

This story made me think of God, of how God has adopted each of us into his family. What this father did for my boyfriend* is what God has done for us. God walks around telling everyone he knows (and that's quite a lot of people...) that we are his children. He doesn't care how perplexed they look or how different we look from him. If we've called him "Father" he is proud to call us "Son" or "Daughter".

* Note: My boyfriend isn't really adopted by this man - it was just the way he always introduces him and has for years.

Can I miss God's purpose for my life?

2010-03-16T12:01:00.000+02:00

“Mary Fisher
1845 – 1873
Deeply Regretted”

I remember standing at Mary Fishers’ grave, thinking about how I wanted to live with no regrets, thinking about how I did not want to miss what God had for me or be held accountable for the talents God gave me that I didn’t use. I’ve grown up a little since then, and learnt a little more about God the Father, I’ve learnt that the Father isn’t out to get us, trip us up and come down on us rather he’ll do everything in his power to ensure that we take the best path for our lives. Realising His love for us has allowed me to relax a lot, not worry so much about missing God’s purpose for my life and it’s made me think a lot more about a man called Jonah.

Jonah encountered a rather large mammal one dark stormy night when he was thrown off a ship into the sea. A whale came up and swallowed him like plankton. Jonah stayed in the belly of the rather large mammal for three days and three nights until God ordered the whale to belch slimy Jonah onto a beach [In case you think I’m making all this up, grab a bible and look for the book of Jonah, it’s all there in black and white…] Now, the thing about the beach that Jonah found himself on was that it was the exact beach that had caused him to board the ship in the first place. It was the beach that he had been trying to avoid. The problem for Jonah was that it was the only beach in the world that God wanted him on and the beach God had called him to in the first place.

Why do I like that story? I like that story because it gives me hope that if Jonah, who was actively rebelling against what God wanted him to do, could be guided by God to the exact place God needed him to be, then if I am actively seeking what God wants for my life, God can probably get me there. It comforts me that even when our hearts aren’t a 100% in tune with God, if God wants you somewhere, he’ll take you there even if he has to call on his friend Moby Dick to do it.

I am learning that finding direction in life has more to do with momentum then with finding a career or vocation. Momentum requires movement; it is an energy, a drive, a force that a person possesses. If Jonah hadn’t decided to go somewhere (even if it wasn’t exactly where God had called him) would he ever have lived out his purpose? I have great confidence that if your heart is purposefully pursuing God you will discover that it is very hard to miss his will for your life, you will realize that it is very hard to keep putting your feet in God’s footsteps and regret the way you lived your life.

The Story is Yours

2010-03-10T17:59:00.000+02:00

He shouted into the crowd, "Fabula Est Vestri" and left the stage effectively ending, two decades of writing fresh words and tunes for Delirious? Martin Smith chose to let the last curtian fall with latin words which mean, "The Story is Yours". I read those words yesterday and they resonated with me, they made me want to reach out and take the baton he was extending. It made me want to carry on where he has left off. It made me want to write songs and sing and fight injustice and poverty. It made me want to live a good story.

He spoke clearly to the small group of people, "Go and make disciples of all nations..." Jesus let the curtain fall on his time on earth with words that could mean, "The Story is Yours". We've heard the scripture from Matthew 28: 18 - 20 so many times that it honestly doesn't make me want to grab the baton and run with it. It makes me want to yawn. I know I should be excited like I am about Martin Smith saying, "Fabula Est Vestri". I know I should go "Wow, Jesus wants me to do what he has been doing. I can't believe Jesus is trusting me to write the next chapter of his big story that he has allowed me to be part of."

I don't think that way though. Do you? Do you stop when you read those lines in amazement and wonder and awe? Because the story is yours now. The story is mine now. Jesus has passed the baton on to us. He has given us everything we need on heaven and on earth to live a good story, everything we need on heaven and earth to fight injustice and poverty, everything we need to go and make disciples of all nations. Now, the only question left is will I take the baton? Will we take the baton? Will we live a good story? Will we live the story Jesus intended when he said, "Go and make disciples..."? I know I want to.

Fabula Est Vestri!

Picture courtesy of: http://www.flickr.com/photos/philon/ / CC BY 2.0

He Knows Your Name

2010-03-05T15:00:00.003+02:00

He sees you, He's near you
He knows your face, He knows your pain
He sees you and He loves you
He knows your name, He knows your name

(From Fireflight's song, Name)

I was a little down this morning when I left for work. My mind was full of troubles and worries and thoughts of how things could be. I got in the car and I was feeling really alone and as I turned the engine on I heard this song playing and it bought tears to my eyes and my heart yelled, "Wow!...HE sees ME! HE loves ME?" It was exactly what I needed to hear, precisely what I needed whispered in my ear.

God's love gets me every time. It's everywhere, it's huge and incomprehensible and sneaks up on you when you don't expect it and when you do. I hit repeat and drove to work with the words burrowing their way into my soul. I thought about the He, some of my friends call him "God or Something", who loves me. I thought about the moment God (or Something) surprised my agnostic friend with a 21 wild dogs on a recent game drive after she prayed, "God or Something if you're out there won't you show us something cool?" She laughed it off but I loved that God or Something (I don't think God really minds what's he's called) showed up.

It thought about the rejected, pregnant woman who encountered Something in the desert and decided to name the place: Beer Lahai Roi. Which means "Well of Living One who sees me" Wow! I've always loved that story from the Bible about a person who was down and out, who had nothing going for her, a person who had decided it might just be better to curl up under a tree and wait to die but God showed up. He always does. Not always in the way we think he will. Sometimes he turns up as an angel of the Lord, and sometimes in a pack of wild dogs and sometimes on a CD that I left in my car yesterday. Whether or not you see him turn up, He still sees you, He's still near you, He still knows your face, He still knows your pain and He still loves you.

Vision and New Identity

2010-03-02T15:35:00.000+02:00

If you have the time please go take a look at the articles I've written for New Identity Magazine on Marraige and Melanin. It deals with the issues surrounding multi-ethnic and multi-cultural relationships and families.

You'll also find another article there entitled How to Save a Life with a few ideas on what you can do to change the world.

Finally, if you live in South Africa, make sure to pick up the latest issue of Vision Magazine where I write about Steven Curtis Chapman's life since his family lost their daughter.

directions: the active principle of existence

2010-02-25T16:05:00.001+02:00

I have been a graphic designer. I have been the author of a travel guide. I have been a jewellery designer, an entrepreneur, a receptionist, a waitress, a published poet, a switchboard operator, a promoter, a cashier, and I have taught computer skills. I have been a photographic assistant, a book keeper, a data capturer, and an events co-ordinator. I have been a paramedic, an outdoor education instructor, a life skills teacher and a pregnancy crisis counsellor. I have been an au pair, a television producer and a student.

Since I finished school nine years ago I have begun four different degrees, completed two different certificates and commenced another. I have lived in 6 different cities, in South Africa and Germany, for periods from one month to 2 years. In one town, I moved home 6 times in 14 months. I have travelled twelve countries in nine years. I have friends in twenty five different countries. I own property in none.

Who am I? I am a wanderer, a gypsy, a nomad. But let me formally introduce myself. My name is Wendy. I have breathed for 851 472 400 seconds and counting. My occupation is my life. In five years time I will probably be doing something I never dreamed I could. I would rather read a book then watch TV and I do not like tea or coffee. My favourite place is a waterfall surrounded on three sides by tall granite rock; a waterfall that most people will never find.

I love long solitary walks in beautiful places but thrive off quality time and conversation with my friends. I only like rules if I make them, and rebelliously follow rules made by other people. I break off split ends instead of biting my nails. I find it hard to persevere through tedium but I am learning. When I grow up I would like to be: a travel writer or a mom or a project manager for an NGO or a Sherpa in the Himalayas.

A few years ago I stopped at a tiny cemetery in a nondescript town. The graveyard was small and most of the tombstones are dated before my 95 year old grandfather’s parents were born. It is rarely visited and no fresh flowers are scattered among the two dozen or so tombs. I cannot recall what was inscribed on most of the tombstones. My memories do not recollect anyone famous or anybody I am related to resting in the soil. I do remember one inscription silenced the groaning gravel. I ran to fetch a pen and paper and recorded what it said:

“Mary Fisher

1845 – 1873

Deeply Regretted”

I do not know who Mary Fisher was. I have no knowledge of her life. For me her entire life is contained in the dash between those two numbers: fleeting, fragile, empty. I am not aware of the circumstances of her death. I only knew in that moment that I did not want that epitaph on my grave. I did not want my name and then the words “deeply regretted” tagged onto the end.

Since then, I have often speculated whether Mary Fisher deeply regretted not doing something in her life, or whether her family grieved deeply over her death at 28. I can shed no light on the matter, but imagine having your entire life summed up by the words: “deeply regretted”. Not intensely loved. Not dearly beloved or greatly missed. Not enthusiastically lived. Not a whisper of a life embraced with vivacity and animation and love. Instead of life, regret is engraved, and remembered, as the final word on an intriguing woman’s life.

I walked away, questions agitating my pace. How to breathe life in and shout it out? How to keep a soul fertile to changes, places, people and God? How to laugh often and much, yet weep with strangers? How to face decisions that could change everything? How to stand beneath the weight of familiarity and truth; love and tragedy; birth and the ache of beauty, and not shrink back but stand, as beneath a thunderous waterfall and enjoy the feeling of water awakening each skin cell? How to live with courage and pursue the dreams that scare me? How to live and not regret?

I am not really brave so I need to remind myself that I am capable of doing the things that I fear. My cowardice requires a tap on the shoulder and a reminder that I do not want to live my life alone in a dark corner reading a book; that I want to live with abandon and deeply. I want to be present and alive; able to let things go when they are dead and provide space for the living things to grow. I do not want to regret the things I have not done nor look with remorse on things I have done. And I do not want fear to rule my heart.

It takes courage to pursue dreams in life; to be who you are. It requires guts to choose a career that suits and challenges you; that pushes you to reach your potential. It is much easier to stagnate, to stay where you are when the time has come to do a new thing; maybe the thing you fear. For some this might be moving to a new place, a new job, a new relationship. For me the new thing is finding the courage to stay, to put down roots, to not push people away when they try to love me, to lose my nomad status and remain actively pursuing life.

I guess life has always been this way for nomads and wanderers: the constant tension between pegging a tent down against the wind and moving onto the next spot. The steady question of whether to bore a well for water, weighed against the nomad’s desire to fill up the camel skins and depart for the next oasis. The nomad’s choice is between knowing where one will sleep for the next ten years and not knowing where one will wake up tomorrow. It is a decision for life in the midst of existence. The resolution to always choose to do what will allow the nomad to feel most alive, while doing what is best for other desert travellers.

I have not always been a wandering nomad. When I was five I knew - like I knew that my mom would kiss me better when I scraped my knee -that I wanted to be a missionary doctor. I also knew that to be a good missionary doctor in Africa would require a horse and two Dalmatians. I became a wanderer as I grew up and discovered picture books of Scandinavia, and journalism, and different breeds of dogs. At 16, I decided I wanted to be a paramedic and work in war zones like Afghanistan and Iraq. Ever since I have swayed back and forth, like a nomad. I have studied paramedics, journalism, then paramedics again, and I am presently studying a postgraduate degree in Applied Linguistics. You see, I have this whole finding direction in life thing sorted!

Actually, strangely enough I think that I do. It may not seem like it: I do not have a 5 year plan, or a degree or a clue what I am doing next year. I think that finding direction in life has more to do with momentum then with finding a career or vocation. Momentum requires movement; it is an energy, a drive, a force that a person possesses. People who stagnate do not need directions because they are not going anywhere, they are not changing. It is only people, who constantly seek change and to be changed, that need directions.

I do not want to be the same person in ten years that I am today. I do not want to stop learning, living and laughing. I need to move, to change to grow, to try things and fail, in order to live deeply without regretting a second. If I had to do my life over; I would make it look exactly like the life I have lived: I would still have Plan B, C and Y as part of plan A. I would take the same friends along on road trips, scream my heart out to the same music and write off the same vehicles. I would still watch the sun set in a storm. I would still be a wanderer, a gypsy, a nomad. And I might still be a Sherpa in the Himalayas.

Our diversity, His Glory

2010-02-22T10:05:00.004+02:00

I spent Saturday night in China. Okay, not exactly I spent it on a street in Johannesburg which had been transformed into a patch of China by the South African Chinese community in celebration of New Years. I went with my boyfriend and some friends and we sat on the pavement beneath a hundred or so crackers which would later be lit for a dragon to scoff. We people watched, we firework watched and my boyfriend lent over and said, "All these people are God's people. God made every one in his image."

I looked around and I thought how incredibly true that was. There was a sea of people everywhere of almost every tribe and tongue and nation. All around I could hear people speaking languages I couldn't understand or English with an accent I couldn't place. There were Chinese people and Japanese people and Vietnamese people. There were Zulu people and Xhosa people and Mozambiquen people. There were American people and British people and I think even an Australian somewhere in the mix. There were South African's of every imaginable skin tone and ethinic background. And there were children with parents of different cultures and skin tones. All these people were God's people. God made every one in HIS image.

Last night, I was reading Louie Giglio and I came across this paragraph: "When God made the universe, His goal was not to make a habitat for man, but rather to make a statement about Himself. As He fashioned earth, God was not simply acting as man's interior (and exterior) designer, creating a global environment we all would love and enjoy. He was mostly thinking about Himself...when he created the first man and woman, God wasn't obsessed with the glory of the human race, but with His own glory. And it's there, everywhere - mysteriously woven into our DNA, the image-stamp of the Creator, allowing us to share a unique intimacy with the almighty and reflect His glory."

I was reflecting on how all those diverse people are Saturday night are God's people, each and everyone created in his image. Each and everyone a fragment of God reflecting who he is into the world, each and everyone making a statement about God whether they acknowledge his existence or deny it. God created us diverse because it would best glorify him, because it best show who he is: huge, indefinable, unimaginable, holy. Our diversity, our God-determined DNA, is for his Glory.

Immersion: Danny & Jesus

2010-02-17T15:52:00.000+02:00

I'm a producer and researcher and sometimes scriptwriter for a Christian TV Channel. I spend my time phoning artists, bands and celebrities, well, normally their managers and agents. I call record labels and event management companies and production houses, which is how I met Danny.

I called Danny to request music videos for the show. He was helpful and pleasant and promised to send the tapes the next day. I waited a few days and then emailed him. He replied that he had the flu and was not at work but would send them to me when he got back. He phoned awhile later, whilst I was running errands , and asked if he could drop the videos off. He left them with one of my colleagues. I called him to say thank you.

The following Monday on my drive home my phone rings.

“Hi Wendy! It’s Danny. How are you? Sorry, I’m phoning after working hours but I’m still working and I wanted to tell you this.”

“No problem, Danny.” I start to look for a place to pull over while Danny talks.

“I don’t know if you can use this or not but I thought I’d let you know anyway.”

“Cool”, I say, thinking Danny is about to tell me one of his bands would like to come on the show.

“Well, Wendy, this weekend, was hectic with gigs and stuff, and I got two punctures on Saturday night...”

I mumble something encouraging while wondering why on earth he is telling me this and what it has to do with me booking a band on the show.

Danny talks on “...First one tyre went and then the spare. I could have got them fixed. I probably should have got them fixed but I didn’t. This morning when I went out to the car to leave for work, the tyres were flat and one was shredded.”

I find a gas station to pull into because the conversation is shaping up in such a manner that it requires my full attention.

"Now, I live on a small holding you see Wendy. I am the only person there. My housemate is in a heavy metal band and he wasn’t around. I live on a small holding and it is quite far out of town. I didn’t know what to do. I needed to get to work. So I got down on my knees, on my knees on the ground next to my car. And I prayed. I prayed to God. I told him he would have to get me out of there. And could he please make it easy.”

“Then do you know what Wendy, a pickup stopped, and out got this guy wearing a leather jacket with the words, “lamb of God” on the back, can you believe it Wendy? “Lamb of God!” He climbed out the vehicle and said, ‘man, it looks like you’ve got a problem with your tyres. Do you need some help?’ I asked if he could give me a lift to the garage. He told me he had dropped his grandfather off in the area and had decided to drop by and see my flatmate. How cool is that, Wendy? Before I even prayed God answered.”

By this stage I was smiling, grinning, laughing. I told Danny, it was amazing, that God was amazing. Then he got all shy and said, “So I just wanted to tell you that. You got the videos I sent you and everything is alright on my side?”

“Ja, it’s all great Danny.”

“Bye then.”

“Bye.”

I drove the rest of the way home laughing and crying and praying. I loved that God had broken into Danny’s life. I thought it was the coolest thing ever that God had decided that he was going to rock Danny’s world that Monday morning. I felt honoured Danny decided to share his moment, when he realised Jesus likes him, with me. I felt humbled that God put me in the position where people like Danny can phone and tell me Jesus likes them. I am looking forward to the day when Danny calls to say that Jesus and him are now friends. In the meantime I will keep immersing myself in a world where people like Danny have yet to meet a man like Jesus.

But for the grace of God...

2010-02-11T14:34:00.000+02:00

I shared a toasted sandwhich and my heart with a friend of mine today. We spoke about haircuts and weather and deadlines and relationships with men going through a divorce. She told me about how it all happened so fast and how she hadn't thought it would ever happen to her and how so many of her friends judge her while saying, "I'm not judging but..."

I told her, "I was sorry." Sorry for the breakup. And sorry for the friends who had hurt her. Sorry for the pain I could see seeping out her eyes and down her cheeks. Sorry that I couldn't help her. Sorry that I couldn't make it all better.

As I drove away from lunch I thought about how quickly I judge others. How quick I am to think, "I wouldn't have done that!" or "What were you thinking?" or to express dissappointment when all the other person wants is love. They want a response of love that recognises how close to the edge we come in failing to live perfectly. A response which cracks us open in vulnerabilty and offers a hand to say, "I'll help you get to the other side even if by associating with you I'll be tarred with the same brush". A response which shouts, "But for the grace of God, go I..."

Skin

2010-02-03T11:29:00.000+02:00

Percentage of the human race that has skin: 100 percent.
Percentage of your body weight that is skin: 16 percent.
Percentage of your life that is determined by your skin: Unknown.

Your skin is your body's largest organ, it covers the entire surface and has a surface area of about two square meters. It forms a tough physical barrier to protect your internal organs but anyone who has ever had to deal with race issues will know that skin does nothing to protect your emotions.

Last night I watched the movie Skin which is a film about family, forgiveness and never giving up no matter what colour your skin might be. The Laing family could have been just another white Afrikaans family growing up in apartheid South Africa but then they had a daughter Sandra who had much darker skin, curly hair and the appearance of someone of mixed race. Genetic testing proved she was the daughter of her white mother and father and her case became one of the most striking examples of recessive genes finally having recombined after several generations, and once again forming an individual reflective of racial mixing which occurred several generations previously.

Under the South African apartheid government this led to much difficulty for the family. Officially people of different races weren't allowed to socialise, live under the same roof, share a toilet or a queue. In a country where race was more important than character and anyone who wasn't white was treated as sub-human this was a tragedy for the family which ultimately resulted in Sandra running away and losing contact with her parents and her two brothers.

The movie got me thinking about race again, something I've thought about quite frequently since I started dating a man of another race just over a year ago. What does race really mean? How does it define a person? What colour is God? And does it really matter? I remember reading a memoir about a black man's tribute to his white mother, long before I dated interracially and being struck by a passage where James McBride asks what colour is God and his mother replies, "God is the colour of water. Water doesn't have a colour." I liked it then and I like it now. It just reminds me that God is so much bigger than the colour of our skin, then the stereotypes of race, then the ocean of differences between tones of melanin.

Growing up in South Africa, I am probably more sensitised to race than if I'd grown up in another country. I can't deny that I see it. I know I'm paler than my dark boyfriend. I'm not colourblind. When I met Nicole C. Mullen last year as part of my job I had quite a long chat with her about interracial relationships and I loved what she said about raising her bi-racial children, "We talk about history - there were good white people and there were bad white people. There were good black people and there were bad black people. You'll always have that. We have currently and we will have it in the future. Colour's not what makes them good or bad. It's the heart of man. And without Jesus Christ, we're all inherently evil. And without Him redeeming us and saving us, that's our lot in life."

I love that we can't change the colour of our skin, that we can't change the DNA of our race but we can change our hearts. I love that Jesus doesn't view the amount of melanin in our bodies as a barrier to him, that he doesn't let it determine our entry into heaven, that God is a father to black, white, yellow, pink, blue and every colour in between people and that no government on earth can separate him from his kids. I love that neither recessive genes or white skin or the way my hair curls can ever separate me from the love of God.

Percentage of the human race that has skin: 100 percent.

Percentage of your body weight that is skin: 16 percent.
Percentage of your relationship with God that is determined by your skin: 0 percent.

My Whole Life Ruined

2010-01-25T11:07:00.000+02:00

Found this quote on the blog of a couple who recently acted like Christians and moved to Haiti. They used it to answer the question why are you moving to Haiti? A few days after they arrived the earthquake struck. What a challenge to live life like we understand the bible.

"The Bible is very easy to understand. But we as Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand we are obliged to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined."

- Søren Kierkegaard

What Kind of Life?

2010-01-22T14:25:00.000+02:00

At the traffic lights today I took a flyer advertising a cheap car service. I already have about 5 in my car. I took the flyer and told the guy handing them out to have a good day. He said the same thing to me. I smiled and he smiled. And then I thought about kindness.

For years I have take flyers from guys (sometimes girls) standing at the traffic lights. If I'm driving somewhere with other people in the car they usually ask why I take them. Normally I respond that I'm trying to help someone who is trying to help themselves by earning an honest living. I think from today I might just say I take them because it's kind.

I've been thinking about kindness a lot lately, about how so much of loving people comes back to simply being kind. It's hard to love if we're not kind. I think kindness must be one of the core characteristics of God - gentle, gooey, sympathetic kindness for us! It takes kindness from God to listen to our prayers; it takes kindness from us to listen to our friends hearts. It takes kindness from God to paint the sunset and the sunrise; it takes kindness from us to smile at a stranger. I used to think of God's love (and therefore my love for others) as some ethreal, far off, emotional experience but I'm learning that God's love isn't far off but very practical when we look at it in the context of patience, courtesy, humility and kindness.

I'm spending more of my time looking for opportunities to show kindness. I'm trying to smile at strangers, do the dishes, bring someone a glass of water, take flyers, tell someone they look pretty, respond kindly to a request instead of harshly, stay late at the office when everyone else has gone home. (If you think of more please comment on this post!) I'm realising the more I look for acts of kindness the more I see opportunities for me to be kind. Today's list of kind things I experienced includes (but isn't limited to): my brother's sharing a car so I can use mine, the man at the traffic light telling me to have a nice day, people changing their timetables to fit me in, the security guard asking me how I am, my boyfriend sending a message with an encouraging word and my collegue saying she'll take on a project I don't want to.

When I look back on my life it's the moments of remarkable kindness that stand out for me: the lady who came to clean our house for free when I was growing up and my mom was sick, my mom's other friend who would bring hot butter popcorn for us to enjoy, the lady who I hardly knew who gave me a place to sleep for two weeks when I would otherwise have been homeless in a strange city, my parents giving me a trip overseas. At the time I took these things for granted but now I see them as kindness. When I think of these people I think that's the kind of life I want to lead. What kind of life do you want?

Proof that God is spelt L.O.V.E

2010-01-15T13:38:00.002+02:00

Have you ever heard love described as selfish? Love is patient, kind, courteous, generous, honest and a host of other good things but love is never selfish. People are though. How often have you heard people described as selfish? How often have you been selfish? I was selfish last night. I fought for my rights to go where I wanted when I wanted without worrying about the other persons feelings. That doesn't sound a lot like love. Us people tend to think primarily about ourselves and what we need. Even our language is selfish (at least mine is): "I'm hungry", "I'm tired" or "I'm not paid enough".

I've been thinking a lot about what it really means to love lately, thinking about how love is so often described as this ethereal, mystical, out-there experience when Jesus describes it in a way that he expects us to live it. Take Ephesians 5: 1-2 for example: "Mostly what God does is love you...His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that." or Matthew 7:12 "Here is a simple, rule of thumb guide for behaviour: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you, then grab the initiative and do it for them. Add up God's law and the prophets and this is what you get."

Perhaps love like that is one of the greatest arguments for God's existence. The more I think about it and watch how people behave, the more I'm convinced that people would never have thought up love on our own. We would certainly never make a love which exists purely to serve another the pillars of a religion: love people and love God. I mean without God, and what he's taught us about love, would we ever stop to ask other people questions like: "Are you hungry, can I make you something?", "You look tired, let me finish and you go rest" or "Wow, God, you've given me so much how would you like me to share it with people who don't have?" Those aren't normal human reactions. Those are the actions of humans who love.

Now, someone will argue or post a comment saying what about the person who doesn't believe in God? They experience love, they can show others kindness, courtesy and generosity? True, but I think this is because the person who doesn't believe in God has seen God's love without knowing it. God's love so completely permeates creation, it oozes out of every inch of water and sky, and secretes itself into our pores and cells, covertly finding a way into every person's life.

Selfishness doesn't do that. It can't. Selfishness doesn't contain God. It contains ME. I've been thinking a little bit about my selfish episode last night, about how I don't want that kind of behaviour to characterise me, how I want to be characterised by love. How I want people to say, "Mostly what Wendy does is love us." I've realised I can't be selfish and love like God. It's going to cost to ask myself what I want people to do for me, then grab the initiative and do it for them. It's going to cost and I think I'm going to be a very clumsy lover. I think I'm going to have selfish episodes again (hopefully less frequently) and I'm going to get angry at selfish people around me but in the end maybe I'll learn to love a little bit more like God. This morning I read in Matthew 10: 42, "This is a large work I've called you into, but don't be overwhelmed by it. It's best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing."

Just a Dress

2010-01-14T12:51:00.002+02:00

If you want to turn just about any woman into a sludgy, puddle of jello like substance then invite them to a black tie event when they don't own a formal dress. Okay, let me personalize this, if you want to turn me into a sludgy, puddle of jello like substance then invite me to a black tie event when I don't own a formal dress. In fact I have never even worn a formal dress, let alone owned one. The invitation alone turned made my insides begin to dissolve into some unrecognizable mess yet alone the process of shopping for said dress.

I was terrified, terrified the way a child is on their first day of school. A bit of excitement, and what if, mixed in with the terror. The feeling that this experience could be memorable or something I never want to remember. I have two weeks to look for a dress and I've decided the dress has to make me feel beautiful or I'm not buying it.

Day 1: I go to a shopping centre but don't enter any dress shops. I have no courage and instead leave thinking, I can't do this, I really can't do this.

Day 7: I get up the courage to try again. I go to three different shops and try on 9 dresses. I won't step out of the dressing room in any of them.

Day 8: I go to one shop. Feel so out of place in my slops and surfer T-shirt, must have looked out of place too because the assistant didn't even pause from dressing the mannequin to give me a disdainful look. Try on zero dresses. Leave the shopping center with three pencils and post-its.

Day 9: I enter countless shops. I try on countless dresses and back away from a few with price tags that are the equivalent of Apple Mac laptop. I leave the centre with one casual skirt and no hope.

Day 10: I duck into two shops quickly while shopping with friends. Try on 3 dresses at the first shop, even quite liked the one but it was a bit daring for me. At the second shop I also try on 3. I was 90% happy with one dress. Left the shopping centre with hope.

Day 11: I return to the shop that had filled me hope and browse for a second time. I comment that I'd rather watch Rugby then shop for a formal dress. I try-on the "90% happy dress" and 3 others. Finally found one that I was 98% happy with. I left the shop with one beautiful, classic formal dress and the sludgy, puddle of jello like substance looking more like a human.

Now the dress is sitting in my cupboard waiting to be worn in a few days time and I wonder why some fabric and a few stitches could make my knees so weak. After all, it's just a dress.

Good Stories

2010-01-04T13:53:00.002+02:00

This morning I finally got round to listening to a CD called Story by The Sout Project. I was sent this CD about 2 months ago but instead of listening to it I took it on a journey. A journey from the post office, to my desk, to my home, to my bedroom, back to work, back to home and finally to the CD player in my car where I finally listened to it on my way to work.

I don't know if I would have paid too much attention to it if it wasn't for the fact that it starts off with a reading, "...Everything can change, if we learn and live a new story... " I was driving when I heard it so I didn't actually stop but I did pay attention. You see I've been thinking a lot about life as a story lately mostly thanks to Donald Miller. I read his book A million miles in a Thousand years, just before Christmas. It's a book about good stories, it's a book about telling good stories with our lives, about how nobody makes a movie of someone waking up, eating, going to work and sleeping. I didn't love the book the way I loved Blue Like Jazz but it did leave me feeling I want to live a good story.

The idea of story came up again yesterday while driving back home after the holidays. My boyfriend mentioned he'd read Donald Miller's blog about New Years resolutions. According to my boyfriend Donald Miller suggested that instead of writing Resolutions, we should write stories. So instead of saying, "I want to lose weight" say "I want to climb Mount Hood" and then visualise yourself looking mean and lean at the top. This struck me because I write goals every year. I don't call them resolutions, I've just discovered if I write down what I want to do that year I'm more likely to get my honours, run 21km or learn french then if I don't. I sat there trying to figure out how to turn those goals into stories, how to turn my day-to-day life into something more than goals, into something with more meaning.

I was thinking about stories when I put The Sout Project into the CD player so the line about stories changing everything struck me. Up until this point when I'd thought of stories I'd really only thought of them in relationship to myself. Am I living a good story? What kind of story am I writing with my life? The CD made me think about the greater ramifications of living a good story not just for myself but for my family, for the church, for the world. Life isn't about me, it's not about me living a good story, because even a good story, is still just a story, if it doesn't step off the page and live in flesh and blood. Which means meeting other characters and sometimes allowing them to take you, or taking them, in directions you might not have otherwise gone.

I think The Sout Project said it well: "Why does the world not change? Why do we keep by living by destructive stories?...Everything can change if we learn and live a new story..." May 2010 be full of good stories for each of you.

Improvement without Inconvenience

2009-12-15T17:51:00.001+02:00

I was driving home with my brother's girlfriend last night and the conversation turned to all the road works they've been doing around where we live. They (the government, I presume) have been working on the roads for over a year and while they must be getting better in the long term, at the moment it feels like the roads are getting worse, much worse. As we spoke I realised that what we really want is improvement without inconvenience.

I realised this isn't only confined to roads but to all areas of our lives. We want to have better relationships with the people close to us but working on it can just seem inconvenient. Just make it better without the work please God. We want to have a better job but we don't want to have to go through the slog of a mundane job to get there. I also realised that improvement very rarely comes without inconvenience because improvement invariably requires hard work, and hard work is just about always inconvenient. Which made me think I am I willing to put up with inconvenience for the sake of improvement? Are you?

The Language of Love & Respect by Emerson Eggerichs

2009-12-15T17:39:00.001+02:00

He wants to be respected.

She wants to be loved.

If he is feeling disrespected the last thing he wants to is show her love.

If she is feeling unloved she will disrespect him.

All of this leads to a crazy cycle where neither person gets what they really want or need respect or love. "The Language of Love & Respect" is all about how to avoid the craziness by helping males and females to communicate better.

If you've read Eggrichs first book, "Love & Respect," then this is building on those principles and giving more practical examples of how love and respect work in real relationships. Personally, I enjoyed "The Language of Love & Respect" more than "Love & Respect". I did find the constant use of acronyms a bit annoying but the broader ideas of how to communicate love (to women) and respect (to men) are simple and straightforward. I’ve been practicing with my boyfriend and our conflict levels have definitely decreased as my ability to show him unconditional respect is improving.

You might think it's a bit odd for me to read this book since I'm not married but my boyfriend and I experience our fair share of conflict and so do my brother. I figure anything that can help me communicate better with almost half the worlds population is worth it. If you’re looking for a quick fix to your marriage or relationship then this isn’t the book for you but if you are sincere about seeing the quality of your relationship improve and petty arguments becoming a thing of the past then I couldn’t recommend this book more highly. I am even thinking of adding it to the wedding gift of one of my closest friends!

Invictus

2009-12-11T10:11:00.000+02:00

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.

by William Ernest Henley; 1849-1903

Invictus Review: A South African perspective

2009-12-08T13:09:00.001+02:00

“What’s past is past. We look to the future now.”

- Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) in “Invictus”

I was 12 the day the Springboks won the 1995 Rugby World Cup. I remember watching Francois Pienaar, the teams Captain, holding the trophy and President Nelson Mandela walking on to the field. I was 12 the day my country changed forever. I didn’t realise it then, but I could feel it, I could feel in the air that my country, South Africa, was a different place and maybe the dream of a rainbow nation, of black people and white people side-by-side wasn’t just a dream but a reality.

Clint Eastwoods latest film, Invictus, tells the inspiring story of how two men came together to make that day happen. Based on actual events from the time, the movie shows how President Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) joined forces with the captain of South Africa’s rugby team, Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon) to help unite a country which was split apart by racial tension and apartheid.

With Mandela’s release in 1990 white fears were exposed and black hope was released. Four years later, Mandela become president of land split apart by these tensions. He was a leader who had spent 27 years on an island prison with only some blankets and a chair, spending his days breaking bricks, and somehow left not harbouring hate but forgiveness and graciousness for the people who had treated him so badly. Invictus reveals Mandela’s insight into human motives and the inspiring role he played in using sport to heal the hurts of a nation.

The film doesn’t feel like a Clint Eastwood movie and I’m not sure whether this a good or bad thing. There are no sweaty Million Dollar Baby close-ups or weepie Bridges of Madison County scenes instead it’s like Clint Eastwood decided not leave his mark on the movie and instead made a more about the story then the director. There is no Eastwood stamp on it and if you’re seeing the movie because it’s a Clint Eastwood film I think you’ll probably be disappointed on the other hand if you’re settling down with a box of popcorn because you want to see a really good story told really well, I think you’ll be well satisfied.

When asked who he would like to play himself if a movie about his life was ever made, Nelson Mandela replied Morgan Freeman. Who could argue with that nod of approval? Morgan Freeman is very convincing in his role, in fact at times I had to look twice to see if Clint Eastwood had used actual footage from 1995, instead of dramatising the scenes. And if you’re wondering about the accents – they’re spot on. In fact, it was the first time I didn’t wince once in a movie portraying South African accents. There also isn’t too much Rugby in the film, it’s there but to be honest, it isn’t the main story and I think the film is richer for it. By removing the focus from the sport Invictus becomes a film about leadership, forgiveness and the opportunity each person has to change the world regardless of their circumstance.

I’ve read a number of American reviews which acknowledge that Morgan Freeman should win an oscar for best actor but then say that the film is boring, that it’s a film about a nation not individual characters and that no one wants to watch a film where the underdog team wins and the crowd goes wild. Funny thing is, from a South African perspective, I really needed to see this movie, and I think the world does too. I think sometimes we need to realise that life isn’t about individual characters, it’s about the community. Francois Pienaar could never have won the world cup on his own, he needed his team; Nelson Mandela could never have united a country on his own, he needed a nation.

I was 27 when I watched Invictus. I remember watching Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman) greet each player by name and Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon) stretching out his arms to almost touch the cell walls of Nelson Mandela’s prison cell. There were tears in my eyes as I thought about how far we have come, speaking to other viewers afterwards there were tears in their eyes too. I could feel in the air that my country, South Africa, is a beautiful, diverse place, with a story that needs to be told and which the rest of the world needs to hear.

Invictus opens in South African cinemas on Friday, 11 December.

Eighth Largest Country in the World

2009-11-27T14:01:00.000+02:00

I read something today that blew my mind. I don't think of orphans a whole lot, I do quite often contemplate adoption, but I never really think of it being a huge problem. Then I read the following at retailroi

By population, orphans would be the 8th largest country in the world:

China 1,321,851,888
India 1,129,866,154
USA 301,139,947
Indonesia 234,693,997
Brazil 190,010,647
Pakistan 169,270,617
Bangladesh 150,448,339
ORPHANS 143,000,000
Russia 141,377,752

Figured that was pretty crazy...Now I just need to work out how to respond.

God is love...but who am I?

2009-11-25T14:30:00.001+02:00

The bible is clear on this one thing...God is love. Everything about him is love, everything he does is love, every response he has is love. I've been pondering this for the last few days. Pondering God as love, God as all the characteristics in 1 Corinthians 13 (discussed this in a previous post), God as a diety who is patient, kind, holds no record of wrongs, never fails and then trying to reflect these characteristics back onto myself.

I've been thinking about how God is love but whether anyone would ever say "Wendy is love" and what that means anyway. I finally decided that it meant that I too would have the characteristics of 1 Corinthians 13. A fine enough thought but I still didn't know how to go about aquiring them. I was stumped. I figured they should just come to me, and maybe I'd pray about it more. And then somehow God would transform me into a more loving person.

However, God obviously figured (in his love) that method might not work so well as during a recent prolonged layover at the airport I stumbled across a book by Dr. Gary Chapman (author of the Five Love Langauges) called "Love as a way of life". The book contains the super cheesy self-help subtitle of 'Seven keys to transforming every aspect of your life' but I couldn't put it down as the back sleeve said that by learning kindness, patience, forgiveness, courtesy, humility, generosity and honesty I could become more loving.

The long and short of it is I bought it and I've read some of the chapters and now I'm trying to live it. I'm especially trying to live it in the office since that is the place I've chosen to try and start my i-heart revolution. It's not been easy. I'm only try to practice kindness and patience at the moment but I've found myself having to slow down a lot and listen before I speak, or sometimes just pause. I'm often impatient with people who drop by without an appointment but today I had the opportunity to practice patience and kindness with one such person. My colleagues couldn't believe their ears. I hope it becomes a habit that I live everyday. A habit of kindness and patience. A habit of love.

Life's Not A Competition

2009-11-19T14:42:00.001+02:00

The first time I got up close and personal with Hillsong United was last year when I was invited to attend a press conference they were holding in Johannesburg, South Africa. I went, but I was very skeptical, from the outside all I'd seen of Hillsong United was flashing lights, big shows and loud music. I was very suprised at the press conference when I found myself responding to them as people. Glimpsing a little bit of the heart behind Hillsong United I realised that they're really not about flashing lights, big shows and loud music. I realised that day Hillsong United were really about God and spreading his love.

Last night, I was invited to watch The I Heart Revolution, "We're all in this together" documentary and once again I went dragging my feet. I thought I'd have to sit through 10 - 12 music videos by the band so I went thinking of an exit strategy. I didn't need it in the end. The film isn't about the music, it's about the stories that every person has to tell and whether each one of us wants to become involved in another's stories or remain in a world where we are number one.

The first thing that gripped me about the film was that they weren't talking about themselves but about God, about love, about being the church. I liked that, it resonated with me, it's what I'm trying to do. And it challenged me. It challenged me to take living love up a notch. It challenged me to open my eyes and my heart a fresh to the people around me and it made me think how I often look at the world upside down. One of the lines in the film that had the most impact me was something along the lines of, "We may be part of the human race BUT it's not a competition."

How different would the world look if we realised that all things should be equal. That if one person wins all the others all lose. It made me think about how Jesus said, "The last shall be first and the first shall be last..." It made me wonder when did we begin to think a new car or a house or the latest brand name clothing, food, technology would help us win the human race? And how different would the world look if we were happy to come in second, happy to share everything we had because having it didn't somehow help us "win".

Somewhere towards the end of the film I started to wonder if I shouldn't play the I-heart Revolution doccie every morning when I wake up to remind me who I am (loved by God) and how I should live (loving others). I wondered if I suffer from some kind of spiritual amnesia like that girl in 50 First Dates who has be reminded about the love that found her and the mess that she can leave behind by watching a video of her life every morning.

After the movie, I went home and prayed God would tattoo love onto my heart so I can never forget that love that he has shown us. Perhaps the Bible says it best: God is Love. Love is God. Puts a whole new slant on that well known scripture in 1 Corinthians 13: 4- 8 doesn't it..."God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. God is not rude, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. God never fails." (NIV Paraphrase) Does that sound like the God you know? Does it sound like the God you are revealing to the world?

For me, The I Heart Revolution, put me in awe again of the love God has for us, his love which can never be measured but only demonstrated, his love which we often toss away in honour of living the "right" way. And the movie made me want to find more practical ways of showing God's love to the people around me. I'm only one person but I can love.

I've decided to start in the work place where I spend most of my day. I asked God what loving people in the office looks like. He replied 1 Corinthians 13:4 - 8: "In the office love is patient, kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. In the office love is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. In the office love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. And love never fails."

I realised love looks the same everywhere. It looks like God. It looks like a man dying on a cross. It looks like a mother holding the hand of a child as they cross the street. It looks like a kid who wasn't being picked on standing up to the school yard bully. Love looks like a meal to starving person. It looks like a kind word in the office. Love looks like me.

If you want more information on the I-heart revolution go to: i-heart.org

The Only One

2009-11-12T16:23:00.001+02:00

Do you ever get those days when you wonder what on earth you are doing with your life? When nothing seems to make sense and you look at your home and your job and your salary and you wonder, “God is this what life is about? Is this what you want from me? Is this why you created me?”

I’ve been having one of those days today. I’ve been having a day when I really don’t like myself. I don’t like what I am doing and I don’t know how to change. I don’t know how to get a life!

Most of the people I know think I have a great job. I’ll meet strangers and they’ll ask me what I do and how I got my job and how they can get one like it. And I have to laugh and tell them how great my job is and how much I love it but inside I know I am lying. And I wish I wasn’t.

There is every reason for me to love my job. Every reason! I have flexible working hours, I work in the TV industry creating a number of different shows, every day is different, I interact with people from many different walks of life. Every reason, but as I drove to work this morning I wondered if this is really all my life is after 27 years. I thought I want more.

I’m probably just having a quarter life crisis. Or maybe just a bad day. My life just isn’t what I thought it would be 10 years ago when I was a brave young (naïve) girl heading out to take on the world. I wanted to do things, big things for God, I don’t know, maybe save a small island nation in the Pacific, single handedly (uh, I mean with Jesus…) or I thought I’d have a couple of sandy haired kids and still somehow manage to make a difference in the world.

But that’s not the way life is…

Instead I’m having a melt-down about whether to work on an international reality show or stay in my job as head of production. I never wanted my life to be all about work. All about making more money. I wanted to be someone who lived against the mandates of culture. I feel stuck in the hole society has created for me. I want to change paths but I can’t seem to see the path and when I can it’s on the other side of a deep chasm.

I shouldn’t be complaining. I have a job and an income and a roof over my head. I should count myself lucky and not feel restless. I feel guilty about my moaning and complaining. I know I am privileged, I know I am more wealthy than over three quarters of the world yet still that voice won’t lay down die. It keeps whispering, “Isn’t there more to life than this?” And I keep shouting back, “YES!”

What am I to do? Do I quit my comfortable, safe job and pursue a life less ordinary. Is that wise, I don’t even know what I’d do. My boyfriend asked me what I wanted to do today. I said I wanted to write. That’s all I want to do. Sit and write. But life doesn’t happen flat on a page or in a studio it happens in 3-D. I know I want to live and travel (but then I feel guilty for travelling for the sake of it when so many people are starving…)

Am I the only one who thinks this way?

Am I the only one having a conflict with myself. The only one who has lived for a couple of decades and is now wondering, what is this whole “life” thing about anyway. If it’s not about cars and houses and jobs then what is it about. If living for Jesus is more than just going to church on Sunday, midweek home group and singing in the worship team then what is life about. If family is about more than just my blood and it involves the neighbours and my enemies and the family down the road who don’t have any food then what is life about.

And how do I live? How do I make a choice between an international production and my daily job? How do I decide whether I should throw it all away? And how do I know where God is? Is he in the dissatisfaction? Is he hiding in the murmurs of “there must be more…there must be more…”

If you find out how to live, if you have life all worked out, would you let me know…and if you think like me…would you let me know so I won’t feel like the only one!

I was dumbstruck.

2009-11-11T16:32:00.001+02:00

I didn't know what to do. The security guard at the complex where I live had just walked over and handed me a card. Not just any card though, his bank card, his debit card. The card that holds the key to all his wealth. I wasn't sure what to do with it and then he told me his pin code and asked me to go to the ATM and draw some money.

I was dumbstruck.

I kept thinking, '...but you're not meant to give your pin to anyone...aren't you scared I'll run off with your money and go live in some Third World Country with a great shoreline...you can't just give me your pin!" Not sure what to say and realising the security guard probably needed the money today and didn't have any other way to get it. I decided to take the card and the pin code and head to the nearest airport to purchase a ticket.

While I was driving to the ATM the thought kept running through my mind that there is no way I would give my bank card to the security guard so why is he trusting me? I thought about how ridiculous that is since I trust him to look after all my possessions and my life day after day but I wouldn't trust him with my bank account.

I was dumbstruck.

Is God Listening?

2009-11-05T15:18:00.001+02:00

I had a hard time reaching God this morning. There was just so much noise around. Not the type of noise you can just switch off though, the kind of noise that runs like a school yard of screaming children from left ear to right ear, and the worst part is it's all in your head. The noise I couldn't mute was the sound of to-do lists and worries and half-written articles. Through all the noise in my head I was trying to talk to God but he seemed too far away or maybe I was just too far away.

I tried closing my eyes and praying.
I attempted journalling.
I whispered prayers.
I tried opening my eyes and reading prayers.
I played with my hair like prayer beads.
I sat still.
I tried to focus on God.
I said "Jesus" over and over.
I gave up.

I told God I couldn't pray this morning. And I wondered how to make the noise in my head the prayer that comes out my mouth. I hoped that God accepted the millions of thoughts falling through my head as prayers. I'm sure he did.

Eight centuries of India in two hundred and forty hours

2009-10-27T09:43:00.011+02:00

We stand to leave and our guide stops us. “You don’t come here every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year. Sit! It took 22 years to build the Taj Mahal and you can’t even sit and enjoy it for 60 minutes.” Bashful, we sit back down and take in the sight of white marble rising in soft peaks like meringue towards a clear Indian sky. An hour later, our wizened guide, Mr. Kahn, asks if we are ready to leave. We reply in the affirmative. He says, “Five more minutes…then we go.”

If you’d told me ten days earlier that I would spend a morning watching the sunrise over the Taj Mahal I would have told you a tale of work deadlines and impossibility. You see, ten days before I had no notion of going to India. It was during an opportune moment I spotted an advert for a trip to India and said to my boyfriend, “Shall we go? I know, it’s Monday and we’d have to be at the airport on Friday and we still have to get visa’s and plane tickets and leave but what if we just did it? What if we went to India and visited the Taj Mahal and went on a tiger safari?”

Five days later we found ourselves boarding a plane headed for Delhi via the desert city of Dubai. Everything had been a rush. We’d sped from the embassy clutching our visa’s to the travel agent to finalise some details, stood under a shower for a few seconds, bundled clothes into a bag without thinking and raced against time to the airport.

It had been dark for hours by the time we walked onto Indian soil for the first time but night had done nothing to suck the heat out of the Delhi air. Wall after wall of muggy heat hit us, as we followed our driver through polluted night skies to our parked (and thankfully air-conditioned) taxi. I had no idea what to expect as we drove past a line of old-fashioned cars and their for-hire drivers. The trip had been so spontaneous and rushed that I’d no time to form preconceptions of the country, no time to create an image of India that would suit me. All I had were vague notions of a continuous crush of one billion people, pushing and tugging and moving me around, and the mouth-watering thought of curry, and lots of it.

There was no curry that night though, just bed, and a merciful 9:30am rising time for our first glimpse of Delhi in day light. Our hotel was down a side road in the area of Karol Bagh, which you’ll find on a map of New Delhi, and which used to be a residential area before it turned into a popular retail area selling everything from silverwork to sari’s and chapatti’s. Taking a tuk-tuk, or auto rickshaw as the locals call it, from our hotel door to old Delhi we spent a morning exploring the red and white Jama Masjid, followed by the streets and alley ways of the retail centre of Old Delhi before heading to India Gate and the Gandhi Memorial Gardens.

Our whirlwind tour of Delhi over, we found ourselves on the train to Agra, roughly 200km south of Delhi, and the home of the Taj Mahal. As the train pulled out of the station we chugged past people using the train tracks as a toilet, oblivious to the train rolling by just meters away. The incessant Delhi smog began to lift as we trundled past farmers doing chores, young boys playing cricket and women in brightly coloured sari’s collecting wood. The train finally pulled to a stop in Agra and we headed out to find a taxi that could take us to our hotel.

If you think that Agra is just the Taj Mahal you will be missing out on some of the greatest Mughal architecture of the region. The Mughal’s first set up their Imperial kingdom seat here in 1526 constructing not only the Agra Fort and the Taj Mahal but also Fatehpur Sikri where we spent the afternoon wandering through the red sandstone building. I wondered what it would have been like to live their in the 1500’s when the inhabitants even had a primitive form of air conditioning installed to keep the 3 wives and 49 concubines cool. Agra, was a mix of delights and hardship, on one hand you run into all this beautiful architecture and marble handiwork, quaint testimonies to love and marriage and then on the other you walk through streets where the smell of ammonia greets you like a friend you are trying to avoid.
I could never quite fathom whether I loved Agra or was repelled by it. I was drawn to the Taj Mahal, with love carved in each crevice of the building, love drawn down from the sky to the reflection in the water and then love laid to rest side-by-side and encircled with flowers of up to sixty separate precious stone fragments. On the other hand there was the city its self which was disorientating and forgotten love in a tangle of streets and monuments.

Leaving behind the Taj Mahal we headed into Tiger territory and the small, rural town of Sawai Madhopur. Our aim was to see a tiger in the wild. A feat which proved impossible in the two short days we had in the area. It seemed everywhere we went someone had seen a tiger “yesterday”. We visited a Hindi temple at sunset, and were told how just a few days before a tiger had walked up the side of the mountain and through the temple, but the evening we were there only Rhesus monkeys played.

The quiet and relative cool of Sawai Madhopur was hard to leave as our train, the Mumbai Super Fast, pulled out of the station headed for Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan province. I knew once back in the city the sound of birds would disappear, there would be no stars to glimpse at night and we’d once again be greeted by the fragrance of ammonia round every other street corner. A few short hours later we heaved our backpacks on our back and exited the train in search of auto-rickshaw’s to take us to our hotel before heading out for some bargaining in the Pink City. Everywhere you walked, up-and-down the street young and old shopkeepers kept bidding for your attention holding out their wares saying, “Looking is free!”

After a night sleeping in 32 degree Celsius heat we spent the following day sight-seeing Jodhpur. The Jantar Mantar observatory and The City Palace, provided the mornings viewings followed by a lunch in the Palace Café – after all eating in a Palace isn’t an everyday occurrence for me. The afternoon was spent exploring the Meherangarh Fort, which although uninhabited provides the visitor with an idea of the war, honour and extravagance which once characterised the Rajputana. There is a rumour that the Kings war chest filled with jewels and precious metals still lies somewhere below its fortresses. We, however, were not lucky enough to find it on our visit.

Our final day dawned in Jaipur and we made our way to the bus station for our trip back to Delhi. Our spontaneous trip was about to come to an end. I sat on the bus absorbed as much as I could of the Indian culture around me. The water buffalo immersed in the water, the camels tugging wooden carts laden with anything from straw to people, women in appearing like colourful wild flowers with babies in arms or baskets on their heads, traffic jostling for no particular place and people everywhere you look. We only had a 15 more hours to take in eight centuries of India and I wasn’t going to miss a thing!

Anything with God. Nothing for Him.

2009-10-23T10:55:00.001+02:00

I had church last night. Only it wasn’t what a lot of my friends call church. I was a stranger at this church. We met in home, twenty or so of us, some sitting on couches, some positioned on the floor. We didn’t sing, no one preached and no one took an offering, but God was there. And I found my heart responding to Him in a new way, my soul agreeing with the conversation going on around me; it was so freeing to sit with people who didn’t view Church as an “event” which happens on Sunday but as a life that we live with God.

We were meeting in someone’s lounge because we had all heard that the publisher of “The Shack” and the author of “So you don’t want to go to church anymore?” would be there. My boyfriend and I didn’t know what to expect. I just knew that as I had read “So you don’t want to go to church anymore?” I had found somebody who was expressing thoughts I’d held in my head before. Thoughts about expectations and religion that I’m so often scared to express out loud.

I imagine church last night was a bit like a meeting with Paul of the New Testament would have been. Wayne Jacobsen (http://www.lifestream.org/index.php) and his wife, Sara, arrived and there was a kind of awkwardness while all these people who hadn’t met before tried to decide what to do. Somebody said something about a ‘meeting’, someone else said I just thought it was a conversation and Wayne said, “Let’s talk!” What ensued were some clumsy questions: “How was the flight?”, “How do you like South Africa?”, “Where are you all from?”

Then somehow the mood changed and we started conversing about God, about community, about Christian life the way God intended us to discover it, about journeys and freedom from religion. A few things stood out for me that Wayne said. One was that we should be people who are willing to do anything WITH God but nothing FOR him. After all we’re not earning our salvation; God in his Grace has already given that to us.

Wayne spoke a bit about how religion has perverted our view of God into someone who is waiting to smite us. He mentioned a book by Darin Hufford (The Misunderstood God) who has written a book about how we say that God is Love but then we don’t expect him to actually have the characteristics of One Corinthians Thirteen. We don’t expect God to be patient and kind and keep no record of wrongs. Ironically enough we work really hard at being all these things ourselves…

Another was that “Religion does not love what it does not condone.” But that Jesus didn’t have a problem with loving all the people that religion did not condone: the prostitute, the thief and the adulterer. On the way home, my boyfriend and I were chatting about this statement, “Really all God wants us to do is Love. I don’t know why we don’t get it, even Jesus replied when asked what the greatest commandment is, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul and love your neighbor as yourself.’ But we’ve introduced all these rules and ways to make God happy.” It’s all about love!

Wayne and his wife related how their son had brought his girlfriend home and they asked her if she had any kind of spirituality. She said, “Yes, I’m a Buddhist.” When she left, his wife turned to him and said, “How do you feel about our son dating a Buddhist?” And Wayne replied, “I think we’re the best type of family for a Buddhist to be learning about God with.” What a challenge to be church of people who just love. Who realize, we don’t have the responsibility to change people around us, that’s Gods job, God has only called us to love the people around us, and to do that with him, not for him.

Jesus doesn’t care who you sleep with*

2009-10-20T15:36:00.002+02:00

Recently, I spoke to a friend who told me she likes (really, really likes) a guy who is not a Christian. She told me that she wants to date him. She told me she doesn’t care he isn’t a Christian. Then she told me if he wants to sleep with her while they’re dating she will. I listened. She thanked me for not judging her. She told me she couldn’t speak to any other Christians about this because they make her feel like what she wants to do is wrong. She told me she feels so lonely and she just wants to feel loved. I listened. I filtered. I questioned.

I asked her, “Have you asked God what he thinks about this guy that you like (really, really like?)”

She said, “No, I don’t speak to God anymore, I haven’t for a year. I am really angry with him. So I decided there was no point in praying anymore.”

“Whoa!” I said, “I actually don’t really care if you date this guy or not, or even if you sleep with him, what really worries me is where you are at with God. I know you don’t think it matters if you talk to God or not. I know that you don’t think God cares about you but whether you like it or not a broken relationship with God will affect everything.”

“I know, I know,” she replied, “but God didn’t have time for me so I don’t have time for him. I’ve been telling him for years that I don’t want to be alone and he isn’t listening. He wants me to be lonely. If he didn’t he would have sent someone by now.”

“Or maybe, he wanted you to himself…maybe he wanted you to take all those lonely feelings and hopes and dreams and dump them on him?” I almost whispered. “Maybe he wasn’t out to get you, as much as he was out to have you for his own.”

“No, he doesn’t care. And I’m just so angry with him I can’t talk to him!”

“Okay, I’m going to give you some homework, this afternoon find a place where you are all alone and get really angry with God,” I suggested. “He’s big enough for all our anger. Yell, scream, break things, if you have to, but open that conversation with him and see what he says.”

Later, I was thinking about this conversation and about how church doesn’t really work. This friend of mine does all the “right” Christian things (you know, she’s on the worship band, she goes to church every Sunday, attends small-group every week) yet her heart is so hard towards Jesus and none of her “church” friends (me included) knew this or even bothered to ask.

Church isn’t meant to be people who mask our brokenness with good acts. It’s meant to be the place where we can freely say, “I want to sleep with that guy”, “I have slept with that girl”, “I drank too much last night” or “I lied to my colleague about that project!” It’s meant to be a place where we don’t wear these things as a badge of honour but with a spirit of confession. Church isn’t meant to be about perfect people but about confessed people. We should be able to say these things, our secrets, our sins, our mistakes, and receive love and acceptance from Jesus (and church people) when we do.

Think for a moment about Jesus. About all of the confessions, secrets, mistakes and hopes he must have heard. Think for a moment of the woman who Jesus met (John Eight verse Two to Eleven) who was about to be stoned for sleeping with a man who was not her husband. I bet all the people with rocks in their hands wanted to know who she slept with and how many times. They wanted to know all the details of her dirty little secret. They weren’t interested in her broken heart that tried to make itself whole through a midnight tryst or two. They weren’t interested in the broken woman who stood before them with a hole her sexual liaisons hadn’t been able to fill. They were only interested in her sin because it had sullied the walls of their whitewashed temple and had broke the laws that kept them Jewish.

Into the fray came Jesus. He came to not only save the girl from her sin but to save all the men holding stones from their hypocritical lives. Jesus came with love, tenderness and tact. He did not scream and shout – he quieted them with his love – and after he had loved them, he said “Now, go and sin no more.” Love, not judgment, goes before a changed life. Brokenness, not perfection, goes before a changed life. Think for a moment about Jesus. Who wouldn’t tell someone, who would love you into wholeness every secret, mistake and hope you’ve ever had?

So what has happened to us? When did we become the people who never need fixing, confession or healing (of course, there’s the odd case of spiritual pride but besides that only perfect people attend church?) When did the church become the people who turn Jesus away when he offers to take all our secrets and hurts and pain? When did the church become the people who care more about who our friends do or don’t sleep with then if their hearts are finding Jesus? And the final question: How do we change?

Recently, I spoke to a friend who told me he likes (really, really likes) a girl who is struggling to be a Christian. He told me that he wants to tell her how much he loves her. He told me he doesn’t care she is struggling to be a Christian. Then he told me, he will have her just like she is now, with all her secrets, mistakes and hopes. I listened. He told me how this girl he likes (really, really likes) wants to sleep with a guy who he doesn’t know. He told me how this girl doesn’t talk to him anymore and how sad that makes him feel. He told me his name was Jesus. I listened. I filtered. I questioned.

*[Note for all those people who will jump down my not so liberal throat] The Bible is very clear about who you should have sex with: your spouse. And under what circumstances this should take place: within marriage. The point of this article is not to give anyone license to sleep around but rather to remind us (people who call themselves Christians) that next time you’re dealing with a friend who has had sex outside of marriage or is contemplating it, that their relationship with Jesus is more important then whether or not they’ve had sex.

Some of Wendy Harbottle’s earliest memories are in church. The granddaughter of a Pentecostal pastor, and daughter of parents who have always been in some kind of missional Christian service, she has somewhat of a love-hate relationship with the institutional church.