Lay-over life lessons

The more one travels, the more the concept of “destination” changes.

Arrivals become a springboard for inevitable departures. Destination becomes a word for “temporary haven”, as the next journey offers a new place to aim for.

I appreciate international airports for the life lessons that hide in 6 hour-lay-overs.

There are worse places in the world to have to hang around for than Paris Charles de Gaulle airport.

All the macarons and croissants and perfumes that your heart could desire.

Comfortable seating. Plugs to charge your stuff.

Good looking strangers that smile readily.

What’s not to like?

The thing is, though.

It’s the in-between. The pause.

It is not the place to unpack, or to spend the entire trip budget.

It’s the place to try and catch up on some sleep. Rest. Prepare.

Which is probably what one needs to do with all seasons in life that feels like you are neither here, not there …

There is an element of trust required to enjoy lay-overs.

Trust that there will be a next plane.

That the best is yet to come. That the purpose of the journey will still be fulfilled.

This is why I appreciate 6 hour lay-overs in a place where I cannot afford to even walk through the shops in case they charge me for looking …

It reflects certain aspects of a season I feel like I’ve been stuck in way longer than I ever wanted to be, back to me.

And I take courage.

For God knows the plans He has for me.

Even when feeling confined to a holding space where Paris is so close, but yet so far away …

Hint. This is all metaphor. Except the croissant thing. I actually did have one of those.

Selah.

Run your own pace

I don’t really know where people got the idea that sport is a new thing in my life.

I come from a family of sportspeople.

My mom swam provincially and nationally, and was also our swimming coach and number one supporter. My dad and uncles played rugby provincially, and nationally. Uncles and aunts and cousins did athletics provincially and nationally. My sister was victrix ludorum of both our primary school and high school swimming teams (I had it once in primary school … and then she came along … 🙂 ). And I … well, I saved lives provincially, and nationally, actually. As in, for real. Freshwater lifesaving. That was my thing. That, and normal sprint swimming. 50m and 100m breaststroke, to be precise. And I actually made it to the play-offs for the national junior netball team … once …

I was a sport girl at school. Training 3 hours per day for most days of my school career, either in the pool or on the netball field.

But running … ?

I made the B-team of our high-school athletics team. For shot-put and long-jump. I only did it to be able to ride in the back of the bus for tours to Rob Ferreira. A lot happens in those 3 hours  from Pretoria to White River … :).

Running is not my A-game.

My joints react better to water than to tar.

But somewhere around standard 9 (grade 11), my mind got tired of podiums and performance. I know exactly when, actually.

So I stopped being the sport-girl, and climbed into culture and academic girl character. Where I stayed for most of varsity as well. Still played the odd social netball game. But my sport commitment faded to later only supporting Tuks rugby …

And then, we grow up.

The school and varsity activity networks that help us be disciplined in developing and using our talents disappear.

And our bodies?

Well, our bodies still need to move. Actually, we need it more now than then. We need to steward our physical wellness …

Running is not the thing I am good at.

But running is the thing I now do with my friends. Friends who taught me that we don’t run to necessarily be the best.

We run to be present. To remember who we are. To push our comfort zones. To look after our bodies. To have important conversations. To be outside. To encourage one another.

To have fun.

Sport is not my new thing.

But sport for fun, and not for performance? That’s new.

It took a really long time to get the pressure of unhealthy performance out of me.

That’s why I don’t aim to ever run 21km in under 2 hours, necessarily.

My soul needs to stay with my body.

It took a long time for it to catch up from where I left it in standard 9, in Hillcrest swimming pool, after a false start in the South African championships …

Selah.

Growing in Emotional Intelligence by heeding the counsel of trigger points

I’ve always been pretty big on listening to trigger points.

The stuff that makes you almost involuntarily react when someone says or does something that (often accidentally) triggers a negative emotion in your soul.

It’s pretty much like accidentally poking a finger in a bruise. It might not be an open wound anymore, but the moment you touch it or hit it against something, you realize that there might still be some scarred tissue that needs healing.

It might be another person that does something, or a particular environment that brings back a memory.

The other person very seldom realizes that what they’re doing or saying is having this effect on you, so I have taught myself to not react immediately, but to first try and figure out why exactly I was angry / sad / hurt / offended / or just plain irritated.

It’s good to take time to analyze trigger points. Otherwise you might find yourself reacting to something, or someone, that isn’t the actual issue. It’s often referred pain.

Somewhere, something went wrong. You were disappointed. Embarrassed. Hurt. Shamed. Dishonored. In whichever degree that might have happened.

Yes, we forgive. We get over ourselves. We heal. We move on.

But sometimes a trigger point hits a nerve-ending and reveals a part of your soul that still needs to be restored from whatever that past pain may have been. Sometimes a trigger point hits at an offense you didn’t even know you took. Some bitterness that you never realized had taken root.

This is why I am thankful for trigger points. I want that rubbish out of my garden.

I recently needed to deal with not being a priority to someone that I wanted to be a priority to.

I realized that I connect being a priority to being valued, so not being prioritized feels to me like not being valued … which is an old self-worth issue scar on my heart.

When I took the step back and asked myself why I was disappointed by the particular scenario, I needed to have that slightly awkward honest conversation with myself. Again.

I probably had expectations of being valued in ways that this particular someone never signed up for.

So, I repented of those misplaced expectations, which I chose to see as the shrapnel still left after some idols blew up in my life not too long ago.

Sorry for being slightly cryptic … but the point should be rather obvious.

I had uncommunicated and unfounded expectations of being important enough to change plans for. It lead to me feeling unfairly disappointed in not being prioritized. It hit at the value thing. Which should not be found merely in human affection anyway …

Me being disappointed by not being a priority had nothing to do with anyone intentionally trying to hurt me. If I had reacted to the person they would have had no idea where my reaction came from.

It would have been totally unfair of me to place the weight of my past disappointments on this unsuspecting human.

Disappointments are meant to be carried to Jesus.

No one else can deal with hurt like the one who made the heart. He heals by applying the light of truth and the balm of grace.

The only One who values human hearts to the point of literally dying for them.

Talk about being prioritized.

So, I flew to Jakarta. Cried uncontrollably for China. Which evolved into crying for other things unrelated to China.

It’s sometimes hard to tell exactly why your heart is breaking.

Then I stopped crying. And left it there. Safely in the care of God’s promises over my life.

The wisdom is this:

When something triggers a negative emotion in your soul, seemingly “out-of-the-blue” … take a step back and try and figure out what the nerve-ending may actually be exposing.

Emotional intelligence relates very much to knowing why you’re feeling what you’re feeling, and dealing with the reasons for those emotions in a healthy, respectful (to self) and considerate (to others) way.

Get the Holy Spirit in on what’s really bugging you as you wrestle with your own heart in your inner room, or seek counsel if it’s too complicated or painful to get a handle on by yourself.

Then, put your big boy/girl pants on.

And face the music again.

Truth = Freedom.

Selah.

Reflection narratives … #YLG2016

In the past week, since arriving back home after YLG2016, I have had quite a few opportunities to tell people about the time spent in Jakarta with amazing people from across the world.

As is the case with all stories that get retold a few times … the more we tell them, the more they get distilled to their essence. Or elaborated upon. I shall refrain from the latter, and attempt the former …

So, as I reflect on what I tell people about what made YLG2016 a significant experience for me personally, I realise I basically keep coming back to the following overall narratives:

The global Church is much bigger, more diverse and vibrant than what most people realise. Jesus is famous around the world. He is loved and served in nations and worshiped in ways that many of us have never even considered. Distant islands know His Name … His Kingdom is expanding, and He brings life where He is believed … this was evident for me in all the conversations I had. Yes, there are many people who haven’t heard, or don’t believe, the Story. But those who do are multitudes. Thousands upon ten-thousands.

The revelation of Jesus as Messiah transcends language, culture, nationality etc. People who don’t speak or understand English or Afrikaans come to the knowledge of Christ … this sounds silly to say … but I think we sometimes confuse an intellectual understanding of the concept of religion, wrapped in our own language, with the true knowledge of Christ as He is revealed during the personal process of conversion. Being with other believers who see the same God as me with their hearts, and share the same faith despite the fact that we don’t share a language, strengthened my faith, and humility, immensely.

People are responding to the Gospel in nations that few of us would consider “open” to Christianity. Believers from China, North Korea, Benin, Egypt, Morocco, Syria … people who know that their personal safety is potentially at risk when they share their faith with their neighbors … yet, they do. Compelled by love.

The currencies of faith, hope and love transcend the perceived limitations faced when desiring to make a difference in this world. If God gives someone a vision to start a  Biblical worldview university in a predominantly Muslim nation … He provides. We experienced the results firsthand. If God gives someone a dream to see their nation restored after a genocide … He heals wounds. We heard the testimonies firsthand. If God asks someone to forgive those who persecuted them for their faith … He gives the strength needed to love. We heard the stories. The limitations and challenges are always evident. But faith, hope, and love … wins.

From a practical, planning, event and communication perspective, the conference experience raised the excellence bar. I have to give honour where honour is due. From a pure event planning and communication management perspective (the stuff I notice by nature of my training…), I have not yet experienced this level of professionalism and attention to detail. I learned so much about how things should be done by just observing how YLG2016 was put together. Spirit-saturated excellence. Thank you, team!

My self-centredness was very much in my face. In the presence of so many people living (and willing to die) for the Gospel, one cannot but be confronted with your own self-centredness. I live in Stellenbosch. We have it easy. It is beautiful. Comfortable. Life can very easily just be about maintaining this lifestyle, with going to church thrown in on a Sunday as another great place to connect with friends. I was stumped by questions like: Who are the people you serve? Who are the people you dream for? I was faced with my blatantly self-absorbed, often self-pitying prayers … where it’s all about me, Jesus … #somethingtoworkon

Missional Christians are lovely. There are few things better than being around someone who really does have a heart to selflessly love and serve. I connected with new friends, and shared brief moments of being loved, appreciated and encouraged. No one had anything to gain from being nice to me … yet everyone was. Imagine a world where all people are like that all the time … That would most certainly help to experience shalom on earth, as it is in heaven. Also, people who dream about a world restored to its original created purpose, willing to fight for it in the Spirit and contend for it in the natural. Invested in community. Invested in relationships. Invested in mission. Invested in knowing God, His Word and His will.

Obviously, there’s more …

But these are some of the overall themes that I can tell you more about if you want to have coffee :).

Discipleship is, after-all, not a mass-media-mediated process …

Selah.

First thoughts … #YLG2016

I call them clarity-droplets.

They’re the small, clear thoughts that pinpoint the heart of a matter.

Sometimes they drop in my mind in the form of a single word. Sometimes they’re picture metaphors that help to unravel complexity. Sometimes they’re just a distilled, felt knowing.

Insight. One of the attributes that describes the work of the Spirit of God.

To bring clarity.

To help us make sense.

It’s always one of the first things I ask for in any situation. I pray for insight. To be able discern what the essence of issues are. To know what the reasons are for emotions. To understand the underlying fundamentals that lead to certain results. The core of something that remains after the layers of complexity has been peeled off.

I like to get to the point, in other words.

I desire insight.

So, after being in a context like the mind-blowing time just spent with 1 000 other people from around the world in Jakarta for the Lausanne Younger Leaders Gathering (YLG2016), my mind is furiously processing the information overload to try and distill the key take-out insights of the amazing experience for me.

Here are a few rough diamonds so long:

One of the concepts that that stood out for me during the first evening worship was KING.

I was suddenly fascinated by a multitude of different people, from 150 nations, identifying themselves with one King.

It is a peculiar thought with far reaching implications. Consider it for a minute.

One King. Have we thought about what that would be like, what that is like?

Another thought that struck me during one of the Bible expositions was that Yahweh created everything for Yeshua. A simple “It’s all about You, Jesus” … is the most true line to sing. All for Jesus. Your life. My life. Earth. Galaxies.

It puts things into perspective.

Here’s another profound shared thought, should you consider yourself a prophet: The test of a true prophet is how clearly they point to Jesus. Nothing else really counts. It’s simple, really.

That’s pretty profound.

Another theme that kept jumping out a me through the entire conference was the call of the Church to partner with Spirit to restore Shalom on earth as it is in Heaven, as it was known by Adam and Even in the Garden of Eden, and as it is foretold in the vision of the New Jerusalem in Revelation.

Shalom. More than just peace. Wholeness. Order. Everything as it should be.

My favorite quote from the conference, from Rene Breuel: “We need to plant spiritual gardens in the middle of global cities where people can flourish through hope, worship, and being a witness. We need to live conscious of the new creation, just around the corner.”

The evening that stood out for me most was Sunday evening. We prayed for the twelve regions of the world.

It has happened on one or two prior occasions. My heart simply breaks. Involuntarily. Then I just weep without really knowing what for. When we started to pray for China and the persecuted church, it happened again. I started to weep, and it continued for about two days.

It’s probably called something like intercessory lament, if you needed a label.

My heart was very fragile for the remainder of the conference. I would be sitting in a coffee shop, then something triggers it again, and I would be siting there, crying my eyes out.

Hence the slightly more introverted approach to the second half of the conference.

Which did help with a few other less program content related observations that I will be exploring in follow up blogs.

Now I first need to catch the final flight of what I am calling the long road home.

Wherever that may be.

Selah.

When the world seemed near

I am in a Starbucks Coffee shop on a university campus in Indonesia. As we speak. So to say.

It feels absolutely normal to be in a coffee shop on a university campus in Indonesia. As if Indonesia is not the other side of the world to where I would normally be on a Sunday afternoon.

Over the past few days I have had the joy of spending time with more or less 1 000 people who have been invited to be at a Lausanne Younger Leaders Gathering in Jakarta as upcoming leaders in their respective contexts, who for all practical purposes technically speaking basically share the same faith.

This faith.

This strange mutual knowing that somehow, the story about a Man that lived and taught people in Israel over 2 000 years ago, is a true story. The story of an unfair trial, leading to a blameless man suffering and dying on a cross, resulting three days later in an empty grave, with the implication that human sin and God’s wrath has been atoned for.

A weird conviction that belief in this story means that personal relationship with Yahweh is possible, without religion, through simply acknowledging the inefficiency of human efforts to deal with sinful human nature, and accepting the gift of salvation and redemption by the blood of Jesus. Receiving his Spirit as a seal to the promise of eternal life, and the empowerment to actually change.

To be new. Alive. Forever.

A strange shared agreement that the Book in which His story is written also contains other holy narratives, and that these narratives need to be explored with the help of His Spirit, in order to know what it means to associate with and live in His continuing story. That His Name is the only fame really worth promoting.

A bunch of super friendly people with kind eyes from different corners of the globe. All somehow convinced that they have a mutual Father. Who sent Jesus to die for humanity so that we can be a family.

That they have a King. That we are a Kingdom.

These are far-fetched thoughts. Where did they come from?

Being here gives me one of the most beautiful pictures of the multifaceted beauty of the global church. The church of Jesus Christ is massive. Make no mistake about that. If you are a Christian, be encouraged by this reality. But also be humbled. Your ministry, however significant, is not it. Your local church, or even your multi-national church-planting global movement, is not it. Thankfully.

I have had casual conversations with people from some of the most remote regions of the world. His Church is there, in some form or expression of Love. This is not a human strategy. We are all significant. None of us are it, though.

I like that.

It is breathtaking to see how He has revealed Himself to people in world regions that I have never even heard of. And this small picture that I see here, at this gathering, is literally just a drop in the ocean of His fragrance in the world.

That being said.

I must make a really honest confession.

I am not a very good intentional evangelist.

It does not really have any effect on me when someone, even with high emotion, tells me that people are going to hell, and that is why I need to travel to remote parts of the world to climb mountains to tell them about Jesus.

It just does not move me to actually do it.

For one, language barriers. For two, lack of leave days left.

I guess I’m being too practical about all of this. Or maybe we need to all just do what we’re supposed to.

I guess I’m not moved easily by human persuasion. It will probably take the Holy Spirit’s direct revelation to get me to do something.  And I guess this is a good thing.

I remember being fiercely radical. Attending hari krishna meetings on campus to sing in tongues as they beat their drums, binding spirits and rebuking lies … and stuff like that. In all seriousness.

Sorry … I’m praying about the lack of love in my heart that makes me react obstinately to being “charged to go and preach …” 🙂

Or perhaps, it’s a gap in my theology that results in me not being compelled to chase down random people with a message that I simply find impossible to reduce into a short conversation with a stranger, in a language that I cannot speak, with a salvation prayer as end-goal.

I’m not saying it shouldn’t be done. It has to.

I might not be the one doing it in that way just yet.

In fact, I probably haven’t formally shared the Gospel with anyone who didn’t explicitly ask me to tell them about my personal relationship with God.

Because I just find it such a mystery, this whole life-journey of having a personal relationship with God.

Listen, don’t get me wrong.

I want people to know Jesus.

But I want them to KNOW Jesus.

And I’m still figuring out what that means. And how to actually introduce people in a way that is not rehearsed. I guess I’m figuring out how to be an authentic message bearer.

I know I will go.

In response to love and personal conviction. Not fear.

I just find it very difficult to relay the personal reality of about 25 years of mysterious relationship with a Living Spirit. Especially since there have also been times when I doubted His reality, questioning my own sanity.

I guess it’s really hard to relay deep conviction in a way that people do not take offense.
So, no offense meant to the hardcore evangelists who burn with a passion to climb mountains in remote nations to spread the Gospel. I have much respect for your dedication. Please continue to challenge me.

Just know that there are delicate prophets who sometimes believe that simply being in worship at the feet of Jesus in a place changes the spiritual atmosphere :).

All of that being said.

Being here, with fellow pilgrim-people, helps me see Him more clearly, as He is expressed in the beauty of diverse people who choose to love and serve.

I have not found another message that explains the original purpose of Man in a more appealing way than how the Bible does.

The Shalom of Yeshua speaks to my heart and mind in ways that no other worldview does.

Being with people who did not come to faith in Him in any way remotely close to how I did, reminds me of the universal miracle of revealed Truth of Grace.

I hope to one day be better at intentionally fishing for souls. To actually feel like I belong at a conference for global Christian mission leaders.

I hope to one day also say with integrity that my heart breaks for those who do not have this Shalom as their reality.

My heart simply does not break because of hell.

My heart simply sings because of heaven.

I hope that I may in some small way be a honest vessel of His Shalom in this world, in whichever way He orchestrates, walking out my salvation, to the unforced rhythms of His grace.

A beautiful world reflected in the faces of people walking by, observed through the window of a coffee shop, on the other side of the world.

Selah.

Eendag, as

Eendag, wanneer …
oormore, as …

Die voorwaardes wat ons voorhou
vertraag soms die vertrou-tree
wat na gelang van geloof
water loopbaar maak.

Om vir wysheid te wag is wesenlik.
Maar om oor wense te weën is nie wag nie.
Dis net ’n verskoning
vir nie kies nie.

Wense sug net
oor keuses
en planne
wat nie gemaak word nie.

Lewe is keuse.
Liefde lei.
Keuse is koers.
Kies is rigting kry.

Vorentoe.

Die lewe is nou.

Nie eendag nie.

Awake, my soul.

Selah.

Facing vulnerability

I think we underestimate how much we dislike feeling vulnerable.

Vulnerability is not really something humans naturally display. We actually fight very hard to not show vulnerability.

My heart-aches and soul-wars teach me a lot about this stuff, if I just take the time to figure out what they’re trying to yell at me through all the shots that I seem to be taking …

For example, I’ve wondered why I despise that part at weddings, just when the dance floor has been opened. I always seem to find a reason to run to the loo for those first few songs, until the loose-dance crowd gets going.

Then it dawned on me. One of the challenges of being single and female, is living with the perception that you have to wait for a man to ask you to dance. To do anything vaguely romantic, actually. Which often leaves you in a very vulnerable space. Not just is it frustrating to want to do something but having to wait for someone else to choose you before anything can happen, it is also very vulnerable. What if no one ever asks …?

That awkward time at a wedding amplifies the feeling of being left helpless and vulnerable at the mercy of someone elses choice. And I happen to not like that feeling very much. It makes me want to cry. Or run very far away, where no one sees the embarrassing ache. #vulnerable.

That’s not a very feminist view of the world. I know. I don’t seem to have a very feminist view of the world when it comes to this stuff. I’m not saying I’m right. I’m just saying what I have found to be real experiences. I believe that men and women have different roles in relationships. I have tried to “go after what I want” in relationships. It simply hasn’t worked. Hence, back to waiting. And being vulnerable.

It is vulnerable to have to wait.

It is vulnerable to have to seem like the desire for romance and marriage is not that important.

Listen, it is important. Not all-consuming. But actually, really important.

I am getting tired of (and actually, slightly pissed-off at) people telling my older single friends (and myself), to “just don’t get desperate.”

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep hope alive, and not seem “desperate” in the process of pursuing (or freakin intentionally not pursuing, what-the-hell ever) male friendships that could lead to romance?

Do you have any idea how vulnerable it is to “show interest”, but being very much aware that it will probably freak someone out when they realize that you’re trying to show interest?

Especially, it seems, if Cilnette Pienaar is the one showing the interest.

Be that as it may.

I’m learning that feeling vulnerable often causes me to go into combat mode. And let’s just be real, my combat mode is not exactly conducive for inviting affection. I get moerse feisty, spike-walls go up, lioness-claws come out. Intellect and big words and big personality get put on hyper-display.

Which basically always has the complete opposite effect of what I actually want.

You know what? It’s all actually just a very pathetic attempt at hiding the fact that my heart feels vulnerable. And I don’t know what to do with that feeling. So I kick fiercely at whatever is causing the feeling. To make it stop.

Point being.

I’m not doing very well with being vulnerable on ground-level at the moment, even if my words are brave.

I need to deal with this very deep-seated fear.

Of loosing control.

Of being seen.

Of being disappointed, again.

Of being vulnerable.

And in there, methinks, is a very important key.

For whatever.

Selah.

House-keeping when dreams are high-jacked

The purpose of prophetic pictures often is to encourage us in times when natural senses or human logic cannot give an adequate explanation for what is going on.

I have been in and out of a season like that. Looking at it from a purely practical perspective, life is generally pretty good. But I can sense from the emotional roller-coaster that there are numerous battles being fought on many different fronts. I am mostly at peace, but it is a locked-and-loaded peace. Some of you would get that. I’m cool, but don’t make any sudden moves … :).

I guess it’s like river rafting. The one moment the river is gloriously calm and you find yourself marveling lazily at all the bird sounds, and with the next turn you need to hang on for dear life to not be flung out of the rubber duck.

I guess that’s life for you.

That was the prophetic picture, in case you missed it … :).

One of the “rapids” that I personally have been dealing with over the past few months, are nightmares. As in, actual nightmares. During the night, when I’m supposed to be resting to keep up a rather fast-paced schedule.

As someone who believes that dreams are either a healthy way for our subconscious to deal with things that we need to process, or as a way for the Holy Spirit to guide and teach and give wisdom, having nightmares is an unwelcome intrusion into territory that I will not concede. Hence, I fight strange battles at 2am in the morning :).

I won’t bore you with the details of the nightmares, but they have ranged from witnessing a murder, to physical abuse, to burning dragons, to reptiles in my bath and spiders in my bed.

Anyone who knows me well would know how not ideal any of that is.

I am not a theologian by training, but I am a seeker of practical application of real lifestyle faith. If you are a Christian, spiritual warfare fits into that.

These dreams have prompted me to bring my heart before God in repentance, asking Him to purify me of anything that could give unholy influences access to my mind-space. Because those dreams have been nothing short of demonic.

Believe you me, there are things that I consistently have to repent of, and I do so willingly.

I will seldom tell someone to not listen to certain music, watch certain movies or read certain books, because I probably listened, watched or read it myself. I really do live in that scripture that says we need to test stuff. But when we start to make emotional agreements with the stuff, we’re sort of allowing pollution to seep into our souls. I do often see a correlation between stuff I read or watch or listen to, and the strength of my flesh to convince me that sin is ok. Fair, actually. That holiness is an unfair expectation, and that if God wants me to stop sinning He needs to give me what I want … #rebellion101.

Do you see where that goes …

Thus – repent.

Repentance is pretty much always step one when some demonic thing seems to want to intimidate you. I don’t mean look for some sin that you can punish yourself over. That’s what religion demands.

I think God sometimes just wants us to check-in our hearts for Him to monitor our vital signs. It’s like making sure that what you said or did didn’t hurt your friend without you realizing it – that is how I sometimes view repentance. Just checking in with the Lord to make sure He’s happy with how I handled a situation, or what I said to someone. Or how I handled what someone said or did to me. Or with my attitude towards … (insert whatever).

Listen, there is blatant and obvious sin (the thing that you’re trying to not think of right now) and there is secret/hidden sin. Like being offended, vanity, pride or racism. Sometimes we are unaware of the hidden stuff.

Being humbly before Him is the only way to get all of those soul-polluters off our conscious. His blood and His love. Covered. I really do live in grace, but grace does not replace good manners. I think it is good manners to ask God if He is ok with a certain area of your life.

He did die and conquer sin and death for you, after all.

By the way – there has never once been fear involved. The nightmares have revolted me, but they have not made me fearful. The Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth is the most powerful weapon in this realm, and the other one. I am in His name and in His hands, despite potential grace-boundary oversteps that could have caused holes in my armor. He fixes that too.

Think Simba and Nala with the hyenas in the elephant grave-yard. Mufasa steps in to save. (Another picture for you … see above. I often need that.)

Thus – no fear. But it is rather irritating to wake up disgusted from what you just dreamed.

I also however realise that a physical area/territory has certain spiritual influences as a result of what other people are doing or have done there that has nothing to do with my personal repentance. I have sought insight into what the intersession needs to be in this regard as well.

That be step 2.

Intercede for other people and bless the ground you’re on.

I personally like physically anointing a place. As in with oil. It gives me something to do with faith. I’m hardcore like that. Jokes. It’s a Biblical principal, and a prophetic act, for those who are slightly freaked out by now.

I really don’t want any other spirit in my house. Just the Holy Spirit. By anointing my house I declare that only He is welcome. I also then ask Him to show me if there is anything that He doesn’t like in the place so that I can get rid of it. I have thrown away many story books in my life as a result of this.

Strange, last night when I went though this process, I saw (as in physically) a small round token sticking out from the roof at my front door. I removed it, and it was some sort of ring with religious symbolism on it. I did not put it there. Listen, people are weird and they do weird things. Sometimes they think they’re doing you a favour, but their ignorance causes chaos in the spirit. Love and bless them anyway.

I detest religious idols. Or rather, the faith put in religious idols. Thus, I flung the foreign thing across the street and declared every curse placed by anyone on my house, knowingly or through ignorance, null and void. Then I spent the evening in worship, placed a few open Bibles around the house (primarily opened at Psalm 91 and Mark 16:17 &18), and went to bed.

Sorted.

Slept like a baby last night.

Very few of the battles we fight are just for ourselves. We stand for ground. On earth, as it is in Heaven.

Be encouraged.

In this world you will have trouble, but He has overcome the world.

Sweet dreams 🙂

Selah.

The complex simple life.

Thoughts pertaining to our collective existential 30-something crises

Sometimes I write to see what comes out.

I don’t yet have a theme, because I don’t yet know what will come to the surface when I start to dig.

This is one of those posts.

So hopefully, towards the end, we might all gain some sensible insight together. Or at least not feel alone in our collective existential 30-something crises.

Something stood out for me while I was journalling this morning. (Yes, before I write, I write …).

I’ve been sort of wondering about aspiration.

What people want. Or think they want. And who they honour and follow as heroes as a result of that aspiration.

I think aspiration as such is a great motivator.

You will align your actions to achieve what you aspire to. Hence, you’re motivated by your aspirations to make and follow certain lifestyle choices. The psychology-bit in that sentence is for free.

So, yay for aspirations.

But then the slight cynic in me turns a mirror on society.

Having recently re-entered the world of media and PR, I am especially intrigued by what gets celebrated in upper-income lifestyle and social media. I’ve recently started to follow (as in on IG) women that an article described as “top female SA influencers on Instagram”.

So far, I’m just seeing a lot of boobs displayed with the help of expensive fashion items. And the odd cappuccino in a designer cup. Forgive me for being uninspired by that.

Be that as it may.

It’s not because I don’t like nice homes and pretty clothes and luxury travel. Even me, I post pics of cappuccinos.  I also don’t necessarily have a moral problem with displaying my boobs in a designer dress. Hey, anything that could help at this stage, I guess …

Be that as it may.

It’s just that it seems like so much of what gets published in mainstream media only celebrates elaborate food dishes, pretty people and in-affordable (for most) luxury accommodation in Big Five or Wine country.

Which makes me wonder afresh if that really is what so many people are aspiring to. Motivated by. Working for. At least enough to sell those magazines and create that social media following.

I don’t want to get all morally-highground about living “the simple life”. That would make me a hypocrite. I live in Stellenbosch, for crying in a bucket, and I partake in all the goodness of a very privileged life. Minus the boob displaying. I try to avoid that part, most of the time.

So, I’m not trying to diss “empty aspirations created by media”. I would be shooting my own profession in the foot if I did that. I like nice things. Prettiness. Good wine. Rooms with ocean views and poached eggs for room service breakfast.

I think I might just be struggling to understand my own aspirations in life.

What do I really want?

Does it matter?

Many voices would say it does matter: Follow your authentic dreams, they say. Well, to really follow my own authentic dreams would have to involve major global media publicity efforts. So there goes that for the pursuit of simplicity.

Other voices would say it doesn’t: It’s not about you, they say. I get the selfless notion of that. But taken out of context that could also lead to not taking ownership of what you need to do with your given time and talents.

Through-out my life as an independent adult, I have tried to make choices that are true to my heart.

I have tried to make the choices that are not necessarily in line with what society portrays as aspirations worth sacrificing time and energy for.

“Seek first the Kingdom” is the right term to use for that attitude in faith circles.

But one comes to a point in your life where you honestly ask: Is that really what I am seeking? The Kingdom?

Because then the pursuit of love and kindness, service to others and sacrificial generosity, and all the hidden good works that go with not seeking to build your own empire, should be the aspirations that motivate. And to be frank. They don’t always.

But alas. It’s a journey of grace.

Good things are added. They are lovely, and they are gifts. But to get stuck in the pursuit of them is soul-killing.

As aspirations, “seeking the good things” can become traps of futile pursuits, breaking beautifully complex humans down into functional features displayed on a LinkedIn profile, for sale to the highest head-hunting bidder.

And that sort of sucks.

I think I have now come to that place in life of having proven to myself the point of being a competent, independent, functional female.

Perhaps I should start experimenting with the notion of displaying the odd body-part to grow my social media influence. (Sorry, I’ll let that go now, before I get an amen …:)).

But then what?

I’m at that point in life where I want to now return to only singing the eccentric song of my real feminine soul. All the while celebrating the good things that result from seeking first the Kingdom, which is righteousness, joy and peace in the Spirit.

And I think, that is the insight from this digging.

Aspire authentically. Navigate accordingly.

Love God. Love people.

The complex simple life.

Thank you for reading through the process of me getting a revelation on my existential life crisis :).

Now what?

Selah.