For this I know for sure.

I don’t understand how aeroplanes stays in the air. How tons of metal can climb to 38 000 feet, and stay there for hours. Despite being expained to that is all about the pressure of the wings on air, I simply do not understand it, I just don’t get it.
I do understand that God loves us so much that He inspired the Wright Brothers to invent this wonderful machine that can fly, a machine that compacts the 15 hr drive form Johannesburg to Cape Town to only 2 hours.
Looking down from up here I do know that His love enfolds us – all of us, like the sky wraps around the earth.

I don’t understand how its possible to isolate us form the –50◦ C outside, I do know He cares enough to shield me, often from myself, by always giving me alternative choices.

We’ve been in the air for 45min, I’m so comfortable in this Lear-Jet, leather seats, view over the Free State, seeing all the dams and the reflection of the sun on the farm fences, and I am still baffled – even after flying for so many times. And I experience God right here, probably because I cannot figure this out, but feel quite comfortable knowing that He can.
However can I make the shift to experience Him in the everyday things that I can figure out – like traffic and making breakfast or doing 5 year planning, or crying because I am hurt, or joy when the sun warms me on a cold winters day, or the sight of sunset over Table-bay. Can I detect His Divinity in the mundane of everyday living.

As this I know for sure, for as long as God is just part of the religious silo of our lives, we miss the joy and freedom of living, of transporting the cognitive knowledge we have of God into experiencing Him, here and now.

I think its time to call it a day.

Centring Clay

A few wonderful friends, realising that I am procrastinator at heart, deceided to spoil me for my 40 birthday, and enrolled me for pottery classes, in the very same building as where Claypot, meets on Sundays. After just 2 classes I realised that working with clay is excatly how God works with me, mouling me into His shape.

Its really cold when sitting, in winter, at a potterswheel. Arms dripping with clay-ish water, to make sure the clay is moist enought to work with. Before you start to create a pot, its fital to centre the clay on the wheel, to make sure that the ball of clay lies exactly in the middle. This is done while the wheel is turning. The potter places both hands (wet with water) on the clay, left palm on the side of the clay, right hand vertical ontop of the clay. Now pressure is applied to the clay pushing forward and downward until you can feel that they clay moves smoothly under your hands. Any deviation, any slight off centre movement will distort the pot.
Whilst sitting wiht my weary arms applying pressure until sweat kept the clay moist, I realised that this is exactly what God does to me. He applies pressure from all sides, from above to ENSURE that He is the centre of my life, and any deviation destorts my life. Even when sculpting everyday, He persists with this process, persists with the pressure to assist me in choosing to make HIM the centre of everything I do, to make every rhithm entrenched with Him , until I am moist enought so that He can sculpt my character into His.