Girlfriends

Sunday, the first day of the week, was the last day of a few disastrous days for me. I completely lost my temper with 2 service providers due to really bad customer service, but in such a non-me-way that I thought I was going to have a heart attack, got stuck in a security village as the gate code given to me was incorrect – this left me in tears for a good few minutes, had a disagreement (not argument) with a dear friend, and and and, the list is really long.

Yesterday, after our Sunday morning service – the celebration of a new baby dedicated to God, I retreated to my cave. With the firm decision to stay here until I felt better, I retreated, and closed the door to the world.

BUT I lost reckoning with 2 dear dear friends. They quietly found their way into my cave, scarified their peaceful Sunday, and loaded with a good chick-flick, schwarmas, a foot spa, bright pink nail gel, and hearts filled with love, they sat with me – with no intentional speech to make me feel better, without cheap advice, no secondhand stories of how their day was worse than mine. They were just with me. We laughed, we cried (I cried), we shared fantasy stories. They calmed the storm in my soul, reminded me of God’s love for me, reminded me of my puzzle piece – the role that I play in our community, they prayed for me, and then left me feeling less angry, less sad, and cared for.

They reminded me of how our lives are enhanced, how our colors are brighter in relationships, and how much I love them. They reminded me that we are community for one another, and that we have the chance to show Jesus to one another.

Picking up the pieces

Its just been too long. And I’m not quite sure how to pick up the pieces. I could tell you that I got busy living life, too busy to think out loud or blogg or write or share my thoughts. I could tell you that I got tied up in myself – and made a really small parcel. More interestingly –maybe- I could tell you of all the places I visited London, Paris, St Gallen, San Antonio, Nice, Rome, Vienna, Frankfurt, Johannesburg, Manica Mozambique and Zimbabwe, but that I scarcely had time to visit me, or of all the grand hotels where I stayed, and how lonely I was there, my only thought to get home.

But what I want to tell you is that I stopped the bus and got off. I got out the boat. REALLY - I took time out. I gave up the security of a steady and very well paying job, in which I suppose I was really good, and loved by all, where my main purpose was to MAKE MONEY, quick and fast and lots of it. To gain market share, and grow the business, and find new ways of making more money even quicker. I packed up my house and put my life into a suitcase or two, a few books my iPod and laptop, and went north.

I took a year Sabbatical. Setting time aside to focus on God. Time to detox, time to recharge, rediscover, reconnect to God, myself and my dreams. I learned about people, and relationships, different cultures, and languages, I ate different food. I read. I daydreamed. Sometimes I just sat, and stared at the mountain. Sometimes I slept, and forgot about the future. But most of the time I was confronted with God, and He confronted me with myself and how I chose to live life up to now.

Coming back home was really tough. I felt out of joint. It felt as if I had been walking barefoot for a very long time, developed calluses on my feet, and now my old shoes just did not sit as comfortable as before. And I liked it to be reminded that I have changed. I want to take all the new ideas and the old one’s that has been engraved in to my heart and LIVE THEM. Make them part of my every waking breathing moment. I did not go into the wilderness to just come back and slip back into the comfort of my previous life. I got given a second chance and how I badly wanted to live the second round different.

I heard God say that I am His beloved, and this gives me courage. This gives me the platform to live on. God blessed me with companions and a community to journey with and within.

Picking up the pieces proved difficult. I cannot share my every thought much as I would want to. I lost a few pieces – since I was too lazy to write of it down. So now the pot resembles the Clay pots we stick together at Kleipot Community Church, full of holes – to let the Light shine through. I realize that I am a really really broken vessel, without many of my previous pieces, but I have discovered that I do carry a precious message. And I want to live life, with my holes, and vulnerabilities, and inadequacies, and missing pieces.

Effe skrikkerig, ‘n bietjie huiwerig, maar nooit bang nie.