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.