Resurrection

Crab apples falling

make a lovely sound.

Words and pieces falling.

Death unto the ground.

Do we love the autumn leaves

or the pictures our thoughts paint?

The glances, glimpses, sun-struck

crunches, sheened and pruned

in secret places

and in my eye

omens of winter

come forward,

Lazarus-like,

to be made again.

Splitting

Cleft, Bereft. They call my house

a symbol of heart-ache: things

coming undone. But I, at its

heart, find joy in the jump

across the divide with a thump, a thump.

Yes in the rain it’s a bit of

a piddle, but dry skies draw back

my eyes to gaze onwards

and upwards, both inside

and outside: a perspective of stars

whilst a cracked bar of soap

plays into the splits

and the fissures of hands we call fingers.

Matta Clark: Splitting

My Summer: South Africa in Mpophomeni

Why, you may ask, if I visited South Africa in July am I only writing about it now?

I've been finding it difficult to sort and process.

I wish I could show you what it was like. Sitting in the big red tent with the winter sun filtering in. Children playing; dust and old carpets. There was a deep peace about that place, like God's hand was upon it, like something sacred. The reality is that for the children I met, their lives will not be like mine. Sure, they're given schooling now and apartheid is a thing of the past, but where you're born has such a grasp upon who you'll become.

I want to talk to you about one person I met in South Africa. A. is five years old, so you won't be knowing her full name, but I can tell you it's a beautiful one. We were told by Tearfund not have favourites among the children, and I never intended it to be like that. My very first day, we were left alone to get to know them, and so we began trying to interact with those around us. Some of the others joined group games, some of us went over to the little ones. I spent quite a bit of time trying to get A. to trust me enough to throw the ball she was playing with back to me. Later, she was climbing all over me and pulling at my hair. I'd been playing with her and some of the others for quite some time, thinking that they spoke no English, until A. suddenly came out with, "Don't tickle me!" My face must have been priceless. I later found out that while her English wasn't good enough for a conversation, it was certainly better than my Zulu.

In the Pre-school room.

I met and got to know many of the children at the centre, girls and boys of all ages, with different levels of English, the shy and the confident, the cuddlers, the football-players, the mischievous, but if I sat down anywhere in the near vicinity of A. then nine times out of ten she'd be straight on my lap. Since I've returned home, she's been the person most likely to pop into my head at unlikely times and the first face I see when I think of my trip. I cannot begin to explain how a small girl I knew for only a month, whose language I do not speak and who barely speaks mine, could have ended up in my heart. This kind of thing can only be God-given, because it goes beyond myself. 

I met many girls at many different stages in life. In a culture where dowry is hugely expensive, beyond what many people can afford, marriage is rare. The number of single mothers I met was unreal, and left us asking over and over again "Where are all the men?" Not to mention that the HIV/AIDS rate is high, unemployment is high and wages are low. I met a woman earning R50 a day, just less than £5, less than I make in an hour. Ten minutes down the road is Howick. Entering Howick is like stepping back into England, only with big security alarmed gates and a lot of barbed wire. Young people that I met there seemed to have the same opportunities and aspirations we do in the UK, when just down the road going to University impossible for all but the rare few. I have never before met people who wanted to go to uni, but genuinely couldn't afford to.

The back of my Ethembeni T-shirt- a present from the staff on our last day.

There is no doubt that God IS at work in Mpophomeni, and the ministry I worked in (Ethembeni, an outreach of Howick Community Church) is just one example of this. Yet when I think of what A.'s life will be like, with many of the obstacles of poverty stacked against her, it hurts. The Family Centre care for 'orphaned and vulnerable' children, her life has already been difficult. I don't want her to be pregnant and HIV positive at 15, I want her to be able to go to university if she wants to, to be paid fairly, to do what inspires her, to be a part of the world, to have a voice, to know and to love Jesus, to be the best she can be and to have a husband who is committed to and loves her. I want for her all the things that I would want for my own daughter, and I know that it is God who is allowing me to see it this way. We are all God's children, and the way I feel about A. is the way He feels about each of us.

One day, God will restore this broken world, but until then He chooses to work through us. Will we make our hearts and minds and hands available to Him that we might do good works on behalf of others? Although this post has been hard for me, this has been my obedience to God in sharing what He has taught me. It is about A. for me. I don't understand what I can do to make her life better right now. I will pray for her, and continue to give money into Ethembeni and I trust that God had a purpose in sending me to South Africa. I will work my hardest in Cambridge to get my degree, that one day, when God places me where I can make some real change, I will be ready- I will have used every opportunity that He has given me.

Praise Jesus.

Ethembeni Online
Tearfund

p.s. Ethembeni is Zulu for 'place of hope'.

Single Pringle

On Tuesday, I spent the day with two of my favorite sisters in Christ (cheesy, but they deserve the title), and together we listened to a preach by Francis Chan and got to hear from God. It was amazing, we prayed through it and worked out practical steps to made sure we did something about what we'd heard, however we all also had a line of thought in common. At some point it had flitted through all of our heads, 'I hope my husband will be like this'. Listening to Francis Chan speak about his desire to reach the lost, his honesty and integrity, the way in which he was walking with Jesus, we all recognised qualities in him which we respected and admired.


It's very easy to hear somebody like Francis Chan and think 'I hope my husband will be like that', but I later wondered if it was partly an excuse used by girls to stop us radically living out the gospel? We wait for a guy who can lead us spiritually, rather than looking towards Jesus, our true guide. Sometimes we fall into waiting for a guy who can show us how to be part of building God's kingdom, who can push us out of our comfort zone and into living like salt and light, but Jesus already offers to do all those things in us. Of course I would like to marry someone who sees miracles, salvations, serves the poor and loves his God, but I don't want to miss out on these experiences myself! What's the point in getting excited about relationships, if we're not first excited to discover the joys and hardships of the adventure that comes from following Christ?


At my church's women's conference, one speaker said she felt that women were often unconsciously waiting for permission to do things, and challenged us to give ourselves permission. At the time, I wasn't convinced, yet thinking about it, I love my God, and I love spending time in His presence, yet how often have I actively and individually pursued that? And how often do I wait for permission first? Or act, and then check with others to make sure 'it's okay' for me to do that? Jesus made a way to live every day with Him, to experience Him in every moment, so why all this waiting? Reading and hearing stories about people who are seeing amazing things happen in Jesus' name, and thinking 'one day that'll be my life' just isn't good enough anymore, it doesn't satisfy. Only Jesus can. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty."

In the same way, no relationship can ever satisfy your soul like a relationship with the One who made you can. God wants us to be in relationship with Him before we can even begin to learn how to relate to others, and if we want a guy who has truly died to himself and lives only for God, then surely we must also discover that call ourselves.

Praise Poem

Faith is both hard and easy.
We walk the line of duality:
trudging soldiers and soaring eagles
on a narrow way,
an impossible path.
But on we go,
with fingers curled tight about the thumb of a Father;
No weight to our confused
and crisscrossing legs.

"The LORD directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the LORD holds them by the hand." - Psalm 37:23

Today, I ate a boiled egg.

Happy New Year!
It was pointed out to me that I haven't blogged since October, and I felt rather ashamed. Truth is, I have five or six unfinished blog posts lying in the drafts box, ranging from topics of singleness to the book 'One Day' by David Nicholls. Yet, I haven't been pushing myself to finish them. But a New Year is here, and my challenge is to challenge myself. And also to stop apologising at the beginning of each post.

I had a beautiful Christmas, spending time with my family. We're a small and rather tight-knight group, who refer to ourselves as 'The Buzzards' and make frequent bird of prey jokes. It's a little embarrassing how often, when out for a walk, somebody will spot a bird circling ahead, point and shout, "Look it's one of our relations!" The clan has also multiplied considerably in recent years, as both my cousins now have small children, which has lead to hours of Hide and Seek using the only five hiding places in the house.

Christmas Dinner

The World's Oldest Video Camera

My Favourite Brother

It was good to be there. And now it's time to begin again. College resumes tomorrow, and I'm praying for the most amazing, God-glorifying last six months there. Hope you all had a great Christmas and I'm encouraging your use of the comment box this year, so let me know how it was!

p.s. You may be wondering about the blog title. 2012 promises to be a great year: finishing A-levels, hopefully off to Uni to study English, potentially spending all of July in South Africa, being a part of the new Tribe system with our church youth and to kick it all off, after 12 years of protesting that boiled eggs make me feel sick, I enjoyed one this morning. It's an exciting year!

Writing Course Assignment: Apathy

I wandered past a homeless man
lying in the street,
I wandered past this homeless man
as he stared at my feet.

I trod the same route every day,
a firmness in my step,
not to care that on such streets
such desperation slept.

Until one day I met the cross
where apathy is nailed,
and felt compassion in my chest
and felt how we have failed.

I wandered past a homeless man
but today I saw it all:
injustice, like a leaden shot.
Today I saw a soul.