Friday, October 9, 2015

Where the Photos Are

I don’t post everything here. Some thoughts are little snapshots of my life. And no, I don’t like sharing them on Twitter-just not enough engagement on there. I like interacting…

So, if you’re on Facebook, you can find me under the same title, “Imperfect Mom of Three.” Yes, I know this time next year it won’t be three anymore, God willing! But for now, let’s keep it that way.

Happy Prep and Shabbat shalom!

Thursday, October 8, 2015

When Jesus is Inconvenient to Us- Matt 8

There these demoniacs were, strong and terrifying, so terrifying that people could not travel near them. Jesus steps off the boat and meets them. Immediately they know they’re in trouble, and seek somewhere to flee that Christ would approve of. Of course, knowing that pigs are unclean in God’s eyes, (Lev 11, Deut 14) they knew He would agree to let them enter them. And off the large herd of swine went off, straight to their deaths.

Jesus was inconvenient to these people of the town. He caused them to lose their livelihood. They focused on that,  and ignored the wonderful work He had performed on the demoniacs and that could be performed on the inhabitants of the town. Instead of praising Him, they sent Him away. I wonder how those released men felt, knowing that the one who freed them from captivity was not wanted. I know he wanted Him to remain longer but Christ never forces Himself where He is not wanted. Instead of gaining healing and truth firsthand from the Source of all Truth, all the town had to rely upon was the testimony of the healed man. (Mark 5)

Jesus was inconvenient. They chose their money above the eternal riches of heaven. They chose to be comfortable here rather than to be blissful there. Aren’t we sometimes like that? We don’t want Jesus to show us a better way, to remind us that we have certain abominations and wrongs in our possession. We don’t want Him to take our means of sustenance, not realising that by pushing Him away, we push away an abundance of blessings. We are so focused on our todays and our hoped-for tomorrow’s that we forget that He holds those tomorrow’s too. What happens if we compromise today so that we can get a certain job tomorrow but we never wake up from our sleep? What if tomorrow never comes and we squandered away our today? The Gergesenes sent Christ away. And with that, they sentenced the sick and dying to their deaths. And I don’t only mean physical deaths.

May Jesus not be so inconvenient to us that we sentence ourselves to the same fate. May we accept Him even when it means letting go of what we think is good and necessary.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Blood Pumping Faster!

Just got a huge surge of energy from a news report. Once upon a time, we lived in Somerset West. For all of 4 months! Ha! Some things do not change, and that includes our love of walking. We used to walk past a place that now has a baby safe that they call a Baby Saver. It’s a box with sensors that was put there to stop babies being just ‘dumped’ and left to the elements. As soon as the baby is in the box, an alarm rings and baby is taken to safety. A baby boy who looks about 1 month old was placed there this past Monday. What makes it so amazing is that I’d only recently read about it and told my husband about it. Last week! That recently! And now it’s been used. One less baby harmed. I’m so excited! So excited. He’s safe!

And it made me think about our son. Will he have been abandoned? Will his mom keep him for a month and then place him? Or has she already made the heartrending decision already and is waiting for his birth? Our daughter was born 15 days after we started the process. Next week we begin again. Where’s our son?

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Not HIS tie. Not HIS jacket…Not HIS gig!

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A few months ago, one of my husband’s superiors asked my husband’s direct superior how good he is at handling people. He was asking to see if he’d be a good fit for a certain role at work. Now note, my husband works in business, he’s a Demand Manager (whatever that meansWinking smile) My husband’s superior answered the man by saying, “Oh you don’t have to worry about people skills. He’s like a pastor or something. He deals with all sorts of people at his church.” Ahh, that made us laugh. Firstly, what kind of answer is that for the business world? And we weren’t so sure that being an elder and lay preacher were really close to pastor status. Till this Sunday.

After a comedy of errors that was more tragic than comedic at the time, one of the big errors was that..the pastor did not arrive to conduct a wedding blessing. Now why I call it a wedding BLESSING is because they’re already married-in the families’ eyes. As soon as lobola (bride price) is paid, the woman is allowed to leave and live with him. This is the case in their culture too-not South African. We tend to do white weddings just because. And as Adventists we also want to have a public declaration of the marriage as well, to make those vows before God. At the same time, the other reason it wasn’t an official wedding was because the bride lives out the country and due to certain complications, was not able to obtain her documentation  that states that she’s unmarried in her home country on time. The groom had his. The official, legal stuff will follow later.

Anyway, we arrive at the wedding venue-which so happened to be where we celebrated our tenth anniversary-and there’s no pastor. We wait. No pastor. Everyone comes to my husband to tell him all the woes going on, and I began to see why he was saying some months ago that  it’s time he stepped down from being an elder, lol And time goes by, still no pastor. He leaves voice messages on his phone, tries to search for his home landline number, no joy. And that is how he ended up borrowing a suit jacket and tie. So that he could perform the ceremony.

Yet another reason why I’m thankful for technology! He keeps all his sermons and presentations online and could quickly zip into a folder where he had kept a wedding sermonette from when 2013. He also (something I hadn’t thought of) found vows online after asking the couple (during the ceremony!) if they had planned on repeating vows. And so the show went on. Stand-in pastor with his semi-small jacket and borrowed tie. I think he did a good enough job. Bride was sweetly crying with emotion during the vows, too cute.

And no, I don’t know who the tie belongs to. I didn’t even realise he was wearing one!! Maybe it’s because as soon as we sat down to await the start, it was Lathitha’s lunch time. Or maybe it’s because poor little thing kept crying LOUDLY when people randomly kept ululating. It even kept happening during the vows so we couldn’t hear them properly. Baby wanted NONE of that so I kept having to leave so she wouldn’t add to the cacophony of sound.

I guess his colleague was right. You might as well be “like a pastor” when you have to fill in for him.

PS. Pastor is ok. I had visions of him in an accident on his way to the wedding. No, he is totally fine and nothing bad happened to him.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Sitting at the Dining-Room Table

My mother never spoke to me about puberty and physical changes I’d go through. Not even when I went through them. I muddled through by learning from friends. Not good teachers because they too were learning!

So I made time for the children (age ten and nine) and I to talk. I found an opening and chatted while sitting at the dining room table. It honestly felt surreal. Such conversations are just not normal. Hey, at least I’m not like a certain mom who asked for books that she could read aloud instead of just talking from her heart. And it was pretty funny! We’ve spoken about things before, but not so specifically. And it was cute. Wouldn’t you laugh (internally) if you daughter asked, “If I grow breasts, will that make me weigh more? Will I become obese?” (Joys of reading about the dangers of obesity and not having understood what it really was!)

It seems the talk about puberty hurried it along because soon after their aunt visited from the UK and took them out, she told me this, “Hmm, I hear your children have reached puberty! There we were just having a normal conversation at the till while shopping, and the boy suddenly tells me he’s hit puberty. He found a hair under his armpit! And the girl was quick to say she also thinks she’s reached it too!”

Note. He had told me that same thing a week before…And I found not even half a hair. But he’s convinced he felt it.

So puberty it is. It’s arrived. All because I spoke about it. Pity I can’t speak myself into being a millionaire Winking smile

Saturday, October 3, 2015

The Irony

Once upon a time there was a couple. This couple went through interesting times…The husband’s work went through a catastrophe (caused by error not fraud) and the husband told the wife about the day someone was suspended. The wife wept at the image of this poor man (A man she didn’t know existed before that) who has a wife and children, having to go into work, no-one allowed to speak to him, and have his laptop confiscated. I can’t imagine the emotion this man felt. I know the wife of the suspended man’s colleague felt awful for this poor man. Must have felt like being arrested by the police.

Then the husband had the same thing (minus the laptop) happen to him. Imagine the shock and dismay.

When it was all over, the wife laughed that they had been feeling sorry for, encouraging and praying for the suspended man, only to have the same happen to them. Ignorance surely is bliss.

Life is full of irony.

But the beauty is that people got to see that Christians aren’t selfish nor self-seeking. They chose to suffer loss so that the first man would not suffer. I can’t give you the identities of these people but I have learnt a lot through watching the husband. And so have the colleagues. While most of the colleagues were breathing fire, he was basking in the incense of prayer. This husband was helping the suspended man formulate his defense while working on his own. And I’ve heard that even when it was over, he was still calling the first guy and keeping him encouraged and helping him deal with the aftermath and how it affected their future.

Sometimes people need to go through what others perceive as injustice in order for those around to see the God people serve and how God gives grace under fire. Sometimes people need to be like the widow of Zarephath, giving of their temporal ‘wealth’ in order to gain spiritual health. I’d have loved to have ‘just enough’ but to live with a man of God. That’s a fair trade. Better than having a lot but no idea what God wants in my life.

God provides. I’ll be watching this couple and I hope they never forget all the prayers and offers of support they gained from people. All of it. If they do, I will remind them. Or I can tell you so you can remind them too.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

I Am Angry-Don’t Let Your Girl Look Like the Old Me!

There’s a blog I read of a white mom of a black daughter. She had a terrible experience where people at a salon claimed the poor little girl needed to have her hair relaxed.


Wow. No way. Don’t believe that lie. You do NOT need chemicals and burns to make your child’s hair ‘manageable and neat.’

Firstly, we need to realise that ‘tidy and manageable’ for a black girl with healthy hair is very different to what it would be like for a white girl. Most importantly, we black people need to realise that. I guess when we still put weaves on our hair that look like the white idea of ‘tidy and manageable’ we’d find it impossible to know how to deal with our own hair.

Poor baby had a bit of trauma with the relaxer itself, and even worse trauma when blow drying it. If the experience was anything like the one I had in Zimbabwe, I can understand why she was screaming. Those people just pulled at the knots they made and combs and blew their hot hair on my tender ears and kept the dryer in one place while burning my already tender scalp-tender from a relaxer.

The lie has got to stop. We don’t need pain in order to keep our hair tidy. The only pain my daughter has ever felt from my doing her hair was if I wasn’t paying attention and pulled too tightly or hadn’t sprayed her loc with (homemade) spritz before tightening it.

An afro comb on dry hair is a disaster. Black hair needs moisture. Not chemicals. And the wider apart the teeth of the comb are, the better. Relaxers burn and cause damage, so does heat. Don’t let them do that to your little one’s scalp, please! Even plaits, braids and cornrows are dodgy, they can be pulled way too tightly, resulting in traction alopecia one day down the line.


We have been taught that we “suffer for beauty” and it’s so sad that the natural hair movement hasn’t yet come to South Africa. For the sake of the mama’s of black children, it needs to. Our children need to stop suffering so much that they’re screaming and crying over their hair. It needs to stop.

Time to research natural hair care for black children, the internet is a treasure trove. You’ll find more real help online than in a physical salon sometimes. Do it for your precious girl. Tidy is not flat and lying pressed to the scalp like in my “lady in red” days. Not for her hair , not for mine. Relaxed hair is oppressed hair. Abused hair. Burnt into submission hair.

And yes, black hair does grow. Just know that if it’s happily loose and curly, it won’t be as obvious unless you stretch it out. Our hair doesn’t just grow, it kinks, curls and coils. Hence the thickness of afros. Embrace the puff.


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