Life changes as often as we change our underwear.... maybe even more often :)

My goal since re-starting my blog is to try post something once a week. This third entry has been the most difficult one to write, not because the topic is difficult but because I have so many thoughts on so many varied topics at the moment and I wasn't sure which one I wanted to write about. In fact I am still not sure which one to start to write one, I narrowed it down to two. 1] is a deep and potentially offensive. And 2] is some deep life pondering.

I have decided on the second one, I will set the proverbial cat among the pigeons another time.

The other day I had a sudden realization, completely out of nowhere. “I might not want to have my own children anymore.” [I can see those who know me go and re-read that statement, confused, and in disbelief.] It's not like I have made a hard and fast decision in this direction, but I realized that my mind has changed.

Before having children was a priority of mine. It was a non negotiable in a marriage partner, I didn't just want my own but I also wanted to adopt. Since the age of 15 I have always wanted to adopt. I love children and I love working with children. One of my favorite things is to hold a sleeping baby. I have spent a lot of time in my life working in orphanages etc. Children have been a huge factor for me. Somehow in the last year, this priority has shifted.

Some of this is influenced by where I work. Everyday I am around pregnant women or women with “female” problems because of the doctor I work for. I see what a woman's body goes through and think to myself, “WOW! My body will be going through ALL that and I'm a lot closer to 40 than these ladies are.” I think of the health implications on my baby, with my age galloping towards that great 40 milestone. I also think of the reality that would mean I would be in my 50's when my child hits their teens. Menopause and teenage hormones under one roof! That is a scary thought.

Some of it is influenced by watching married couples, sit and discuss the horrible “what if” pregnancy complication questions, and hearing answers of how, as a married couple, they are in committed to each other first and foremost and would choose each other over a kid. Small things, all slipping into the folders of my mind's filing system and suddenly I find myself at a new stage in life where something that was once a priority is no longer a priority.

Now, I am not one of these “my biological clock” is running down type, nor am I anti-marriage. Nor am I anti-children. The decision is not made yet. But for the first time in my life I am open to negotiation, where as before there was no negotiation. It was a straight, “No kids, mean you don't get a chance in my life.”

I remember being so irate with an Albanian man. We had gone out for coffee, our first coffee together, while I was serving in Albania. Now in Albania, coffee is a date....many times you get engaged on the third coffee. [though not always]. So going for coffee, unchaperoned is a huge deal and many things are discussed. In this situation I remember this man asking how many kids I wanted. I mentioned that I wanted to adopt and have at least one of my own. [that was my non negotiable]. To this he replied, “but what if your husband wants 6 kids.” I laughed it off, thinking he was joking, and said, “well best he find someone else to have his children, at my age [all of 32 at the time], I wont be having 6 children.” to which he responded, “You don't understand, if your husband wants 6 children, then you WILL have 6 children.” I tried to respond and was told, “its not open to discussion. If he wants 6 children, you will have 6 children.” I found an excuse to cut coffee short and ran for the hills, almost literally. I was angry and thought this man was so pigheaded.

In hindsight was I any different? Some of my non-negotiables are still non-negotiable. I am not one of these girls who draws a list of 50 things they want in a husband. Mine had 4 things.

1] Christian

2] Spirit filled

3] Must want children and be open to adopt.

The 4^th I might reveal another time. The first two will always be a non-negotiable. But age has brought fresh perspective. In my twenties, this was important and something I would not budge on. I am not in my twenties anymore, and its not that I don't love children, just am not sure if I want to HAVE MY OWN. I remember even being rebuked in my late twenties cause I mentioned that I wanted children more than a husband and that he was a means to an end, so to speak. Ironically the person who rebuked me is now a single mom by choice.

But I know now that I would choose my husband over my right to have children. If God brings a marriage partner my way, and if God doesn't that is also ok, because marriage is only temporary, I am eagerly awaiting the great wedding feast in Eternity with my true groom. Marriage is a gift, a blessing for a period of time in my earthly life. Its not my entire purpose or destiny. Again this is a perspective that changed in my over the years. Earlier in life I was convinced I would be married by the time I was 24. Now we know that Brides are renowned for being late to their own weddings, but 12 years might be beyond late. [yes you can laugh at this!] Before I thought life hinged on being married. Now I know that life is more than just marriage. [though marriage can be a joy].

Another perspective that changed is Albania. 10 years of my life poured out into that nation. I remember Albania was number 5 on my non-negotiable list. [once there were 5 things, before there were 4 things...now I think only two remain]. If a man was interested in me and not interested in the nation that had won my heart, he was tossed aside. I don't regret a moment of my time in Albania, even though it was devastating at times. But I am not in Albania anymore, so it is no longer a factor. I do remember the 4^th time when I was trying to move to Albania. [3 times before things had gone south and forced me to go south – literally- and forced me to return to South Africa]. This 4^th time I was devastated and not wanting to go through it again. I remember a wise couple sitting with me, praying for me and counseling me. The husband said something very profound, “whatever you decide make sure it doesn't effect your relationship with God. Remember that this nation, all the nations, are temporary. Your vision and calling, it is temporary. All of this fades, and in heaven their wont be these visions/plans/purposes or callings. There wont be these nations as we know it. But your relationship with God is eternal. Make decisions in line with this.”

How wise. How true. I did choose to stay. It was a wonderful ten years of my life, it was also the hardest and most heart-wrenching. But I knew it was what I was called to. And I knew in following what I was called to I would help others find what is eternal. But I also know if I hadn't stayed, it would have been OK. Because it was temporary. Now its been two years since I have left, and its no longer my vision and my current calling. If I had lost my eternal purpose for the sake of the temporal, how devastating would that have been?

Age, sickness, physical ability, marital status, children, employment, finance, location, circumstances, the list could go on. All these things, and more, ensure change. Change is inevitable. So don't get so attached to the temporary that you loose sight of what is truly eternal. Enjoy the perks, the gifts, the blessings. But know that they too are temporary. Don't take them for granted, because they might not always be there. Thank God, neither will the heartaches. The tough times, the grief-filled moments, they too will pass. There will come a day when He will wipe every tear, when the heart grieves no more. Don't get stuck in the hard times, have your season of mourning, be comforted but then move on, because life will move on whether you are ready or not. Life changes frequently, in the blink of a moment. Change happens as often as we change our underwear. [which i trust is VERY often.]

Anchor your souls in what is truly eternal and unchangeable, Christ alone. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father of lights that does not change like shifting shadows. God is not a man that He should lie, nor the son of man that He should change His mind. Does He speak and not act? Does He promise and not fulfill?

There in is our hope, the anchor for our souls, when all around changes, He alone is our steadfast. Don't let anything rob you of your relationship with Him, for that too is truly eternal. Remain in Him, dear ones, remain in Him.

Bad CAR-ma

Have you ever just had one of THOSE days? ? ?

I am sure you have . . .we, sadly, all have.

The type of day where nothing goes your way, in fact it seems like everything is deliberately conspiring to go against you.

The last 24 hours has seemed a bit like that for me. It wasn’t like I woke up and knew it was just going to be one of those days…NO! that would be too easy, that way I could have prepared and braced myself and got through it. . . nope, this was one of those THOSE days that sneaks up in the middle of a seemingly good day and yells, “gotcha!”

So the day was progressing well. My boss wasn’t in, my work was chilled and caught up. I was given the privilege of leaving early, which meant I could accomplish the errands I needed to without eating into my weekend time. First errand runs smoothly. Its all good. And then it happens.

I leave the store after my second errand, feeling a little tired and dizzy from bad sinus, thinking one more errand and the day is done and I can go home put my feet up and rest. I walk over to where I parked my tiny little red car. Seriously she is a little thing. And immediately I hear that sneaky “gotcha” voice. A rather large taxi had parked next to me. This guy was a real pro. He had parked in a way that he was so close to me I could fit between him and my car to get to my driver’s door, let alone be able to open it. Also having a car almost twice the size of mine, combined with the angle he parked, spilling over into my parking bay, even if I managed to clamour over the passenger seat, in my high-heels and dress, I wouldn’t be able to reverse anyway.

Now this was not the best part of town to be in, in the first place. [exhale mom, I am ok, nothing untoward happened]. But I’m tired, its hot, I am a little paranoid and I am stuck. So I start speaking to the carguard. [for foreign friends …we have people in our parking lots who keep an eye on your car so that nothing bad happens to it and direct you in and out of parking bays. And we give them a small token/ tip as a thank you.] So I tell him that I am really quite irritated with this taxi, does he know how long the driver will be. He smiles that knowing smile that says, he could be parked here all day. Thankfully the car in front of me left…so I clamoured ungracefully over my passenger seat and into the driver’s seat. I tell the carguard to inform the taxi driver that I said “horrible things about him. I also put a curse on him and hid a snake in his car.” I was joking, well kind of, but the poor carguard went pale and big eyed and stammered. “no, no mam, please you must not say this. This is very bad thing to say.” They are a very superstitious culture, and part of that includes fear of snakes. I smiled and drove off to my final errand.

I hit one of the busiest supermarkets, and on top of it, it was Friday afternoon. I lost count of the amount of times someone bumped me with their trolley/shopping cart/ whatever your nation calls it.  Or the amount of times people simply stopped, blocking the aisle you were trying to go down, because they decided to talk to a friend or answer their phone. It was chaos but I survived it, feeling more tired than I started but I survived. I pay the bill, grab my purchases and head out the door only to hear…BEEP! Now I never set the alarms off. 3 security guards rush at me. I kid you not, I must look very intimidating to need 3 attending to me.  And the search begins. They unpack every item I have bought and check them. They then add one item into the bag/packet/whatever your nation calls it. And walk through the scanner. No beep. Good. Add another item. Repeat the process. I kid you not. I had two full bags/packets/whatever your nation calls it. Two full ones.  Mid way through they decide to search my bag and pockets. Nothing. Continue the process. Now I am super tired, trying to be super gracious. But really. Eventually they are down to 4 items. 3 of which are chocolates. [don’t judge me, after a day like this it’s a surprise I didn’t eat all 3 last night.]  and the one security guy goes, “oh yes, of course, we forgot the chocolates now have antitheft things on them. We really should tell the cashiers to remove them upon purchase.”

Yes. It really happened. So then we clear that all up, I get in my little red darling of a car, and head home. Looking more and more forward to being there. The road heading toward my house is recently graded and sure as nuts a car decides to overtake me, not just on a blind rise but also at a blinding speed, spraying gravel against my car. I exhale and almost shake my head in disbelief. I turn into my road, my house is in sight, except wait for it….a car parked in the road on a blind corner, half blocking my driveway. Yes. Not just a car, a massive 4x4 pickup truck/bakkie/whatever you call it in your nation. Now the person was collecting their kid from the preschool next to my house. The preschool driveway had NO other cars in it. So no reason they couldn’t pull into the driveway. I see there is someone sitting in the bakkie/pickup and flash my lights. They politely respond by putting their hazards on. So I hoot. [not sure what other nations call it]. They guy collecting his little girl, looks out in my direction and smiles and waves. Now I’ve finally had it. I sit with my hand on the hoot/blast the horn/whatever you call it in your nation. So the guy finally takes his precious little girls hand, strolls slowly, not towards his own car but towards mine and knocks on my window. I roll it down and he looks at me and says, “you know it’s very inconsiderate that you hooted.” I was so stunned, that this illegally parked – inconsiderate person would say that to me, that I luckily was speechless.

Thankfully I finally made it home, and had an uneventful rest of the evening, but then this morning Car-ma woke up with a vengeance. I pull out my gate, and am hoping to pull into my road and get myself off to work. I have deliberately left half an hour early because we had an early patient coming into the rooms and I wanted to make sure everything was good to go. I pause in my driveway to watch the gate close and then look forward to make sure the road was clear….not a chance. Same pre-school, same road, different drivers. But this time they were even more clever, there was one on either side of the road. So both lanes were blocked. Both on a blind corner, both having vacated their vehicles and taken their kids inside. Ugh. What is it with cars?!?!?!. Eventually they leave, again giving me dirty looks at my inconsiderate behaviour of placing my hand on the part of my steering wheel that causes a loud sound to be released.

And we’re off, manoeuvring our way down the gravel path, avoiding stones spewing up on either side, I hit the freeway, it’s all looking good, come around a corner and “screech” slam on the brakes. Traffic is at a standstill.  I inch my way along for the next half an hour, so slowly that I never get a chance to change out of first gear.  Thankfully the radio was playing some great songs, and we were at a complete standstill often enough that I could contact my boss and inform her I would possibly be late. She replied to say she was stuck in the same traffic mess. Finally, we see the cause of the situation. In the space of 20 meters [if that] two separate accidents had occurred. It is a two lane freeway in the direction I am heading and somehow each accident had occurred in one of those lanes. Hence both lanes were trying to merge and squish between the two. I inch through that and think, it’s finally over, but traffic doesn’t seem to be moving any faster. Another 20 minutes later we pass a truck that had taken a corner in the fast lane to wide and dovetailed, cutting off the fast lane of traffic. Ugh….grunt….CARS!!!! really!

I pass the truck and let my foot rest heavily on the accelerator, glad to be able to change out of first gear. I reach my parking bay at work, knowing I have 2 minutes to make it up to the main hospital building and into my office on the first floor to be on time for the patients, if they weren’t early. Our staff parking is so far from the main building that a golf cart gives us a lift up. as I open my door I see the last seat on the golf cart being occupied. So I ran up the stairs, that cut into the steep back, all the way across the doctors parking lot and into the main hospital building and up the stairs, and as I enter my corridor I see the patient arriving just ahead of me. I was so breathless I couldn’t even greet them. Yup, it seems it was one of those Car-ma days. Thankfully it seems to have given me a break and the rest of it has gone quite smoothly. I can only hope it continues to leave me alone for the rest of the weekend.

Enthusiastically and Elegantly Eccentric.

Have you ever noticed how you can't escape yourself? Your true-created-to-be self? You can try, hard, and its exhausting because its an internal conflict that you will never win. Even if you try distract yourself with other things, or vices, you still end up void unless you are being true to who you are created to be. The world, people, ideologies, religion, the devil, and a whole host of other things will try add to you, or take away from you, or break you down, but deep inside the true you always remains, screaming out for life, pushing itself back up to the surface at the slightest glimpse of light. His light and His love.

This is a lot of where I am at right now. I am not going to be sugar coating my blogs, its real life, real me, as it is in the moment. I feel like I got chewed up and spat out and lie broken on the ground, but yet a dream skips through my mind at night, or a friends words stir up vision, or a song or movie reminds me of something, and little by little that true self reminds me that its still there. We have all experienced these moments.

As healing continues in my life, more and more of me is surfacing, and its a scary and vulnerable time, because that me was so crushed and broken down and rejected, that having it surface is like a fragile first bloom in spring. A bit like the rose in Beauty and the Beast, I want to encase it in glass and prevent it from dying or being damaged. But regardless, its there.

Some of it has never left me, even though I wasn't aware of it. Apparently my creativity is apparent to all. As a teen I was strongly reprimanded for being “attention-seeking” in the way I dressed. I am sure there was a measure of truth in it, because, after all, I was a broken teen. But from that day I vowed I would conform in this area of dress. Fade into the background like everyone else. Apparently I failed dismally at this. I didn't realize it, and I am sure some of you who know me are shaking their heads wondering how I didn't notice I wasn't like everyone else, but it was so normal to me.

Then the comments start to surface, someone telling me that even the way I dress is artistic. A stranger stopping me in the shop and asking if I was an artist because of the tights I was wearing. A long standing friend pointing out that I don't fit the mold, in fashion. Another long standing friend saying that “eccentric” is the understatement of the year in describing me. Slowly but surely I realized that no matter how normal I try to dress, apparently I am incapable. Not that I cant carry it off, and I say this with humility. But there will always be a touch of eccentric that will rise up. Even my current boss, said the reason she hired me was because she likes eccentric people. My tamest outfit, dressed to impress and get the job, still somehow couldn't hide my true self, so I now enthusiastically embrace my eccentricity, and manage to still do it with a touch of elegant flare.

Another part of who I am that I can never deny is that I am HIS! Almost 2 decades ago I placed a memorial on my body, ie I got a tattoo with the scripture reference to Song of Songs where it says, “i belong to my love and His desire is for me.” its an immovable truth in my life. At the moment I am completely disillusioned with the institution of church, more than I have ever been before. I am broken from church, and its difficult for me because a huge portion of my life, in fact 2/3 of my life so far has been sacrificed into and invested into church, and most of what I got out of it was a bruised heart and broken soul. But that is a story for another day. But here I am, not at all happy or hopeful about anything to do with the institution of church, barely wanting to grace its premises with my presence. Tired of the religion and striving and hypocrisy. . . and yet if I do go, and I am standing in worship with the worst attitude imaginable, the minute the songs shift from ourselves and our works to WHO HE IS, I cant help myself, worship pours forth. Regardless of the state of the Bride, I am His, and I will always be His and when I focus on Who He Is, no matter what state I am in, I cant help myself, I cant hold it in, something in me, the essence of me rises up because I am created to worship Him and to know Who He is.

Thankfully Who He is doesn't change either. Thank God. No matter what is going on, He cant deny who He is. He is the same yesterday today and forever. He is not a man that He should lie nor change His mind. He cant not act in line with who He is. Its impossible. Thank God He is eternally Who He is.

I might be able to start to embrace and celebrate my eccentricities, whilst the rest of the me is vulnerably guarded. But little by little I know He restores what He created me to be, in me. Because even though I might not be faithful, He will remain faithful because he can not deny himself.

Warning : catnip can cause reddening of the cheeks...

Where to even begin? I have sat all day, wondering how to kick this off again? How do I start blogging again? There are so many thoughts in my mind, most too intense for what is technically a first conversation/blog. But I was void of anything light and humorous to write about.

Thankfully life never disappoints in the area of humor and embarrassment.

I was pottering around the garden this afternoon. As usual my clingy cat was underfoot and trying to be involved in everything I was doing. I stopped by the catnip that I had pruned and was drying out and started removing the dry leaves, to crush them and prepare them to stuff into my cat's toys. Yes, I am a crazy cat lady. Unfortunately my sinus's do NOT like catnip and I was getting a major sinus headache as I was busy. I stared down at my cat and loudly exclaimed, “Hmm boy I sure do love you!”. Now whether that was a guilt trip stated to make my cat know how much I was sacrificing on his behalf. Or a catnip induced declaration of affection. I am not sure what prompted my outburst. Unfortunately I didn't realize that there was a man pruning trees right next door to me. He popped his head over the wall and said, “are you talking to me?” I blushed. And stammered, while hoping the earth would open up and swallow me.... but finally I managed to get the words out, “no, I was talking to my cat,” He looks over the wall and says, “what cat?”. Sure enough my cat had disappeared at the most inconvenient time.

* Cringe *

so that was my afternoon. Needless to say I finished doing what I was doing as quickly as possibly and hid the remainder of my afternoon indoors.

I realized I have been back in South Africa 2 years already, in many areas life has settled, but in so many areas I feel like life is still in limbo. My writing unfortunately has been an area I've neglected. To encourage myself in this area I am re-designing my blog. Renaming it “Crimson Hope”. I invite you to follow me. Sometimes it will be random. Sometimes it will be intense. Sometimes it will be silly. Sometimes it will be profound. I guarantee it will always be real, and honest. So welcome to my world, my thoughts. . . my words.

Until next time . . . stay away from the catnip