It's so easy to be limited by what we see as the negatives in life. Probably because negatives are most likely to be what is shoved in our faces every day: newspapers, television, film all seem to conspire to make us think that there is nothing beautiful left in the world.
I have decided that I am not going to be sucked in by it all. I will not spend my time telling my children what love is not ... instead I will show them what love is: that our first glimpse of it comes from a blood-stained cross on a hill long ago. I will give them a hint of what it can be like when a man and women really love each other by the way I love their father and celebrate occasions like Valentine's Day. I will work at my marriage every day by honouring my husband - without being a doormat; by showing physical affection readily and openly - not something that is hidden and therefore open to manipulation by an unscrupulous media; by making sure my marriage is an ongoing work in progress, a joint construction by two equals that is rapidly moving to the end of its third decade of growth.
So I won't let just just fifty shades of anything blinker my view or dominate my thinking ... I will live in the abundance of every shade of red.
I fell in love again last weekend. It sort of took my by surprise, although really it shouldn't have. After all, this weekend we share our 29th wedding day (and our 28th anniversary). But it was that moment when I looked through my window and realised that he had managed to surprise me again ... and yes, my heart skipped a beat.
'Give us grace, oh God, to dare to do the deed which we well know cries to be done. Let us not hesitate because of ease, or the words of [people's] mouths or our own lives.'
Lately, I've been feeling a bit restless. There's that itch that you can't quite find or ease, the sense that you need to face up to a challenge, step up or step out or step up ... in other words, move on.
But being comfortable is so much easier. It's convenient. It's painless. And herein lies the rub. This is not the life to which we've been called. We were never promised the security of seeing the whole staircase, just the promise that His presence would always go with us (Exodus 33:14). We were never promised a smooth path, just the promise that in our distress, He is distressed (Isaiah 63:9). We were never promised that it would be easy, just the promise that He is our refuge and strength (Psalm 46:1).
So, though I must confess to just wanting to be comfortable, I am reminded again that 'mighty causes are calling us - the freeing of women, the training of children, the putting down of hate and poverty - all these and more.' And, though they 'call with voices that mean work and sacrifice and death', we must 'find a way to meet the task'.
When was the last time you did something from the heart? Not stopping to think about whether or not it was technically perfect or if it made you look good, you simply did it because it was the right thing to do. I must confess that so often I don't do what I should because I get all caught up in how it will look; how it will make me look, and how people will receive it. So, an opportunity to do good is wasted and someone who could have been blessed, goes unblessed.
This evening, I logged into my computer and read the latest update on http://pjandashleigh.blogspot.co.uk/. It was the kind of update that makes you laugh and cry at the same time. I could picture Jorja, Ethan and Zac leading all the adults in their lives on a merry dance and it brought back memories of the wonderful special times that Robyn and Ash (their mums) shared with my boys, especially Christopher.
When, when I logged into Google+ to add a comment, I was informed that a person had shared a video that I had uploaded to YouTube in 2008.
When I Cry, was the first thing I ever uploaded anywhere. It was simply a response to what a friend and I were going through at the time. It's a simple video for a very beautiful song, but here's the key: it was a message from the heart that I wanted to share with a friend. And somehow, I believe because of that, people who have watched and listened have looked beyond its weaknesses and failings and received the message from the beautiful song on which it is based.
So, as we head into the final days of preparation for Christmas, my challenge to myself is to make sure that whether I'm giving of my money, my time or myself, I'm always giving from the heart. For surely, that is what Christmas is really about: a Father giving from His heart, without a guarantee that grateful hearts would accept His gift.
Robert Louis Stevenson said: The world has no room for cowards. We must all be ready somehow to toil, to suffer, to die. And yours is not the less noble because no drum beats before you when you go out into your daily battlefields, and no crowds shout about your coming when you return from you daily victory or defeat.
So today let us honour all who fight on battlefields of every description, against enemies without and within: Siyonqoba (We will conquer).
Francine Rivers wrote a book called 'A Lineage of Grace' that I read more than ten years ago. It tells the stories of five unlikely women who changed eternity: Tamar, betrayed by the men who controlled her future, she fought for her right to believe in a loving God. Rahab, a woman with a past, who was given a future by God. Ruth who gave up everything. Bathsheba whose beauty brought great pain and Mary who accepted challenge and great scandal in simple obedience to God. But recently, I've been thinking about the women I come from: 'they're faces in photographs, heads all held high, not afraid to look life in the eye: women with backbone, keepers of the flame,with a spirit even hard times couldn't tame'.
Sarah Geduld, my amazing grandmother who was still globetrotting well into her seventies. She reared her sons and one daughter to stand proud, even through the worst years of apartheid. But she also taught them about gentleness because her son, my father was one of the strongest and gentlest men I have every known. A man who knew an 'allemagtige Vader' and who sang 'Jesus loves me this I know' until we could sing it too. She taught him well, how to cook and clean but also how to be a son, brother, husband and father. My grandmother encouraged us to be strong and speak our minds; she certainly did ... always, whether you wanted to hear it or not.
Then there was Sally Stephens, wife to Charles and mother to Joan, Alice, Janet, Jean, Charlotte, Hazel and Daphne - and Ruby whom we never had the privilege to meet. When my grandfather was away during WWII, she held that family together and made sure that her daughters knew just what their father expected of them. She was always a lady, with a handkerchief in her handbag and the smell of Oil of Olay lingering around her.
Finally, there's my mum who has set her daughters an incredible example as a daughter, wife and mother. Her faith has sustained her and led her to take on challenges that might have crushed a lesser woman. She still opens her door to strangers who knock and offers sustenance, both physical and spiritual. She taught hundreds of children in Sunday School and introduced three generations of her family to Bill Gaither's music and the God that she loves. She made us walk to school but we always knew that if it rained, she'd be there to pick us up (licence or no licence).
Now I have my own children beside me and as they grow into manhood and think about the lives they will live, I want them to know the women they come from.
These are the women you come from;
The faith that sustained them is bred in your bones
You know what you're made of, where you belong
Cause these are the women you come from...
