Good News!

Is there anything like it? Yesterday, I got a little taste of it: Good news, actually great news! I was so happy. I was crying and laughing at the same time, and my 9 year old was looking at me with a strange expression of amazement and worry. I was so giddy, I just wanted to phone somebody and yell out my good news.

My older kids came home with truckloads of problems for me to deal with and listen to, and I was so calm. None of the usual worry and problem solving going on inside my head. It was if I was standing in a field of beautiful flowers with the sun baking down on my face. I could see my kitchen with children talking and winter weather seeping through the windows only in the far distance. I was riding on the “Good News Cloud” and nothing could touch me.

And then, of course, some bad news came. The bad news was actually about the good news so it was literally as if you took a pin and pricked my good news balloon. Did I take it well and stood in faith like a decent woman of God is supposed to do? Nope. I was flat! I’m sure there’s a more eloquent way to describe this feeling I had. But seriously, I wasn’t low, or down, or discouraged, no I was downright flat! Anybody?

In my ongoing state of lowliness, last night, God reminded me of something my dearest Grandma said earlier that day. We call her “Ouma” which is Afrikaans for grandma. She is 88 year old, and just the sweetest little lady. I am always amazed at her positive attitude towards life even though she is very ill. Today she reminded me to take hold of the wonderful moments in life, because those become precious memories when you grow old. She was pondering that day on potty training me and my cousin and a few other memories that our conversation triggered.

It’s said that that life only has it’s perfect moments, not days or even hours, only moments, and we should grab a hold of those or miss it. I should know that by now, but I keep wanting to squeeze a little more perfection or happiness out of life, demanding that those moments last longer.

Actually, like I’m sure my Ouma knows at her very ripe and wise age, life is short. My prayer, at least for this day, is that I will grab a hold of those precious perfect moments and really live it, not just watch it go by. And then when all the other moments of “nothing special’ or “monotony” or “sorrow” or “anxiety” show up, I might be more inclined to stand in faith that God is ultimately in control, and this too will pass to make way for another precious moment.

It’s war baby!

How do I forget so easily? It amazes me that I always need to be reminded that we’re in a war. And by this I don’t mean physical war (although that’s a huge reality for certain families right now). The war that I’m referring to is in the Spiritual realm. We can’t see it but we are in it and we experience casualties, pain and confusion every day.

Now, of course this is a controversial subject. People would rather deny the existence of a war and thus hope to avoid the repercussions of it. But we can’t, I can’t… It’s evident that we can not be Switzerland in all of this.

If I take a step back and look at my own life I can see the battle clearly: Difficulty in my marriage, problems with the kids, relationships that vanish, jobs that don’t work out, financial crisis… to just name a few. I’m not naive, I know about the part that I play by making the wrong choices and being disobedient. However, I also know that in the midst of life on this earth, that tends to be hard, I can’t afford to be an open target. I can’t afford NOT to choose sides: And yes there is no middle ground.

So I’m so glad when God reminds me to get in there and take part in the battle. I’m so glad every time He uses the Bible, a friend, a book or a circumstance to remind me that by not facing the enemy head on I am leaving my back open for him to shoot anyway. In this day I want to remind everyone I can to again pick up the sword, strap on the armour and stand. There is joy in the standing, there is victory over addiction, habits and temptation. There is peace in coming under the wing of our Commander in Chief, resting in the knowing that He fights for us, and He commands angels at our disposal.

To deny the existence of the war is to swim in dangerous water without a lifeline. I’m choosing again today to open my eyes, to stand and fight for my freedom, my family and my marriage.

The tale of the Crazy Woman!

I can not believe how different two days can be. It makes me understand and love that verse about God’s mercies being new every morning so much more!

Yesterday was one of that Murphy’s law days for me: You know, everything that could go wrong indeed did go wrong!

By 10am I was ready to run into the mountains like a wild woman, screaming. Okay, fair enough, it was my first day of potty training my little girl and I also had some work to get done, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. The rest of the day followed suit and by the evening I was ready to pull out my own hair. I did everything a good mother should never do, everything a good wife would not even think about, and everything a child of God is not suppose to do (well not everything, but you get the picture).
My little tree was standing barren in the winter sun without one ounce of fruit on it. The words peace, joy and especially self-control was so far removed from me that I could not fathom their meaning. In the midst of this I received devastating phone calls and news to the extend of my knees buckling under the burden. And so I did what every respectable lady should do: I clenched my jaw, buckled my belt (okay no belt) and I decided that I will show this day a thing or two. Needles to say, by the evening, after a rally with a few rude salespeople at the store and the worst customer service ever, I was ready to admit defeat. This day got the better of me. Some days I have absolutely NO control over anything, and the more I try the worse it becomes. I am after all not in control of my own life, and I am after all not as strong as I think I am. By 10pm I was a sobbing pile of misery.

Did I finally bent my knees and let it go? No off course not! I tried to see if the TV, my husband or a magazine could pull me out of my pit of despair: Yeah, you know it; no such luck!

It was only this morning that I got the message. Everybody was off to school and work and miraculously the little people in my house were still sound asleep. I heard it in the silence, I felt it in my bones: I need living water, I need to stop trying to control something that can not be controlled, I need to let God take over. I didn’t have to do much. I just laid down my weary head on a not-vacuumed carpet and let His mercies sweep over me…

And today? Today is a different day, packed with mercies and laden with fruit, and I’m grateful, because I’m well aware that tomorrow can be another “yesterday”. Then again, I was reminded of His mercies, and I’m not so afraid of tomorrow, because I’m not in control anyway…