“Faith enough”

What do you complain about the most?

When I moved to Cape Town for university, my first priority was to join a Bible-preaching church.

When my soon-to-be husband moved to Germany, I urged him, “Please find a Bible-preaching church.”

When we moved to England, our first quest was to find a Bible-preaching church.

I’ve found churches that fit this label. I’ve sought church as a home when I had none, a family when mine was on the other side of the world, a place to accommodate differences, welcome, teach, love. A place where Jesus is found. I’ve sought surrogate grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins for my children as I’ve sought the fulfilment of Christ’s promises.

I’ve put so much hope in the church.

And then…

Another sermon preached only to men.

Another pastor found guilty of abuse.

Another shaming of hard-working people because they’re not in vocational ministry.

Another woman isolating homeschooling mums.

Another elder who can’t look a woman in the eye.

The disillusionment is almost tangible.

Perhaps I’m guilty of being a “consumer” in church. Perhaps I just need ministering to.

I don’t deny the hypocrisy, the intense disappointment that what even I thought was possible in a fallen world, still falls short. We are a collection of weak vessels, jars of clay, a hulking mass with slack ropes. We are a very poor reflection of our Redeemer.

But in the end, hope was never to be found in the church. Faith is born in places that are impossible. It’s born in barren places, despite what is visibly dead. It’s hope against hope.

It’s born of Someone who raises the dead. Who calls into being things that don’t exist.

I was made aware of this song last night, from a person ministering in one of the darkest places in the world. It’s another drop of pure crystal water in a dry land to keep us going.

And I’m reminded that I’ve often found myself here: so very very sad that we’re not any better at being what Christ called us to be, hardly daring to believe the reality of what I see. And someone says the thing I need to hear and my heart is soft enough to hear it. And I believe that the church is still alive.

One step at a time.

Humility in victory, graciousness in defeat

What are your favorite sports to watch and play?

Favourite to play?

I’ve never been “sporty.” At best I’m inconsistent. Much to the frustration of my netball teacher at school, I was at times good enough to be on the A team, then the next week severely demoted.

I remember her striding up to me and, inches away from my face, saying:

“WHO is putting pressure on you?”

At the time it totally mystified me. Now I find it hilarious.

These days I run a fair amount and regularly do Pilates to help with chronic issues, but if ballet counts as sport, that remains my favourite.

Favourite to watch

I’m biased when it comes to watching sport.

When I was a young idealist adolescent, the new South Africa hosted the Rugby World Cup. We had been excluded from the first two competitions because of the previous apartheid government’s atrociously racist policies. We made it to the final and Nelson Mandela, our president, famously donned the number 6 Springbok jersey, the jersey of the white Springbok captain, and visually demonstrated how our nation can be wise, welcoming to all, tolerant and gracious. At the end of the match, the Springbok team knelt on the pitch to pray and gave humble thanks to God for their victory.

It’s wonderful but it’s not that surprising. South Africa is a nation of prayer. Some say we were in the midst of a revival at the time, and I believe it. So much that could have gone horribly wrong in the 90s in South Africa, didn’t go wrong. So much went right. I saw so many people pray. I have a lot to be grateful for.

Rugby is a brutal sport. I warned my daughters that there is a lot of “pushing”. The rules have to be extremely strict to protect the players. But even today, Springbok players are open about their faith in Jesus. It reflects in the way many of them play. They work hard, they encourage each other, they are welcoming to the outcast. The are humble in victory, gracious in defeat.

The team players have many stories to tell: of learning to follow Jesus, of people believing in them despite their mistakes, of coming from extreme poverty. The coach has wept over them. When the All Blacks (the fearsome New Zealand team) performed the haka, the Springbok captain sang while facing the battle cry. He leads them in calm, clear-headedness in a sport that looks like a battle, knowing what a real battle is like.

So I’m biased when it comes to sport. Rugby is my favourite not so much because of the sport itself, but because of what it represents.

It was sealed as my favourite when our country was steered away from civil war. It’s a symbol of the grace that was poured out on us.

It has stayed my favourite because of the values the Springbok team upholds.

They are values still upheld by South Africa. Recently my nephew won the Sportsmanship Award at his local primary school in Cape Town. Among other things, it is awarded to someone who displays a positive attitude towards match officials, opposition players, and his team mates.

Who displays humility in victory and graciousness in defeat.

Rhythms and Rest

What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?

I’ve tried to honour the Sabbath since I was a teenager. I’ve not always known how to do it, but in the second chapter of Genesis, it says that God declared that the seventh day is holy, and I love the rhythm that comes from that.

It’s not always easy to know what a Sabbath rest looks like, especially when we’re helping at church, food needs to be cooked, things need to be tidied and people need to be fed, but whatever I’m doing, I try and do it restfully. I don’t make it a burden, but I love the relinquishing of things at sunset on Saturday nights.

I get my shopping done, I often make a big stew on Friday nights (my cooking isn’t much to be celebrated anyway), I limit my phone usage, I have an afternoon nap. I encourage my children to get their homework done on Saturday. It’s a letting go and remembering that we’re not in charge. It’s restful and liberating.

On that day one of my favourite things to do is spend time with my family. Whether I’m reading to them (we’re currently doing Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country), or playing board games, as long as we’re relaxing together, I love it. Long may these times last.

This past year, I’ve found three things fit together like a jigsaw puzzle: art, audiobooks, and my daughter.

I love to paint watercolours, my daughter loves colouring in or diamond art and we both love audiobooks. We’ve been enjoying Stephen Fry reading JK Rowling’s Harry Potter series, as well as a truly gorgeous tween series called The Sinclair’s Mysteries by Katherine Woodfine, read beautifully by Jessica Preddy, about a young female detective in Victorian England. I hope we get many more hours doing this before my daughter is too grown up for it.

Which home?

Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.

It’s funny. I read this and I don’t know what is meant by “home”.

If home is where I grew up in Kwa-Zulu Natal, it would be the Drakensberg mountain range. Central Southern Africa is at a relatively high elevation, and the Drakensberg is where the land crashes down in the form of mountains on the eastern side, as you go towards the Indian Ocean. I lived near its foothills, I’ve been driven through it to and from Johannesburg, and I got a taste of it on one or two church camps, but I’ve never really explored its most famous sites.

Cape Town feels the closest to home for me. These days my news feed is full of back to school photos there. The sunlight is so gorgeous I can almost taste it. I can smell the Cape pine trees and the shade they bring. In my love for it I think I’ve covered every corner of it. But I still have to paraglide off Lion’s Head.

If home is England, I want to see Durdle Door in Dorset.

Fun

List five things you do for fun.

1. I run. I have various chronic complaints that require me to do this, but it also means I can listen to whatever music I like, I can run to the places I love and I feel good afterwards, so it’s fun.

2. I do ballet. I dance in the kitchen and whenever there is space (and not too many people are watching)

3. I paint. I try to sell my paintings so it’s kind of work, but I enjoy it.

4. I read easy books. Something interesting but nothing intense or too heavy. My kids’ home-school curriculum has good options for the older years. Right now I’m reading The Return by Hisham Matar because a review of it by the New York Times made it seem very attractive. It hasn’t disappointed. The subject is heavy but it is written tenderly.

5. I nap. I love my naps.

“It must not be like that among you”

What makes a good leader?

Power and control are very attractive to people. For some it’s about fame, for others it’s about a genuine desire to fix things.

Some men think that power and control are intrinsic to being a man, and that they are being godly when they exercise it even at the expense of others.

But a good leader is not one seeking power or control. He does not see people he serves as threats to him, or alternatively, vessels given to him to fulfil his needs. He is not more concerned with protecting himself than engaging with others. A leader is not one who portrays an image of himself for glory and forgets his own humanity, or who blames others for his mistakes.

A leader is one who will look people in the eye and not be afraid, who is gentle and cares, who engages, who listens, who commends, who encourages.

In short, a leader is one concerned with serving.

Jesus called them over and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those in high positions act as tyrants over them. It must not be like that among you. On the contrary, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Matthew 20:25-28 CSB

It was revolutionary back then, and it’s still revolutionary today. Good leadership is self-emptying. Loving.

Jesus set the standard for good leadership. It is the leadership that truly changes the world.

Electric hand-dryers

If you could un-invent something, what would it be?

If there was one thing that made an outing with potty-training toddlers extra hard (and frankly, it would already be a super stressful event), it was those electric hand-dryers.

They are terribly noisy. They seem to hit at just the right decibel to hurt little people sensitive to loud noises. If someone used the dryer while we were in the restroom, I would be holding my kids close to me and covering their ears until it was over.

When I did use them (before kids), most of the time they didn’t even work. Hands were still damp.

As there is often no alternative, we end up drying our hands on my clothing.

We love a restroom with recycled paper towels and a rubbish bin.