Tuesday, 31 December 2013


Over the last 18 months, I’ve only ever felt hurt by South Africans twice.  Interestingly, the wounding came at the hands of white South Africans and both times, it was because of my nationality. Both times, I did not know the people, truly.

I have no say over my nationality and they have no governance over theirs. So why treat someone spitefully because of it? This is MY country, my president, my pain, my history,  my land. Geographical boundaries--seems a strange determiner of friendship; of human bonds.

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

On Being Seen

To be seen. That's really what I want, isn't it? To be seen, to be felt. I have spent too many years living on the circumference of life, being busy. Or being seen as being busy, therefore important. Nonsense. This busyness is  a disguise to keep people from looking deeper. I cover up what I do not know, because I myself do not know. I have been afraid to look, for fear that I won't see anything worthwhile.

Now I see dimly. I'm beginning to see more fully. I see that I camouflage myself so that my true, transendent spirit does not come to light. Those in my circles would not approve of my true spirit thoughts and dreams. So I disguise them, and myself.

Wednesday, 27 November 2013


Thanksgiving is not about the contemplation of given things. It is the recognition and reflection on what has been and what will always be.

Double Sided Belief

If we treated pride, greed and gluttony with as much vehemence as we do homosexuality, we would have no friends, no family, no life. 

Moving On

Moving from a cessationist ideology to a whole-hearted continualist belief system is not something I argued and proved in my head or rationalized into existence. The Holy Spirit is not a puzzle to be figured but a Spirit to be felt. He is word to be tasted; Beauty to be seen. 

I would not be able to argue my post modern mind into believing that the Holy Spirit moves and breathes today, just as we read about in the New Testament, unless I had some tangible, touchable proof. The gift of speaking in tongues, miracles, signs and wonders all weave in and out of my everyday life.  This experiential knowledge is more than I need to believe. It chased after me, relentlessly giving me glimpse of deepest heaven. It has filled this vacuum, this void in my spirit that theology could not. It is wave upon wave of love and joy. It is colors and textures and visions and dreams. It is a language I don't understand, yet communicate with.

Sunday, 17 November 2013

Tuesday, 12 November 2013

“Sometimes I could put myself to sleep saying that over and over until after the honeysuckle got all mixed up in it the whole thing came to symbolize night and unrest I seemed to be lying neither asleep nor awake looking down a long corridor of grey halflight where all stable things had become shadowy paradoxical all I had done shadows all I had felt suffered taking visible form antic and perverse mocking without relevance inherent themselves with the denial of the significance they should have affirmed thinking I was I was not who was not was not who.”
William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury
“Wonder. Go on and wonder.”-William Faulkner
“I am not one of those women who can stand things.”
William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury