Turning the other cheek

It sure isn't easy to turn the other cheek. 

We want justice. 
We want what is rightfully ours. 
We want to be treated fairly. 
We want what we deserve.
We want what we have been promised.

And if we are not treated the way we want to be treated, we are fighting fit and ready for action.

"Turn the other cheek my child". 
"Why Lord why?  It's unfair!  Look at what they are doing! Are You just going to ignore this injustice???
Silence.  No answer.  He already spoke.  Now He waits so see what I will do.

I wish I could master the art of turning the other cheek.  It must be an art - that's why it's so difficult.  But God wants us to be different and this is one way to be different from the world.  We shouldn't fight for our rights, we should just turn the other cheek.

I am battling.  Really.

What is your label?

In the last blog, I discussed the concept that we as children of God, needs to be different from the world.  It's not that easy.  I know that all too well.  Why is it so difficult?  I think I managed to identify one possible problem.  The problem of labels.

We get labelled as we go through life by people we encounter along the way.  Our parents label us, our friends label us, our partners label us, every person you encounter has the potential to put a label on you.  The sad thing it that we accept the labels.  Some labels are good, some labels are bad.  Very bad.  The label I carry is very bad.

Since I can remember my mother described me as a difficult person, a person with a bad temper, a person always ready to fight and so the list goes on.  One person I worked with several years ago said I don't just shoot from the hip, I use an Uzi.  Gradually the label I carried became my character. 

My names didn't help either, it just added fuel to the fire.  My first name means battle or war.  My second name means battle maid.  Go figure.  I believe in that thing of life and death that reside in the power of the tongue.  So every time somebody calls my name, they call me the battle maid actually.  I have tried to kill this battle maid, believe me.  I tried dying to self and I  succeeded at times for weeks.  Until somebody pushed the wrong button and the battle maid jumped out.  Every time I looked at her and wondered who kept her alive all this time???  I thought she was dead!  Maybe I should change my name to a name with the most gentle meaning.  If I could have any assurance that it would work, I would do it.


People that know me expect me to react in this battle maid fashion.  They approach me ready to fight and then we end up fighting anyway.  The only exception is my husband.  He sees me as a gentle person and my gentle side is all he ever gets.  Not even when I am upset with him does he see the person other people always tell him about.  Why?  Because he labelled me differently.

I want to be free from my label.  It won't be a quick and easy process, I know that.  I have to train my mind to think differently, to have different expectations from people and to react differently.  But I am going to try.  I have to. 

I don't want the character of this label anymore.  I want the character of God.
 
What label do you have?  Who labelled you?  Are you reacting to that label?  If you can, please comment and tell your story too - there might be somebody out there who needs to read it.

Be different

Yesterday I mentioned that the ground underneath my spiritual feet is rumbling with change.  Today I will give you an example.  Three days is a row, three different places, three different people: I got the same message, even with the scripture included.  Here it is:

Romans 12:1-2

So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. 

So God wants us to be different.  Ask yourself the question, as I am asking myself the question today:
Am I really different? 

The scripture above refers to everyday life, life in the office included.  Let's ponder on a few questions and trust Holy Spirit to speak into our hearts as we do.

• Do we sound different or is our language the same as that of the unsaved?  
• Do we react differently when times get tough?  Can people see we have a 'handle' to hold on to that they possible do not have?
• Do we react differently when people do stupid things?
• What do they see in our eyes when they look at us?  Do they see unconditional love and acceptance, only made possible by God in us?  Or do they see the human judgement and rejection we all so easily dish out?

All of the above can be summed up in one question:
Do we bear the fruit of the Spirit according to Galatians 5:22? 

If the answer is no, we should ask ourselves whether we really have the Spirit inside us.

To be continued....

The season is changing

I am referring to my spiritual season.  There is change underway.  I can feel the rumble of the ground under my spiritual feet and it's not a pleasant feeling.  I know this feeling.  I felt it many times before.  I know what's coming and it's scaring the daylights out of me.

My comfort zone is suddenly everything but comfortable.  I am challenged on all sides to start moving.  And I am honest if I say I don't like it.  It's nice here where I am.  I am not doing much, I don't have much responsibility, I deserve the rest after all that has happened.  Clearly God is not in agreement with me.  My rest has continued long enough.  Now in His opinion, I am not resting, I am stagnating.  So change is due.

I remember years ago I one day prayed a prayer out of pure stupidity.  I prayed that God will teach me patience.  Big mistake.   I won't ever ask for that again.  I wanted to sew a piece of clothing that day.  First the yarn on the overlocker broke.  I had to re-thread all four spools of yarn.  Then the needle broke.  I replaced the needle.  Then the tension went out for some obscure reason.  After investigation I found the yarn had mysteriously slipped out of it's pathway, causing a loss of tension.  Re-threaded the overlocker again.  And just as I thought it was all sorted, the whole cycle repeated itself.  Several times.  Until eventually I threw everything down and went outside in an anger rage.  Only to hear the soft voice of Holy Spirit: "I am trying to teach you patience".

Be careful what you pray for.  God might just grant your request.

This time I didn't ask for anything.  I was quite content to continue my spiritual laziness.  God decided it's time for change.  I am scared.  I know that God is more interested in my character than in my material well-being.  As a normal run-of-the-mill person, I am more interested in my material well-being that in my character.  Are we not all like this?  It's difficult to change our focus to place importance on the things that God see as important.  A change of character is not easy.  It's not for sissies.  In times like this, God has to burn away the impurities so that His character can shine through.  It's traumatic.  It's painful.  It's uncomfortable.  It's sore.  And I know it's coming.

The most difficult part of this is to just surrender and say: "Okay God, here I am.  Break me.  Mould me.  Make me what You want me to be".

I can't pray that prayer just yet.  I am too scared.

Life's Race

We are all part of this race and we cannot escape it.  We call it the rat race.  We are addicted to the rat race.  Oh sure, we moan about it whenever we can, but seldom do we put on the brakes.  Oh no, we choose to maintain the pace or even to go faster.  We can't wait to check the emails even though our souls are desperate for a rest.  The moment we get home, we start the laptops to make sure we don't miss an email.  We moan when we have to drive our kids around; we wanted to work in that time.  We don't want to visit friends; we don't have time for that.  When we go on holiday, we replacing the rat race at home with a rat race on holiday, darting from one place to the next, seldom leaving time for quiet restoration.  We are all running so fast, we don't see what is happening along life's journey.

When I got this email today, it made me stop dead in my tracks.  I want to share it with you. 

THE BRICK

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. 

As his car passed, no children appeared.   Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door!   

He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.

The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against   a parked car shouting,  'What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?' 

The young boy was apologetic. 'Please, mister...please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do,' He pleaded. 'I threw the brick because no one else would stop...' With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. 'It's my brother, 'he said 'He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.'

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, 'Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.'

Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat... He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay. 'Thank you and may God bless
you,' the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home...

It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message: 'Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!' God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not. 

 

May we stop before God has to throw a brick...

Addicted to...

The adrenalin of writing an exam.  That's what I am addicted to.  Crazy, I know.  Some days I moan and wonder why I got myself into this again!  Surely at my age, life should be peaceful and stress should be limited to the office boundaries.  Not me.  Oh no.  First it was a year certificate course in communication.  And you know what, I still don't communicate that well.  Not in person anyway.  I can write brilliant reports and beautiful letters, but speaking my mind is not my favourite.  Unless I am angry and then communication is even worse.  So much for the certificate on my wall.

Then came the management diploma.  I finished that last year.  I was delighted when the results came and I realised I was done!  At last!

But alas, the end was still not in sight.  My dearest husband and I decided that we will tackle a BCom in Informatics together, so here I go again.

Tomorrow is my first exam.  Economics.  Bleh.  Really not the nicest subject.  Still, it has to be done.

I have butterflies in my tummy thinking of what lies ahead tomorrow.  I feel slightly lightheaded when I think of the exam.  I still have some serious studying to do tonight.  Instead of studying last week when I had a lot of time, I chose to knit with my Mom.  Priorities, Priorities.

So pray for me!  Pray for wisdom and insight and a serenity of mind.  I seriously need your prayers!

My Mother

She agreed to visit me for just over a week.  I was very surprised but absolutely delighted.  She doesn't like leaving her own space.  Sleeping in a strange bed has become an uncomfortable experience for her.  She tried to overcome that by bringing her own pillows.  Drinking another brand of coffee is taboo, so she brought her own just in case.  Cremora in her coffee is a must, so she brought her own jar of that as well - just in case I didn't have.  Even soap is an issue - she brought her own brand with her.  I quietly smiled at all of this.

Every day we spent knitting.  Some conversations were deep and we cried more than once.  Some conversations were full of giggles as we gossiped over everyone we knew.  Some stories were told to me a few times - she can't remember that she had already told them to me.  I didn't mind - each time I listened as if it was the first time I heard it.  Each time I laughed at the funny parts as if I never heard it before.  Just because it was her telling the story.

There were long periods of silence too.  Times where the only audible sound were the knitting needles.  It didn't bother us.  We were quite content to just be in each others company.  It has become a rare luxury in the rushed world I live in.  Her world is that of a pensioner.  My world is still a rat race that I can't escape.

Sometimes, she was so absorbed by her knitting that she didn't notice I was quietly staring at her.  Taking in every little line on her face.  Looking at her eyebrows that has become so thin.  Her cheeks that are slightly sunken.  The skin on her hands that were thin and nearly transparent.  She had become so old.  She is so small compared to what she used to be.  She is frail. 

I was so blessed to have her with me for these few days.  I don't know if I will be blessed like that again.  Her years are many - 76 of them.  The only prayer I have for her now, is that God will answer her prayer.  Every day she prays that God will take her in her sleep.  She doesn't want to be sick, she doesn't want to suffer.  And she believes that He will.  He promised in His word to grant us the desires of our hearts.  Her desire is to go quietly.  May God grant her that desire.