A Striking Contrast

Juxtapose v. To place or deal with close together for contrasting effect.

I don't know if you can see this in the photo, but behind the ostrich is a jet that has just landed. It is a strange juxtaposition between nature and technology. And if ever there was a country that defined juxtaposition, it is South Africa. Black and white, poverty and wealth, joy and sorrow, pain and healing, frightful and beautiful.... South Africa is all of these. And maybe because of the bad things, the good things shine brighter. Maybe because of the sorrow, the joy is greater. Maybe because of the pain, the healing is more sweet. Maybe because of the fear, the beauty is more stunning.

I will never have the words to adequately say what I'm trying to say, but it reminds me of a passage in the book of Isaiah: "... to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." - Isaiah 61:3

This is my prayer for South Africa tonight, and for all of us.

One Reason I Love South Africa

There are few things in this world more beautiful than a South African sunset. I am glad you don't have to be rich, educated, or know someone who knows someone to enjoy such beauty. It is a gift from God at the end of each day for all South Africans - from Sandton to Soweto, Mamelodi to Margate.

Grace Notes

A grace note is defined as "an extra note added as an embellishment and not essential to the harmony or melody." A bonus, if you will, akin to putting 25¢ in the gumball machine and getting TWO gumballs instead of one.

Sometimes life has grace notes as well. One can have a horrible day, and then when it is most unexpected, a bit of joy catches us unawares, embellishes our day, gives us encouragement or comfort. It may not be "essential" but it causes one to pause, smile, and muster the strength to go on.

I am privileged to know a group of ladies who are like grace notes to me. We come from different backgrounds, different churches, and what brought us together was that we all have kids with special needs. We gather once a week to pray for each other and offer what encouragement and comfort we can (okay, and there's coffee, too).

When I moved to South Africa, they moved our group online so I could still participate. When I was pining about missing winter Christmases, they sent me a Christmas box in June filled with my favourite goodies from home. When I am down, they send encouraging emails.

What is amazing about these ladies is that they listen to me, even if I'm having a pity party. They'll set me straight - that's what friends do - but they do it gently and lovingly ("Annie, you're WRONG! Snap out of it!"). If that doesn't work, whacking me on the head with a flip flop usually does the trick. And when I think about it - when I think about their life circumstances and what they have gone through - I realise how little I have to complain about.

They encourage me, they love me even when I am unlovely, they admonish me, they aren't afraid to tell me they disagree, and they always challenge me to be more like Jesus. They are the grace notes of my life, and I am a more beautiful piece of music because of them.

Welcome To Africa's First 4D Theatre.... I Think.

Ever have one of those moments where you realise you desperately need to get away as a family? We've been feeling like that lately, so we went to Gold Reef City, a theme park in Johannesburg (by the way, five people can get into Gold Reef City for the price of ONE Disneyland ticket. How's that for a bargain?).

Of course, in typical South African fashion, the power went out. In the whole park. So while everyone was waiting for the electricity to come back on, the marimba bands, gum boot dancers and Zulu "warriors" entertained us all. We also got to watch firemen rescue people who were stuck at the top of the "Tower of Terror" ride (which, ironically, lived up to its name).

When the power came back on, we headed over to the 4D theatre, where you watch a movie with 3D glasses, but your seat moves, scents are sprayed, etc., so you feel like you're a part of the movie. Only....

Because the power had gone out, the ride wasn't quite functioning properly. They had one movie playing, but the movement track for the other movie was running the seats, so your seat would do really random things that didn't match what you were watching. We watched a video of the earth spinning, with relaxing classical music playing, but our seats were rumbling up and down (ka-CHUNK, ka-CHUNK, ka-CHUNK). So they stopped the movie, turned the lights on, opened the doors, and let a bunch more people into the theatre (because, if they have to fix it, they can at least let all those in the queue enter, right?)

So the lights dimmed, the movie came on, and the voice said, "Welcome to Africa's first 4D Theatre..." but it was still on the wrong programme, so just as the soothing voice welcomed us, the seats in front of us sprayed water into our faces! The movie was stopped once again, the lights came back on, the doors were opened, more people were let in... and one of the ride operators said, "Don't worry, I'll have it fixed in just a minute!" But right after he said that, everyone's seats suddenly flipped back 90 degrees so that we were all staring at the roof!

Dan and I started laughing so hard that by the by time they got the two programmes synced, it wasn't half as entertaining as when it was malfunctioning, and my stomach hurt so bad from laughing that I could hardly breathe. Score one for power outages!

Yup, I'm Still a Foreigner...

When you move to another country, you embark on a journey of discovery. Some discoveries are enlightening; others are perplexing.

If you keep an open mind, there are many things that will lead to an "Aha! That makes sense! In fact, I wish everyone in my home country did things this way!" On the flip side, there are many things that will lead to an "I can't figure this out for the life of me!"

One of the things I can't figure out here in South Africa is: When you go to the grocery store, why are all the cucumbers individually shrink-wrapped in plastic? How come none of the other fruit is? I don't get it...

Thoughts on Forgiveness

"Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, 'Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?' Jesus answered, 'I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven times.' " - Matthew 18:21-22

I bet Peter thought he was being pretty magnanimous by offering to forgive seven times. Jesus' answer cured him of that. And if I am honest with myself, I have to admit that I don't like these verses because they don't leave me any loopholes, any excuse to hang on to grudges, grievances, or rationalisations. I have to forgive, simple as that. Again and again and again and again.

But what does it mean, exactly, to say, "I forgive you"? I mean, what am I actually saying when I use that phrase?

Saying "I forgive you" doesn't mean that things are okay. I don't know why Americans do this, but when someone apologises to us, or even asks for forgiveness, we tend to say, "Oh, it's okay. Don't worry about it." I suppose we're trying to be polite, but the fact is, if it were "okay", the person wouldn't have need to apologise or seek forgiveness in the first place.

Saying "I forgive you" doesn't mean "I forget what you did," because we often can't forget. Unless we suffer from Alzheimer's or amnesia, our brains record life events and we can recall those events any time we want (or don't want. Have you ever noticed how a certain smell, a certain phrase, or even a place can evoke strong memories?).

Saying "I forgive you" isn't a once-off thing. It might be, to the person who has offended us, but in our hearts we sometimes have to forgive over and over. Anger and bitterness can come back so quickly - try to get a foothold or find an open door - and we have to fight that, sometimes hour by hour.

As best I understand it then, to say "I forgive you" is akin to saying something like: "I will bear the cost of your sin against me, and I will bear it ungrudgingly."

Thoughts on Loving Your Enemy

"It was then I began to see what Dostoevsky had learned in prison: the gospel of grace infiltrates this world not primarily through words and rational arguments but through deeds, through love. The people I was learning to admire most... were expressing their faith in action, incarnationally... To follow Jesus, I learned, does not mean to solve every human problem - Christ Himself did not attempt that - but rather to respond as He did, against all reason to dispense grace and love to those who deserve it least." - Philip Yancy, Soul Survivor

Jesus said to love your enemies and to do good to those who persecute you (Luke 6:27). I think for most of my life I have taken that to mean: don't say out loud what I'm thinking, don't seek revenge, and don't harbor anger or bitterness. I think, however, doing only that falls far short of the mark.

I am realising that loving and doing good to people goes way beyond not doing mean things; it requires doing good things. So... how do you love an enemy? How do you do good to those who persecute you? Does it mean mowing their lawn when they're on holiday? Sharing your favourite chocolates with them? Making a cup of coffee for them?

I think it must be different for each person in any given situation. God told me to write a lullaby and I thought He was mad. Turns out I was the mad one, and singing lullabies helped diffuse that anger.