Hello after four long, hard and Interesting Years!

I have heard that a successful blog should have regular postings. I guess that means a four year plus gap between posts doesn't make for exciting blogging. From here on I promise to most more regularly - hey I might even do one a year : -). So what happened?

I continued my ministry in the small rural town of Delmas. I grew immensely as a person during this time. I also grew in my understanding of what it means to be a follower of Christ. I enrolled and completed a Masters in Organizational Leadership at Regent University in the USA (online). I gained great insights in what it means to be a leader and in how organizations work and develop. Then at the end of 2013 I called everything quits! There was a few reasons for this. My wife got offered a partnership at a hospital in nearby Benoni, a town in the greater Johannesburg area (she is a physiotherapist). Before being able to buy in, she had to work full-time at the practice for a year in 2014. It would have prevented her from much involvement with our son had we stayed in Delmas. She made many sacrifices for my career and I thought that maybe this time I should be making the sacrifice, find a job in Benoni and move the family. Also I just finished my MOL degree and wanted to gain some corporate experience and plain life experience outside of a church setting. I have to admit I also wanted more money. So I applied for a job as a sales rep at a pharmaceutical company, got the position and took the leap. It was a leap I would come to regret dearly...

At first I loved my new job. I met lots of new people, I enjoyed applying my people skills from ministry  to my new job and a part of my personality relished the competitive environment I found myself in. But soon I struggled with meaning. My tasks became repetitive and the admin load back breaking and boring. I got involved with a local church and soon felt a constant aching longing to return to ministry. I had to come to the painful conclusion that I was in fact a Jonah and a greedy one at that. I found myself in a dark fish of depression and anxiety and I saw no hope. What kept me going was my involvement at the local church where I preached regularly and later also my involvement with a church plant in a poor neighborhood.

Eventually I talked to my country manager at the pharmaceutical company with whom I never really connected and told him I wanted out. I have signed a two year contract but fortunately I let me off the hook. I will finish at the company at the end of December 2014. I currently work three days for the company and two days for the congregation in Actonville (through the generosity of a businessman with a passion for the church). From next year the chances look good that I will be employed by a local chruch in a 2/3 post enabling me to continue my work in Actonville. I am on my way back by the grace of God and very thankful for it!

One incident during my ministry in Delmas the past four years needs mentioning. It had a life changing impact on me. One day I got called out to a day care where a tragedy happened. The tragedy involved two of my congregants-the 67 year old carer and a five month old baby. Both have been brutally and senselessly murdered, presumably by the gardener. The incident soon attracted   the attention of the media and I had my hands full in comforting the devastated parents of the child and the family of the carer together with handling the questions from the media and the community. With the help of others we managed to handle all this quite well. We organized a night vigil attended by the parents at the house where the incident took place and in a touching way the community grieved together. But thing were about to turn for the worse...

A far right group, hearing that the alleged murderer  was a black man, interpreted the event as a racially driven crime (which it was not). The voiced their opinion in local newspapers and finally came with a group of about 80 people to our town and marched in a demonstration with racist slogans to our municipal offices. Here they burned the new Southafrican flag.

I decided to write a letter to the local newspaper explaining that this group was not members of the local community and that in now way their actions represent the thinking of the local white community of Delmas. After this letter got published hell broke lose. I got death threats and nameless letters. A far right wing group threatened to disrupt one of my congregations church services which they did. The notorious Piet "Skiet" marched up to the pulpit during my sermon on the need for reconciliation. Fortunately they sat when I asked them to and we had a discussion after the service.


I decided to arrange a multi-cultural community march against crime and racism and with the help of the community succeeded. 300 people gathered in the centre of town. A white-black chain of prayer was formed and it will stand out as one of the most touching events in my life. I was excited about the future prospects of reconciliation in our town. I was also drained after the months after this event and felt burnt out. This feeling might have played a role in my decision to leave Delmas. I was disappointed and somewhat angered by the fact that no real new actions for reconciliation came forth after this event.

So in short, this was what happened. There is much more to be told so stay tuned...

Getting the church's hands dirty

Yesterday was Mandela Day, Nelson Mandela's birthday and a day on which people are encouraged to spend 67minutes in the service of humanity. Me and my wife decided to pick up litter in our little town's main street. The morning at church I invited congregation members to join us. Ten guys showed up and we started cleaning a segment. We chatted and I got to know a few people that I didn't even know belonged to our congregation. It felt great looking back over the stretch we cleaned after 60 or so minutes! A scene that will stay with me forever is when we finished and everybody raised their hands in the air to show each other how dirty it is.

There is something about a group of twelve that gets their hands dirty in service of Christ and their community that excites me!

A Child shall lead them

A congregation here in Delmas collaborate with an American organization and the local community in our Township Botleng to built houses for poor people. When I visited the project the first time, kids popped up out of nowhere and started playing with my son. They gave him a cookie. The next time we visited, I bought a bag of lollies, gave it to Steph and told him to hand it out to his friends. My son experienced the joy of giving. He insisted on not even having one himself (and he love lollies!) so that he can give to more kids. After his generosity he played his heart out with them and I had to torn him away from his new friends when it was time to leave. Should we raise children or should we allow them to show us the way? Sometimes I wonder...

Diarrhea

Today I took my little one year old daughter to the doctor. Since Saturday she suffered from diarrhea, keeping her mom awake and refusing to eat. I bought some over the counter medicine but there weren't any improvement. While I sat waiting for the doctor in the waiting room, I picked up a Time magazine (August 17 2009). I opened it at an article about diarrhea in Africa that until recently killed 1,6 million children each year. By a happy twist of fate they found out that a daily supplement of zinc cures diarrhea quickly and effectively. Also, the Rota virus vacination will soon become the norm and that will save even more lives.

I read about how with great difficulty people ensure that zinc supplements are brought to remote villages. I on the other hand can go to specialized care, a phone call away. My daughter got the Rota virus vaccination without me even knowing it and therefore has the diarrhea very mildly. Had I been living in Mali, my daughter may very well have died of this disease. It's like every day I realise how privileged I am. There are people everywhere who has it really tough.

Tsidi's sad story

When we moved from Johannesburg to Bloemfontein four years ago a miracle walked into our lives. Isabel was far along and about to give birth to our first born. We were on the lookout for a domestic help with no luck. That is until an angel named Alina knocked on our door. From the first day we got along very well. We decided to pay Alina far above the minimum wage required in South Africa and helped her with what we could. Alina is a truly remarkable women. She once made the newspaper when she took in a homeless white family into her humble home for a few days.

Alina had a husband and a daughter called Tsidi. Tsidi were about five at the time and my son immediately developed a bond with her. So it came that Tsidi visited us often and one time even went along on a family vacation. We came to notice that Tsidi was quite eager to learn and smart, always asking questions and listening attentively to everything we say.

Then I took my current position in Delmas. We told Alina that we were about to move and thanked her for her faithful service. To this she simply replied that she refuse to work for somebody else and that she is willing to move with her husband and Tsidi to Delmas. Things worked out well. Our home had a sufficient servant quarter and Alina liked the place. By the time we moved here, Tsidi were grade 1. I made arrangements for her to be put in an Afrikaans Primary school. To our horror we learned that in the six months she was in her township school in Bloemfontein, she learned neither to read or write a word. Every evening my wife faithfully sat with Tsidi and tried to make up for lost time since her own mom and dad could barely read or write. It bore fruit. At the end of last year Tsidi finished as one of the top in her class and did her work and even read extra books in her spare time. We felt glad and excited about her future.

Then her mother aged 46 fell pregnant. We found this strange because while we were in Bloemfontein she developed problems and was put on a waiting list for a hysterectomy. Being pregnant at such an age put strain on Alina. Her work quality and attitude declined. She announced that she wanted to return to Bloemfontein and rest until the baby was to be born. We gave her her allowed four months maternity leave on which she still is. The baby was born and apparently healthy. Tsidi and her dad stayed behind in Delmas so that Tsidi could continue with her schooling.

For a while everything went well. Then Tsidi started to miss her mother which one can understand. All of a sudden, Alina demanded the child be brought back to Bloemfontein promptly. She barely finished the school term and was taken to Bloemfontein which we thought to be a good thing as long as she would return in time for the next school term. However to this day Tsidi still hasn't showed up. What's worse she hasn't been put in another school for two terms now. She was already to old for her year group and even if she returns now the school will not take her back in. A future wasted and there is nothing I can do about it. I want to cry when I think about it.

Funny moment with my son

Readers not able to understand Afrikaans won't share in this but yesterday when I dressed my little boy Steph age3, he was like a stubborn mule. I told him: "Jy is op dun ys mannetjie (you are on thin ice lad)" to which he replied: " Ek is nie 'n dun muismannetjie nie (I'm not a little thin 'mouseman!)". I am still laughing!

Soccer fever in Tembisa

I met a guy called Victor at a function. We are both involved in a initiative called beautiful people where we attempt to build friendship across racial and other lines of division. So it came to pass that Victor invited me to watch the Bafana vs France game at one of the Fan Parks in Tembisa. I was quite excited about the opportunity but at the same time a little bit apprehensive. I am a child of my time. I grew up with stories about how dangerous townships are and how much the people there hate whites and plot to kill them. I was therefore kind of grateful when Victor met me at the local police station.

We then drove to his home. Driving with so many taxi's all around you is quite stressful. I imagine it will feel much the same as driving in New York in rush hour. Apart form the taxi's there are a lot of people and some dogs on the street one should also look out for. Victor took us to his room, a small sink shack in the backyard of his parents home. Maybe it was because Victor knew we would visit but I was immediately struck by how clean and neat this room is. On the one side there was a book rack with books on many different subjects. Victor is a third year student at UNISA, a local university. On the other side of the room stood his desk. Pinned on a notice board in front of the desk are a variety of poems Victor has written. One poem that stood out was "Choice" It starts be telling what things in life we have no choice over, things like your upbringing and background and then goes on to make an important statement that every person can take responsibility for the many choices he or she are able to make. What make this poem special is that Victor's life is a living testament of the truth this poem expresses. While sitting there I reminded myself how just a few hours before I complained how cold our home is, our five bedroom three bathroom home that is! We sat with a few of his friends and discussed everything from sex to cars.

Suddenly we got interrupted by a very well known vuevuzela sound trumpeting next to us. This was promptly followed by a deep roar that shot through the whole township. This reminded us that the game has already started and that we have probably missed a goal. So we walked to the nearby fan park. There is a vibe on these streets that is difficult to describe. It is like everybody knows one another well. I haven't seen one drunk person and were surprised at how well almost everybody were dressed. We entered the fan park where 3000 young people gathered to watch the game on the big screen provided. Vuevuzela's were blown all around and the people danced and partied like I've rarely seen. In a radius of at least 20k's we were the only whites yet I strangely felt very save and at home. The vibe is indescribable!

After the game we went to the home of one of Victor's friends. In their small yard, this friend made a lovely garden, complete with lighting which he switched on to welcome us. We made a fire in a worse for wear car rim and talked and talked. What amazed me was that unlike the people in my white community nobody spoke much about themselves but on issues effecting the country and how it can be solved.

I drove home humbled by what I experienced and inspired to built more such friendships across racial lines. I'll be forever grateful for this exposure! (see pictures I took on the next blogpost I wrote in Afrikaans)