Valuable lessons from 2011

Lesson 5: Even When It's Dark, There Is Light


I've saved the biggest lesson of 2011 for last.  It ties in - sort of - with all the previous ones (except for the cockroaches - it has nothing to do with cockroaches), and even now it's an ongoing lesson, with some of the issues still in the process of being resolved.  They have been incredibly hard lessons, and I've cried bitter, bitter tears, but I've seen amazing blessing as a result.

It started in January.  I'm not going to go into what happened.  I will just say that it was probably the single most painful thing I have ever had to deal with, even surpassing the agony of the divorce I went through in 1999.  It meant severe and immediate changes in everything.  In order to deal with the situation, we had to step down immediately from the leadership position we held in the church; sessions were held with various professionals, and eventually counselling was received.  The result has been restoration and increased closeness as a family.  The sweetest of all has been a greater degree of openness and accountability, which wasn't there before.

We took Catherine to start at Rhodes University, Grahamstown, in February (while still slap-bang in the middle of all this turmoil).  After four months of battling severely, she realised that the course wasn't for her, nor was studying so far from home.  She came back for good to Strand in June.  So many flustered "Oh Lord, what now??" prayers went up at that time, but it only became apparent later in the year when she joined our church's gap year program, Ground Force, that she was never meant to teach high school English.  All her giftings, her passions, her interests are geared towards her being a Grade R/Grade 0 teacher (preschool).  She's been working in a creche in our local township, Nomzamo, having the time of her life.  The other young folks on the course who went definitely did not feel it was something they would do outside of Ground Force, but they went every week as part of their program.  However, Catherine always came back energised and bubbling over at the kids and what she'd learned from them as much as they'd learned from her.  She would never have realised this had she stayed at Rhodes. Many other things still have to be worked out - work, finances, further studies, etc, but I have faith for all of these.

And that's the beauty of this year.  It's been a tough year.  Many of the things that have happened to us have not just had physical and emotional consequences but financial implications - very major ones - which have definitely put us on the backfoot for 2012.  But in many, many ways we are going into 2012 far richer than we could have ever hoped.

I have three children, each with different challenges to meet this year (jobhunting, driving tests, further education, matric exams, learning with ADHD and a nystagmus) but all with a wonderful attitude, and a strong sense of who they are in God.

I have a wonderful family - immediate and extended - who are behind me. I'm hugely grateful for the stronger relationship forged with my sister this year, and an understanding of each other that was never there before.  I'm grateful for my spiritual family, for members who encourage me, and those who are not afraid to give me a proverbial kick up the rear when I'm acting in error.

I'm thankful for an amazing husband who, though he sweats the small stuff and drives us crazy sometimes, in a crisis he is a gifted, sensitive, caring leader, rock solid and one that you can definitely lean on.  I'm grateful for his dependability, his faithfulness, his enduring love and his gentle but firm leadership.  I could not have coped with this year without him.

My awesome family

And I'm grateful most of all to my Heavenly Father, for having my paths clearly marked, for knowing the end from the beginning, for sticking with me through the dark, sleepless nights, for His still, small words of comfort, encouragement or admonishment, for His supernatural provision.

I face 2012 with a small measure of trepidation.  I would lie if I said I didn't. But I leave 2011 with a grateful heart for good, solid lessons.  I would be foolish not to learn from them, and be thankful for them.

Do I want to live through 2011 again?  Not on your life!  Am I glad it happened like it did? You bet!

Happy New Year to all of you.  May 2012 bring you all you wish for, but most of all, my wish is for you to receive God's gift of eternal life, freely offered to you.  May you know His peace, love and forgiveness as you start this New Year.

Valuable lessons from 2011

Lesson 4: Everything Has a Reason and a Season


Most of us have seen (copiously!) the email that 'people come into our lives for a reason, for a season, or for a lifetime.' (Please don't send it to me again if I've misquoted it - really, I got the message when I read it the first 20 times).

But the fun part for me this year has been working out the reasons as I go through different seasons. And the reasons have been surprising.

The lessons haven't always been easy.  I've dealt with some people in this year, who, easygoing as I am, have really managed to push all my buttons.  I will not mention who, or where, or what the circumstances, but they just seem to have that uncanny knack of causing me grief, wittingly and unwittingly. Eventually, after much contemplation (too much, actually) and a night of praying, I felt (rather than heard) a voice say "Every pearl needs some irritation in order to be made perfect."  It may not have been what I wanted to hear, but it made a lot of sense.  My reaction now is to reach out to those people, and learn to love them, however difficult it is.

I often think back to things that happen in the past and try to understand their reason.  I had a really terrible job a couple of years back, from which I walked away after 7 weeks, after realising that my new boss's sole aim was to belittle me to the point of brokenness.  However, in that office, I had one person that I got on really well with.  I have often wondered why I had to go through those 7 weeks of hell - till this year that same office ally employed both my teens (without interviewing them first!) to work in her holiday business.  It may not be the only reason for me going through the pain that I did, but when I see my son come in after 6 hours of work, tired but happy, with stories of the weird and wonderful people who were walking along the beach, it finally seems worth it.

Two seasons came to an abrupt and violent end this year. Colonel Muammar Gaddafi was shot dead on 20th October by Libyan rebel forces. He had been in control of Libya for 42 years, and during his reign, had sanctioned the bombing of an American airliner, thus enabling the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 on 21st December, causing debris to rain from the sky on a small, unsuspecting Scottish market town.

In Pakistan, on 1st May, Osama Bin Laden was assassinated by a crack American force.  He was the leader of Al Qaeda, who claimed responsibility for all the aircraft that flew into buildings on 11th September, 2001, destroying the World Trade Centre, severely damaging the Pentagon and forever changing the security levels in airports.

Why did atrocities such as "The Lockerbie Disaster" and "9/11" happen? Because evil men plotted it. Pure and simple.  But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound.  In New York, people turned to God in a way unparallelled in previous years.  In New York, as in Lockerbie 13 years before, people came together in a defiant sense of community.  In New York, as in Lockerbie, firemen, policemen and paramedics, who risked danger of further building collapse or fires to save others, were the people's heroes instead of shallow, self-seeking sports stars, musicians and actors.

21st December 1988, the longest night in Lockerbie's history

Lockerbie, last week, said goodbye to the man who'd been its leading fireman at the time of the air disaster. His final struggle had been against his own body, and it had been a long, hard-fought three-year battle. Ronnie Robertson was my best friend's dad, his brother Brian had been my driving instructor.  I knew Ronnie as the most humble, jovial, self-sacrificing man in the town.  On the night of 21st December, he worked through the night (along with all the other firemen from Lockerbie), came home at 4 am, showered, put on his postman's uniform, did his postal round, came home and changed and went back to rescue work.  He did that until there was nothing left for the fire service to do.  He was one of my heroes.

The epitome of true heroism

In New York, children realised that Spiderman, Superman or Batman didn't have a patch on their firefighting fathers, brothers, uncles, who risked (and in some tragic cases gave) everything to save as many people as they could, or the real life heroes in the skies over Pennsylvania on United Flight 93 who made a stand and stopped a destructive mission.

Inspector George Stobbs, QPM

No, God didn't "make it happen" or even "let it happen", but He knew that man's evil choices would lead to these moments, and he had the very people in place that would thwart the full force of evil and restore immediately faith in humanity.  There's not one person I know from Lockerbie who isn't proud of its people and what they achieved when they stood together.  Unsung heroes who spent hours and hours with relatives from America - Inspector George Stobbs gave up days to be with all kinds of investigation bureaus and with relatives, and Alex Traill who after taking relatives to where their loved ones were found, to the memorial, allowing them to grieve and then offering a kind word of comfort, would take them home for a three course meal.  These are the people and plans God had in place, ready and waiting.  As the World Trade Centre is being rebuilt, it's a symbol of a spirit of community.  Evil happened, and a tiny town, and a massive metropolis, were ushered into new seasons.

John F Kennedy once said, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." You may be in a difficult season.  You may not think you have any reason to be here.  I can tell you, you have no idea what plans God has for you.  It may be a timely word to someone, which makes them change their mind, or it may be to become a part-time paramedic to save someone's life.  I can't say.  But always look for life's lessons, even in the hardest of times realise that there is a reason for it, and always look for heroes in the unlikeliest of people.  Lockerbie and New York will tell you that there are literally hundreds, and you wouldn't be able to spot them.  They never will claim to be heroes - they will always  be "just doing their job".  Those are people worth knowing.

Valuable lessons from 2011

Lesson 3: Cockroaches Are Straight From the Pit of Hell


End of story.

Why should I shudder alone????

Valuable lessons from 2011

Lesson 2: You Can't Put a Price On Freedom


"They may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!"  These words were ascribed to William Wallace by Randy Wallace in the blockbuster "Braveheart".  Whether Scotland's hero ever said them is incredibly dubious at best, but the sentiment is completely understandable.

Mel Gibson as William Wallace, proclaiming freedom for all Scots from Edward Longshanks' tyrannical reign

Freedom is a truly precious commodity. But it's one of those strange ones you don't appreciate until it's not there any more.

I had this in a small measure this year.  My car was out of action for a month this year, after its engine seized.  It doesn't sound so serious, but over the years, this car has become a symbol of my independence.  It's the only car I've ever owned.  I love the feeling of just being able to nip out quickly and do something, or go somewhere, or meet with someone.  So all of a sudden, to be completely housebound and totally reliant on other people was incredibly difficult for me.  When friends had the same problem I did later in the year, I loaned them my car, as I understood their loss of independence, but after 7 weeks, I honestly felt imprisoned at home, imprisoned at work.  Not necessarily because I didn't want to be there, but when I needed to do something, I was stuck.  I realised then there is no singular price that can be placed on independence or freedom.  Scooting all over the place in my car this past week, frenetic as it was, I began to cherish completely the moments this car has given me while driving.  The special, full-volumed, intense conversations with Tony on the way home from school, fun and deep conversations with Andrew, lively conversations about music and careers with Catherine, and tender, private conversations with Colin.  And even the quiet beauty of solitude - my times in prayer as I drive somewhere in silence. Or singing full volume to a CD or a song on the radio.  These are precious moments, and when for any reason I can't have them, I miss them desperately.  Tony is too distracted by all around him in the house to have the same intense chats as we share on the way home.  It's impossible to have any kind of meaningful conversation with Catherine or Andrew while Tony is interrupting every 30 seconds, and as for private, intimate chats with Colin in the house - with three kids around?  Forget it!  If my vehicle is the vehicle for such timeless moments, I will always fight to preserve that freedom. And like every freedom we have, it took my car to die a death on the side of the road for me to appreciate it.

And it's this love of freedom that makes the passing of the protection of state information bill so painful.  We have been so blessed since 1994 to live in such a democratic country, where freedom is prized. The second-last line of our national anthem is "Let us live and strive for freedom".  So a big red flag goes up when the government tries to restrict the freedom of journalists who happen to find out that members of parliament are involved in illicit dealings. Or if consumer watchdog Carte Blanche tries to get to the bottom of an issue that is "not quite kosher" at the highest level, only to find themselves falling foul of the law, and our government gets away with criminal activities.  It's my experience that those who restrict freedom of information the most, generally have the most to hide.  But again, South Africa did not appreciate this level of freedom at all until it came under threat.

​"Press freedom will never be under threat as long as the ANC is the majority party" Nelson Mandela 

On the other hand, the story goes that when North Korean president Kim Jong-II died recently, some North Koreans got their first taste of Western music, and apparently some wept while listening to Adele for the first time.  When you have no freedom at all, even the slightest freedom is deeply moving.

We have a lot to be thankful for.

Valuable lessons from 2011

We're less than 4 weeks away from the end of the year and I suppose I'd better get some final thoughts down onto cyber-paper before the tolling of the bells starts a whole new era.

For some people, 2011 has been amazing - new beginnings, much excitement, happy memories.  For others, this  is a year that can't finish quick enough.  I'm afraid I tend to fall into the second category.  I would not want to repeat the events of 2011 for all the money in the world.  But nor would I swap the lessons that these events have taught me for any price.  And over the next few weeks, let me share with cyberspace some of the treasured lessons I've learned.

Lesson 1: It Ain't Over Till It's Over


This is the story of Rascal and Tazzy.  They are almost exactly the same age. The big difference between them is one is a much-loved pet, and the other a car.

Rascal was born on or around 10th May 1998.  He was bought on Father's Day in a little pet shop outside the Hypermarket in Brackenfell. Within 60 seconds, as Catherine watched this little handful of fluff attacking my fingers, she declared that he really was a "rascal", and the name just stuck.  He's a cairn terrier cross (nowadays I say he's a cairn terrier VERY cross) which means that in his early days he was absolutely tireless.  He could run for miles, and we were convinced he'd dig to Australia.

My canine baby

However, when he turned 10, he really started getting "old".  He really started slowing down, you could see that his hearing and eyesight weren't great any more, and in general, he just wasn't the playful terrier he'd always been, chasing soccer balls around the backyard, growling all the way, chasing the cats out of the house, even though they both snuggled up to him every night.  Almost every year, as I look at him,  in his forgetfulness, in his quiet "let me sleep" state, I wonder if that Christmas will be the last we'll spend with him.  Yet, he seems to keep hanging on, and there are moments of great lucidity and "puppiness", especially when I make Italian food!

My other "never say die" story is Tazzy.  Tazzy is my 1998 model Toyota Tazz.  When I got the car, it had 29 km on the clock.  It's already been all the way around the clock once, and I think it's quite far on its way to a second time.  But I absolutely love it.  I love its zippiness, I love its "can do" attitude, its ease to drive and its comfort. It's very, very rarely given me any grief at all - just had some starter motor issue which was quickly remedied by installing a relay switch.  So it was a huge shock earlier this year when the engine simply seized one winter's day.  However, this is Tazzy, and though it was in a "coma" for three weeks (no engine block, no life in it at all), on the fourth week it was back in action.  Four weeks after that, it undertook the longest trip of its life and drove all the way to the Eastern Cape, new engine and all!

Tazzy in Bathurst, Eastern Cape

If I'm being honest, Tazzy's running as well now as it ever did in 1999/2000.  There are many years of service still under the bonnet, many kilometres to cover, two teens to learn to drive in it (both of them could have their licence by Easter, that's the scary thing!) and many more memories to be created in it.  When I think back to the test drive in the Tazz as opposed to the test drive I did in the Fiat Uno, which I was also considering, I did not realise that I was not only buying a vehicle, but a couple of decades of memories, and from Tazzy, a lifetime of faithful service.

So the lesson is simply this.  It doesn't matter who's telling you you can't do it. It doesn't matter who's telling you you're old and past it.  It doesn't matter who's given up hope for you.  While you are still breathing, you have a purpose.  Hang on!  Keep trying!  Never stop enjoying life.  Try new things - learn piano, start writing, join a zumba class, take up playing trombone, dye your hair a funky colour, or shave it all off.  Make memories, and think back often to the ones you've already made.  Do things to keep your mind sharp, and never, ever think you're too old for new adventures.  Remember - new and young doesn't necessarily prove that it will be the better choice. The Bible is full of stories of people who achieved great things in their old age.  Noah built the ark when he was over 500 years old.  Abraham became a father at 100.  Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt at the age of 80, and died only 40 years later.  So if 2011 taught me anything, it's the words of a Lenny Kravitz song - "it ain't over till it's over." And if you're reading this, it ain't over yet!!!

Oh, and Rascal wants me to add that the secret to youth is lasagna.  Just saying.