• Poetry

    Wildflower

    April 23, 2021 - By 

    You are just a wild weed, you little beauty Along the byways of this beaten-down trail You have caught my eye, you little blossom  You remind me of the Proverbs 31 woman The wife of the nobleman Who was clothed in fine linen of purple Her children called her blessed and she laughed at the days to come She was strong and vigorous No hand nurtured you, my little one No gardener tended to you Yet you flourish Your stalks are strong and you are here in this big world, doing it all by yourself No one will pluck you,…

  • Poetry

    To the little girl who stood on the chair

    April 19, 2021 - By 

    Every morning without fail she lugs her wooden chair Although far too big for her she hurls it across the lawn Squinting her eyes to the sky as if she is waiting for something to appear Mumbling to herself in babbles and burbles waving her little fat fingers As if to say I’ll be ready soon Just give me a moment She clambers up carefully balancing herself so not to lose her dainty pair of little lace-shoes She mounts herself up Here, she said, as she straightens her frock She gives herself a glance and is pleased with what she sees…

  • Blog

    Letters to my grieving friend

    April 2, 2021 - By 

    Letter 3: From His footstool to His throne My dearest friend, Last night was extremely difficult for you. I sensed your panic as the reality of you never seeing your loved one again sets in. Grief has bored its way so deep into the very core of your being. It has only been a few weeks but it feels like a lifetime of separation. As we wept through the night, my mind drifted to our younger days.  We were in our twenties then, young wives and new mums. We were hungry for the things of the spirit. We danced through…

  • Blog

    What the world sees as trash God sees as treasure

    March 26, 2021 - By 

    Part 2: Eureka “A diamond on the finger of a man of wit and a pebble in the hand of a fool.” – Joseph Roux I live in a country that is known for its diamonds. South Africa maintains its position as a major diamond producer in the world. Diamonds, natural creations made from carbon, are said to warm up any heart of stone. Our gemstone story began in 1866 at the Orange River, when the young 15-year-old, Erasmus Jacobs, found a transparent pebble on his father’s farm. At the time, he did not know the value of this 21.25 carat stone.…

  • Blog

    Letters to my grieving friend

    March 18, 2021 - By 

    Letter 2: Life Gear My dearest friend, You have been in my daily prayer, more so on the weekends. The heavy rain and storm over the last few days made me wonder how the disciples must have felt when they found Jesus sleeping on the boat in the middle of the storm (Mark 4:35-41). As I watched the high boisterous waves crash over our shores, I could imagine the fear and crippling anxiety that the disciples must have felt. I could picture being tossed around in that little fisherman’s boat without any form of life-saving gear around me to protect…

  • Blog

    What the world sees as trash God sees as treasures

    March 12, 2021 - By 

    Part 1: Segullah “You are worthless!” “You are good for nothing.” “Nothing good can come of you”.  If these are the words that are shouted at you or if these are words that you say to yourself, then this abuse needs to stop now. The common idiom, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, is so profound. What man may see as trash in his weak earthly view of life, God sees as potential. God sees us as His treasured possession.   The Hebrew word for treasure is Segullah (סְגֻלָּה ), pronounced “seh-goo-LAH” which is translated as “treasured possession.” In the…

  • Blog

    Letters to my grieving friend

    February 19, 2021 - By 

    Letter 1: Keeping House My dearest friend…  I have flashbacks of our childhood, the days where we played house with your tiny red metal toy pots, which I so loved to play with. Do you remember your toy stove and the little plastic silver teaspoons? It feels like yesterday, doesn’t it? While I harvested weeds and berries to whip up my make-believe dinners, you always had those surprise ingredients cooking in your pots: sliced green beans and chopped carrots which your mum so generously shared with us from that night’s dinner preparations. Our playtimes were so innocent. We often took…

  • Poetry

    His Keep

    February 16, 2021 - By 

    Who is that? Twisted fingers, pointed, raised She comes out of that barren place Foul-mouthed, unscrupulous words Drops of silence and everyone stares Gaping-eyes feasting hungrily they scramble into herds whining in disarray How did she get out? Who is that? She cometh from that desert place She is unscathed yet she bears the scars The screamy howls of the past lurks behind Bewildered by how this one got out She ambulates the presence of someone near She walks in a cloud-like pillar of smoke Who is this that comes out of that wilderness place? Pointy crooked noses sniffing the…

  • Poetry

    Cover Me

    September 20, 2020 - By 

    I watch and I wait Rocking in the hum of His grace Cover me, cover me, Lord! I am weak, shaken by the words of raging wars   I bow and I bend Creaking under the weight of fiery words Cover me, cover me, Lord! I can smell the smouldering of burning arrows   I weep and I groan Grasping out to find Him near Cover me, cover me, Lord! For I feel your shield and I know you are near   I cling… I hear ferocious slander Mockery and maliciousness fly over me Cover me, cover me, Lord! Least…

  • Poetry

    Un-silence Me

    September 9, 2020 - By 

    The never-ending humming of melodies Vibrations echoing, replications of the heavenly chorus The lamentations, the praises alto and soprano bouncing within my ears The yeaning and whooing are out of control They swell and bellow, harmonizing in hymns Deep within me, swirling and stirring I want to explode, I want to burst I cannot contain it Held tightly, shut inwardly bound To the outside world, the silence is felt The humming within no ears have heard My heart’s streets are irony keys My sinews are strung together with violin strings Yet no one can hear me For I am a silent note……