Cool Runnings: March 2020

Yesterday was not a good day.
I cried a lot.

I had felt very together up until yesterday. Maybe because I am often at home anyway, it didn't feel that different.
Then the reality of everything coming to the end of Week 2, just seem to hit me. After so long, I had expected the numbers to start coming down, but we have not peaked yet. SA, don't be tempted to think that change will happen overnight, or that lockdown is not working - it takes a while, be patient and stay home. I read an article about the emotions we are feeling, and how they are similar to the stages of grief. I realised I had hit the "Acceptance" stage for us here, but I was nowhere near there for home yet. My emotions see-sawed all day, one moment I was fine, the next I cried and went to sleep, and woke up crying, then I was fine, and then I cried again.

At first I wanted to get angry with myself for being so emotional, but I realise that it is OK, we cannot push such an emotional situation down and expect to feel nothing. So I will cry when I want to, but I will also try to stay off the constant stream of information, and look for the positive to balance it with.

For now I think I will have to find a routine, which I famously never have. However, it may turn out to be a saving grace. I will get up with My Man in the morning. I will get dressed. That sounds odd, I know, but walking around in my onesie or PJs, feels wonderful on most days, but it feels defeatist to me now. I will do at least 30 min of exercise a day, whether it's a run or a workout, it doesn't matter, and then I will make a list of tasks that I can do each day. For this I happily will use Flylady to make sure lots gets done!

I need to do this to make sure that I don't dwell on what's happening, and become more anxious than I already am. I can't deal with all the "What-ifs", it's too much. I need to learn to focus on today. Not being bored today. Keeping busy today. Being grateful for the safety of home. I am not stuck at home, I am safe at home. Others are safe because we are all at home.

I know that none of this is from God, and I get acid when I see people infer that this is some "act of God". Nothing evil originates from Him. Sh!t happens in life, it is just like that. I know that He is in this with us, feeling our sorrow and despair, and I know that this is a time we can choose to blame Him or cling to Him. I choose to cling. Always.

I wish I could go home. The irony is that we always said that when we want to go home, we will just go.
But we literally can't.
So we just have to make peace with that for now.

Stay safe lovely people, and stay home.

Do you feel like you have a day that may have been really significant in some way? A day that stands out for whatever reason. I have so many incredible memories, but none that I would consider more "defining" than this one day.

I don't like calling myself a Christian. I'll just put that out there from the beginning. It's such a loaded word -with all kinds of judgmental baggage attached to it.

I prefer to say that I follow Christ, because he is the opposite of judgmental. He made people think out of the box, he mixed with people that were sometimes (at that time) questionable, and he loathed the self righteous. No-one was excluded, his loved extended to all. He is a compassionate revolutionary. This is the Jesus I love.

This is my story of how I met him.

Have you ever just gotten comfortable, falling asleep, and then you hear the zzzzzz – of a mosquito (aka: a mozzie)! You flail your arms around wildly hoping that it will become distracted because you can’t be bothered to turn the light on and deal with it? As I look back on the journey that is my life I will share with you my ‘mozzie moments.’ Moments that God intervened, uninvited into my world, until one day, I chose to turn on the light and deal with Him.

My parents, neither of them believers, divorced when I was about 7. My mom got into exploring Eastern philosophies on a quest for truth. However, every now and again she would encourage us to go to Sunday School. It was as though she knew deep down that that was the ‘right’ thing to do. The first experience of church I remember was when I was about 9. I used to go with a friend to a youth group every now and again. I remember specifically one day they had a quiz and the question was ‘What are the first 3 words in the Bible?’ and I knew what they were… to this day I don’t know how I knew them. This group was my first encounter with Jesus. I do believe that during that time, in a way that can only be true for a child, I decided that Jesus was ‘an OK guy!’

Fast Forward to 1983. Early 1983 we moved house. I was really happy where we were living, and didn’t want to leave my friends, and my boyfriend, who I adored, but work transferred us and we had to go. I did not take the move well. I became rebellious, I was not pleasant to have around, and I know that during that time, I'm ashamed to say that I hurt a lot of people that I loved dearly. I was not myself, and I wish I could find them all and apologise. Anyway, it was decided that I was getting a bit out of control so I was put into boarding school. I remember it with mixed feelings but the most significant event in my life was to happen there.

It was then that a Youth for Christ group came to town. My friend and I, who had nothing better to do at the time, decided that we would go! I cannot remember what their presentation was about, but what I do remember is that I heard three things by the end of it:

God knows me,
God loves me, and
I could really know God too.

I must say that even at my most rebellious, it never felt like that was really me. I had always had a ‘spiritual awareness’: There was never a time that I didn’t believe in God, or in Jesus - But I never made any conscious choice to pursue Him. In hindsight, it became clear that all through the years he had reminded me that He did in fact know me. Moments where he zzzz around and made His presence known, (these I call His uninvited mozzie moments!) but I either brushed Him off - or at best, discussed Him.

Mozzie moment 1: This is my first Bible. This I got in 1978. What made my mom give my brother and I a Bible each, is a mystery. I even remember where we first started reading. We read John. No-one told us to read John. We just did. God knew me at 11 reading An Authorized King James’ Version of John. (That is old English…. but we read it).

Mozzie moment 2: I slept over at a friends house one Saturday evening and the following day I went to Church with them. There was communion, and I remember my friend saying to me that I couldn’t go up for communion because it was only for Christians. But I remember feeling a bit bewildered being the only kid left in the pew while everyone else went up… but it was another reminder, another nudge, another zzzz in my ear.

Mozzie moment 3: When I was in Std. 5 (about 12 yrs old), my brother and I had a debate about whether to raise your arms or kneel before God if you are praying. Where did this conversation come from? I still do not know. We were completely un-churched and the usual idea of prayer is quietly folded hands….

Mozzie moment 4: When I was in Std.7 I received a chain letter. Those things that say if you don’t send it out to however many people, by whatever time, something dreadful would happen to you. The first person I thought to ask what to do with this letter was the minister at the little church where we lived. Somehow I knew that He would have the right answer. Indirectly then, I think, I was trusting God for the answer. Because He was Gods spokesperson.

Mozzie moment 5: Then in about Std. 7 or 8 (approx 15 yrs old), a guy came to our school and gave out Gideons Bibles and did a talk. He asked what the most important verse was in the Bible. I knew that. John 3:16. I told my friend the answer, but honestly cannot tell you where I heard it, or how I knew it. But I did. I had that Bible right up to Matric (last school year), I carried it in my blazer pocket, I still have it, and it is interesting to see the things that I wrote in it and what I underlined.

Mozzie moment 6: I used to go horse riding often, it was the one thing that I loved to do more than anything else in the world. One day, when I was in Std. 9, I had gone riding with friends. We would often ride down to the beach. This one day in particular, I arrived a bit ahead of the group and as I arrived I stopped on a dune overlooking the beach. The sea was blue and clear like the sky, the sand and dunes looked whiter than white, the breeze was blowing. I suppose that it looked the same as every other day that I had been in that spot, but somehow, that day it was just seemed more perfect. I remember feeling that I didn’t want to break that moment by breathing or blinking. I had such an overwhelming feeling of beauty and absolute contentment, and remember thinking that if I died right then, then this must be what heaven is like…. It was a moment that I have never forgotten.

It was soon after that moment on horseback, that Youth for Christ arrived.

As I sat there, in that YFC gathering, it became very clear to me that YES! God does know me. He really does and he had throughout my life been pursuing me relentlessly, giving me moments to recognise him, zzzzz-ing in my ear: Lisa, here I am, I know you, I love you, and I would love you to know me too.

That day, it was the big day, it was the day I said “Yes, I do want to know you too”.

The day that separates who I was, to who I am: not perfect in any way, but perfectly and divinely loved in spite of my imperfections.

That was my defining day …

Maybe you have had some “mozzie moments” too, and not even been aware.

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Below are two links sharing some of our continued journey....