The Eight O’Clock
News March/April 2017
To Forgive or Not to Forgive— There is no Question As we approach Easter and consider the paschal mystery: Christ’s passion on the Cross, His death and resurrection, we may think about how sometimes it is very difficult to forgive. In a meditation I did recently on the last words of Jesus on the Cross, based on the book, ‘Seven Last Words’ by the Jesuit priest, Fr James Martin, he examines Jesus’ forgiveness from the cross and what this means in our own lives. Father forgive them for they know not what they are doing, said Jesus. In His great suffering Jesus, by being fully human, was and is able to understand us completely. He was not only ‘a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief’ but a man who experienced great joy. We therefore do not relate to a God who is removed from our experiences. In Christianity Today, we read that there are three stages in every act of forgiving: suffering, spiritual surgery and starting over. It is the spiritual surgery that is essentially the business of forgiveness. In this dark world we are enveloped in light when we are comforted by God. Without this light, sometimes we say we can never forgive, it is impossible. Some crimes are too horrific to contemplate forgiveness. ‘No one really forgives unless he has been hurt. We turn the miracle into a cheap indulgence when we pretend to forgive people who have never hurt us’ (C Today). An annoyance is someone cutting us off at the checkout; a defeat is when someone succeeds when we fail, they always get promoted ahead of us; a slight is when people we want to notice us ignore us. ‘These are all hurts, but they are not the kind that need forgiving. Such bits and pieces of suffering require tolerance, magnanimity, indulgence, humility—but not forgiving!’ (C Today) ‘The kinds of hurts that need forgiving are both deep and moral. They are deep because they slice the fibre that holds us together in a human relationship. They are moral because they are wrongful, unfair, intolerable. We cannot indulge them or ignore them; we March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
8 am Service, Christ Church, Kenilworth
cannot shrug them off. We cannot just chalk them up to the human condition. The sorts of hurts that need forgiving are the ones that tend, in the nature of the case, to build a wall between the wrongdoer and the person he wrongfully hurts’ (C Today). When Jesus uttered, Father forgive them..., He was actually praying for the Roman soldiers. No one more than Jesus had a right to lash out having been unjustly persecuted. By saying that they do not know what they are doing, Jesus is emphasizing that all who sin, are clearly not thinking clearly… this may help us on the road to forgiveness. We need to see this… to love and to forgive. Martin Luther King said, Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude. What do we do when we feel incapable of letting go of resentment, when we feel bitter but powerless and wanting to forgive? Fr Martin says that in this situation we need grace and what better place to start that to ask God. St Ignatius profoundly suggested that if we do not have the desire to forgive, we should offer our inner feelings to God and pray for a desire to have the desire! We can’t do it but God can. Therefore, there is no question not to forgive. To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you (Lewis B Smedes). Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future. [Lewis B. Smedes] - Cheryl Anderson
[PS ‘Always forgive your enemies, nothing annoys them so much’. (Oscar Wilde)]
Merle Price, 13/7/1933-20/2/2017 Merle and I left CCK and Cape Town mid-2014 to settle in
Durban so as to be closer to our family. Since then she had been dogged by illnesses so that she finally succumbed to a combination of cancer in the bladder and serious kidney failure in February this year. You probably remember how she was quick on the uptake in church and often led the laughter when the preacher made a joke. And you might know that she was an enthusiastic flower arranger but was unable to tackle the large-scale work that was needed for church. She was also a great encourager who gave me backing to spend time and money on developing my love for drawing and painting in my retirement years. She grew up in Pretoria and became a brave, adventurous person, eager to learn, who loved people, plants, books, singing and music. She was highly principled and loved to serve God from her teenage years, a time when she developed a strong respect for the underprivileged. At the very beginning of her working life at the CSIR in Pretoria one of her colleagues gave her the title ‘little friend of all the world’. Later, in Pietermaritzburg, she stood up for the local domestics against the misbehaviour of the apartheid police, and delighted in having long telephone chats about nappies to keep the ’phone tappers busy. She also helped the women of the local Methodist Church to set up and run a Centre of Concern to give adult education to the local domestics. She recognised the value of educating girls, and raised our three daughters to be independent thinkers. In our family-raising days in Pietermaritzburg she recognised the need for a new nursery school in our area. So she embarked on the creation of a new
MyAnglican helps raise funds for Imizamo Yethu victims After the recent fire disaster in
Imizamo Yethu, Hout Bay, GtC (Growing the Church) decided to send an e-mail to all the Anglicans in the Church Management System, MyAnglican, telling them how they could assist the Parish of St Peter the Fisherman in Hout Bay with their response to this disaster. We have been notified that more than R35 000 was raised through this campaign, along with donations of clothes, food, etc. being dropped off at the parish. This blaze affected thousands of people, including many from our Anglican family. The Hout Bay parish has been able to assist its parishioners and others in the community with the generous response from Anglicans throughout the country. The IT/ Media Ministry is thrilled that MyAnglican was used to help co-ordinate relief efforts for the people of Imizamo Yethu. LET’S DREAM BIG: What could we do as the Anglican Church if ALL of our churches were using MyAnglican? Besides helping parishes with day-to-day parish life and ministry, we as the Anglican Church could have a more direct and effective approach to disaster relief and other urgent issues that affect our church and our country. Let’s make this dream a reality, so we can demonstrate the love of Christ in a real, meaningful way beyond our dreams. - Mike Kunz March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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one, coping with all the research, meetings and fundraising involved, so that our youngest daughter, Ruth, and others like her, could have the benefit of early socialising. One of Merle’s great joys lay in the wonder of God’s bounty and inventiveness in Creation, especially in the diversity of plant-life. She took lessons in flower arranging and graduated in Ikebana. She also started codifying suitable plant material for flower arrangers, and compiled a booklet on the subject to raise funds for Lifeline. She continued expanding her database to include all types of plant material in several regions of SA. Unfortunately this database is unfinished and unpublished, but she did manage to take part in a flower arranging competition in Durban in August 2015. I am so thankful to have been part of Merle’s life over these last 56 years or so. - Geoff Price
Two Wolves
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. ‘A fight is going on inside me,’ he said to the boy. ‘It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil—he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good—he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. This same fight is going on inside you and inside every other person, too.’ The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked, ‘Which wolf will win, grandfather?’ The old Cherokee replied simply: ‘The one you feed.’
- Origin unknown; sent in by Geka Flegg
Romans 7:21-25 : So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.
Here I sits
Breakthrough Prayer I was 15 when I responded to Jesus’ call to follow Him and be His
disciple. As I am now officially a ‘dinky wrinkly’, that call was a long time ago. My relationship with Him has changed in many ways since then. There have been times of wandering away, times of inertia but in the last three decades, a great deal of turning towards God and a re-examining what the bible says, what I believe, how I respond and how this fits in with God’s plan for my life and those around me. I understand God much better now and I certainly understand myself a great deal more—the good bits and the not-sogood-and-needing-to-change-bits. I love theology, words about God—who He is, how He relates, what He’s done, how He’s done it, what He expects from me—and as my knowledge about God has grown, so too has my response to Him. The more I know about God, the more mysterious He becomes. He has always been the Unknowable God, inaccessible to us unless He makes Himself known. And that He has done in the amazing gift of Jesus, second Person of the Trinity, fully God and fully human, making God wonderfully accessible to all who follow Him. I learned over time that God has three responses to my petitions: ‘Yes’, ‘not now’ and ‘never’. There is no difficulty in understanding the ‘Yes’ responses but the ‘not now’ and ‘never’ are tricky; most of the time the ‘not now’ feels like the ‘never’. I met Liz (whose testimony follows mine) nearly 34 years when we were both working in Psychiatry at the William Slater Hospital. She was looking for a housemate to replace the one who’d left to get married—and I was looking for a home. Liz quickly became a friend, has ended up like the younger sister I’d never had and we’ve shared three houses for over 30 years. Although Liz made a commitment to Jesus quite early on in our sharing, the weeds of scepticism were incredibly strong and strangled any real growth or understanding of the relationship into which we are called. I was able to share on some level what was happening in my life and walk with the Lord and Liz could understand up to a point but I found it very frustrating that I could not really share my excitement about what God was forming in me. I longed for her to know the love of God as I knew it—both for herself and for me. I was very aware of the depression she experienced from time to time and felt quite powerless to help her beyond the practical support I could give and the many prayers I prayed, hundreds of prayers. They all felt like ‘never’ responses from my Heavenly Father. In October last year Liz was clearly heading towards another bout of depression—she became relentless in trying to keep her head above the daily demands of life, trying to control all external factors because the internal ones were in such chaos. Along with this went a flare-up in generalised arthritis which became more and more painful in her hips and hands and for which medication seemed largely ineffective. I asked my small group and other close friends to pray for both of us and we were both put on the prayer bulletin for physical healing so some of you are also responsible for our being here today. I also asked Ali Bourne to pray for Liz. Ali wanted to know from me if Liz would allow herself to be prayed for by a small group of women who ministered in this way. I wasn’t sure and suggested we pray about the timing which we did for a few weeks and when Ali asked a second time, I agreed that the timing was right—but that she should ask Liz. At the end of November, at the height of her desperation regarding her situation, Liz said ‘yes’ - to my total surprise and delight. I must admit that though I expected God to do something, I did not expect what happened. The ‘Never’ response from God became a ‘not now’ and then a ‘yes’ – to Ali’s delight and mine—and eventually to March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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Liz, herself. If any of you identify with anything in Liz’s testimony, perhaps the time is right for you to ask God for a ‘yes’ response. I have lately been very aware of two scriptures re asking: James 4:2: You want something but don’t get it. You do not have, because you do not ask God. Ephesians 3:20-21: God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine. I have been overwhelmed by His compassion and generosity towards Liz so I want to repeat the Ephesians text to honour God publicly for what He is doing in me, in Liz and what He will accomplish through all of this. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
- Ev Els, 29/1/17
A Journey from Slow Death to ‘The Little Girl at Capernaum’ That I am standing here today is partly due to you. Thank you to all of you who have been praying for me at CCK and all the other people who prayed with me. A special thank you to Ali Bourne who is still walking beside me on this journey, for all the time, energy and your incredible prayer ministry, and of course to Ev who has been standing patiently beside me. 2015 was the year I believed I would gain my freedom to be who I wanted to be. My father died in January 2015 after I had cared for him for 10 years. All three of our special dogs also died within a year. We sold our house of 30 years and moved in to what was my father’s house next door. Looking back the losses were great. My way of dealing with losses in the past has been to take serious control of everything. I realise now that this was a nonfunctional method of coping which has in the past led to numerous hospital admissions for treatment of severe depression. Taking control meant control of everything including Ev, my housemate and dear friend of 33 years. Ev took the brunt of my frustration about anything and everything! Unbeknown to me Ev spoke to Alison Bourne to pray for our situation. Alison asked me a month later if I would go to a prayer group she knew. I must have been feeling very desperate myself as I had absolutely no idea why I agreed to go! I also had absolutely no idea what was going to happen as a result of that prayer meeting—my faith, I now realise, was close to non-existent. We talked and they prayed about my life experiences. What came out of that meeting was the big question, ‘Who am I?’. Towards the end of this meeting a strong message came through to pray for my hips as I had been having a lot of pain. During the prayer I had to stand as my hips were burning so badly. For days after the prayer for my hips, they improved dramatically. I often felt when walking that my hips were reorganising/aligning themselves. When I checked my balance it had changed from 34% to 100%. Others also noticed the change in my walking and balance, without knowing the situation. One was a friend and another a health professional. For the next 24 hours I felt as though I was in a fog. I didn’t know what had or was going to happen. I have always said that faith has been so hard for me because
‘what I don’t see, I don’t believe’. I had no idea how that could be resolved. But now I know: I now know (but didn’t then) that the Lord provided me with exactly what I needed to be able to ‘SEE’ what was happening below all the control. This ‘SEEING’ took the form of very vivid flashback pictures, videos and ticker-tape comments running in my mind. Truly amazing. I cried, often until I thought I would break. Each day brought a new issue. The Lord provided me with mental wooden boxes resembling the slide top box in which I received my father’s ashes. By the next day and as time went by I collected a box for every day and its new issue. All the boxes had their lids open and just a pile of ashes were left at the bottom. I realised these ashes were my memories that were not taken away but which could no longer hurt me in the same way. I began to realise that each of these issues felt like a mini-death in my life—the accumulative effect that I was trying to control must have been quite devastating. It felt at times that a large part of me had died. These were just some of the issues: Most of these issues were directly related to the fact that my father was in the Royal Air Force which meant we moved every 2 ½ years around the world. * My father left us for a year when I was four years old. I have been told that while he was away I changed from a very outgoing, adventurous child to being quiet and withdrawn. * My mother was often unable to care for us due to ill health which resulted in our being ‘sent away’ for months. * Separations happened very regularly, often for a year at a time, due to my attending boarding school in England. This included separation from my brother (my major support system at the time) as he was at school in Scotland. * Fear played an enormous role during this time as fear and tears were not acceptable. From the age of 12 I often travelled alone, (including long distance, UK to Australia a few times). I would ‘shut down’ my emotions to control the situation. * A new fear developed as I grew older—severe depression was becoming a regular visitor in my world. I hated and feared it but appeared to have no control. After 2½ weeks I went back for further prayer. I thought the group was pressurising me to make a commitment to God and I wasn’t quite there yet. One of the pray-ers laid her hands on my shoulders and asked me if I could see a picture? To my astonishment, a clear picture appeared of Jesus holding His hand out to a little girl lying in a bed. I put my hand out and felt a very warm, safe touch! After I went home that day I realised that I knew the story behind the picture having been given the book as a child (The little Girl at Capernaum). I knew then that Jesus had come to lift me out of all the dead feelings. I still see the picture, sometimes more clearly than other times. I have searched for the picture on the internet wondering if I had seen it somewhere but I cannot find it. The first time I went to church after the this event everything looked different—all the people I knew, the liturgy, the stained glass windows—everything was bright and alive! It is sometimes hard for me to hold on to what has happened and why. Why did God wait for 66 years to show me the way to Him? How do I go on from here? How do I hold on to the relationship with him? I don’t actually think it is going to be so difficult as I know He is with me now and I know some of the things I have to do, reading, sharing and praying with others, particularly with Ev who has waited a long time for me to commit to God as my March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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father. The journey continues and I would really appreciate your prayers and support. I know that the road will be rocky particularly as none of my family are believers but maybe as they see change in me the Lord might find a way into their hearts also. In the place of the fear and hurt that used to rise from deep in my being, I now have an excitable bubble of happiness that rises sometimes. At last I am also in touch with the little girl who at four years old roamed free in a little fishing village in Scotland, her name and address on her back for safe return. That same free spirit is now able to feel excitement for the future instead of dread!
- Liz Michael, 29/1/17
Free as a Bird Just over two years ago, my sister and I were deeply hurt by a
person who had sent a series of nasty emails to her. This person was intent on removing my sister from a voluntary position that she had held, in which capacity she had done much good. Other people were copied on the emails and much talk ensued behind our backs. We tried to mend the fences but to no avail. The writer of the emails was determined and did not even want to meet to discuss the issues. Eventually we had to walk away from the situation and shortly thereafter my sister became seriously ill. She was still flabbergasted at what had transpired and we both felt rejected and alienated from a group of people that we thought were friends, having enjoyed a mutual hobby over many years. Very sadly, my sister died without any resolution to this ridiculous saga. I was beset with grief, losing my sister, 19 years my senior, who had been a force in my life for more years than my own mother had—and to both of whom I had had a strong relationship. I had been greatly loved, nurtured and cherished by them both, laatlammetjie that I was. Many friends at CCK and beyond helped me walk the grief journey and I am ever grateful for the prayerful support and friendship. However, tied up in this loss was the fact that I couldn’t fix the hurt that my sister had experienced and I bundled up serious thoughts of hatred and un-forgiveness towards the people involved. I needed to cope with my sadness, manage huge pressures in the workplace whilst being alongside the rest of the family, so… I stuck this ‘suitcase’ of un-forgiveness on the top of the cupboard—to be taken down every now and again and reexamined—only to be stuffed even fuller with my vengeful thoughts. I knew in my head that I was wrong, this was sinful indeed but it was as though I needed to keep picking at the wound and pressing on the bruises for my sister’s sake. Underlying all of this was a strong feeling within my spirit that God was calling me to do something more, new and different in His service but I couldn’t figure out what. It was as though I was trying to look through a glazed window, not quite able to see what He had in store for me. Then the week of Breakthrough Prayer came about and I felt compelled to attend on the Monday evening, the topic being Personal Prayer. I knew that I needed an intervention by others, for me to relate my story and be prayed for. Scary as it was, I maintained a bit of control initially by picking two lovely women to pray with me—Helen, a friend who had very much supported me at the time of my sister’s death and in the subsequent weeks and Barbara—who I knew to be involved in running the Grief Share workshops.
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I told my story, the tears came in buckets and I forgot about feeling self-conscious. We talked things through, they shared scriptures with me and even gently confronted me regarding my sinful hanging on to un-forgiveness despite my so-called ‘good reason’ to do so. Barbara described how a bird had fallen down the chimney in her house but was trapped behind the built-in fireplace. Eventually, her husband, Klaus, couldn’t take the plaintive tweets anymore and fetched his toolbox. He dismantled the fireplace and the bird flew free. Barbara said that if I opened the suitcase and discarded the baggage of un-forgiveness, I too would feel free. They prayed, I prayed, I cried. The words from Jesus came to me—’But Cheryl, I have done it for you already!’ I felt a physical sensation of something leaving my body all the way down and out the tips of my toes. This testimony I shared in church. A week later several people told me how through my sharing God had helped them too. Another week later I came downstairs early one morning with my dachsie. We both heard a scratching in the fireplace and ran to look. A bird had fallen down the chimney and was trapped behind the glass, jumping up and down and tweeting. Fortunately, this fireplace was not sealed up and I was able to carefully open the door, close my hand gently around the bird, walk outside into the morning and release it to the sky. My heart soared too! Now just this week God has revealed something to me that when thinking about it creates such an energy in me that I know that He is calling me to this service. That, however, is a story for another day. (Ev will most likely hound me for a story in the 8 O’ Clock News unless Annie gets to me first !)
- Cheryl Anderson
Set Free... For at least four years I have held
on the other side of the aisle from me, emptied (like the parting of the sea) and I was able to move quickly and quietly through to the side chapel. I was prayed over by Christine and Cathy and was very much comforted by their presence and their words. I knew God was working through them and was so grateful. Before the service had quite ended I decided to stay in the side chapel to gather myself. Lindy Tomalin was present and she came and sat with me and gave me a huge hug and a wodge of tissues. She heard me out and then, specifically, emphasised the point in Cheryl's testimony of ‘focusing on what is behind the individual causing the hurt’. Later that day I dwelt on that image and, at some point, when I tried to find the object of my anger, it simply was not there; in its place was a sort of mist hovering over sand. A black line in the sand which had, hitherto, always been in the picture had gone and, no matter how I tried to ‘see’ it again, I couldn't. I felt the peace of the Lord and such joy that these negative emotions had passed; that the tears had dried up and the anger was no more. I used to think that a word or a sign from God would be so couched that I would not recognise it for what it was. In this personal experience I can only marvel at how all the various pieces of the puzzle came together, here on earth, in a public place, with everyday people involved and I was able to recognise it as God's answer to my prayers. I am eternally grateful to Cheryl for her testimony, to Christine, Cathy and Lindy for their prayers and love and to our Saviour and Lord, Jesus Christ, for His ultimate wisdom, grace and love. - Anna Maydon
HAPPY SPECIAL BIRTHDAYS
To deep anger inside against someone who has hurt one of our Peter Wilkinson (12 March) three sons and who continues to Joy Jack (1 April) be a thorn in his flesh. As a parent it was impossible to move on from And now to Him who can keep you this, deep-seated, anger. I knew it on your feet, standing tall in His bright presence, was eating me up inside, so much fresh and celebrating – to our one God, so that I could understand why our only Saviour, through Jesus Christ, our Master, some people might resort to be glory, majesty, strength and rule before all time, physical violence. and now, and to the end of all time. Yes. Some weeks ago Cheryl Anderson Jude 24-25 (The Message) shared with the congregation the hurt and anger she had felt as a result of the way an individual had I’m ready for the rain... behaved towards both she and her sister. Four months later Cheryl lost her sister and her distress and anger were compounded. Ultimately she was released from her anger by the wisdom of God, through those who were praying for her and who were guiding her to focus, not on the individual but by what is ‘behind’ the individual. A few weeks ago I arrived at CCK in quite an emotional state—not prompted by anything in particular... But perhaps it was? I had been very moved by Cheryl's testimony, which clearly resonated with me. That day the sermon passed over my head and the tears were flowing freely. I took communion, returned to my seat but was more focused on the side chapel—saying to myself, ‘shall I, shan't I, shall I, shan't I’? I wanted and needed prayer but didn't want to have to push past the congregation to get to the side chapel. At that moment the whole of the right hand row of chairs, March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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A Journey with Gill & Gerry Adlard Wednesday, 8 March 2017
Dearly Beloved As you may know, Gill suffered a ruptured aneurysm on Monday night. After a dramatic subsequent 12 hours the latest news is that she is doing very well, and able to speak a little and focus her attention. I am gradually catching up with the sleep and the trauma, but one of my challenges is to respond in the way we would both wish to the host of messages that have come in to my rather new mobile phone, which I am just learning to manage... So I thought I would revert to e-mail to tell family and friends what might be an uplifting story of what happened when my darling wife was suddenly laid low. We both recently turned 70—Gill just last Thursday, 2 March. We have kept it quite quiet, because most of the people with whom we associate are much—in some cases exceedingly—older than us! But this Monday morning at our monthly Kirstenbosch Garden Guides meeting someone remembered her birthday and we all sang ‘Happy Birthday’. I was looking at Gill and she just glowed with delight. However, as a (challenging) birthday present to each other we had embarked upon a (very challenging!) marriage course—Love after Marriage—held on Monday evenings at a church that is just a five minute walk from our home. The programme on Monday ended with a group discussion, and Gill and I were the last couple at our table to share our news of quite a wonderful week. By that time all but about seven people had left, when suddenly Gill slumped, in agony from a mighty headache—a typical ‘thunderclap headache’ as I learned later— and then began vomiting. She had been perfectly fine and in the best of health—and I was bewildered. Everyone around jumped into action to help, including a paramedic who took her pulse and insisted that she be rushed to hospital. Someone ’phoned ahead, Gill was bodily carried out into a car and I sat next to her keeping her head up and ensuring that she was breathing. The emergency room at Vincent Pallotti Hospital was expecting us and she sailed straight through (no triage necessary) to a bed, where they put her on drips (her pulse was low and erratic). The doctor said we had 4½ hours to take decisive action, and we had made it in 20 minutes. She was then sent for a CT scan and a neurologist explained the situation to me: it was a posterior communicating artery aneurysm and a lot of blood had been released over the brain. It was very serious, and 30% of patients presenting that would have died already. The first objective was to stop the bleeding, but the danger of complications lay ahead, with how the brain would absorb all the blood—it could clot, become infected and other things could happen—all unpredictable. I was grateful for him preparing me realistically. He told me that there are two specialists in treating aneurysms in Cape Town, and one of them (this at 1 am) had agreed to accept her into the UCT Private Academic Hospital, and she would be transferred there as soon as possible by ambulance. Everyone involved, from the moment it had happened, had shown such authority and wisdom, that I was not frightened or panicking and instead was fascinated and privileged to watch them all at work, and to see how gently they included me and allowed me to see exactly what was going on and to ask questions. The staff at Vincent Pallotti were so impressive, the ambulance men who handled the transfer exuded competence and graciousness, and our friends from the marriage course stayed in the reception area, continuing to be available to help me in any way. It was many hours later that I realized how close Gill and I had been to taking March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
that 5-minute walk home in the dark past a deserted school. I would have been terrified, not known what to do, nobody would have heard me, and I would have had to leave her on the ground and run to get help. It would have suddenly and awfully ended. Before we took the ambulance Gill was put on medication which would discourage the veins in her brain from seizing and reducing the blood flow, and to reduce the swelling of her brain so that a catheter could be inserted, fed into the artery and a coil placed which would heal the wound. Another CT scan was taken in the morning and then Gill was sent to the Cath Lab where the procedure took place. When eventually they wheeled her back James, our eldest son, and I were waiting and two neurosurgeons introduced themselves to us and told us what they had done and what lay ahead. We were to expect very little response for three days, during which time Gill would have no short-term memory, and it would be Days 4-6 which would show if the absorption of the blood had created any problems. Peter, our other Cape Townbased son, and his wife Ros, and Gill's much-loved brother Mark all visited during the day and saw Gill resting but hardly responding. This was all yesterday and the most Gill did was open her eyes fleetingly when we spoke or stroked her. That afternoon, in the midst of lots of messages, I received a ’phone call from a friend who pots plants on Thursday mornings at Kirstenbosch with Gill—just to let me know that she had also had an aneurysm, treated by the same doctors and completely healed. I have now discovered that both doctors are professors at the UCT medical school and are internationally held in high regard. Every time I think of that, a few mls of saline solution trickle down my cheeks. So here we are on Day 2 (Wednesday). Gill looked much better this morning. James popped in later and Gill told him, ‘I love you’. This afternoon she whispered to me, asking where she was and why. They seem like very encouraging signs to me. I am quite overwhelmed by God's love for us. Gill obviously had a vulnerable area in that artery which could not be predicted—but the comprehensiveness of the arrangements: the setting when the thunderclap came, the great help and support of friends who suddenly found themselves as actors in a drama, a paramedic right there, super-efficient staff at the ER, the ambulance men, two brilliant but humble professors, a happy ICU in which we visitors have been made to feel warmly welcome—and all the time a sleeping beauty in the bed oblivious to it all. It would have been so very possible for the story to be pitched at a lower level, but it hasn't been. I know that the story is not over, and that the journey is unpredictable—but I am very, very thankful—and, not least, for all the expressions of love and assurances of prayer that I've received. I am asking our Heavenly Father if, at the very least, Gill can continue enjoying our nine wonderful grandchildren to the full. I would be glad if you could join me in that. With lots of love and appreciation from us both. Gerry Sunday, 12 March Dearly Beloved I use this salutation simply because it tells the greatest truth about us all, Gill included! It is Sunday evening, and I last wrote to you on Wednesday morning (8/3/17). Wednesday afternoon Gill took a cellphone call from her brother, Mark, and clearly understood everything he was saying and she responded with whispered words and chuckles—and from then until today she was increasingly responsive to visiting family members or else deeply asleep. Friday, Saturday and Sunday have been the critical Days 4, 5 & 6 when the external blood is naturally absorbed into the brain and then disposed of through the bloodstream as waste. That process
has to be allowed to take its natural course. The only medication Gill had was painkillers for the permanent headache caused by swelling and the presence of the escaped blood. Friday and Saturday went very well, and she engaged in long (although one-sided) conversations with some of us. This morning, when I visited with Peter's wife Ros, Gill's words were confused and she was not able to complete sentences, which was rather worrying. I arrived home, quite exhausted and fell fast asleep in an armchair. When I went in at 3 pm there were curtains around Gill's bed, a lot of bustling in and out with machines, and I was asked to wait outside until I was called. Eventually a doctor came and told me that Gill had suffered 'a reduced level of consciousness' and that they had put her on a ventilator (an oxygen tube down her throat attached to a machine) and were arranging for her to have a CT Scan to see if there had been another bleed on her brain. I went to have a look at her, wondering if I might not have many more chances to do so, and then broke down in the sister's arms—which, I learned, is one way to earn a free cup of tea in a hospital. They had tried everything to rouse Gill, without success, although she had 'responded to pain'. They didn't elaborate on what kinds of pain they had tried. While I was waiting for my tea to arrive I started ’phoning and whatsapping—rousing the whole Army of God from their Sunday afternoon recreation to crank up the praying for my dear wife. (In the process I discovered that predictive text, once one has got it right, is a great time saver in sending identical messages to many people). I have done a fair bit of weeping this week, and whilst it is a wonderful gift, we are experiencing a drought here in the Western Cape. Thus the idea of any kind of water (soapy, saline or fresh) being allowed to just run away is anathema— not least to the City's mayor who leads the way, although not visibly, by showering in a bucket. I know that the idea of crying in a bucket is not a new one, but my civic duty is beginning to move me in that direction. At this stage I had a picture of Gill as a little child being cradled by Jesus and they were both loving it—and I was somehow just filled with peace, which was very comforting. I was waiting for the hospital to ’phone and tell me what they had found in the CT Scan. At 18h10 the ’phone rang: ‘Your wife is wide awake and laughing and you can come and see her!’ I then had to undo all the calls I had made and suggest that the Lord's Army might like to take a short break. When I got to the hospital the day shift were just going off duty. ‘What happened?’, I asked. The nurses then told me that on the long journey to the CT Scan Gill had woken up, completely, wondering what was going on. They in turn demanded to know why Gill hadn't responded to all their efforts to wake her up—to which Gill laughed and laughed up her oxygen tube, and smiled all through the CT scan and back up the lift and along the very long route back to ICU. They told me that I would still find her wide awake and smiling. However, the professor got there before me and suggested that after all the excitement a mild sedative would be good for the patient. So when I arrived my darling Gillian was out for the count again, with the tube still in for the night as a precaution! Fortunately the parking fee is only R7 per visit, but they don't give one a refund if the patient disappoints, i.e. is not alert and communicative. I decided to treat myself to a Spur Burger with fried onions and chips and a glass of Weiss, and took my 1955 Nevil Shute novel for company. It’s a nice old-fashioned book, March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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but as an adventure I don't think that it holds a candle to the roller-coaster, swings, roundabouts and helter-skelter action of a real life-and-death drama under the benevolent gaze of our Creator, Redeemer and Friend. Thank you for your love and prayers, and for all the encouraging messages l have received. I feel very blessed and privileged to have you as a dear Friend. Shalom. Gerald Monday 13 March One of the professors woke me up half an hour ago and said that on the CT Scan that they did while Gill was chuckling away they noticed something a little worrying, that might require some more 'coiling'. So they were going to take her back for another scan and then probably to the 'Cath Lab' for some more coils to be inserted into the aneurysm. Perhaps you'd like to Google 'endovascular coiling' to see what this is all about—there are also some very helpful pictures on this amazing procedure. Lots of love. Gerald Prof le F phoned again—they have been into the artery and the healing looks good. But her veins are still a bit stressed and narrow so they are going to keep her on the ventilator for a couple of days. Lots of love. G Tuesday 14 March This morning our daughter-in-law Michelle came with me to the ICU and found Gill deeply asleep, heavenly sedated, on a respirator and being fed through a tube through a nostril. Fortunately Prof le F arrived, and explained her circumstances. He explained that 60% of all cases of cerebral aneurysm experience what I later learned is called 'vasospasm', of which half the cases, including Gill's, are 'symptomatic', i.e. create a perceptible change in the condition of the body. Vasospasm is the erratic narrowing of the brain's blood vessels and this can limit the blood flow and cause additional cell damage and loss. The doctor explained that this condition is usually resolved by Day 10 (we are now in Day 8), but can last for 3 weeks. Gill and I are blessed with three loving daughters-in-law, and the other Cape Town-based one, Ros (a doctor) has just told me that she has just seen Gill and a physio who is attending to her and who is pleased with her movement and thinks that her prognosis is good. (We saw Gill's dietician this morning! As some dear friends have been warning me, many more Spur Burgers, and I will need a dietician as well.) Our other daughter-in-law, Anna, keeps a loving eye on our son Ben, and their three young darlings, who in many ways are in the toughest position in this drama, as they live in North Carolina. So, that is where we are. And because I know that so many people are praying for Gill and me, this is the most practical way to keep you up to date. If you wonder who is getting this it is family members, family friends far and wide, church friends, Gill's dancing friends (Worship/Israeli and Line), members of her sewing group, the team with whom she used to make sandwiches at Feeding the Hungry, everyone associated with the Kirstenbosch Garden Guides and Plant Fair, our Botanical Society Hiking Group and plant potters, and my old school friends from Bulawayo—a very precious collection of antiques, now scattered all over the world. I have probably left out others. And some of you have passed the word on to prayer chains and even to some old school and varsity friends of whom we haven't heard for 50 or more years. It has been such a treat to hear from you. I really appreciate your prayers, because I can only pray a little, imagine more than I should and try to keep myself busy with little tasks. Lots of love. Gerald Thursday 16 March Once upon a time... Today is much like that, with Gill lying very
peacefully, and we are all just waiting for her to wake up. The truth is that she is generally rather a careful, cautious raiser of the eyelids. There has been one weekly exception: for about 20 years she rocketed out of bed at 06h00 to join her team of sandwichmakers for the men waiting for work by the side of the road. She loves being part of a team—in her group potting plants or weeding in Kirstenbosch or dancing in a troupe also gives her great joy. Gill has been asleep since Monday [13/3/17] lunchtime—and since then her meals have reached her through her right nostril. She is watched like a hawk by the very vigilant ICU nurses and doctors, looking for any abnormal signs and responding to them. Twitching led to questions about seizures and to an EEG [inconclusive], but after her right cheek started twitching this morning they immediately applied medication, which successfully addressed that. I try to talk her into waking up, and the nurses do it rather louder. Our son Peter is visiting her now and has threatened to tickle her awake. I trust that he will try it under supervision... Please pray that she will wake up as soon as it is safe for her to do so. Some kind people have asked how I am doing—a bit up and down but generally fine and focused. I am fascinated by the healing process, and everyone's contributions to it. I am also seeing God at work in all kinds of situations, and the love that flows through people—not least in all the messages I receive. I have also learned that if one innocently mentions treating oneself to a Spur Burger alarms go off all over the world which warn me to eat properly, and they activate whole divisions of the Women's Catering Corps who ply me with the most amazing culinary delights. I am very appreciative, but I only had one burger. Lastly, some readers have never seen Gill, so here she is— wide awake and without any tubes—kindly sent to me by one of our dear hiking friends. With my love and great appreciation. Gerald Sunday 19 March Gill is in a state of deep and restful unconsciousness, and has not opened her eyes or whispered a word since Monday lunchtime. We as family members have visited, watched, touched, prayed—and observed with wonder and gratitude all that is being done to bring her through this strange time with the best possible outcome. Thank you for extending your love to Gill and praying for her. We have been astonished by the extent of this, and are so very, very grateful. Thank you for praying for me also. It is a huge privilege to be held up in prayer. Perhaps I should tell you where I find myself... From the moment of Gill's collapse I had to surrender any kind of control over the situation. Not only was it way beyond my understanding and experience, but I was acutely aware that God was in control. I can only believe that He stage-managed the whole business and has directed it every step of the way. As March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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I have previously described, had it happened three minutes later the circumstances, and my memories for ever afterwards, would be too ghastly to contemplate. In a nutshell, I have been Godwatching non-stop for 13 days and have been enthralled by all that has happened. I am a tiny spectator in a great drama. Perhaps my main function has been to surrender Gill, but I learned to do that a long time ago. It was in a moment where I knew that Jesus was calling me to trust Him more, to 'go into deeper water', when I thought I was in pretty deep already. So I pleaded, ‘What about my wife and my children?’ and quick as a flash He retorted, ‘Whose wife, and whose children?’ That certainly shut me up, but when after a few days I plucked up the courage to tell Gill very warily of this conversation she roared with laughter at my seriousness. When I asked her what was so funny she told me that she had surrendered me to Jesus years before—and why had I been slow to understand! I fell in love with Gill the first time I saw her, literally 'across a crowded room' as the song goes, and I have loved her through the 52 years since then. But my love has been nothing more than a pale imitation of the love showered upon her by her Heavenly Father with whom she has always had a very intimate relationship. So perhaps my role has been as a consort, friend, provider, protector and father of our children—but always something very much less than that provided to her by God. We have been placed in each other's care for a season—almost as an assignment, but not as a possession. I am filled with gratitude for what we have enjoyed and feel totally secure that the hands that are gently caring for her are very much bigger than the hands of all the brilliant and dedicated medics who are devoted to her well-being. And if He decides that her 3 score years and 10 + 17 days is enough I can accept that, for my cup really does overflow and will stay that way. Although I have become a bit of a bubbling brook myself every time my emotions rise to the surface, I have been so aware that I am standing on safe, solid rock. As you might have gathered from my earlier mails, I have found the medical procedures fascinating. From the anaesthetist's account I noticed that the procedure took almost three hours, operated by two professors of neurosurgery. What a gift for my darling! And I have also learned that because Gill's malaise constituted an 'emergency' our medical aid fund is required by law to cover the full expense, as a Prescribed Medical Benefit. It is all a bit like the grace of God, isn't it: perfect, all-embracing, and a free gift to us all. Another great revelation for me has been the creative and loving ways in which our friends have responded to my attempts to share this journey. I have been encouraged in a myriad ways and have felt empowered by your care in a very real way. Perhaps as we open ourselves up to each other and to God our tiny 'mustard seeds' of hope, faith and love take root, sprout and multiply. It seems so, and I am a very grateful beneficiary. Thank you! It is just past 23h00 on Sunday night. Tomorrow morning Gill will be wheeled to the Radiology Unit to have another CAT Scan. It will 'photograph' slices of her brain, and Prof T will be able to see the degree to which Gill's brain is surviving the experience of the past two weeks. If it looks good then more rest will probably be beneficial. If it doesn't then it probably won't. Our family have so much, and so many, to be thankful for. We go to bed tonight knowing not what the future holds—knowing only Who holds it. With much love and appreciation. Gerald Tuesday 21 March And so it came to pass that Prof T and a most motherly ICU nursing sister who drives in from 52 kms away every day to care
for her patients—even though she should have retired—sat six of us down in a private room to tell us what the CT Scan showed. Gill has a large blood clot within each lobe of her brain, creating a massive stroke in each, from which survival is virtually impossible and if so, with no chance of living a normal life. The damage is so extensive that he doesn't think Gill has been aware of anything at all since last Monday. This was not just a technical report. It was delivered with great love and tenderness and the prof told us that the last time he had seen Gill conscious, his wife had accompanied him and had been greatly moved by Gill's smiling at everyone and her peace and joy. When he told his wife what the scan had shown she broke down. Even in her dying Gill has shed abroad the love, light and joy of God. We ended the meeting with a prayer of thankfulness and blessing. Thank you for your love and prayers. Gill's body and mind will be allowed to die gently over the next day or so, as the medical staff gradually reduce assistance. We shall gather to give thanks and praise to God for Gill's life and for the Hope that He has given us next Tuesday* if possible, at CCK. It is inconceivable to have a predominantly sad funeral for Gill, so her dancing friends are already practicing! I shall keep you informed of the details. With my love and immense appreciation. Gerald The ventilator was switched off and Gill continued to breathe on her own till she finally went home to her Lord at 7.10 am, 28 March. We praise God for the life He gave her and for the life she gave back to Him and for all those with whom she journeyed. * The service was full of worship, thanksgiving, joy, memories, people, colour, flowers and dance—Gill would have approved.
A Point to Ponder In death, you once more challenge people from every strata, religion, and position to think about how their own actions do and can change the world for better or worse. Ahmed Kathrada [1929-2017]
Parenting in the Wild - Sent in by Alison Kempton-Jones
March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
Is Sozo More Than So-So?
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Is God more than Good? On New Year's Eve 1977, over forty years ago, I was attending a retreat at a monastery in the Eastern Free State and the presiding minister invited us to see in the new year by holding a 'service for the healing of memories'. I remember standing in the back row hearing him explain that God has known and loved us since He first planned us, before we were conceived, and that He is able to engage us at any moment in our lives—in the present or past—if we invite Him to. God is not limited by time and His love is also unlimited. So if we were ever hurt but not healed it is never too late for Him to fix it. I found this 'inner healing' service mildly interesting but somewhat confusing. A few people asked to be prayed for but I didn't get involved and soon forgot all about it. Some eight months later I was driving from Pinelands to Tokai with a friend, Peter, to fulfil a request that we had received to lead a church group who wished to grow as disciples of Jesus. Soon after he picked me up I asked him what he had planned for the session. ‘I assumed that you would be organising that!’, he responded. Tokai was getting nearer every second. I was quiet for a bit ... and then said, ‘We're going to do inner healing with them—Jesus has just shown me how it works!’ And so it came to pass that a lady was that evening completely healed of a fear that had gripped her since she was a little girl and complicated her life ever since. And, rather like some kind of cake mix, it was ‘O so easy!’ The process was also so gentle, loving and peaceful, a real pleasure for everyone there. Ever since then I have made myself available to anyone who has asked for inner healing, and my wife Gill has usually joined us to help pray and follow God's promptings. We have watched so many people encounter Jesus and have their tears replaced with joy, and their fears replaced with peace. The greatest benefit to us has been having a front seat to observe and learn how much God loves us all and how tenderly He draws us into wholeness. So many people have been changed by Jesus whilst sitting in an armchair in our lounge—and not a few expressed the desire to sit there forever. We never publicised it, and often months would go by without anyone ’phoning us up—but I often felt that such a beautiful and effective ministry deserved to be advertised more, involve more prayer ministers and be scaled up… When Gill and I returned to CCK last Easter and wondered how best we could make a contribution we spotted the advert for Sozo in the parish notices and decided to investigate. We knew very little about it, and after talking to Sandy Collier, the leader of the St John's Parish Sozo team, we borrowed a set of videos that are used to train Sozo ministers. These came from Bethel Church, in Redding, California—and without knowing anything about Bethel but being naturally suspicious we braced ourselves for a noisy, flashy, brash experience. Reality was very different—two ordinary ladies wearing ordinary clothes and no fancy make-up, talked about what our extraordinary God delights to do in the lives of those who ask Him. They also proceeded to teach all the stuff that we had learned from experience and reading—with exactly the same emphasis and similar examples. They had picked up some other ministry tools as well, which was intriguing. Their ministry had grown, internationally, and they had developed ways to order and authorise it effectively. So Gill and I attended a training course in Cape Town (with people from many other churches and denominations), learned how to use the tools of a 'Bethel Sozo', surrendered our armchair in favour of a prayer room at CCK and came under Rob Taylor's spiritual covering.
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'Sozo' is the name given to this ministry because it is a Greek word meaning becoming whole or well—through healing, salvation, deliverance, liberation—and is used over a hundred times to describe what God does. A helpful example is that when Jesus encountered the ten lepers in Luke 17:11-19 they all became healed, but for the one who returned praising and thanking God and was 'made well' by Jesus, the word 'sozo' was used. To be made perfectly well would appeal to most of us, I expect. Furthermore, the means of becoming well are supremely enjoyable and satisfying. The reason is that when you come for a Sozo the prime objective of your hosts will be to facilitate an encounter for you with each of Father God, Jesus Christ and Holy Spirit—and it will be you who talks and listens to them and receives their encouragement and blessing directly. We may not have realised that the vital roles of father, mother and friends/ siblings in our upbringing are reflections of the more fundamental roles played in our lives by Father God (provider, protector), Holy Spirit (guide, comforter) and Jesus (friend, redeemer). You will be invited to ask each of them a few key questions and to listen and respond to what they tell you. There will also be opportunities to check whether you have left yourself vulnerable to assault through fear, hatred, shame or occult activity and to get help from Jesus in closing and sealing those doors. People who feel vulnerable usually build some kind of protective wall around themselves, which often does more harm than good. Once your partnership with God has been optimised you can ask Him to help you dismantle the wall so that you are no longer imprisoned, and have your proper view restored. Expect to spend quality time just absorbing and appropriating the transforming love of God, and being set free to enjoy with Him the life that He had always intended for you. Every Sozo is as unique as you are, so instead of offering you some 'typical testimonies', we offer you the ultimate treat: a completely personalised date with your three greatest fans. Too good to be true? That is simply the nature of God, and He made us to receive, absorb and release it to others in a neverending flow. This is why, in the light of the invitation from Jesus to CCK to 'come deeper in and further out', I recently asked each of our three congregations: How do you really feel about going further and deeper with God?
Ready? Available? Open to Anything? And Alert?... Or Cautious? Resistant? Anxious? Preoccupied? Are you standing at the bus stop waiting for Jesus, with no luggage because you trust Him? Or are you busy elsewhere, wondering if you are good enough, ready enough, available enough—or if He calls you will you know precisely where you are going, for how long, how many bags you can take, what should be put in them, who you can bring, should you first ’phone a friend and might there be a real danger of missing the bus altogether? How would it be if instead of fussing or agonising, you could spend a couple of hours getting the undivided personal attention of the three persons who know you best and love you most— Father God, Jesus Christ and Holy Spirit? And that in direct conversation with them they get you ready for what lies ahead— and sort out what has gone on before? They pick up pieces and put them where they belong; they set you free from unnecessary encumbrances. They show you what you don't need and help you get rid of it—and they illuminate, clean out and freshen up every room and cupboard in your life. Gently. Graciously. Your eyes will be opened, your ears unblocked, your mind will be renewed, your memories cleansed, your hurts healed, your fears assuaged, your purpose rekindled and your power replenished. That is 'being made whole', made capable of being who you were designed to be. Fully connected to the Godhead. Saved from condemnation and shame. Healed from your most pernicious impediments and delivered from your jailors. This whole package describes what Jesus offers us all. We have a Sozo team in St John's Parish and based here at CCK. We're here to serve you—to give you those two hours or more in a personal encounter with each member of the Holy Trinity, focussed only and directly upon you. In love. Tenderly. And in complete confidence. The only prerequisite is your desire to be whole and at your optimum. Just as you don't wait for your car to break down before you have it serviced, don't wait for a crisis before you have your Sozo. You will be surprised by joy, and indescribably blessed. Ask Jesus if He would like you to have a Sozo. Members of the St John's Parish Sozo Team have been trained by Bethel Sozo (see www.bethelsozo.com) and minister under the oversight of their respective ministers. If you would like to find out more about Sozo, or to arrange a convenient time for a session, please contact sozo.stjohnsparish@gmail.com or 021-797-6332. - Gerry Adlard
You don’t have to stop having fun when you get old… You get old when you stop having fun. Facebook: Up, Down & Roundabouts
March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
Memories of Feeding the Hungry For ten years I left my home in the UK regularly to paste my
mother back again as Emphysema laid her low but, after her death in 1989, I found myself reluctant to return full-time to my home in England. My husband had served in the Navy and we benefitted from long absences so I looked around for excuses to make a second life here. I was scooped up to teach in Langa but that still left time so I looked to see what Christ Church had to offer and I found Feeding the Hungry which was still in its early days. I signed on for three days a week in 1990, reducing my time as I grew older until 18 months ago when I ‘retired’. In the beginning we were serving in two places on Wetton Road but as time wore on and numbers grew we divided into two groups. We also doubled the amount of bread we made into sandwiches and we made more nutritious peanut butter filling although when, on occasion, we were given jam as one of our friends cleared her pantry, we gave our ‘hungry’ jam sandwiches which they thoroughly enjoyed. Over the years only one man was allergic to peanut butter and we kept jam for him. In the early days, especially, we had behaviour problems with the men and my experience in tough British schools was invaluable as I separated knife-wielding men or removed sticks from them. I was on ‘crowd control’ for some time but the men got used to queuing for their sandwiches and tea and became, on the whole, quite well behaved. There were moments, of course, when we had to exert a bit of muscle such as the time when one man decided that I must give him my watch since we now lived in the ‘new South Africa’. I refused but gave him his sandwiches and tea and he was escorted away by two members of the queue!
Feeding the Hungry Rising Part 2 Bettaway Community Church Following on the story of our visit to The Children’s Library, here is
the story of our visit to Bettaway Community Church in Delft, on the Cape flats. The surrounding area is in stark contrast to our leafy, safe, secure neighbourhoods. It is a sprawling, sub-economic suburb with dusty, untidy streets crowded with dilapidated little houses and there is sand everywhere. As with most similar areas, drug abuse and gangster activity are huge problems. Gill Adlard commented, ‘Visiting Bettaway is the perfect antidote for those feeling despondent about South Africa. One man’s vision and perseverance over seventeen years has created a Beacon of Hope in a beleaguered community. Our visit to Bettaway confirms that God is alive and well and doing wonderful deeds through His dedicated and humble people.’ Jean Swan ‘Clive met us on the outskirts of Delft and first took us to the ‘rural’ suburbs. We stopped outside Headman and Shirley’s house. They have a beautifully kept small home and yard with a small but thriving veggie garden. Headman has erected a little shaded summer-house area across the road with tables and chairs made from packing cases. Shirley runs a soup kitchen from a hatch March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
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He never returned. We also had a few women in our queues and they brought their children in the school holidays. Some also had babies who chewed away at a sandwich or were given tea in their bottles. I remember one regular who, I thought, should have had a job as she seemed far more intelligent than the others but she was often depressed and she once told me she needed a hug. I put down my basket, hugged her and she said she felt much better and able to carry on with her day. I remember serving a very young man who must have just arrived from the Eastern Cape. He had on a pair of women’s slippers, probably not having worn shoes at home, and he was looking for a job. So many events made for a very sore heart. But there were always the moments that seemed full of hope such as the day that I stopped at a corner in Claremont on my way to Langa to teach. A man ran up to me with a pail and a filthy cloth and offered to clean my car windows. I turned him down as I had no money on me and he said, I don’t want payment. You give us food in Wetton. Altogether, I think we must have fed the hungry of the area for just over 30 years of which I worked for 26. We made close friends among ourselves and got to know many of the people we fed pretty well so the rewards were great. It is with deep sadness that I hear that Feeding the Hungry is no more. We learned how to deal with men out of control but there were so many who were well-behaved; some who wanted to help and who carried our baskets for us or who disciplined the queues. Always, I think, we benefitted as much from interaction with these people as they did getting to know us.
- Angela Prew
he erected in their garden. This couple epitomises my conviction that we are empowered through knowing and experiencing the love of God the Father.’ John Rogers: ‘It was good, speaking now as a keen vegetable gardener in Newlands, to see top-quality vegetables being
grown beside some homes. The dedication and high calibre of the assistants was remarkable and the quiet concentration of the pupils was praiseworthy. The pupils were all neat and their handwriting was very neat, unlike my own!’ Moving on to the church, we found a modest building, not unlike those around it. During the week it serves as a
community hall, music school, and homework club, as well as a central soup preparation kitchen. Inside we found neat rows of desks housing children doing homework (two rows for primary and one for high school students). In a township where many homes are too small to even have a table, this quiet and orderly space is a godsend. In an adjoining building we found Britt Dyer, a charming young person from the USA, working with an enthusiastic bunch of kids. These are ‘at risk’ children from the neighbourhood who need help, and she works with them, befriending them, building them up, and teaching them. In another adjoining building, a small group of women run remedial classes to help the children who are struggling with their reading and maths. Julian Bailey: ‘It was excellent to meet Clive, a man full of infectious passion, and I heartily enjoyed just seeing the smiling faces of the children and the enthusiasm of the assistants.’ Land Middlekoop: ‘They were there to work and along the way to help each other. As a retired teacher, I was also impressed with the stories of matric exams passed and also those who had succeeded on the second attempt.’ Jenni McMaster: ‘There is a lot going on at Bettaway. We saw the plans for the new church and heard how the Lord has been providing the funds. Clive has an interesting scheme so that everyone can share in the project, even though the community is mainly poor.’ Clive explained the layout of the expansions which will shortly be under construction on the same site as the present church and adjoining plots. Many expanded and much-needed facilities will be on offer once completed, e.g. a clinic. The group felt that this was a very worthy place in which to invest our time and resources. Bettaway Community Church is expanding: Building is expensive and Clive and his team have come up with a most ingenious method of raising much-needed funds. Donors are invited to buy a ‘brick’ for R1000 between now and end of June. The Bettaway congregation has pledged R75 000! Members of CCK, will you consider buying a brick, or part thereof? The social transformation committee have pooled resources and bought a ‘brick’ and encourage other groups to do likewise. If you take up this challenge, please use the reference ‘Bettaway Brick’ when making payment..
- Jean Swan March/April 2017 Eight O’Clock News
The Present-Tense Christ.
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Jesus never says, ‘I was.’
We do. We do because ‘we were’— younger, faster, prettier. Prone to be people of the past tense, we reminisce. Not God. Unwavering in strength, He need never say, ‘I was.’ From the centre of the storm, the unwavering Jesus shouts, ‘I am’. Tall in the Trade Tower wreckage. Bold against the Galilean waves. ICU, battlefield, boardroom, prison cell, or maternity ward—whatever your storm, ‘I am.’ Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hebrews 13:8. [See also John 10:36, 11:25, 14:6 and 15:1] - Extract from Max Lucado, Grace for the Moment
For Reflection... Lord, it’s easy to forget the first joy of knowing You, the longed for recognition of when You first called me by name understanding came easier then, and sometimes I wish we were there still. A simpler faith, and my questions seemed smaller. Lord, help me to embrace the change that leads to a deepening of faith, releasing things which bind, in exchange for Your boundless freedom. Freedom to love You, with all of my heart, my mind and my strength. Amen
Lord, whatever our story, wherever we find ourselves today, let us remember Your story. Your Son, sent for us, given for the rescue of all. Let us remember that this life leads to the next, true and eternal, a home with you. Eden restored, the earth redeemed, and we are truly home, with you. Jenny Hawke
A Blessing I chose this blessing to instill: * the concept of the Trinity; * the balance of God's goodness / holiness with His love; * the expectation that God is alive and active; * that He is to be experienced in the here and now. May the goodness of God, the love of God, and the power of God— Father, Son and Holy Spirit— be known among us today. Amen - Sue Taylor Editorial Team Tel/e-mail Ev Els
021 696 0336 emichael@iafrica.com
Cheryl Anderson
083 272 1530 canderson@beckman.com