Choice

I have been pondering the beautiful, terrible thing that is human choice. Following on from my musings on the grapefruit, I am so grateful that I get to choose to drink deep of all that is life. I get to choose to accept abundance, to partake of both the bitterness AND joy of the human adventure. But the terrible thing is that I am also free to choose NOT to receive all that is available to me. I am also free to choose to hide, choose to opt out whenever I feel like it. And even more than that, other people are free to make choices too...! I can’t control anyone else’s choices (even more importantly, I should never try to), however they might affect me; and it is good.

Choice is empowering. Choice means that I get to play a part in the unfolding of my own life; in the writing of my own story. Choice is the Father’s invitation to me to be a co-creator, co-author with him. Here’s where it gets tricky though. If I never make powerful choices, if I just go along with the flow, I never have to take responsibility for the consequences. Or at least, that’s how we feel about it all. The truth is that even when I opt out of making a decision – well, I’ve actually chosen not to choose, and therefore the go-with-the-flow results are really something I DO have to take responsibility for after all! So what’s tough about choice is that it comes with consequences, and therefore requires ownership. And we are petrified (in the fear-filled as well as the turned-to-stone sense of the word) by the fear of the consequences of our choices. So we opt out of them. Or we make hurried choices that we later regret. Now, I am no stranger to putting up the “no responsibility hands”. Here’s a demonstration:

Thanks Asanda!

These are VERY helpful in certain situations. Picture this: you and your friends want to watch a DVD, but can’t decide which one. You make a suggestion, which is then followed through on... except everyone hates it. You are now responsible for having chosen the movie everyone hates. Well done you. What you should have done, right as you made the suggestion, was put up the no-responsibilty-hands, thus absolving yourself from all future fall-out. Very helpful indeed. What is NOT helpful is when the figurative no-responsibility hands come out to play – warning bells should start ringing. I have to go ahead and make a choice, regardless of whether it’s the “right” one or not. I can’t be afraid to make a choice in case it’s wrong. Chances are, it may be the wrong choice, but what is important is that I MAKE it, and later figure out my way through the consequences. Madeleine L’Engle says, “We don’t know. We can only make guesses, and our guesses may be wrong. Far too often in this confused world we are faced with choices, all of which are wrong, and the only thing we can do, in fear and trembling, is to choose the least wrong, without pretending to ourselves that it is right.”

If it is so easy for me to make the wrong choice, why is it still so important for me to actively make decisions in my own life? Why not let everything take me where it wills? You see, I believe in an intentional God, a God whose image I am made in. I don’t think he planned a go-with-the-flow life for me. He is the God of structure AND creativity (just look at a sunset – the sun always rises, but it looks different every day), the God of form and improvisational spontaneity. But my life is not a consistently improvisational melody – it’s more like a call and response song between the Creator and me. I am meant to be intentional about my life. When Jesus went willingly to the cross to do what no one else could do for me – to renew the broken places in me, and restore my relationship with the Father – one of the things his sacrifice achieved for me was the beautiful gift of choice. If Jesus hadn’t died for me, I wouldn’t be ABLE to choose him; I would have had no choice but to continue with existence without him. What’s wild is that in giving me the gift of choice, he also enabled me NOT to choose him – let that sink in. He is so committed to me having the gift of choice that he gave it regardless of whether I would use it to walk towards or away from him. What else says “unconditional love” more clearly than that?!

When I extend love to someone – boy does it (usually) mean that I’m hoping they’ll return it (in some way or another!).  And if they don’t, of course I’d feel deeply rejected. And perhaps I might resort to some kind of manipulation to try win a response. But to love fully, to give the gift of love from a completely open heart, knowing that it may never be returned – that is true vulnerability; that is courage in action. As Ghandi said: “A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.”

Now, I don’t know how to simultaneously wrap my brain around the fact that I have free will and a choice, and the fact that God is completely sovereign and knows every day of my life before I have lived it. But what I think this means is that he trusts my heart more than I do. If I have chosen to allow my heart to be the place where he takes up residence, then I can trust it to lead me true. And I can also trust that even if I make the wrong choice (and chances are strong), it is not the end of the world. There is always hope. I can’t control 90% of what happens in my life (and perhaps I should not try to control that 10%), but I CAN choose how to respond (not simply react) to it all.

Have you ever thought about the phrase “this made me feel (x)”? When I say, “You made me [feel] sad,” to someone, I am essentially putting up the no-responsibility-hands in regards to my own emotions. I am saying, “I had no choice, I was forced [by you] into feeling like this.” But as vindicating as that phrase may feel to trump out (because if how I feel is the other person’s fault, then it is not mine), it is untrue, and it is evidence of me giving up my choice. It means that I am going through life reacting to everything instead of choosing a response. Regardless of how someone treats me, I have this beautiful (and terrible!) endowment of choice, that it is my responsibility to make use of. I can’t do a thing about their choices, but I have to make use of the gift given to me. When I was a kid I had this wonderful gift from my parents: a little tape player that could be plugged into the wall but could also work on batteries. I remember listening to audio books on long roadtrips – that tape player went everywhere with me. It was always so sad when the batteries eventually ran out. But then, once we got home, I could plug it into an electricity source, and listen to stories for hours, as I painted my way through the weekends or holidays. Perhaps the gift of choice is a little like that – I can make some good decisions on my own battery power for a while,though I’ll eventually run out of my own wisdom and natural instinct. But the Holy Spirit is a source that I will never be able to diminish through use, and he always makes himself available to me. The gift that he has given me will work best when I use it in partnership with him. And what a glorious partnership that is.

Observations on the Grapefruit

I have always loved all kinds of citrus – the zing freshly-squeezed lemon juice adds to a meal; the satisfying sweetness of a naartjie (similar to a mandarin/tangerine, for my international friends); and above all, the orange. This is because some of my fondest childhood memories include reading Asterix or The Famous Five with my dad – and stopping to find a snack because the Famous Five were ALWAYS picnicking, and we weren’t about to be left out. I remember lying across the bed, book propped open on the floor below, sucking the juice out of an orange sliced through its equator. Once it had been drained of the last drop, you could invert the half and eat the left-behind bits of halved and sapped segments. To this day, the merest whiff of orange takes me back to my dad and those books.

All citrus, that is, besides grapefruit. I developed an early loathing for the grapefruit, which my father’s assurances about its excellent flavour and deeply refreshing qualities did nothing to assuage. I remember attempting *minute* pieces of the fruit, always spitting it out hastily, repulsed by its bitterness. As a child, I was always a seeker of sweetness, and I could not fathom why anyone would choose to eat this tart fruit.

It is only recently that I have developed a deep affection for the grapefruit, and learned an appreciation for its unique taste and scent. Here is my new-found conclusion about this fruit: if you eat a grapefruit tentatively, hesitantly, all you will discover of it is its bitterness. In fact, as happened to me as a child, that bitterness may overwhelm you and prevent you from ever wanting to sample a grapefruit again. But if you eat a whole chunk of grapefruit, if you go ahead and chew away on it all at once... it is only then that you discover the (best kept) secrets of the grapefruit: its sweetness, its incomparable flavour and the bouquet of its scent.

The grapefruit requires an all-or-nothing approach. Another childhood memory: standing on the edge of a pool, wondering if I dared leap, shrieking, into the cool depths. Sun beating down on me, toes curling away from the blazing heat of cement beneath them, the water beckoning – and yet all the fears of the cold and the unknown of the water tugging me back. Teetering on the brink – do I dare? Will I dare? Now! Not yet. Now! Not yet... But once the courage had been summoned, and the leap leapt, the water was usually always more delightful than you thought it would be. The same holds true, I find, for the grapefruit. One can’t simply dip one’s toes in. One must dive headfirst into the eating of the grapefruit.

I think the reason why I am appreciating this fruit now more than I ever have before is that this all-or-nothing response to this particular citrus is how I feel life should be lived. Forrest Gump taught us all: “Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re gonna get,” and although I will always remain appreciative of Mr Gump and his views, I’d rather compare life to the grapefruit. Life is NOT consistently sweet, but one can’t creep around the edges of it, recoiling at the first contact with bitterness. Every time we flinch back, we miss discovering the sweetness on the other side of the acerbic. When South African rugby boys are learning to tackle, they are taught, “Hoe harder jy ingaan, hoe minder maak dit seer” (the harder/more aggressively you go in for a tackle, the less painful it will be). Perhaps this is an oversimplification, and I’m sure many a rugby player has looked back on this advice ruefully... but I am still convinced that it is far better to embrace life – ALL of life – wholeheartedly, than only receive the gifts wrapped in the prettiest paper.

I have tasted something of the soul-rending bitterness which accompanies the human condition and existence; though perhaps I cannot equate my experience with many others who have suffered far more than I (is it possible to measure and compare individual suffering though? I remain unconvinced). When I take the time to truly *see* another person, especially someone who seems to know more of life’s pain than I do, I wonder if this advice – this charge to embrace all of life fully, even recklessly – is folly; is insulting. But what I know to be true is that every time I have attempted to numb my heart to pain, inoculate myself against sadness, I have succeeded only in dimming joy right alongside hurt. And that is something I never want to do. Joy is the Spirit, it cannot exist apart from him, and I never want to place him behind a locked door, nor even a veil. There are moments when I am overwhelmed by the bitterness I taste in the world, and my mind balks when I hear something like “God allows in his kindness what he could easily prevent in his power” (Graham Cooke); but my heart knows that to be true. Because my heart knows HIM to be true, his nature consistent, and consistently good. His joy will always be my compass, keeping me facing the truest North through bitter waves and the sweetest of waters.

As a child, I was always a seeker of sweetness – and I am still, and it is something I refuse to lose: joy is the serious business of heaven. But sometimes the sweetest moments lie just beyond the most bitter. So let us dive in, drink deep; let us eat up! 

Feeding the Lake

I have been re-reading one of my favourite books of all time - Madeleine L'Engle's "Walking on Water" - and am feeling challenged and inspired. As I do every time I read it! This is what has stood out most clearly this go-round though:

"If the work comes to an artist and says, "Here I am, serve me," then the job of the artist, great or small, is to serve. The amount of the artist's talent is not what it is about. Jean Rhys said to an interviewer in the Paris Review, "Listen to me. All of writing is a huge lake. There are great rivers that feed the lake, like Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. And there are mere trickles, like Jean Rhys. All that matters is feeding the lake. I don't matter. The lake matters. You must keep feeding the lake." To feed the lake is to be a servant."

"To paint a picture or to write a story or to compose a song is an incarnational activity. The artist is a servant who is willing to be a birth-giver. In a very real sense the artist (male or female) should be like Mary, who, when the angel told her that she was to bear the Messiah, was obedient to the command."

"When a shoddy novel is published the writer is rejecting the obedient response, taking the easy way out. But when the words mean more than the writer knew they meant, then the writer has been listening. And sometimes when we listen, we are led into places we do not expect, into adventures we do not always understand. Mary did not understand. But one does not have to understand to be obedient."

"Someone wrote, "The principal part of faith is patience," and this applies, too, to art of all disciplines. We must work every day, whether we feel like it or not; otherwise when it comes time to get out of the way and listen to the work, we will not be able to heed it."

She tells a story about a village whose clock-maker dies; and many years later, when a new clock-maker comes to town, only those clocks which have been kept wound by their owners (even if they have lost a little time) can be mended and re-wound by the new clock maker. She goes on to say: 

"We must daily keep things wound; that is, we must pray when prayer seems as dry as dust; we must write when we are physically tired, when our hearts are heavy, when our bodies are in pain. We may not always be able to make our "clock" run correctly, but we at least can keep it wound so that it will not forget."

I'm sure you're beginning to pick up the gist...! When I look back over my last few posts (oh so long ago) so many of them begin with some variation of "It's been so long since I last wrote...". And the novel that I began writing a year or two ago (30 000 words so far) lies languishing in the deep recesses of my laptop's hard-drive. I have not been keeping the clock wound. I have neglected to feed the lake.

This blog began merely as a kind of online dairy for sharing my experiences at the 18 Inch Journey (2011) and my internship at A Place for the Heart (2012). But whilst a member of this incredible community that has become my family and my second home - I began to discover more and more of my own voice, my own "trickle" that could feed the lake, if I let it. I was reminded again that I am a writer, that I have something worth saying... and most importantly that I really love writing, even if it scares the *poop* out of me. 

So. Well played, Madeleine. I hear ya. I have gone off and bought myself the plainest of plain notebooks (one that I don't feel awful about scrawling all sorts of brain-ramblings into), and I am determined to re-enter the fray. Because it is worth fighting this fight! And some fragments of those ramblings may perchance make their way out into this space. You can keep an eye out if you like, and prod me now and then. I may need it...

Ja, I wasn't kidding about the plainness... 

Writing again...

During the course of the summer, the students take part in what we call "collectives" - they get to choose between book-making, writing, photography and music. I had the AMAZING privilege of being one of the leaders in the writing collective this year (along with two of the best brothers a girl could ask for), and we had the most fantastic time. We produced a BOOK by the end of the summer, I kid you not. One day we'll have it in pdf format, and hopefully then I'll be able to share it with you (if all the authors don't mind). BUT here's the thing about me and writing. I love writing. I know it is a deep passion of my heart, and something I'm meant to be pursuing more actively. But because my heart is so serious about it... well, quite honestly I'm scared stiff most of the times I come to write anything. I think perhaps my four years of studying 'The Greats' in English literature gave me a deeper love for it all - but severely intimidated me. How can you produce something when you know it'll never hold its own when compared to Dickens/Shakespeare/Milton/Donne/Henry James/Herbert etc etc etc?! Therein lies the problem... comparison. If I keep comparing my writing to others', I'll never write anything. And the world will be robbed of my unique voice. A friend of mine once told me that if I create something with others in mind - worrying how they'll judge it - then I give them the authority and power to do just that: judge it. If I make it for them, it belongs to them. But if I write just because I LOVE it, and because I MUST write... well then, no one can judge it. It is mine. And my Father's. Because my voice carries His too.

SO.

I am going to share with you two of the free-writes I did this summer. Both are unedited - this is just how they came. And both start out a little waffley because that was just how I had to begin, before I could reign in my brain! And before I throw in any more discaimers:

FEAR

Exigencies. The word on my mind since I read it in Brennan Manning’s “The Rabbi’s Heartbeat” (which I inevitably end up calling the RABBIT’S heartbeat...). Exigency. The deep urge, the profound necessity, the pressing requirement. Do I feel the exigencies of writing? Yes, yes I do. As I type this, I feel the knot tightening in my stomach. It twists my insides uncomfortably, and I feel my palms getting sweaty as the silent but deafening roar erupts from my deepest places.  And it is no longer a cry of “Can I write?”, but the overwhelming demand: “I MUST write.” But this cry goes against everything I naturally feel – it goes against every fear that enshrouds my mind and heart – it is a cry placed in me by a much bigger Voice than my own, and called out of me by a Love stronger than fear and indeed death itself. And yet the fears wrap around my voice and render it hazy, lost in the mists of uncertainty and insecurity. I have heard it said that you have only to walk through the veil of fear to discover that it is just that – a veil. But that veil appears all too solid, all too impenetrable at times. I fear getting lost in those mists, not finding my way out into the light. I have been lost in those mists before. 

There is however a question that I find myself coming up against. It appears as an ominous edifice in the midst of the swirling shroud, but it is also the solid point I can push my back up against, so that I can turn and face the mist with greater courage. That question, lurking solidly in the shadows, is: “Do I really have something worth saying? Is my Voice worth being heard?” If I answer “No”, I fling myself back into the marshlands of dead voices, the utter waste of the silence of death. But if I can find it in myself to stammer out “Yes”, even to only half-heartedly fling that one word of shining hope out into the haze, it takes on a strength and bigness of its own, it agrees with the heaven that is found beyond this earthly miasma, and it becomes for me a beacon, a flare, Florence’s lamp which guides me out of the rank doubt of my human mind’s sickness. 

And all the while, the exigencies of writing press down on me. But perhaps it is not, as I have viewed it before, a crushing, overwhelming, perplexing weight. It is rather a yoking to the task at hand. The Good Master has placed His good and easy and LIGHT yoke on my shoulders. It keeps me ploughing at the correct furrows, moving in the right direction. That weight keeps me safe, keeps me centred, keeps me moving. It keeps me.

MY VOICE

“Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star...” 

e.e. cummings

What is the opposite of fear? I refuse to believe that love is the opposite of fear – love is far greater than just a not-something. But perfect love does cast out all fear, because to be perfectly loved is to be perfectly known and to understand that value doesn’t lie in performance or doing, but in being. So what IS the opposite of fear? Un-fear? When fear is removed from me, what is given in its place – what fills the void that it leaves behind? Or is fear not really something that has filled me, but something that has oppressed me, weighed down upon me? When I feel fear leaving, perhaps it is not draining out of a deep pit within me, leaving me empty. It is instead being unwrapped from me, its tight coils released from their death-grip around my throat and chest. I breathe again, and I discover fullness, I discover who I really am under the mask that once enclosed me.

And underneath the confusion that fear brought me? Peace. That full, nothing-missing, nothing-broken peace. Nothing is wrong, nothing needs to be fixed, nothing needs to be done, nothing needs to be proven or won. I am at peace. “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land...”  I rest in the full sunlight of being a daughter, being loved as I am, as I was created, as I have always been known. And my voice begins to rise up in me, without me even trying. Like a satisfied kitten oblivious to the purring rumbling in its own chest, I bask in the delight of my Papa, and my voice hums out of me. 

I have always known my voice is strong. I know well the weight of the sword, the ringing of battle armour, the speaking of light into dark places. I know what it is to lead battle charges and cripple armies. But I didn’t understand the handing over of my weapons to hands far stronger than my own. Silly really, when they were the same hands that first gave them to me. I have feared the cage of irrelevancy, of inactivity, of silence. A cage? No, indeed, a CAVE. He wooed me into a cave where I could be hidden from the battle raging round. I mistook His rest for His silencing. But I gave in to his taming of me. I have handed myself over, I volunteered. And in rest and quiet and in the secret cleft of the rock, my voice has been growing. It has been growing and growing. It is expansive. It is wide.  My voice has grown into His voice, His into mine. My voice like the morning glory vine entwined around His. My voice grafted into the voice that makes Lebanon skip like a calf, that thunders upon the waters, that breaks the cedars like twigs. My voice. My voice. My voice carries light and life and the fullness of the created, the un-created, the waiting-to-be-spoken forth. My voice. My voice. Creation is waiting for my voice. My hand in his, my sword in our hand. Standing still, the breeze on my face, the sun warming the top of my head. We raise our sword...

She's alive! And blogging again!

It is almost impossible to sum up the last few months. Since I last posted anything (MARCH?!), we finished the building of our AMAZING new extension here at A Place For the Heart. What we now call the "farm house" has tripled in size. This of course came in very handy over June and July... we had thirty students attending this year's 18 Inch Journey (see here for more details). The students came from over 5 countries (including my beloved friend Asanda from South Africa, woot), and 12 states within the US. It was such a delight getting to meet and fall in love with every single one of them... and see how intentionally the Father had planned an individual 18 Inch Journey for each of them. That journey (the 18 inches from head to heart) is the most important journey we could ever make - and the one we have to keep on making.

The opening dinner of the 18 Inch Journey 2012

Preparing for the school was SO much fun. We got to pray for and prepare a space in our hearts for each of the 30 students. We spent time writing prophetic words in their journals, making gifts for them, planning surprises. We felt like the Father was showing us who each of them were, before we'd even clapped eyes on them. So when the moment came for that first glorious evening, the welcome dinner, we got to put faces to the 30 who had already stolen our hearts :o)

Throughout the school I was reminded again and again just how lucky I am to be a part of this community and family; surrounded by such ridiculously amazing people, and lead by such fantastic leaders. Jonathan and Melissa truly lead like Jesus led. I feel so safe with them, because I know that they hear the Father's voice so clearly, and are such good friends of Holy Spirit. It was an honour to be on staff for the school with this community that I love so deeply - and who have all loved me so well. Being trusted with and given the opportunity to lead again was really good for my heart. I think one of the things I've struggled with the most over this internship was stepping out of ministry and leadership, and into a space where I was being poured into again. Although it was something my heart had been longing for for a long while, I found that when it came time for me to "lay down my sword" and step off the battlefield... well, I wasn't so sure how to do that! I felt like the sword was grafted to my hand through use. Who was I without it? Would I really be safe if I laid it down? It came down to a process of daily making the decision to lay it down. I found that sometimes I picked it up again without even noticing! So every day I had to choose to let go; choose to be teachable; choose to allow myself to be poured into without worrying what I could give back; choose to let myself be loved without trying to prove I was worthy of it.

The beautiful people that I get to live with! And with whom I had the privilege of staffing the 18 Inch Journey 2012

So when the time came to step back into leadership for the school... well, I felt a little unsure. Would I slip straight back into my default-switch approach of "shutting down to cope? Or my fail-safe "just getting on with it"? Or would I pick up my sword and find that it had grown rusty and impossible to wield through disuse? About a week before the school began, Melissa and I had a brief chat about it, and in her beautiful straight-to-the-point way, she began speaking over me: "It's ok to love ministry. It's ok to love what makes you feel alive. It's ok to love this family and this land..." So I stepped into the season of leadership for the school not really knowing what it would be like, but more confident that what the Father had done in my heart during a season of being off the battlefield would really show through...And guess what? It did.I remembered again that I really DO love ministry. I LOVE partnering with Holy Spirit (my old friend) in seeing people’s lives change. It is something that makes my heart come alive. It is not what I am defined by – I am defined by my Father’s view of me alone – but it IS something I love. And that sword? Well, I found that when I picked it up, it was not nearly as heavy as I remembered it to be. I had grown during the time I had lain it down – it is lighter now because He has made me stronger, and I no longer try to wield it alone. I am changed. He has changed me.

The dreamy beach house we stayed in for our staff holiday!

After the school, we took a wonderful farm family holiday at Atlantic Beach, and we’ve just had another week of holiday where most of the family has gone home to visit their families. I’ve stayed at the farm this week (South Africa being just a *little* far for a quick pop-in!), and have found the quiet and peace of this land deeply restful. And now we are about to transition back into our last few weeks of internship (which ends September 15), which are sure to be GLORIOUS and delightful :o) It just keeps getting better and better. I am so looking forward to having all the family around again, and digging back into our usual weekly rhythms.

And after the internship? Well... not completely sure, though there are options in the pipeline. Stay tuned :o)

P.S. Our grape vine (which I wrote about in my last post) is GOING FOR IT, growing like nobody's business. Who knew that all that pruning would lead to so much growth... Touché, God!

OK. So. New blog post. Here it is...

And yet I don’t really know what to say! I haven’t posted for a while, because I vacillate between days when I feel like SO MUCH has happened (where do I begin trying to sum it up?) and days when it feels like not much has happened at all (and what would I fill an entire blog post with?). I think the middle point between these two extremes is realising that although so much has happened, most of it is happening in deep internal process. I know that SO much is happening in me at a heart level, and my head hasn’t quite caught up with my heart yet. Which I think is a good thing for now... Sometimes our heads get in the way.

GLIMPSES OF THE DAY-TO-DAY...

In the last few weeks we have:

·         Built, painted, cleaned and organised the top floor of the barn, which was the art room, but is now divided into both an art space and a room for Jake and Joel.

·         Cleaned out a shed that is going to be the new art-space over the summer.

·         Bashed down a wall (and parts of the ceiling of the once-car-port) in preparation for our exciting building project/expansion, happening soon.

·         Pruned the grape-vine (Sydnee and I), and were overwhelmed by new insight on what it was that Jesus was talking about when he called himself the branch and us the branches. And oh man, the amount of stuff that gets cut off! You wouldn’t believe it uness you saw it yourself. I was convinced we were destroying the poor thing! We cut off every branch that was not the main branch, and it looks rather forlorn now. But Papa Ken assures us that cutting off all these excess branches means that all the vine’s resources are kept in the main vine, so that all of that good stuff is available for the production of fruit. Isn’t that amazing?! We get so caught up with all the branches of our lives, and we’re horrified when He tries to prune us! But it’s so good... it really will make us so much more fruitful, even if we feel very bare in the interim. I was reminded about what Kamran Yaraei told us this summer: that God never adds to us, He only unlocks what is already there, and removes what is unnecessary. And it is only really painful for us if we cling desperately to what we should just let go of...

Top left: before pruning. Top right: after pruning (neither of these are actually our grapevine! I forgot to take before and after pics!). Bottom: our grapevine, waiting patiently in the snow.

·         Done large amounts of gardening – digging, tilling, planting seeds in preparation for Spring, moving plants around.

·         Taken up water-colour lessons with Papa Ken. He is an incredible artist, and is patiently teaching us what he has learnt over his years of experimenting with the medium. He is teaching us that an artist is someone who is sensitive and aware, and who is able to express emotion in order to communicate with other people. My highlight: he tells us that good art is all about contrast – contrast is what enables us to see. Think of this – the contrast of the kingdom of God lived out in the midst of this world is what enables us to see. Oooh.

·         Started sharing and recording some of our songs and music ideas. We’ve worked the most so far on an AMAZING, happy-making song by Camryn. He heard about a song entitled “God keeps a record”, and instead of thinking about a grim-faced God keeping a list of our sins (or anything like that) his first thought was that God keeps a record on His turntable – and the chorus says, “I hope it’s me, I hope it’s me, I hope it’s me He’s dancing to!” :o) I wish you all could hear it... soon and very soon :o)

·         Visited the BEAUTEOUS Apple Hill Lodge in Moravian falls, where we rested and made space to meet with the Lord. I especially loved going for beautiful walks whilst listening to the new CD “On the Shores” full blast! One particularly windy walk became a God-time moment when a gust of wind surrounded me as I was listening to Jonathan’s lyrics: “I can hear a love song all around me when the wind blows. I can hear Your voice speak, it surrounds me when the leaves move. I’m just dust without Your breath. I’m just clay without Your kiss. I’m just skin and bones without Your wind in my lungs...”

·         Hung out a bit more with various members of our incredible staff, and learnt so much from each of them. We’ve also met with Matt Peterson (pastor of Awake, the church we go to in Winston-Salem), and Stephen Roach – with whom we’re diving into “The Wizard of Oz”, and allowing our imaginations to run riot. It constantly astounds me how much of God’s truth is waiting in sneaky places to pounce on you... in children’s books especially, I find!

·         Learnt to drive on the wrong (right-hand-side) of the road, with the gears on the right, and my poor left hand hitting the driver’s door every time I forget that fact and try to find the gears there...

·         Started reading through Madeleine L’Engle’s “Walking on Water” as interns, and Ann Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts” on our girls’ nights. Both of these are EXCELLENT, I highly recommend that you lay your hands on them... and don’t be put off by the covers (“One Thousand Gifts” especially. The kind of cover I wouldn’t want to go near, generally. But whip the dust-jacket off, and you’re golden).

·         Travelled to various churches for worship times. Us interns man the CD tables before and after these services, and this has gotten manic at times – especially with the excitement of the new CD. But this is also a really great opportunity to meet many lovely people :o) Worshipping with the family is always one of my absolute highlights. And I love that we pile into the van afterwards, and chat about what we loved as we head back home to our safe haven. This family places great value on the fact that we live our lives here, together as family, and after times of ministry we retreat into family again. This is where we long to know and be known, not up on a stage.

·         Learnt some new photography skills with David. So far we have experimented more with our Holgas, and have developed film and made prints from that. We have also started taking some photos with some far better quality photos (35mm too, not the 40mm Holga film), and will be making prints from those next week. I’m loving getting to do this stuff hands-on in our little dark-room!

·         Watched large amounts of Downton Abbey with Molly. This is now absolutely one of my favourite BBC period dramas. You need to see it if you haven’t yet!

·         Celebrated birthdays – Melissa’s with a beautiful candlelit dinner, and many words of appreciation over her. Cadence, Joshua and Camryn’s with a massive screen set up in the woods for playing Wii Mario Kart etc. Melissa’s birthday evening was the first (and only!) time it’s snowed here this winter. I am told this is very unusual! The snow made for a VERY happy and excited evening :o)

·         Pulled of an EXCEPTIONAL CD release! Of course, this has been one of the major highlights of the last few weeks. It was one of the most overwhelming and exciting nights I’ve ever had. The privilege of being joined to a family like this is that you get to partake in the inheritance of that family. Which means that even though us interns haven’t been around for the many years of sowing and hard work and sweat and toil and living and persevering and fighting and dreaming with Heaven that went into the CD... we got to experience the joy of it coming into being and being released to bless other people. We sang our hearts out, danced madly and rejoiced deeply because we felt the rich joy of the moment – we felt the weight and the privilege of God allowing His glory to shine out of our family. We got unique perspectives on the evening too... getting to be out in the lobby when the first wave of excited people arrived. Joining in the choir/gang vocals on some songs, to sing with everything in us! Getting to worship back-stage, with our family just metres away on stage, and the excitement and expectation of the crowd rolling in to us like waves. The evening started with Stephen Roach and some friends making some BEAUTIFUL music, and already ushering the crowd into worship... man, people were eager! And then John Mark McMillan came on with a small band, further opening up the way. Towards the end of his set, he started singing a line from Jonathan’s song “I’ve Seen I Am”, and you could feel honour and the Spirit rush into the room. One by one members of our family ended up joining him on stage, rounding out his skeleton band, and raising the roof with praise. It seemed like every one of us sang with all there was in us: “Open up you doors, you everlasting doors! Open up you gates, be lifted!” What an extraordinary way to begin the evening! This meant that right even before our family started to worship, people’s hearts were open and ready and willing. And oh my, did the Lord respond!

So that’s my attempt at a summary of the stuff we’ve DONE. But that doesn’t seem to even begin to cover what’s been going on INSIDE of me! The more I read of the Wizard of Oz, the more I feel like Dorothy, blown out of Kansas and finding herself in a new and remarkable land. But I also feel like the Cowardly Lion, who has tried to run out of the poppy field, but has been overwhelmed by the sweet fragrance, and put to sleep. How long have I been asleep amongst the poppies? How long will it take the sweet fresh breeze to fully revive me? There’s been a lot of adjusting to be done! for starters, it’s pretty WEIRD to be in a space where I don’t really have any leadership responsibilities! It’s been so many years of living in that space, that I’m having to relearn how to just be. Weird, but SO good. I think I’ve also been wrestling with: “what happens after August?!” It’s such a blank (and therefore intimidating) canvas. But I don’t want to be swallowed up with the ‘what-ifs’ when there’s so much that God is speaking in the present. And especially when I know that He is good, and that whatever happens after August will be good too, because He has said it is so. Lyrics to a new song of Jonny’s have been rocking my world lately.  

The chorus says (God speaking!): “I want these dreams even more than you. Faith is believing that I do.” I’m finding that this is a time for me to dream with God again – to allow Him to scrap my meagre ideas and wannabe plans, and remind me of things I once dreamt, and also breath new and wild dreams into me. Because the deepest desires of my heart are not things I have to hesitantly and pleadingly beg Him for. I don’t need to fear that they’ll never happen, or that they’ll be less than everything He’s promised... because as much as I’m keen to see and walk in those things, He is even more so! He placed them in me in the first place, and I choose to believe that He’s more excited and expectant than I am! We got to hear Heidi Baker a few nights back, and she spoke about Mary, who carried the promise of God to full term, not miscarrying it, or aborting it because it was inconvenient. Madeleine L’Engle talks about this too, in “Walking on Water” – the importance of saying “Yes Lord” to the overshadowing and favour of the Lord. L’Engle quotes Aristotle, who says, “that which is probable and impossible is better than that which is possible and improbable”.

I hear the Lord saying to me, “How far can you think? How big can you dream? How deep can you press into my heart for you? How much will you dare to ask me for?”

The first week...

Warning... this is going to be looooooong. Eeep.

15 - 21 January 2012

The official beginning to our internship. It was SO wonderful seeing the other interns arrive today. We were called into the dining room for an unbelievable supper and evening. The table was laid with beautiful green and white tablecloths, green glass-ware, stunning plates and cutlery, candles. Everything was laid out so beautifully, and with such love – which of course always makes things even more special. Jonathan started the evening off by reading a passage from the third book in the Chronicles of Narnia: ‘Prince Caspian’. The four brothers and sisters (2 girls, 2 guys, just like us, oddly enough!) return to Narnia, but they don’t recognise it straight away. And then they begin to discover it is the place they used to know, and the walk about finding old swords, and jewels: familiar things. He spoke about how this is going to be our time of remembering – of remembering that we are royal, of remembering that we were created to be in relationship with God like Adam and Eve were – walking together in the cool of the day. Throughout the evening we were served, loved and welcomed into the community.  So many overwhelming words were spoken over us; our hearts were encouraged and made safe – secure in the knowledge that we have been awaited here, and that we have nothing to prove, no reason to perform. We were given so many gifts! A set of watercolour paints, paper and paintbrushes from Papa Ken (who’s going to give us some watercolour lessons, what a privilege!) and Ms Linda. A beautiful box each (to store some treasures in from our time here), with a note inside, and a ‘stone of remembrance’ from Justina and Jake. A collection of books and journals from Chris. A special individual present for each of us (Holy Spirit inspired!) from Molly (I got a beautiful antique key!). SO overwhelmed with gratitude and joy! We ended the evening with a really special, sweet time of prayer. We are HOME. Whoohooooooooo :o)

“Ella... lovely daughter of God, queen of heaven. No one knows the risk you took to walk into this season, except the one who has whispered your name and called you to come closer than you have ever been. You are in a secure and sheltered place for your heart to take flight.

Be filled with joy indescribable, He has planned every moment of this season. You are ready.

We love you deep...

Johnny and Mel”

To try keep this short, here are some of the highlights of the rest of the week...

16 January 2012

We started Monday with an intro to the schedule we’re going to more-or-less follow over the internship. It’s helpful to have that basic guide, so we get into the rhythm of life here more quickly. Routine (when it’s not rigid and forced) is such a good thing :o) We got given ANOTHER present today... a Holga camera for each of us from David. We’re going to be learning lots about photography from him. David is an AMAZING photographer, and it’s such a privilege to be able to learn from him. We’ve even had a new darkroom set aside on the farm just for these adventures in photography. I love what the Holga box has to say:

“A Holga camera is a study in imperfection, and to use it is an exercise in breaking free from dependence on technology, precision and uber-sharpness. The slight softness of the images, uncontrollable vignetting and peculiar light leaks create a partnership between you and your Holga. These “flaws”, accompanied by your creative choices, result in a quasi-serendipitous form of art. A Holga stretches out visual perception. Using a Holga adds another facet to the way we see the world. We notice more things, and thus we examine and evaluate their status. A Holga is an educator teaching us a new visual vocabulary with which to describe our world. A Holga is a rule-breaker. To use a Holga is to utterly change the terms of reference most people use to interpret photography.”

We went for a walk to begin taking some pictures with our new Holgas, and I LOVED the crisp winter air, and the beautiful, stark trees all around us.

Monday nights are my nights to help Martha get supper ready, and I love the time I get to spend with her in the kitchen. Martha is able to make every moment beautifully homey, and it’s so easy to feel at rest in her presence. After a great supper, a few of us went for a drive to a place called Cook-Out for milkshakes – FREEZING idea, but very yummy :o) And a few of us girls ended a lovely day by watching Beauty and the Beast together in our cute upstairs lounge area.

17 January 2012

After worship this morning (we worship together for half an hour every morning Monday to Thursday, is that not the most fantastic thing you’ve ever heard?! :o) ), us interns and most of the staff met with Jonny and Mel at their house, and they went over the community values with us. we did a similar run-through at the beginning of the summer school – and I felt now, as I did then, just how good it is to be in the spacious boundaries of the Lord. It reminded me again of Psalm 16:6 – “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places”... The community values and boundaries create such spacious places for us because we know that we’re safe here – our hearts are safe, and no hiding or walling in of them is necessary. Jonathan closed off this time by sharing this idea with us: God and His presence is like the ocean. Think of all the people you see coming down to the beach – you get people sitting on towels, enjoying the sun and the sight of the sea close-by. You get the kids splashing in the shallow waters. The older kids playing a little further out. The body-boarders and surfers, enjoying the power of the sea, the excitement. The paddlers. The fishermen who know the sea so well, and go out every day. The divers, finding new treasures in its depths. Everyone comes to the sea with different needs, and each of them are fulfilled by it. We are all at such different stages, needing such different things from the Lord. But He is more than able to be exactly what every one of us needs. Jonathan asked us to think about what it is the Lord was wanting to be for us in this season, or what He was wanting to show us. We shared them with each other... the first three words that popped up for me were: “adventure”, “deeper” and “lover”. When I thought about each of these more later, and pulled them apart together, I discovered that for me in this season, the essence of each of these is “dependence”. I think Father is going to be teaching me all about letting go, letting Him have His way, letting Him direct my course. Completely. New for me! That’s scary. But SO good!

After lunch we had what I am sure will become one of my favourite times of the week – music with Molly :o) We did some more of what we started over the summer – some “active listening” to pieces of music: spending time listening to fantastic compositions, and allowing our minds to paint pictures, scenes, colours and feelings for us. When we share what we’ve been thinking, it always amazes me how many similarities will come out, from such a diverse group of people. The extraordinary power of music!

I had my first experience of Costco  today, with Martha and Sydnee. Oh my goodness. I thought Walmart was large. It has nothing on this. For South Africans: imagine combining Game, Incredible Connection, Checkers Hypermarket, Dischem, Mr Price AND Mr Price Home... and then feeding it steroids. Literally. It’s a ENORMOUS warehouse affair, with almost everything coming in bulk only. Overwhelming. Glad nie my gunstelling plek op die aarde nie!

Anyhoo, after that interesting experience, I was rather relieved to return to the peace of the farm for supper, and then partake in the unparalleled JOY that is farm family night :o) This happens every Tuesday night, and includes all of us living on the farm, and then those who are part of this family, but who live a little further away. Jonathan explained to us newbies that every Tuesday, there will be worship, communion, and a word shared... but every week different people sign up to do each of those things, so the weight of seeking the Father’s heart for this community is always shared by us all. Tonight Jake and Justina led worship together, and Martha brought communion. I’m going to LOVE Tuesday nights. I love how responsive this community is to the Hoy Spirit, and how ready they (we :o) ) are to adventure together into His beautiful presence.

18 January 2012

This morning after breakfast, worship (8:30 – 9) and God time (9 – 10), we four interns had the privilege of hanging out with Papa Ken in what he’s been told should be called his “man cave” :o)  With some good coffee in hand, we settled in to drink from the well he has been cultivating so faithfully for so long. I am always reminded that we are lucky enough to be interns here in this beautiful place because of the dream that was in his heart, and the sacrifices he and his lovely wife Linda have made to see it come to be. They are off to Norway soon, to speak at a YWAM base there – and we are praying that God does extraordinary things through them :o) We got to hear an extraordinary story from one of Papa Ken’s friends about a time when he was obedient to the voice of the Lord, even though the request seemed like an odd one... and the fruit of his obedience was so wonderful. I am challenged again to be more reliant on the Hoy Spirit, more readily directed by the Father.

Since it was Wednesday today, this afternoon was “project day” with Jake... which today meant that we helped paint the ceilings and walls of the new building project that is happening upstairs in the barn, where the art-room used to be. I love that we get to really ‘own’ this place; we get to look after it and love it and pour ourselves into it for the time that we’re here. It really IS home :o)

19 January 2012

This morning’s impartation time was with David. We spoke about how good it is to ask God questions, and wait on Him for answers. It made me think of Proverbs 26:2 – “It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings.” We watched a FASCINTING dvd about the star of Bethlehem... a man who was just a lawyer (not an astronomer!) was fascinated by what had actually happened when that star appear – could it be scientifically explained? And it turns out it REALLY can! In fact, this guy managed to prove that God had written a poetic masterpiece in the skies, that spanned from when Gabriel met with Mary, to after the crucifixion of Jesus! Whoa. From a simple question can come a profound answer :o)

I’m going to love Thursday lunch times, because I get to have one-on-one time with Molly every Thursday. What a TREAT! Had a beautiful time with her today – so encouraging, so good for the heart :o) We spoke a bit more about the letting-go-and-letting-God thing: about how tough it is, but how GOOD when we can breathe deeply, and relax into His grace for us, and His direction. PHEW. And yay!

After the Thursday cleaning-the-farm family duties, and supper together, the girls headed out to MK’s house (beautiful wife of the afore-mentioned David!) for girls’ night. Yay! This is going to happen every second week, and we’re going to be reading bits of Anne Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts” together. I haven’t started it yet, but have heard a lot of good things about it, so I’m excited to get stuck into that! Those girl times are also going to be amazing for diving into spaces that perhaps we wouldn’t be able to throw ourselves into  if there were guys around. Let’s face it, sometimes it’s just necessary to have girls’ night :o)

20 January 2012

We visited the nearby town Greensboro today (us 4 interns and Chris, our fearless leader). We hung out at Green Bean coffee shop (where I had the most DELICIOUS hot chocolate, yay!) and did a history book entry... we were instructed to create something that represents what the season we’ve come out of (that preceding the 8 months of this internship), as a way of building an altar of remembrance, but then being able to turn the page and start on a fresh sheet.

Whilst in Greensboro, we also stopped at the Carolina Theatre, which is where the CD release of the Helser’s new album is going to be held on 25 February. MUCH EXCITEMENT about that, it is going to be incredible! The venue is so beautiful too! Whoop whoop!

A few of us ended a fun day by visiting Awake church to hear a man called Steve Witt speak on ‘Creativity’. I really loved what he had to say... some highlights: When God sees nothing, when He sees a void or a lack of something, He isn’t disappointed or frustrated or stumped. Because it is out of nothing that God creates. That’s the place with the most potential! God is a God of disruptive innovation – He changes the surroundings. When the ark of the covenant (which housed God’s presence) was moved around between a few Philitine villages, it made an impression! In itself it was passive, but the presence it housed was certainly doing things! In the same way, we house the presence of God – and even when we passively enter spaces, the Presence inside of us should be disrupting the atmosphere around us. Isn’t that so cool?!

21 January 2012

After a good sleep-in (YAY!) we started the day with a drawing lesson from Justina (who taught us over the summer too). It was on shading, and we practiced really giving yourself time to look at an object before you start drawing it. Learning to really SEE :o) We had some great free time for the rest of the day, and then bundled into a van to head out to Concord where Jonny, Mel and the band were leading worship (they had been there that day and the night before too). We were given supper by some kindly ladies, and then prayed together before the service began. Melissa said she felt like the time was going to be like walking in an orchard, and helping yourself to the choice fruits hanging on the low branches: there was so much well-tended garden-space there, and it was going to be easy to pluck the beautiful fruit. When we walked back into the main hall, an artist had set up his easel, and his picture was of a heavy-laden tree, and he had all the fruits of the Spirit written out under it! What can you do in those moments but laugh, and enjoy the crazy wonder of the Father’s goodness in speaking clearly to His children?! :o)

At the end of the worship time, we gathered as a family to hand over the burdens we had carried for that church for that night, and to seal the work He had done. I love this rhythm that our family has! And on the way home we stopped for milkshakes at McDonalds... from the sublime to the ordinary, He’s in it all :o)

So much to learn here, so many ways to grow in... but WHAT an adventure! Thank you Father, my heart is full :o)