As I listen to the rain whip against my windowpanes, I am reminded of something that I can't really ignore... I've tried to push it away, but it always comes back to continue knocking on my mind. Just like the incessant knocking of my shutters, the sound is slightly frightening. I don't know what it is; I am afraid to go to see what seems to want so desperately to gain entrance. Whatever it is, I know that with it comes many more unsettling realities.
[.pause.]
I met Naledi’s mother today. After we gave the beanies out she asked me if she could show me her room, and of course I said yes. We scaled the three staircases and walked down a long dark hall. I do not think that the woman inside was expecting anyone other than Naledi. She introduced me to her mother. We first chatted a little bit about the weather (it was especially cold today), then Naledi said she was going back down stairs. At first I was a little surprised, and kind of worried that I wouldn’t know what to say to her mother and then the conversation would end abruptly and I didn’t want to seem rude. But it didn’t happen like that. She asked me what I thought about Cape Town, and I told her that I found it to be a lovely city, and the people, most of the time, very friendly. She nodded at that and said that yes, a lot of the people are very friendly, but the crime rate here is so high. She told me how she looks out her window and sees so much destruction and crime that she just wanted to go away and leave it all behind. She asked if my mother was scared to send me here, I said that my mom was a little worried… but she knows that God’s hand is protecting us, and nothing will happen that is not in his plan.
At this point she smiled and said, “It is so nice to know that He goes before us, behind us, He is above us… but sometimes it is easy to forget… to get worried… but thank you for reminding me…”
On the surface not a ripple,
Undercurrent wages war.
Quiet in the sanctuary,
Sin is crouching at my door
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die?
And how can You be so full of mercy?
You race to meet me and bring me back to life
I wake to find my soul in fragments,
Given to a thousand loves,
But only One will have no rival,
Hangs to heal me, spills His blood...
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die?
And how can You be so full of mercy?
You race to meet me and bring me back to life
Curse-reversing Day of Jesus,
When you finally seize my soul...
Freedom from myself will be the
Sweetest rest I’ve ever known...
How can I be so prone to wander,
So prone to leave You,
So prone to die?
And how can You be so full of mercy?
You race to meet me and bring my back to life
[.chris>>rice.]
It is always a weird feeling to have been holding back for so long--keeping in what your heart was sobbing to let loose over so many uncounted moments--and to finally find the courage to let yourself give form to the words, only spoken by your heart to your mind, only to find, when you look around yourself, there is no one to hear them. They are quickly shoved back to their former hiding place to twist about a little longer. You thought you saw that sweet familiar face, yet have since decided it was only a wistful refection in your own glassy eyes.
Yesterday morning while sitting down to a comfortable breakfast of eggs and toast and I happed to look out our window at the river. I got a sensation similar to one you might get when you are speeding along in a boat, with the rock and sand banks rushing past. During this rainy spell, our river has gone from a somewhat lazy depth that was only at my hips during the deepest times of summer, to a powerful height that would easily cover my head... and I am not exactly short.
I can't help but marvel at the awesome power of millions of gallons of murky water rushing past my comparatively small figure as I just stand and just watch.
Our normally 8-10 foot tall waterfall is completely engulfed in icy power. The stairs leading down the the rocky beach where thirteen people were baptized five months ago are almost nonexistent.
