The friendly summer raindrops left criss-cross trails down her mom’s sowing room window. It was late December in the mid 1970′s and only a few days before she had to start ‘big’ school. Dad had just finished mowing the lawn before the weather came in. Clad in his ‘huisbroek’ and garden shoes she watched through the misted glass as he pushed the old mower into the shed. She had been with him moments earlier, walking behind the two-stroke to help him complete one more diminishing rectangle, until only the last little patch remained. Sitting here in her favourite place a sense of warmth surrounded her as she recalled the events of the past few weeks. Chasing Christmas beetles at dusk with her little brother, having the family together again, unwrapping the jersey her granny knitted as a surprise gift and the slide projector’s “cha-chuk” as colourful splashes of family memories lit up the livingroom wall. She remembered the still summer night she and her cousins spent sleeping in the tree hideout, the afternoon alone just reading her picture book and then mom’s voice eventually calling her inside for supper. A soft smile accompanied the peace which enveloped her. This was Shalom.
Maybe your early years do not look quite as rosy, but most of us recall some nostalgic moments in which we were carefree, loved, at peace. Simple things held amazement and delight as we wondered at the beautiful story we had fallen into. In the words of Sam Keen, life was a surprise party, planned just for us. My own memories are filled with rich hues of gold, but are also tinged with sadness. This sense of loss is deepened with the acceptance that I’m a grown-up now and that those memories only live on in the treasure trove of those who were there, some no longer with us.
I miss them.
With adulthood comes a systematic labeling and normalising of the things which once left us in awe. A task list substitutes the former grand adventure and trust is so easily ravaged when our dreams meet cold reality. In some lives the days which were once filled with anticipation are now replaced by cynicism and fear, creating a foul-smelling brew as they are simmered together in the cauldron of tragedy and hardship.
But something is stirring. I am starting to believe that our best childhood moments were given to us for reasons deeper than we may suspect. On one level we have had a taste of what the Great Day will be like. Our tears will be gently wiped away, never to return. Pain will be gone. We will love completely, and be loved beyond anything we have known, finally filling the longing which was placed in our hearts by The One. Now we have the ability to only experience relationship with a few, then with all. Now I see dimly, then face to face.
Is it possible that there is deeper value to our cherished experiences? I would like to suggest that there is a second and more immediate promise. In fact, I am convinced of it. We are invited to a new childhood. Not an abandonment of our experience, wisdom and accountability, but a re-kindling of wonder, innocence and trust. The language inviting us is direct and simple messages abound, custom crafted so that we can understand them, but the scholars can’t.
We are told that that there is only one way, being born again, this time a Spiritual birth, not a natural one. The real meaning of this invitation is a world apart from the connotations you may have with the labeled, grown-up view of religion.
In Mark’s account of the little children coming to Jesus (when the disciples tried to keep them away) we read how He took each one in His arms, held them close, loved them, blessed them, and then continued to remind all who were there that, to inherit the Kingdom of Heaven, we had to receive it like a child. In an adjoining passage, when He is asked about our Father, He replies : “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father”. What I do shows His heart.
God holds you like that. He invites you to trust Him like a young child does. To believe that He is good, and that He is enough. He gives you of His Spirit, renewing your innocence, as if you never partook of your former life. In this relationship of trust, wonderment is set to make a grand return. Your 2010 desire for a simplified, less cluttered existence is a clear beacon of what you were actually intended for. Maybe we can marvel at the trees that seem so green again and the sky so blue? Yes, on offer are fresh hearts brimming with the enrapturing beauty of everyday things.
So, this is my prayer for you. I know you are not sitting in your mom’s sowing room, or your dad’s workshop, but may Shalom envelop and enfold you as never before. May you cry Abba! Father!
Glory to Him,
WS
what do you think? please share it with us below!
If you want to buy real estate, you would have to get the credit loans. Furthermore, my father usually takes a commercial loan, which seems to be the most useful.
Keep it coming Werner. Your posts act like a heart defibrillator, waking up the dead!!
Hey Charles. Missed your comment first time round! Thanks man. Look forward to hooking up soon.
Cool Mel, thanks for the encouragement. Appreciate it.
This post resonates very deeply. And clearly with others too. Keep writing.
This is truly lovely, Werner!
I am glad I found your spot.
Thank you Allie – look forward to chatting
Baie dankie Louise. Dis lekker om te lees hoe jy dit ervaar. Ek hoop dat hierdie jaar is vol sulke ondervindinge waar hy ons aanroer. Ek is vasbeslote om meer in die "present:" te lewe, en meer oop te wees vir die baie boodskappies van elke dag. Ek het 'n sekerheid dat Hy baie nader aan ons is as wat ons in elke oomblik van bewus is. Dankie vir die gedagtes.
Wow Werner – ek geniet die warmte in die woorde – is dit nie wonderlik dat die woorde vir jou en my verskillende oomblike vashou nie maar tog die vermoe het om so baie beloftes wakker te maak -ek geniet dit as die Gees van God werk en so diep in ons binneste dinge kom wakker maak wat net Hy van weet wat weg gebere is en die rykdom van dit weer te besoek. Ek stem saam – ons filters as volwassens sny soms die werklikheid so op dat die oomblikke verbygaan van net geniet.
Dankie
Nou toe ek die lees het ek ver gedink, en veral die laaste paar weke het baie van my kindwees gedagtes na my toe teruggekom. Dit het gevoel ek was daar so helder was dit – snaaks, elke keer is dit goeie terugflitse wat my laat voeld het soos 'n kind. Dit het my hart warm gemaak en voel partykeer asof ek daardie tyd oor wil beleef. Dis juis die ding rondom kindwees (dink ek) dat daardie tye so spesiaal was en as ons dit weer oor kan beleef gaan dit net nie dieselfde uitwerking om ons he nie. So om te klou aan kindwees is goed dink ek, want daar is so baie onskuld daarin en so baie vreugde sonder dat ons dit regtig besef het op daardie ouderdom.
Dankie vir jou woorde Werner – altyd lekker om jou great uitkyk te beleef – hou so aan!
Baie dankie vir die comments JD. Waardeer dit. Ek dink daar is 'n hele nuwe dimensie wat ons nog nie ontdek het nie – so vasgevang in die doen van elke dag. Sekere dele van grootmens wees is absoluut nodig, maar ek glo daar is 'n deel van ons wat ons verloor of eerder kies om te onderdruk – almal doen dit mos – so dit lyk net reg so. Miskien het ek te veel Christmas Pudding gehad, maar ek vertrou dat daar meer is aan die storie
Dankie vir jou mooi bydrae!
I love it when I find words that cloth & resonate so precisely my thoughts & feelings – as do some of your words here;
"With adulthood comes a systematic labeling and normalising of the things which once left us in awe".
"trust is so easily ravaged when our dreams meet cold reality. In some lives the days which were once filled with anticipation are now replaced by cynicism and fear".
If there were a nail it has just been hit on the head. I am re-reading Waking the Dead by John Eldridge & it is doing exactly that, re-igniting the child like hope & dreams that there is far more going on here &, more importantly, we are far much more than we have been led to believe. Such words bring such a freshness & awaken a fire to reclaim our hearts & believe we are created for greatness, we are created for glory – His.
I watch little Gracie, at 9 months, marvel at a flower, transfixed. The world is so filled with delights. Despite being such a honey, she has also modeled this message to me. Probably because I'm older now and more in tune than with the first two. You are so right Chris, there is a lot more going on here. I think we knew that as kids, maybe even saw and heard things which have now been filtered out of our existence. There is so much to regain, but it is our inheritance. Thanks for your comments, appreciated!