Cold Cold

Define: Cold

/kōld/

Adjective

Of a relatively low temperature when compared to the human body

Adverb

Completely; totally

There is much to be said for the cold. I think that the first thing that comes to mind when I think of coldness is 

beauty. Stunning snow capped mountain range vistas, delicately formed snow flakes and white gilded leaves.

Winter is an amazing season, I have fond childhood memories of going for walks all wrapped up like the

michelin man. The crunch of frozen ground under foot. That feeling of crisp cool air against your cheeks and

the satisfaction that I still get of being able to see your own steamy breath reminding you that you are still

warm on the inside.

However there is another very prominent association with the cold. Death. Those white gilded leaves are not

on trees, they are on the floor. The reason I am able to enjoy walks in the cold is because I know that it will

be followed by a warm house and probably tea. If that was not the case then a definite sense of fear would

accompany the cold bite of Winter knowing that before long the cold begins to hurt and if left untreated is

irreversible.

Cold has also long been aptly used to describe our spirituality and emotions. There are many parallels; the

brittle nature of things that are cold, numbness or lifelessness, close associations with darkness and of course

pain. 

The difference in the parallel is that we don't always know where home is. This kind of cold is internal, we

can't just run away from it because we are it. We start to dislike our reflection and muffle the sound of warm

words.

And before you know it you are cold cold. Absolutely, completely, totally cold. Dead. Like a leaf on the floor.

 If you are reading this and you are cold cold then know this, Winter is a season, that's good news. And just

like the seasons you are not in control, no matter how you strive they will last as long as they do.

Fortunately there is one who does control the seasons and he knows you. You might not know him yet but

he is inviting you into the warm to have a cup of tea with him. The choice is yours.

Title font used: 'Freezer'

Autumn

I know I am little late in letting you know that it is Autumn but it took this long for the first Autumnal leaf that I picked up to dry out sufficiently enough for me to take a picture of it in the way I wanted to.
I think that visually Autumn is my favourite season, the rain and coldness are not particularly welcome but they become a triviality when compared to the stunning sights of Autumn leaves caught in early evening sunsets.

This has been one of the themes of my last season, even though we can be surrounded by death and face the fiercest of storms God will in those moments afford us the perspective to step back and see him and when we do all else fades into pale insignificance.

Title font used 'Autumn'

Recently

Yep It has been a long old while since I last posted here though this is quite telling of the last couple of months of my life! So Since my last post I arrived back in rainy England, went to Newday - a national youth event run by Newfrontiers, visited the Netherlands, applied to and began my degree at Redcliffe college studying Applied theology in cross cultural contexts.

It has been a forest of new experiences, sharp learning curves, ups, downs and lots of busyness throughout, until now that is. I am now beginning to settle into my new home. It is quite telling that I am not settled in a place if I haven't found the time to get my camera out. Well as a point of settling in I went for a walk this week and the camera came with - and now you can join for the highlights of the journey.

Ok, watch this space, there will be more posts to come and they will probably (hopefully) be far more comprehensive than this one :)

Here I am send me

They look back in time

Sealed in a picture, held in a moment forever.

I remember their story, their pain

Knowing I will never see them again.

Impressions left and memories made.

Radical love to them displayed

But for a time so brief and fleeting

What can be changed in a single meeting?

With me not much I am just a Man

But encounter HIM because he can

Change it all in a single instant

Bring new life to a heart despondent

He goes with us wherever we go

Leading us against the flow

And ebb of this culture, this world

We can't stop until they've all been told

They have to hear it so who will go?

These perishing people have to know

Who will stand and shout it out

Spreading this hope all about

This world heading to anguish and torment

Whose hearts are hard, remaining dormant

They long for freedom and second birth

They need to know what they are worth

The price that was paid and the blood that was shed

The thorns that were slammed onto his head

The spear that pierced his aching side

While soldiers gambled to divide

His broken clothing bloodied and torn

And the onlookers jeer and scorn

He breathes his last his live is given

No not taken but freely given

The earth shakes the sky turns black

The sin of the world was on his back

The veil is torn and the dead rise up

He has drunk the abominable cup

He drank it all down to the lease

The centurion drops to his knees

Surely this was the son of God

Who descended from heaven and this earth trod

Why didn't he just set himself free?

Call a legion of angels with a single plea

This is the centre of a bigger picture

You need to look at the whole of scripture

This has always been the plan

To save the world through a single man

After Adam screwed it up

And was unable to take that cup

There was never any other way

It had to conclude on that day

The spotless man completely righteous

He is the only one able to clean us

But it isn't over just wait 3 days

And the son of God will return and raise

Death is beaten, swallowed up

Jesus is stronger than that cup

And then he gives his last command

One final single parting demand

You must tell others about my name

So their salvation they might claim

Do not let this price be paid in vein

Tell this world about my name

Wherever you go I'll be with you

That is the promise that I issue

And wherever you go you must tell

That I've made a way to escape from hell

When people meet you they should see me

And they should know that they can be free

Preach it with your mouth your life your thoughts

This life is not mine I have been bought

So get going now to the ends of the earth

Proclaiming the need for second birth

lift the veil from their eyes

Cause if you don't they will die

Never having known there was only one way

Leading to the father on that final day

What is my response to a task that is bigger than the sea?

Here I am LORD ... Please ... Send me.

Laudium #2

'Please, pray for me. I am addicted to glue, I want to stop and go to rehab but I'm addicted, pray for me!'

She had a glue pot in her hand and her fingers were covered in glue. She stood just below my shoulder height and looked as though she were in her late 40s. She was as thin as a rake and as high as a kite. Her forefinger and thumb were corroded, the skin was black and dead from all the handling of solvents. She was lowly. Let's call her Sally.

We obviously prayed for her with the lady who had called us over in the first place (turns out she was a Christian) Afterwards Sally asked us to come and visit her the following day when she was not high so we arranged a time and took her address.

The following day we discovered that the address was completely wrong and that Sally was fairly well known in the community. The resident at the false address gave us better directions.

Note to self - don't rely on information given by people who are high.

We found her at her place shortly after and she was sober. She was happy to see us and I don't believe she meant to give us an incorrect address. She explained she didn't have any tea so couldn't offer us any but we had bought our own. She got cups from the neighbours as hers were all filled with glue. As she made us tea she explained a bit about her life. She lost her mother at a young age and had a huge amount of hurt in her childhood. She ended up as a prostitute at the age of 17 and from there got hooked on drugs. Later she met her now partner, let's call him Sam. Sam Gave her a house, food, love and drugs. He did not really set her free from prostitution, he just made it exclusive. She explained how he abuses her but she is strong - she fights back. Sam is addicted to Cocaine and he is 49 - a similar age to my own father, a scary thought. Fortunately the drugs usually pacify him more than anything.

After we had been talking with Sally for some time Sam arrived back home. He went straight through the living room where we were talking and into his room. Sally first explained how lucky we were that he did not immediately kick us out and then introduced us and explained what he was doing as he was crushing the cocaine pill into a powder. I sat down next to him and started talking as he smoked. The girls went back into the living room. I sat and talked to him for some 2 hours (we overran the time we were meant to stay quite significantly) he explained that he was a Muslim and believed in the Quran. I questioned about his drug addiction, he knew he was not supposed to be on drugs and that he was meant to be praying 5 times a day but that belief seemingly made no difference at all, his justification was that he was able to hold down a job and afford his drugs and he didn't hurt anyone. I didn't bring up the abuse of his partner.

Sam was quite happy to tell me lots about his beliefs and stories from the Quran. I questioned him on his belief about Jesus. He immediately kicked up a fuss and went on a 20 minute rant about Christians and their beliefs - almost all of which he was mistaken about.

I talked to him about what we actually believe but he was very dismissive and often very rude but I can handle insult if it opens the door for me to share what I know.

The gospel is offensive to some, especially to Muslims when it comes to Jesus being the son of God so I figure if we are unable to receive our fare share of insults how can we expect them to.

Our conversation got quite heated at times (though nothing compared to some of the conversations I have had with my own family about issues that we agree on 99% of the time)  I later realised that Sally had started crying when she heard him shouting because she was afraid of what he would do to me. In the end though he actually invited us back on Friday for dinner - no small deal when it is straight from his pocket and he is not exactly wealthy, Cocaine is pretty expensive.

In the time that I had been talking to Sam one of Sallys friends had popped in and the 2 girls who I was with talked with her as well. Let's call her Kate. Kate is a Cocaine addict and professes to be a Christian, she is not in as deep as the other two - she holds down a job and doesn't need to smoke every day but she is still trapped.

That Friday during the day one of our team members met Sally in the street. She was covered in glue and was very high - she explained that they had no electricity in the house and that we could not come. We decided to learn from the first lesson and ignore the retraction of the invite - we did not expect to get fed but we needed to show that God loves this lady - especially when she makes mistakes.

We went and on the way to her place we Found Sally in the street sniffing glue. She invited us back to hers - the lights were on and Sam was in and so was Kate. Sam greeted us with a smile but was clearly not happy that we were there. He went to the kitchen to continue smoking and we sat in their room with Kate and Sally. We prayed for them and as we did so they wept, we were tearing up as well but had to remain strong while there. They knew that they had to leave it behind and they want to make God everything - even more than drugs in their life - but it is not an easy decision to make. Sally explained how she was not going to take glue that day but someone on the street had just handed it to her. She was completely sober by this point, we told them that they need to get out. They need to leave this place and these people if they are going to give up their addiction but it is not easy to tell someone that they need to leave the people they love in order to stop taking the drug they are addicted to but they knew that it was true, they knew that what they were doing was killing themselves. Sally said 'I want to follow God but I know when I take drugs I let the devil inside.' They told stories of some of the dreams that they have and it was nothing short of terrifying. We sang some worship songs together that they knew from childhood. When we were done Sally was smiling, 'I feel hope' she said. She had a sparkle in her eye that was not there before.

The next time we saw Sally was the following Tuesday, 4 days later, it was our last day and we wanted to say goodbye and pray with her one last time. She was alone in her house again and sober. We asked how she had been and she explained that after we left on Friday she Sam and Kate had smoked solidly for3 days until Monday afternoon and she now had severe chest pain because of all the glue. We asked her to be honest, not to tell us what we wanted to hear but to tell the truth - was she ready to leave drugs, was she sincere about quitting and following God whole heartedly. There was a local pastor who ran a rehab but he would not take on any patients unless they were very serious and committed to quitting. Her response was heart breaking. She simply said 'I don't know, I am weak' I am glad that she gave an honest answer though. We prayed again with her and asked her to pray. She said I don't know what I would say. We said she needs to tell God everything, all the things that hurt, explain the reason why she started drugs, talk about everything that hurts that she wants God to heal. She prayed and just thanked God that he loves her - that she saw in us. It was strange to see someone so ready to pour out her heart and past and hurt onto complete strangers but unwilling to address that hurt before God. Actually I think we all do that and it is a real battle to take those things before God despite the fact that we  know that he already knows what we would say. There is that knowledge that we have to admit our problems to ourselves before we tell God about them and we know that God won't just sit on that information. He will do something about it. He will begin to heal but that is a sometimes a long and very painful process but it is worth it.

We are all addicts to sin - we need to admit that before God or we will never be free.  Only once we have admitted that can God begin to address the reason that we are addicts and heal us of the sickness that all mankind shares.

Title font used: 'Alhambra'

Laudium #1

I have spent the last 2 weeks in a township called Laudium. Created in the 60s under apartheid for 'non whites'. This results in a very concentrated population of Indians who are now 3rd or 4th generation South Africans yet somehow have maintained their Indian accent and to some extent their culture.

A Minaret

This was a world faiths outreach - the purpose being to gain a greater understanding of the other main world religions. Laudium is around 60% Muslim 30% Hindu and 5% Christian. This outreach put a face on those numbers.

The cleaning area in the Mosque

On the first day we visited a Mosque and a Hindu temple for exposure. It was a very interesting insight into a different world. The Mosque was clearly very well funded and our tour guide was very friendly and allowed us to take pictures. Dream.

The 99 names of Allah

The Hindu temple was quite different - it was dilapidated and the stench of incense was almost overwhelming. The thing that stood out the most though is that the people who ran the temple were more than happy to give 2 completely contradictory answers to the same question asked by 2 different people just 5 minutes apart. In my limited experience this pretty much sums up Hinduism.

The Tamil Hindu temple

For our duration in Laudium we were reaching out into an area called white blocks. It is the poorest area in the town yet is a stone's throw from the houses of millionaires. It was quite surreal everyday to walk past a mansion with a Porsche Cayenne in the drive and 5 minutes later be in someone's house who didn't even have a handle on the door let alone a lock because they have nothing worth stealing.

The prayer price list

Laudium and specifically White Blocks is renowned for being gripped by drugs, any substance you want you can get it there and where there are drugs there is crime. Most of the people we talked to in the 2 weeks made some mention of the murder of a 16 year old boy the previous month in the streets that we were walking on, though the way it was talked about was common place. We visited one house and asked the 18 yr old there whether he felt safe in Laudium. He said 'No' and pointed to the bullet hole in his wall - it was at head height.  He explained how thankful he was that he was not in the house at the time and his plans to leave Laudium as soon as he could.

A Hindu shrine in a house

The police seem powerless to do anything about this, We were talking to one Muslim lady who runs a tuck shop with her husband from their house. We were asking them about how their beliefs affect their lifestyle and how they find living in an area like White blocks. She said that they loved it and would never go anywhere else because they have a strong community. In the hour and a half or so that we were talking I counted at least 5 different people who walked into the courtyard and bought drugs off of the ladies family members. The tuck shop was across the road from the police station.

On another occasion we were talking with some guys by the side of the road about crime, the local area, police etc and a policeman drove past. The man we were talking to flagged him down, he clearly knew the officer. He asked him a question  'A personal question: A good cop is a dead cop. True or false?'

The cop laughed. 'No, no some times in order to catch the criminals you first have to make friends with them.' He smiled and then explained that he really needed to change out of his uniform before talking any more.

Policing will never change the hearts of men, Only Jesus can do that.

Title font used: 'Alhambra'

Pretoria: Conclusion

It was the last day of our inner city outreach in Pretoria and I was ill. A combination of a cold and tiredness knocked me out. I spent most of my day in bed, unconscious. How was it then that this became the best day of the entire outreach for me?

It is my conviction that a single conversation can completely change the course of someone's life. All it would take right now for you to have any range of emotions and reactions is the right person to approach you and simply say the right combination of words. Probably one of the easiest examples would be proposal, there are few conversations as charged with emotion and as integral to life change as that one huge question. (Do you like the way I used an example in which my sum total of experience is precisely 0?)


So as you may have guessed I had a single conversation which completely changed not only my day but my entire view of our 2 week outreach in Pretoria. I had dragged myself out of bed to make a cup of tea (totally worth it) when the guys who had been out doing ministry returned with stories and the excitement that comes with having thrown caution to the wind on the last day of a short term outreach.

It was no longer a surprise to me to hear Tonys name thrown around. He had now become one of the regulars at the coffee house where we were serving and quite a few people had gotten to know him but this occasion was different.

'Did you hear about Tony? Did you hear the news? We gave him a bath and cleaned him up, gave him a shave and Sonia called a home and now he is gone!'

Information overload.

'What!?'

It turns out that on the day when I was barely able to get out of bed Tony was set free. They bathed Tony  (you will know that is no easy task if you have any experience with caring for the disabled.) Gave him a hair cut, shaved his beard and while all that was happening the Coffee house team made some calls to their contacts and found a home for him to stay at. Tony now has a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, his own bathroom and 3 meals a day.

That conversation changed me. I heard it a following 3 times from the different people involved and every time  I was welling up, every time I heard how the event had impacted the individual that was involved, how God had used that opportunity to break pride, grow compassion and solidify hope in people.

A single conversation can change your life, it happened to Tony when some 20 year old kid from the UK and his friend decided to sit down next to him and just talk, it set in course a series of decisions that means that Tony no longer lives on the streets.

But the single most important conversation you, or anyone else can have is the one in which you talk to God for the first time believing that you are not just talking to a wall or a ceiling but to a person who knows you. It is a conversation in which you approach with only one thing to say, just one plea. Jesus Christ - the only one who paid the price so you don't have to. When you believe that for the first time, when it takes root in the core of who you are you change and that change makes Tonys story pale into insignificance and he would agree with me on that point.

There is a reason that we find stories like Tonys so appealing, it's because it is a small picture of the bigger story that we are all involved in even if we don't know it. We are all living life on the streets with no hope until we go to the one who can help and when he helps he does so in abundance.

(I take no credit for any of these photos except the title - obviously it was not me taking them as I was in bed, I did do the edits though :)

Texture#6 Poverty

If there is a sight that instantly conjures the thought 'poverty' in my mind it is this sight. Corrugated iron sheets bent round each other, wrapping their dented and busted 2mm thick hands around a single room, squeezing the life out. They are painted happy colours but the corners peel back where rust sets in, decay eats at the edges of the flimsy walls, dispelling the skin deep veneer. This house is broken, these walls are failing, sagging with age, succumbing to the will of time.

The hot air inside is thick, close and heavy with the smell of old cooking. Holes in the ceiling let through pin beams of light that reveal the dust that sticks to the single bare incandescent bulb, the only source of light, that leaves corners darkened in a permanent vignette, no one sees what hides in the darkness of those corners.

Each shack stands alone, though there are thousands upon thousands each has its own story, its own prisoners. The walls remember different pains the bulbs highlight different atrocities and the memories change them. They cannot hide it, try as they might, the scars of history bleed through from the background if only we take the time to look closely enough to see.

Peeling paint and crumbling mortar, time pushes through the cracks. That which was once strong becomes enfeebled, brittle and bent. This wall remembers that it was once dust and tries to resist its inevitable return but time heads no one. Neglect hangs heavy on its face, each layer is laid bare and its history is an open book to those who care to see. It's former days of strength are all but forgotten a shadow blown away by the winds of time.

But this house is not left to its own end. It does not belong to itself for it was purchased at a price higher than its own value. One stronger and wiser than it is at work within, he is creating a masterpiece, breaking off the old and dilapidated and replacing it with the new. He has a vision that looks beyond the possible and deeper than the skin.

He cries:

 'O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter has done? declares the Lord. Behold, like the clay in the potter's hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.'

the response:

"Let me hear joy and gladness;

let the bones that you have broken rejoice."

Title font: 'Sketch Gothic'

Pretoria #2

I am convinced that it was nothing short of a God send when just as I was leaving the coffee house (the face of our ministry in Pretoria)  that I saw Tony hobbling though the gate with one of my fellow trainees under his shoulder helping him along. It made my week. He had somehow made it! It took me around 30 minutes to walk the distance from where I first met him to get back to the coffee house which is several blocks (I walk quite fast) so it is quite the miracle that he even managed to make it. I greeted him and showed him to a seat - I managed to get a new testament into his hand before I had to leave, his reaction was priceless-

'Glorious God hallelujah!'  

I was very frustrated to only have been able to give him a new testament, this guy knows a chunk of it already and he would actually be able to make use of a full bible.

The following morning I came prepared - I would not have to experience the frustration of wanting to give a whole bible but not have one on me - so as I approached the coffee house again the following morning I was elated to see that Tony had stayed under the stoep that night - I woke him up with a complete bible in my hand. I don't think he has had such an awakening in a long time. He was on the brink of tears - 'It's my food! - My daily bread!' Tony has stuck around at the coffee house since then and I have had the opportunity to begin building a friendship. It will not be fun to leave this city though I know he will be just fine.

In other news on Saturday we hosted a sports day for 30 shelter kids who have been taken off the street - it was good to forge relationships and display love to those who rarely experience it.

We visited a Creche, a prison, a brothel (the girls only), a hospice and walked the streets, telling whoever will listen that there is a hope that they are missing out on.

Creche ministry = clowns ( I personally find them terrifying)

 It has been a pretty intense week topped off by an experience evening on Friday - we had R5 (about 50p) to spend on food for the evening - it was chicken feet time ...

We went to bed on a full stomach (you can eat cheap if you know where to look) and a thin piece of cardboard under the stars. It was an interesting experience to lie on the pavement in a sleeping bag, though on reflection I think the hardest part of being homeless is the loneliness - I was surrounded by my friends and could happily sleep like that for some time but I think it would be a different story entirely if I were by myself. Maybe you should befriend the next homeless person you meet - they are notoriously unreliable, hard to love and most likely will betray you in a heartbeat because that is all they have experienced from other people, but you could change that ... today.

I got the opportunity to preach to the guys before we fed them

Title font 'Louis Ann'