Self-Esteem

“What I know about myself is worth more than the opinions of fifty million”

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The Uncool Rude 

There is a meme going about on social media. It advises the reader (onlooker?) to be polite even when knowing there won’t ever be a need of the other persons involved.

As a disabled community, we have been subjected to very rude remarks and bad attitudes by some political “leaders” for no reason. Some have even been subjected to ridicule and cyber-bullying.

Such rudeness only serves to reward the instigator with the total disrespect of the affected or even with unpopularity from the site of the public. (Read: voters!)

I think that, especially people in high places, should have a guard in front of the mouth, as the offended could bring them down to the reality of life on the street. Respect those who had put you there in the first place, or ultimately leave in shame.

Keep Praying!

https://wp.me/p7Go68-tq

If you read this story, your heart surely will be touched. It just shows how terrible human leaders can be sometimes but also how faithful God is. Call upon Him in your hour of need and He will deliver you. 

Ima Bakpaka #kaapfrikaans

Ima bakpaka from De Aah

My aantie bakes vetkoek in belhaar

Its daalchies from the Kyp

My ghantang wat die kat ini donke knyp

Ons iet bokkoms want ons bly lus

Virrie varste swemnog lekka vis

Ons ryk hoenervingers in Kanalla Walk

Keep up with the neighbours windgat talk

Die bergie het djou ma mos iepos gestie

Sit by blourook piesvol vie

Dit maak Amuzingberg se beach mos dynserig

By Siepoint is die laaities skynserig

Daar word geskrie en geraaiet en geterg

Daar boe by Houtby en mos by Hangberg

Aanie anner kant vannie darie land 

Iisit iemiezammoejettoe wat so brand

Die Boere wat dan plestoekboellits skiet

ennie kinnes en anties wat piektjurs twiet

Ma gaa iet liewes stikkie vis

Laat daai Kaapsedinge maa met ris

A nieman, kyk hoerie treine brand

Van stokpoort tot innie blerrie strand

Bêre daai metjies my ou

Dis vyftien djaar harrepad vir djou

En pappa wag vir djou…..

Moenie die treine brantie

Onse maakie so in hierie lantie

tel daai brieks op dat ons kan bou

laat madiba se lantjie nog kan hou

spaarie raaiyets en die toi toi vir annerdag

liewer reg al issit net oorlat djy mag

Piece brotha piece

laat ons liewe pelle wies

Real vs Crazy #Christianity 

On the other side of the globe, they are jailed for their love of Christ Jesus. Tortured, pierced, decapitated. They get evicted, with nowhere to go. No shelter against desert sun, wind, cold at night. Nowhere to draw water or get food.

They jubilate because of their love for Jesus, thankful for their salvation from sin, death and hell.  And they think that free Christians in the West think of them all the time, care for them, love them and pray for them.

In the West, Obama point blank ignored them and their plight. He did not intervene when he saw their persecution. Hilary eas going to add to their burden, than God that Trump had won, if only for this reason, nothing more!

What goes on in the free West?

Will I be saved if the Old Man is fighting fit in me, if I feed it prime steak and the best wine? Does PETRA Band not sing a cool tune about “killing the old man” in you.  Is it not Jesus who should be fed instead? How does Hollywood help with that?

Falling asleep to a TV series filled with bad attitudes and fictitional fights. Getting upset about the domestic fights in a fabricated story on a tiny screen at the bedside. Waking up to it, continuing the next day, 5am with the same.

Taking that dark attitude with as the wingman for the day. To lash out at those around you.

No sign of the Holy Spirit, yet Saturdays go into a trance, say “tik tik tik tik tik” in “tongues” and feel spiritually moved. All in the flesh, all for the show, or for self-righteous justification.

Where I live, there is this Christian who does weird things, for a reborn Christian. She refuses to thank the Lord before eating, as she says one doesn’t need to be religious about it. Through Moses, the Lord said we should pray before and after meals, as this would instill in us a sense of gratitude.

In eighteen months, we have eaten most meals together. At two meals, there were no complaints while, at two more meals, compliments to the chef. All other meals are marked by a constant complaint about what is wrong with the food. I may be wrong, but my own idea is that the dining table should never be a place of animosity or confrontation. Conflict tastes bad. It ain’t no spice.

What if she loses her job and end up eating scraps, cannot drive her car but must walk? If walking a kilometre between car and the shop is too much for a healthy person, how would she react to walking with a limp, or crutches, or rolling along in a wheelchair? Would healthy walking then look a tad more attractive? One really can’t but help to wonder.

The Lord has His ways to teach people. 

In traffic, while driving in any way other than legitimate, also switching lanes without indicating, traversing solid lines, closing gaps so that others can’t find their way in from an on-ramp. When she occasionally, maybe once in three months, do give someone a gap, she whines, moans and bitches because the other driver didn’t stoop to grovel in gratitude.

Constantly, the finger points, the tongue lashes. Others are shouted at, as they are monkeys, in her unqualified opinion. Joy had left me long ago, as nobody can remain positive and jubilant in such a holy hell.

Literally as wide as she is tall, she does not attempt to bring her weight under control. There is no self-control but rather indulgences as described in 1 Corinthians 5:9-13. I eat Greek salad for desert but the Greek prefers double thick caramel shakes. And it shows.

Such is the gossip that comes from work, the boss, the colleagues, even the clients suffer under a sharp tongue, in absentia. Just nobody can do right, as only one is perfect and don’t you even think the honour belongs to Jesus. No,sirreee, there is one more pure and perfect than that.

Such is the leadership at church, those who don’t just speak in tongues but make the weirdest sounds. Nothing like the typical glossalia. You have to visit a bovine feedlot to get a better idea.

My Muslim friends and a few animists, Buddhists and a Hindu say they can see that God has blessed my wife and I, how anointed we are. At church, we are told that we are in bondage of spirits by such as described. Guess where I prefer to spend my time and with whom.

If we must fellowship with people of faith, what are our options? Trains I travel on, have luxurious lounges with fully equipped bars and the folks do make use of it. I have my coffee. We have a wonderful time together, make friends, I share about my life with Jesus in a language they understand.

The Rasta in the wheelchair, poor as,a dog, rolls up to me, greet me with a “Yah man!” He goes on to say there is only one Jesus and that I should never worry as Jesus is right next to me, always. “Praise Jesus!”, he says, before taking his wheels down the road.

Raj grows his beard, prays five times a day. He says he wants to grow in his relationship with God, only do His perfect will. The world, he says, must wake up to repentance, to make things right with God, as Jesus wants to return. Not bad for a Muslim, eh?

Someone had this catchy tune called Blurred Lines three, four years ago. A very sexy video along with it, making me drool and blush at the same time. The deeper message is that we have choices, that life is seduction but that doing the right thing also is an alternative. When life throws you blurred lines, choose right.

So I visit the coffee shop. A Lesbian traffic officer, a retired Parliamentarian, a thirsty engineer, a photographer, also a handyman, another photographer, a busker, then also a painter and songwriter, a street preacher, the list of regulars is long. We’ve known each other for over a decade. The waitress’s daughter has a cancer. We all pray, whether we are saintly or not, maybe even speak in alternative tongues the navy could interpret. We care, we share, we laugh together, crying is a community thing. That cancer really bothers us.

Yes, there is love in that coffee house. Maybe true church is in the club, or having a coffee amid sharing yarns, or just where love is needed and received.

No sharp tongue required.

Dogma Deceives

Dogma can be described as follows:

Dogma is a belief or set of beliefs that is accepted by the members of a group without being questioned or doubted.[1] It serves as part of the primary basis of an ideology or belief system, and it cannot be changed or discarded without affecting the very system’s paradigm, or the ideology itself. The term can refer to acceptable opinions of philosophers or philosophical schools, public decrees, religion, or issued decisions of political authorities.”

Jesus said that we must worship in Spirit and in Truth.

Not knowing the truth but following a dogma is like the girl who drank her wine from a bottle, never getting a chance to really taste it.

The early believers were Jews and they were not even called Christians, but just followers of The Way. Some also called them Messianics.  We read in the Acts about their oneness of mind, how they cared and shared, there was peace, harmony and unity.

Then the Word was taken to non-Jews (Gentiles.) In came all sorts of pagan rituals and beliefs, to the extent that Paul warned against this, condemning anyone who deviated from the pure doctrine, to hell.

Guess what are we following today?  The very different gospel Pal had warned about.

I hear that people say “I stand on what the Bible says.”  Careful now.  Which one are you talking about?  There are partial Bibles in some 2,900 languages and full Bibles in almost 600 languages.

And in only one language is the Holy Spirit wrongly called a ghost.

A fundamentalist approach will only serve to make you a believer of dogma, of untested doctrine, instead of well-researched Truth.

I was one, in a previous life, until the Lord freed from from religious varnish, stripped me naked until only ugly me remained.  Then He started teaching me about Him, like He taught Job.

Job went through hell and back. He lost all he had, well, his troubles were indescribable, more than most of us will endure in twenty lifetimes. His lasted a whole 22 verses.

Then came the REAL trouble, from Job Chapter 2.

Most people have little knowledge of the book of Job, which is sad. It is a book that really lays the foundation of true faith, exposing the human heart, our very nature.

Recently, a floating missionary told me that job was a righteous man, without sin yet God tested Him. She cannot be older than maybe 25, I guess she is younger. She did not know what Jesus taught, less did she know what Job’s story was about.  She was a follower of dogma, but decidedly not of knowledge.  I was shocked to see she was going around the globe, from port to port, without knowing what the Jesus she promoted is about, because she does not know what His Word teaches.

I was like that once, when I was a young missionary.  Filled with dogma, but knew little Truth, although I thought I owned it all.

Modern Bibles are mostly translated directly from the original languages, while older, traditional Bibles are mostly based upon intermediate translations called base texts. The translators of the final product were very accurate – in copying tens of thousands of errors made by others.  Then dogma teaches it is inerrant.  Go figure.

The newer, more accurate ones (for various reasons) do not include certain added texts, which really were rather intentional deception by older translators, so as to establish a new dogma to suit their own personal views. Newer translations mostly exclude these additions, which is right.

Now the believers of dogma come and slam the more accurate Bibles, condemning its translators to Hell. Now isn’t this a funny thing to observe? Or strange?

Dogma is what resulted into the Inquisition.

My own forefathers had to leave their centuries-old wealth behind and flee to what is now South Africa, because followers of dogma wanted them dead. I can list endless examples.

Perhaps the zealous followers of such religious dogma hamper their own growth, restrict their own maturity, by blinding themselves from Truth.

Now let us look at Jesus – did He ever preach dogma?  Not once!  Should we not, then, follow His example and that of the first Christians in Jerusalem?  Interestingly, the Roman Catholics and the Protestants have so much similarity in belief, yet both, as well as the Orthodox Church, deviate vastly from The Way.

We are following a different gospel and will draw swords to defend our inherited dogma.

If only we could see Jesus for who He is, as He has been obscured by said dogma. It veils Him, and we as a religion follow that veiled image, instead of the Original Jesus.

Do we need all this dogma?  Give it a thought.

Only for truth seekers, did Jesus really say this?

  • camel through the eye of a needle (rope…)
  • eunuchs doing temple service, compare Deut 23:1
  • forgive them as they don’t know what they’re doing (not in all texts)
  • baptise them in the Name of the Father, of the Son, of the Holy Spirit. How did the apostles baptise?

Research this extensively, see what you come up with.  I have some answers but won’t give it away just now; I’ve given too many clues already.

Get the real taste, don’t drink Life from the bottle! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nikita’s Has A Malignant Tumour #cancer

It was around this time, October, in 2007 that we first met them. The young mother with the two pigtail daughters, aged six and nine, respectively. Give or take a year, but there they were, the shy one and the extrovert. Nikita is the eldest and the introvert while Keisha is the ever-spontaneous extrovert. The two kids soon take to my wife Karen and I. They had an additional set of (grand)parents now.

One day, their daddy left home but never returned. They found him somewhere, dead. He had suffered a massive stroke. The kids were both broken but Nikita never really recovered. Her smile died with her Daddy.

Karen makes custom jewellery by hand and the two kiddies had a fair share over the past eleven years or so. Once, I went and bought specific miracle beads that I very much liked – and so did they. Karen made them earrings and necklaces. We did not have much to give yet we loved giving them what we had available.

The pigtails and skinny legs soon made way for blossoming girls who, in October 2107, are fully grown. The youngest, Keisha, is by far the most mature body wise while Nikita is a twiggy little thingy that I could fit into my shirt pocket. Intelligent, a keen observer and a silent achiever who had passed Matric in 2016 with good grades. We really love these two kids as if they were our own.

A medallion-like growth appeared on her abdomen about a year ago and it had taken her six months to even get an appointment with a surgeon. As they are poor, they have to do with State medical services that sometimes is just a cut above basic. About two weeks ago, the surgeon wanted to remove the blob and found that it sat deep – he took a biopsy and sent it away. Yesterday, October 11, 2017, the results came: she has a malignant growth that already has spread deep.

Surgery is scheduled for Monday, October 15, 2017. The surgeon is already worried about the growth’s spread but will try to clean it all out.

The mother earns a tiny income and the family lives in Hanover Park, a poor suburb in Cape Town. They rent a small dwelling from a landlord. Keisha is still at school and I sometimes wonder if these people even have food on the table, do they sleep warm? We have no car ourselves (I was semi-crippled for 22 years but can now walk again, but lost my job at age 37, I am 55 now) and I cannot visit to check up on them. We are friends with her employer, an elderly gentleman who is soon to retire as he is aged 79 already. Nikita cannot find a job as unemployment in South Africa is rife; the unofficial rate most likely is over 60%.

As from Monday, there may be loss of income as the mother will need to be at the hospital and also to care for Keisha who is still at school and cannot be left alone at home in a suburb know for gangster crimes. A conundrum. There will need to be money for meals at the hospital, for transportation, all of the sudden there is additional expenses and a likelihood of less income.

Friends offered help and, with the mother’s permission, I am now posting this here. A few thoughts:

  • If, for instance, a private surgeon can adopt her case on a charitable basis, this may help
  • Gift of the Givers?
  • If a restaurant can stage a breakfast or dinner to raise funds? We as a group of influencers can do the online marketing.
  • Hotel sponsor accommodation as prizes, say a 2-night stay in a quiet period, to be put into a draw against donations? We will surely give much media coverage.
  • Shops can offer gifts as prices for the draw, maybe the draw be done at the breakfast
  • Please be creative here, come up with ideas, let us create a home, a future, a life for Nikita and her mother and sister.
  • Prayer support, anyone who can help with transport, data bundles for WhatsApp connectivity, etc.

We will gladly introduce you to the family upon arrangement right here in Cape Town. We know that con artists abound and we need to ensure that the authenticity is proven to you. It is me and Karen who have known them since 2007, not you who read here. You still need to see what we already know, we understand that.

Please be creative, see how well we can come to the aid of this young family who had already endured so much loss and hardship.

Come on, let’s rase them up!