Getting Guidance (Part 2)

 My “try new things” spirit has me embarking on adventures that require me taking the initiative. If I can’t find people who want to go hiking with me, the thought would cross my mind that I could do it alone. It isn’t that I wouldn’t be able to, especially one that I’ve done before, but it just wouldn’t be wise. Although a naturally independent person, I’ve learned through my journey of life that there is safety in numbers.

A few years ago when I was researching Bible customs, I discovered this intriguing fact regarding travel:

“Wherever it is possible to do so men travel in large groups so that they can help each other in case they meet with robbers or wild animals along the way. A guide or someone who knows the way, and especially one who is acquainted with the locations of wells or springs of water or other watering places, is invaluable to the travelers.”1

I believe that what has been considered wise in the natural, is also wise in the spiritual. There are around 59 “One another’s” in the Bible which indicates that God is very much into us not doing this journey alone. My concern for any of us living in this post-modern age is that with the infiltration of social media we are getting a false sense of “togetherness”. It’s also feeding us with a lot of information, but not necessary the truth. Those who don’t have people physically present helping them on their journeys can easily be swayed by what they read over social media. For me, facebook will never and should never become a substitute for face-to-face interactions with real people. I don’t believe this is just a phenomenon with the youth of today, but it is seeping into the older generation. Where we used to make time for the younger generation, we are now spending it on social media platforms. The need for input from encouraging adults has not changed. I would even go as far as to say that the demand is there, but perhaps it’s the supply that isn’t! If ever a generation needed guides to help them navigate life’s trails and trials it is now; guides who will lead them to the truth where truth has become so oblique.

I have been blessed with older men and women who speak into my life. I dread to think where I would be without their words of wisdom, encouragement, suggestions, prayers and faithful support. Like any “do it yourself” kind of person I wasn’t always heeding their suggestions, but years later I see the wisdom in their words, and see how God broadened my horizons because of them. For instance, I’ll never forget my Mum who knew my interest in missions suggesting YWAM as a possibility. I must admit at the time I didn’t take much notice and certainly didn’t go pursuing them. It seems God had them find me at a time in my young life that I was particularly desperate for answers. Now, 20 years later, YWAM has become the environment under which God has released me to express His heart to young people, especially in Africa. I have a spiritual Mum whom I met when living in Zimbabwe. Her daily gift of encouragement over the phone wasn’t always appreciated when I just wanted to get on with my day; but her consistent words of truth would eventually penetrate. Years later, I found myself teaching on the very subjects she would say were lacking in the church today.

When I left Zimbabwe, I would continue receiving her insights, one of which led me to do something I never would have thought of doing. She knew about my relationship with my AIDs orphan son, Gamu. After his Gogo (grandmother) passed away in 2014 she suggested that I write an article about him and submit it to a well-known Christian magazine based in Cape Town. At the time, I shelved the idea underestimating the story’s significance. It was only after Gamu’s passing in April of this year that Holy Spirit reminded me of her suggestion and encouraged me to submit an article as his life and story were worthy of being used to help others. I did this and I am happy to say that, despite thousands of articles being submitted to JOY magazine, it was published. Interesting how my spiritual Mum’s name is Joy. Whether we are from the younger or older generations, let’s be more intentional about getting guidance from those who’ve walked before us!

 Joy and myself

1. Fred H. Wright, Manners & Customs of Bible Lands  (Chicago: Moody Press, 1953), 270.

Getting Guidance (Part 1)

Anyone who has read my previous blogs would know that I am an avid hiker. I live in the perfect city, province, and nation to do so. Before I embark on a hike, I google to find out possible hikes in my area and maps to help me find my way once I’m there. I must admit that despite research and maps it is very easy to lose one’s way. Unfamiliar territory that shares much in common ends up looking the same to the outsider. Even hikes that I’ve done in the past cause me confusion when there are little to no markings along the way to direct one’s steps.

Last year three of us rose to the challenge of doing a two-day overnight hike. After much research I found a remote place a couple of hours from the city and we started our adventure. As it was mostly flat terrain, the best way to navigate our journey was to follow the path carved out by previous hikers’ footsteps. But once we reached the rocky areas there was no path to follow. 

Thankfully, we spotted a pile of stones that we later found out were called “cairns” that hikers had built on top of various rocks along the way to direct future hikers onward. We came to depend on these. Under the gruelling weight of our backpacks and the unrelenting heat of the sun, we wondered how much further to our overnight accommodation. What a welcome relief when we came upon some hikers walking towards us. Hearing that they were coming from where we were going, our first question was how much further to our destination. Their response encouraged us that we were on the right track, but the reality was that it was still further than we expected. With the little energy we had remaining we eventually made it to our accommodation.

I often think about how hiking connects with getting guidance for our journeys in life. What is comforting to me is that God hasn’t left us alone on these journeys. He has definitely given us His Word as a map. That’s why verses like Psalm 119:105, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path,” are so helpful. However, if we are not willing to do the research and get guidance from it, we are bound to get lost. I can fully understand that even when reading the Word it is hard to interpret it and apply it to our day-to-day life. For me, it has been people I may not even know who have left “cairns” that have helped me find my way in very unfamiliar surroundings; people who have done that part of the journey and were mindful of those following after them. That’s why I believe writing journals, books, devotionals, etc. are vital to passing on life lessons that will benefit the next generation of seekers. Then there are those who show up on our path when we most need a word of encouragement to keep us pressing forward and not to give up under the scorching heat of our circumstances. Yes, we still have to make the decision to either turn back or move forward, but it is life-giving to know that others have made it so far and are still alive to tell the tale!

What is Love? (Part 2)

…Alternatively, I could open wide my front door and invite them in for some biscuits and a cool drink. This would demonstrate my desire to get to know them, and hopefully, this would melt their hearts, so they wouldn’t fight anymore. It would also encourage them to trust me, rather than fear me. My dear Child, this is what I did. And now I have a great expectancy in them coming to see me. They can’t wait to come to my house and tell me about their day, and sometimes they even ask me about mine! Surprisingly, they asked me to forgive them for fighting and breaking my rose bush!

You see, Child, love doesn’t try to make a relationship happen, but it opens wide the door for the possibility of one. Love stretches out its arms in a gesture of welcome. From all the letters you’ve sent me over the years, I can see you are learning a lot about love. You used to live loving the law, but now you are living the law of love. Living according to what you thought was right made you judge others according to your standards. You mistakenly believed you were living a higher standard than the ones you were judging. That was the way you controlled them. The letter of the law kills, but love brings life. Love is a verb, not a noun. It is always active, living itself out in practical ways, not wanting to be noticed.

You have met some of my sons and daughters, but you didn’t get a chance to meet them all, because you moved from home at such an early age. I’m sure you remember my eldest son, Josh. I was especially fond of him. I know you weren’t around when it happened, but I remember writing to you a few months later. Although it was many, many years ago, I can remember that day like it was today. I had written several letters to people like you, who live all over the world, and I needed to post them. Josh was home from school and he saw how occupied I was with writing letters, so he asked if he could do anything to help. Instead of stopping and going to post the letters myself, I decided to keep writing and gave him the ones I had already finished to take to the post office. He was happy to do that, and decided since it was such a nice day he would walk.

I was sitting at my desk that looked onto the street, and could see him on the driveway about to cross over. I also saw our next-door neighbour’s child on his bike. He was heading down the driveway too quickly to stop before reaching the road. Josh saw this, too, while noticing a truck coming at a very high speed. Racing towards the child on the bike, Josh threw himself in front of the bike, but was not able to stop the truck from hitting them. I ran outside, only to see my Josh lying lifeless on the pavement, blood splattered everywhere. The child was also lying on the ground whimpering and still alive. I picked up Josh’s dead body in my arms, his blood covering my hands. I gently laid him on the grass and went over to the child. Seeing that no bones were broken, I picked him up with those bloodied hands and gave him to his parents, who had come running out of the house. As I turned around I could see those letters scattered all over the road. I went over and picked them up, one by one, Josh’s blood staining them. I sat down next to Josh’s body, and felt like I had died that day. The truck never stopped and I found out later the driver was drunk.

What’s interesting is that only a few days before, Josh and I were having a conversation about death. A subject most people avoid talking about, due to its uncertainty, but ironically, its great certainty. I had given Josh a scenario about having to die in order to save someone. I asked if he had to make that choice, what would he do? Without any hesitation, he said he would die for that person, trusting he would have the courage to follow through. Then I proposed an even greater challenge, asking if he would die for someone who didn’t deserve it? Again, without hesitation he said he would be willing to die for such a one. He added, and I’ll never forget his words, “Father, when that happens to me, I hope that you would forgive them.”

A few days after Josh’s death, I went to the post office with those blood-stained letters and posted them myself.

You see, my dear Child, the question you need to ask yourself, and I would encourage anyone who wants to know about love, is not what is love? But rather, Who is love? Child, I am LOVE and LOVE is Me!

Love,

Abba Father

(Taken from “The Treasure Within” book by Kathy Gooch; Chapter “God is Love - Love is God”)

What is Love? (Part 1)

The following letter is from someone I’ve known most of my life. He is a personal friend of my family; and although very old, he’s become very dear to me. I can’t remember how old, but he isn’t into emailing and stuff like that. He has what we call a “home help,” and he dictates his letters while she types and posts them to me. I really respect him, and in many ways he’s been like a father and mentor. I ask him questions in the letters I write. He’s always so good about answering them—helping me to understand life. This is what he wrote to me not so long ago, and I thought it worthy of sharing with you.

My Dearest Kathryn,

I was so excited when I received your letter in the post the other day. I love hearing from you and finding out how you are doing. From what you were describing, it sounds like you are facing many challenges that are providing opportunities for growth. I particularly appreciated and was honoured when you asked me a question about the true meaning of love. Now there is a question, that through the centuries, much has been written about, sung about, laughed about, cried about and even fought over! The answer to “What is the true meaning of love?” is like a treasure hidden that only those who have a genuine desire to know will find. As you seem so interested in knowing what LOVE means, I will share with you my thoughts.

Love in its highest and truest form is absolutely selfless, sacrificial, giving and expecting nothing in return. It always prefers, considers, thinks and does for another over and above itself. Love is passionately committed to the well-being of others. It takes no thought for itself. Love reaches out to those who don’t deserve it, and doesn’t wait to be loved back. It keeps giving unconditionally.

So many people confuse love with a feeling, but love is really a choice. For love to be love it needs someone to give itself to. It cannot exist on its own. Love chooses to limit itself in order to foster and nurture a relationship with the one loved. Kathryn, remember how you taught nursery school children? When you played a game with them, you purposefully pretended that you didn’t know how to play, allowing them to explain the rules, and even letting them win. You wanted them to learn that it wasn’t about taking advantage of another; rather, it was all about love and respecting each other—enjoying a relationship.

True love is never about elevating oneself. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. It’s about choosing to limit itself and choosing to serve. It doesn’t highlight what is lacking in someone, but what is favourable in someone. Love from its great height calls, woos and encourages the ones it loves to come up higher, and shows them the more excellent way of getting there. Love covers a multitude of sins and provides the remedy for it. While people may naturally experience fear, pain or demand their rights; love casts out fear, heals the pain, and surrenders its rights.

In fact, love has no rights. Many people believe that by maintaining their rights, or even fighting for them, they will find freedom. True freedom is not found in holding onto, but in letting go of what we think belongs to us. Living according to our rights is living independently and love does not live independently, but interdependently. When we live interdependent we live in true relationship. Love is about laying down your life for another.

I once heard a story about two goats meeting each other on a narrow bridge. They were both head to head and there was no way to get around. Heads down and horns up, they butted against each other to push the other back in order to get across. With both horns’ locked, neither was getting anywhere. Finally, one decided that not just its head needed to be lowered, but its entire body. It bent its knees and laid down for the other goat to walk over it to the opposite side. Child, love would far rather bend down, than raise itself up. Love washes feet.

You know how much I love sitting in my big recliner chair that faces the street. From there I watch the children go back and forth to school. It’s like I’m watching the world go by. The funny thing is they can’t see me watching them from behind my lace curtain. I’ve witnessed many fights between those children, and often, it is over one trying to get back what belonged to them.

I remember one day two boys were fighting over a basketball. One of them threw it into my lovely rose bush, breaking it. How was I going to sort this out? The easy solution would have been to buy both of them a basketball. They would each have their own, but would that end their fighting? No. I realized it would only foster more independence, more selfishness, and even more conflict. I could also lay down the law and tell them how to conduct themselves on my property. This was not the answer either, as it would only force me to scrutinize their every move. Then they would probably fear me, rather than develop a healthy respect for what I value…

Love Well

When I arrived in Africa 16 years ago I would often hear phrases like “Go well”, “Stay well”, “Travel well.” Even in the Shona language, “Fambai zvakanaka” literally means “Walk good” but in its general sense, “Travel well.” Not that I adopt every phrase I hear, I did these ones because of the encouragement in them.

I turned 52 today and as I was contemplating what words of wisdom I would want to pass on, they would be quite simply, and yet so powerfully be, “Love well”. The last few days my devotions have been in Matthew 5 where Jesus is presenting some pretty big challenges to His disciples in the area of what it means to “Love well”. One of the challenges He gives is “Whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two.” It is only when we search beneath the surface of such a statement that we can understand it within the context it was written. At the time Jesus spoke these words the Romans had occupied Israel for around 100 years. Roman soldiers had the right to order Jews to carry their equipment that weighed around 100lbs or 45kg for one Roman mile that was equal to 1000 paces. The Jews loathed this law and would often mark off those paces and not carry the burden one step further. So here we have Jesus, a Jew, exhorting His Jewish followers to go beyond the call of duty or the requirements of the law. In this case it would be a challenge to love their enemies well.

For me, I view this as a call to “Love well” whoever comes across my journey. This is definitely something I haven’t done well in my 52 years. Only as I die daily to self and allow Christ’s love to live out of me am I able to see the possibility of what it means to “Love well”. Trust me, if you want opportunities of seeing the possibilities, and pray for those, He is more than willing to provide you with them. Then when you find yourself responding rather than reacting, you thank God for His amazing grace and mercy. When you find yourself giving, and not thinking of what you will get in return, you thank God for His incredible faithfulness. When you release words of encouragement and edification instead of words of blame and accusation, you thank God for the words of life He has spoken over you.

My prayer for myself, and those I walk with, is that we will never stop desiring to “Love well”.

I Am That Woman

Needy

Vulnerable

Hungry

Thirsty

Weak

Ashamed

Blamed

I Am That Woman… in the desert having been chased away by someone who used me. 

I Am That Woman… orphaned, given to a man I didn’t choose. 

I Am That Woman… praying night and day for a desire to be fulfilled. 

I Am That Woman… passed by for someone more beautiful. 

I Am That Woman… left empty in the bitterness of bereavement. 

I Am That Woman… not knowing where my next meal is coming from. 

I Am That Woman… bound by my past and present sins. 

I Am That Woman… drawing from wells that will never satisfy my thirst. 

I Am That Woman… criticized for wasting my dowry.

I Am That Woman… spending all my money on physicians who can’t heal me. 

I Am That Woman… from a foreign land whose family member needs help. 

I Am That Woman… caught in the depravity of my sin and shame.

I Am That Woman… whose loved one has died.

I Am That Woman… found in the desert by the God Who Sees Me.

I Am That Woman… called and empowered by God to save my people from obliteration.

I Am That Woman… whose fervent prayers are answered.

I Am That Woman… shown compassion by God and blessed with sons; one being the ancestor of Jesus.

I Am That Woman… given a son by my daughter-in-law to carry on the family name.

I Am That Woman… provided for by God.

I Am That Woman… delivered by Jesus of my bondages and the first to see the risen Lord.

I Am That Woman… having encountered the Living Water running to tell friends and family what He has done for me.

I Am That Woman… pouring spikenard oil over the head of Jesus hearing Him rebuke those who judged me, saying that the world will know what I did for Him.

I Am That Woman… reaching out in faith to touch the hem of the Messiah’s robe and is healed.

I Am That Woman… crying out to the Son of David to have mercy on me hearing Him say that my faith is great and my desire is granted.

I Am That Woman… standing helpless and hopeless before my accusers and I hear Jesus say, “Neither do I condemn you; go and sin no more.”

I Am That Woman… putting my faith in the Resurrection and the Life. And though I will die, I will live for eternity with Him.

I Am That Woman… whose deepest needs have been met by my Jesus, Yeshua, Ishi, my heavenly Husband.

Love Suffers Long

One of my blogs last year, entitled “Life is Hard”, featured a very dear son of mine, Gamu. At that time his grandmother (Gogo) who raised him had just passed away. I wanted to use the hardships he faced being born with AIDs, having both his parents die in his early years of AIDs, constant educational, emotional and physical challenges to inspire us to rise up and continue on our journey, even against seemingly insurmountable obstacles. 

Never did it cross my mind that one year later I would be posting a blog in memory of Gamucharai. This precious young man passed away on April 29^th at the age of 22. Throughout the 10 years I knew Gamu, I had attempted to provide him with spiritual and practical help when living in Harare, Zimbabwe and also after moving to Cape Town. But what Gamu provided me far outweighs what I did for him.

Here’s a glimpse into my heart back in 2011 when I was visiting Harare. “The Sunday before I left, I attended the service at my old church. As I sat in my seat waiting for the service to begin, I spotted Gamu standing in the aisle ushering people to their seats. This brought tears to my eyes. They were the tears of a woman that, for six years of not knowing what she was meant to do or be in this special young man’s life, had been transformed into a mother. I was now witnessing one of my sons raised from the ash heap, having overcome through his courage, persistence and choices, sitting as a prince on God’s throne of honour. He was making this mother and his heavenly Father very proud. Indeed, the Father had opened my eyes to yet another one of His hidden treasures. I realized my own willingness and desire to dig deeper had led me to discover this precious treasure, in the form of a little boy, now transformed into a young man that was digging for his own treasures.”

Gamu was not a son of my womb, but a son of my heart. Because I didn’t have the advantage of raising him, I had to find a love that went beyond a biological mother’s natural instinct. It would be a matter of digging deep into my own heart to discover the love that had been shed abroad in my heart and spontaneously give it away. Romans 5:5 says, “And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because He has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with His love.” Interesting how that verse follows Paul referring to glorying in our sufferings, because our sufferings produce in us perseverance, character, and hope. Hope that comes through suffering will not disappoint. 

My hopes for Gamu were that he would be healed of AIDs; he would be loved unconditionally in a family environment, and he would live out the dreams God had for him. Any mother wants her children to live their lives to the fullest and outlive them. It seems what I hoped for him on earth would only be fully realized in heaven. He is healed of AIDs; he is loved unconditionally by the biggest family and by the best Father; and he lived out the dreams God had for him. The dreams God had were that whoever came in contact with this simple young man, and truly had their eyes opened to the Father’s heart for Gamu, would discover a love in them that only comes from the spontaneous nature of God’s love in us. God’s love for us suffers long; our love for others is to suffer long.

With God-incidence, I am posting this blog on Mother’s Day. It’s a day set-apart to remember and thank our Mother’s for the long-suffering love they have had for their children. In as much as I do that, I also want to thank the children for teaching us blood or heart mothers what it means to love. You have given us opportunities to discover more of the heart of God, than ever we would have without you. 

I dedicate this blog to my son Gamucharai, who showed me that love suffers long…

Why is this time so special? (Part 2)

2. The Lamb had to be examined for four days. The Torah instructed the lamb to be carefully examined for blemishes; and only a perfect lamb would suffice. After arriving in Jerusalem, Jesus went to the temple and was interrogated by the Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians and teachers of the law, who tried to find imperfections and faults in His teachings, but they failed. Pilate, after examining Jesus, announced he could find no fault in Him and then washed his own hands. In Jewish homes, when the father declared the lamb to be perfect after inspection, he washed his hands and gave the lamb over to be slaughtered. What is so interesting is that Pilate, not a Jew, would not have known this custom, but he followed it. Can you see how intentional and impeccable God is concerning what He requires?

3. The leaven (impurity) must be cast out. The Torah instructed that before the Passover, all leaven, which represented impurities and

was a symbol of sin, must be removed from every Israelite home. Each mother took a candle and cleaned all the dirt from the house. After Jesus arrived in Jerusalem, He entered the Temple and chased out the merchants and moneychangers from His Father’s house.

4. The Lamb was taken to the altar for public display. On the morning of the 14th day of the first month, the lamb was led to the altar. At 9am that morning, the lamb was bound to the altar and put on public display for all to see. On that same morning, at that same time, Jesus was led to Calvary. Just as the lamb was being bound to the altar, Jesus was nailed to the cross and put on public display.

5. The Lamb was slain at a specific time. At exactly 3pm, the high priest ascended the altar, and as another priest blew a shofar on the temple wall, the high priest cut the throat of the sacrificial lamb and declared, “It is finished!” The sound of the shofar was thought to be the voice of God. At 3pm Jesus, at the moment the Passover lamb was killed, cried out with a loud voice, “It is finished!” and died. In Greek, “It is finished” means, “The debt has been paid in full!” Matthew 27:51 says the veil of the temple was torn in two from the top to the bottom. When the firstborn son of a Jewish father died, the father would tear his garment from the top to the bottom.

6. It was required that no bone be broken on the lamb. The soldiers did not break Jesus’ legs on the cross for when they came to Him, He had already died.

7. The lamb was roasted (representing God’s fiery judgment). “Now it was about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour” (Luke 23:44-45). Darkness symbolized judgment. It was in the last three hours of Jesus hanging on the cross that God judged the sins of humankind.

As followers of the Messiah, we don’t only celebrate the Lord’s Passover once a year, but every time we partake of communion. Jesus began His ministry at the Passover and ended His ministry as the Lamb of God at the Passover. When we observe communion, we are remembering our sin and its bitterness. We are also remembering the sinless Lamb, who was punished in our place. Jesus’ blood, symbolized in the wine, applied to our lives, causes death to pass over us. The bread represents Christ’s body as the Lamb of God. During communion, we are to search ourselves and get rid of leaven or sin in our hearts. It is a time when we allow the Lamb of God as our Passover Lamb to take away our sin. 

Jews at Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread use matzah bread. This bread was made by the Jews centuries ago and is still used by them today. What was so intriguing was the way it was made. First of all, the bread was to be unleavened or without yeast, because yeast represented sin. Then, the bread was to be baked in such a way it had burn marks on it. Also, it had to have stripes on it and was to be pierced with small holes. The rabbis stipulated it must be bruised, striped and pierced, having no idea it would be their Messiah, who, much later, would be bruised, striped and pierced for their sin. He, indeed, is our Bread of Life. Jesus, at the Last Supper, with the disciples took the matzah bread, blessed and broke it. He then gave it to them and said, “Take, eat; this is My body” and with the cup, He gave thanks, and said, “For this is My blood of the new covenant, which is shed for many for the remission of sins” (Matthew 26:26-28). This treasure should be more significant to us, as followers of Jesus, who remember He is the why this time is so special.

(Taken from “The Treasure Within” book written by Kathy Gooch)

Why is this time so special? (Part 1)

Around this time of the year, the worldwide Body of Christ recognizes a very significant historical event—the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Most of us know it as “Easter,” but the biblical name for it is “The Lord’s Passover.” This particular feast began as a time to commemorate the deliverance and exodus of the children of Israel from Egypt. The first Passover is described in Exodus 12. One lamb was slain for every Israelite household, and the blood was painted onto their doorframes. The motion they used when applying the blood to the doorframes replicated the Hebrew letter meaning “life.” This was done so the Lord would not kill the firstborn son of the Jewish households, but only those of Pharaoh and his people. Exodus 12:13b says, “…And when I see the blood, I will pass over you…” Prior to their departure from Egypt, they were to quickly eat the lamb with unleavened bread and bitter herbs.

While studying covenant, I discovered there couldn’t be a covenant without the shedding of blood. Therefore, what makes the Lord’s Passover so important is the blood of the Lamb of God! You may be wondering if Passover and Easter are the same? No, they are not. Church history explains that when the Emperor Constantine tried to merge Christianity with Paganism, it sounded great to followers of

Jesus because he was legalizing Christianity. This meant one could go to church without fear of being thrown to the lions. Constantine didn’t mind Christians celebrating Jesus’ resurrection, but he did mind them observing the Passover. He demanded that Christians not celebrate Jesus’ resurrection at the time of the Passover. He outlawed this feast and declared Christ’s death and resurrection to be celebrated on the Sunday following the first full moon, after the vernal equinox. This is the spring festival of the pagan fertility goddess, Ishtar, also known as Eastre. Most of the church still observes Jesus’ resurrection at Easter, instead of Passover. Those who celebrated the Passover were brutally murdered. Satan has tried to stop its celebration, because it is centred on the blood of the Lamb of God, and he knows the blood has power and covers all sin.

During my treasure hunt, it was astounding to discover that the timetable of the Passover and the timetable of Jesus’ crucifixion were exactly the same. According to the Torah (first five books of the Bible), during the Passover, a number of events had to take place in a specific order and at specific times:

1. The Passover Lamb had to be selected on a specific day. God instructed the Israelites to choose the Passover lamb on the tenth day of the first month, which in the Jewish calendar is in the spring. At the time of Jesus, only lambs born and raised in Bethlehem were considered eligible to serve as Passover lambs. After their birth they were wrapped in a cloth. When Jesus was born in Bethlehem the sign the angels told the shepherds to look for was a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger. Why would this be the sign to the shepherds? Because for Jews swaddling cloths were only used to wrap a dead body. It was the custom for travellers to take a swaddling cloth or strips of cloth on their journey, so if they died on the way, whoever found them could easily wrap the body in the cloth, and then bury them. Joseph and Mary most likely travelled to Bethlehem with such a cloth. Without them realizing it, and probably having nothing else soft, or suitable to wrap newly born Jesus, they used the swaddling cloth. So right at birth, Jesus was set apart for death. The priest would select a lamb from Bethlehem that would be without blemish and four days before the Passover he would bring it through the Eastern Gate of the city of Jerusalem, where the temple was located. The people knew to gather at the Eastern Gate to see which lamb he had selected. When it was Jesus’ time to die as the Passover Lamb, what gate did He come through riding on a donkey?The Eastern Gate, where the people had already assembled. Palm branches were waved and the people received Him as their Messiah. Prophetically, they were choosing Him as their Passover Lamb.

There are more treasures that I will share in the next blog.

(Taken from “The Treasure Within” book written by Kathy Gooch)

Life out of devastation

The mountain behind where I live on fire

It’s one thing to see a wildfire on television but it’s quite another to witness it sweep across the mountainside right above you. I live below one of the beautiful Table Mountain ranges in Cape Town. They have always wowed and impressed me like nothing else I have seen in all my travels. There is something to be said about their prominence, majesty, magnificence, beauty, strength and even mystery especially when you’re hiking them and think you’ve reached the top, only to discover there is another top! While their awesomeness seems to command my respect, at the same time they invite me to get up close and personal. And wrap me in their arms once I do. The sun is always brighter at the top and the sky bluer and the air fresher and the sounds clearer. There is no end to what one can discover on those mountains. They constantly challenge you to go up higher and not miss out on what could be just around the corner. Clothed from top to bottom with flora (or fynbos as its called here) and teeming with fauna; they are a picture of vitality.

Not once in all the years I have looked upon or walked upon these mountains would I have used the word vulnerable to describe them. But after witnessing the raging fires, that over five days devastated 5000 hectares of vegetation, I would add the word vulnerable to my description of them. Yes, the mountain itself is still standing but what decorated it has been stripped away. It’s naked, exposed. No longer a hiker or photographer’s paradise.

My mountain on fire

At this point it may be helpful for us to know the definition of vulnerable – able to be wounded. It is basically placing yourself, for the sake of the larger purpose, in a situation that could bring pain. For me the fires and how they have affected these mountains have been such a picture of the nature and character of God. Here He is prominent, majestic, magnificent, and mysterious and we could add to these hundreds of words; yet He has allowed Himself to be vulnerable. Much like these mountains succumbing to the whims of humankind who carelessly light fires during dry summers, God voluntarily places Himself in a situation that could possibly bring Him pain. It isn’t that He doesn’t foresee the implications of our carelessness, but because He has given us freedom of choice, He subjects Himself to our choices. Philip Yancey, one of my favourite Christian authors writes in his book, Reaching for the Invisible God, “I marvel at a God who puts Himself at our mercy, as it were, allowing Himself to be quenched and grieved, and even forgotten.” For me, the amazingness (if there is such a word) of God is that He goes through quenching and grieving while continuing to have His arms opened wide anticipating our turning back to Him. Not only that, but once we do, He turns all the heartache, pain, and damage we’ve done and redeems it.

My friend who works for Table Mountain National Parks sent me an article that helped to alleviate my distress at the effects of the fire. The botanist who wrote the article says that the fynbos vegetation that clothes our mountains is both fire prone and fire dependent. In order for the plants in the fynbos to be able to regenerate or reproduce it needs to be subjected to fire (usually controlled fires) every 10-14 years. The article says that these plants either resprout after a fire or they produce seeds that are adapted to survive fire and require heat and chemical compounds from the smoke to germinate. Some plants would have spread their seed within hours after the fire passed. So this magnificent mountain, in time, will be clothed even more brilliantly than before.

I don’t believe that the choices we make in any way diminish who God is. He remains the same yesterday, today and forever. But I do stand amazed that despite what we do to Him, He chooses to bring life out of devastation. 

Before fire

After fire

        

Before fire

After fire

For Love's Sake

Most of us have grown up knowing how to celebrate Valentine’s Day, but do we know why we are celebrating it? One of my favourite sayings that has changed the way I look at life is, “Those who know why have the advantage over those who know how.” I’ll be the first to confess that I have been an ignorant bystander as to why February 14^th has been set apart. Honestly speaking, the only reason I decided to investigate further is because I thought I probably wasn’t the only ignorant one and it might be a good idea to write a blog about it. Huh! Don’t you wish we all had a reason to dig a little deeper?

Well in some ways I have not come away disappointed and in other ways I have. To begin with let me share why I’m not disappointed. According to history there really was a St. Valentine or more accurately, Valentinus. He lived during the reign of the Roman emperor Claudius II. Now according to what I read, historians aren’t sure if either or both of what I’m about to share are true. Claudius II had this belief that single men made better soldiers as their loyalty would not be divided between their country and their wives and children. Hence, he outlawed marriage. Valentinus was a priest and decided to officiate marriages in secret. The emperor had a pantheon of gods that he decreed were to be worshipped and it was a crime to speak to Christians. Being a believer in Christ, Valentinus, refused to worship these gods. So whether Valentinus was found guilty of one of these or both, we are not sure, but he was caught, arrested, imprisoned and sentenced to death.

The jailer who guarded Valentinus found him to be a very intelligent, kind and giving man. Having a daughter who was blind the jailer asked Valentinus if he would teach his daughter, Julia. Julia came to the prison and learned from Valentinus academics and the ways of God. The two became close; Valentinus seeing Julia like a daughter and Julia seeing Valentinus as a friend and mentor. She confided in him that her one desire and constant prayer was to receive her sight. Again, we’re not sure which one of the following is true, but one account says that a flash of light filled the room and Julia received her sight and another says that Valentinus prayed for her and she was healed. Valentinus was scheduled to be executed on February 14^th, 270 AD. Right before his execution, he wrote a note to Julia and signed it, “From your Valentine.”

Wow! What a beautiful story of Valentinus’ willingness to be martyred for love’s sake. I suppose my disappointment comes when the power of the meaning of this day has been diluted down to chocolates, flowers and romantic (or rotic – romantic without the man) dinners. Not that there is anything wrong with these expressions, but if that is all there is to Valentine’s Day then I believe we have missed out on its true message. I have just returned from spending Valentine’s evening visiting the sick in the largest hospitals in Cape Town, along with around 20 University students. It was their idea to spend Valentine’s evening taking the love of Christ to the patients by listening to their stories, giving out flowers and sweets, and praying for their healing. Personally, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate this day, especially now that I know why it has been set apart. If we dig a little deeper, we will find that there is a lot we can do for love’s sake.