It is early morning. I stand very still in the doorway, watching my children's upturned faces, gaping at a tiny spider climbing up and up on an invisible thread... A moment of wonder. My days receive substance from moments such as these, like the sudden glimpse of scarlet from the Knysna Loerie in a silent forest. A few days of blessed sunshine made the village sigh with warm content. Our tread becomes light, we buzz around and lap up the sweetness like Pooh bear in a vat of honey. We slide down potholed roads in muddy cars, windows rolled down, humming as we bounce along. Everything soaks it up into each pore and vein, to sustain during those endless grey days.
We are often asked by visitors or curious bread-buyers: "So what is it that you do in Hogsback?" rolling their eyes in feigned disbelief. Implying; how on earth do you live here? Don't you miss "civilisation"? Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might... Eccl 9:10. That is what I would like my reply to be. My days can be as dreary or delightful as the state of my heart. William Blake wrote in "Auguries of Innocence":
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
Even though Solomon understood that much of life is futile, one must grasp each opportunity and use it to the fullest in serving God. Every man (woman) has a particular work, which is accomplished in this life or not at all. He also adds in Eccl 3:10: "I have seen the burden God has laid on men. He has made all things beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what He has done from beginning to end"...
Just recently, I was churning up dust in my workshop, in search of something to keep Luke and Daniel busy, when my fingers brushed over a familiar container. My heart smiled at the content; a collection of old buttons from my childhood. I tucked it under my arm and carried it back upstairs, expectant and light. With whoops of delight they took out small fist-fulls at a time, dropping them into my lap. I was not quite prepared for the impact these tiny objects would have on me. All at once I was cast back in time, holding a button covered in the same fabric as a favourite dress that my mom use to wear around the house. The next one was brass, once buffed and shining on a tunic of my brother's, then a member of an army band. Next was a wooden one from a winter coat I had as a girl, then a delicate pearly button from my mother's Sunday best. Turning over a small silver button with an anchor on it, I felt my stomach tighten. I was about five or six years old (I think), wearing an adorable sailor's outfit that my mom had put together. The occasion was my grandparent's wedding anniversary, and I had the "privilege" of serenading them, a Capella. With trembling voice I sang: "Op 'n mooie paddastoel, rood met witte stippen". I never realised how adorable it all was...
Such is His love for us. He is not only our Almighty Father, Saviour of the Universe, but also the God of small things. He speaks to us through birdsong, the smile of a petrol pump attendant, a wild flower in a scorched field. He is not a Father that sends a multipurpose message to each one of the children on His address list. He longs for intimate relationship with us, unique and breathtakingly direct. He did not only give us the Holy Spirit - His Word is substance, alive, inexhaustible. It reveals a unique message to each one of us at the exact time when we need it, should we seek it out.
Towards the end of last year, a rather tumultuous time in paradise for me, God led me to a verse that gave me renewed hope. Jeremiah 29:11 reads: For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. A well-known and loved scripture. But then just to make sure that "I got it", I received a text message the next day from a former neighbour that I had lost contact with for many years. It was forwarded by a friend of hers who did not even know me. I gasped as I read it, in Afrikaans: Ek weet wat Ek vir julle beplan, se die Here: voorspoed en nie teenspoed nie; Ek wil vir julle 'n toekoms gee, 'n verwagting! (Jeremia 29:11)... God must have thought, lets just make sure this scatter-brain gets the message, in two different languages "nogal".
His plans are unfolding, one miraculous day at a time. He shows me the poetry he has written for me, and it stirs me in ways I never thought possible. If not for the mundane, the sublime would not stand out so starkly, if not for the trials, the treasures would loose their value. I inhale the smell of freshly cut grass as I watch Luke offering bits of apple to the grazing horses, their heads large above his. Being refreshed in Jesus' love for me through these gems, I can set my soul on eternity once more, and the waiting turns into hoping, nourishing my ever-deepening love for Him.
In the dew of little things, my heart finds her morning and is refreshed...
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