Tribute: Murray Gibson Grobler 31/8/1933-1/9/2018

It has been a while since my thoughts could focus on finding a reason to write something. But I find myself at that place where I feel the need to write a little about someone who is one of the reasons I am here today physically.

My father was born in the Democratic Republic of Congo, then known as the Belgium Congo in August 31st, 1933. He and his brother, Jan, were schooled in separate schools: Jan at the French speaking school and my father at an English school. He always will tell you how he use to commute 5 days to school, and then 5 days back home during school holidays. At one stage, he schooled on their farm through correspondence. He knew how to hunt, shot his first buffalo at 14 years, made friends with the locals an spoke 7 languages at one point. He made some dear friends from Greek, Belgium and French origin as well. In those years, to live there was bliss, full of richeness of the wild, the bush and no serious issues with the locals.
My father fell in love there. His relationship was not accepted by his immediate family, but none the less she bore him a son, Nicky and two beautiful daughters, Irene and Regine.

When the rebellion broke out, things got turned upside down.His family left the Congo for South Africa and he decided to stay behind. I can just imagine the reasons he had. His family was there. Why would even think to abandon them. But as the threats became more serious, he was forced to make that terrible decision: he took his two daughters to a Home in Belgium. He tried his best to set them up to be looked after and to be educated. He returned to the farm where he in the end had to flee for his life.
He told us many a time where he escaped narrowly form being executed. Many a time a gun was pointed at him. One time he would laugh in their faces. Many know of his infectious laugh. This was the same laugh that saved his life.
There was a time where he was recruited as a mercenary where he fought with the likes of Mike Hoare. Not much is said about this. I think this part of his life he did out of survival only.
Then, at last, he was forced to leave his farm, his animals and all his beloingings, and come to South Africa. Again his life was threatened having picked up malaria. Those days the medici were not so aware of the symptoms of the life threatening disease. In the end they treated him with quinine, which later effected his hearing.
In South Africa he began driving transport, something he did also in the Congo. His mother made a new attempt to get him married. And through a mutual hairdresser, my dad met my mom. My mom said he was dark, black hair and had playful, naughty eyes. They married soon after and on September, 9th, 1977, I was born.

I knew my father as the hard working sales man. He cared a lot for his people and still today has a non-prejudice outlook on race and colour. And in 1984 the Lord Jesus Christ entered our little family.
My father and I were baptized together one icy Wednesday morning at a local AFM church in Wonderboom, Pretoria. Shortly after he and I were baptized in the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking in tongues. The Lord changed my father in such a way, that he diligently began serving at the church together with my mother who was playing the piano and for some many churches in Pretoria at the time.
He continued to work hard and retired as a broker for Sanlam.

In May, 2001, my father and mother moved to the little quiet town of Montagu, on the infamous Route 62 in the Western Cape. The Lord once again worked miraculous connections and gave favour for them to occupy the house at no 21 Montagu village, Hospital street. Soon they had made contact with the ministry couple Roy & Roziera Mcarthy. Together with the family of the Montagu Covenant Church, the Lord bonded many friendships in His love. Testimonies are many of their wisdom and care for all who needed.
My mother passed in 2007 due to severe health complications. Mention must be made of the support of the church and that of Roy and Roziera.
In June, 2018, my uncle passed and on the same day my father received the grave news of stage 4 Melanoma.
I will always honour my father for the hard working, caring, loving and strong character he had. In the last 34 years of his life, he knew the Lord and grew in ever deepening relationship with God the Father, Jesus and His Holy Spirit. I will remember for his keen sense of driving, his ability to sell something, his loud sometimes embarrasing laughter, his love for life, nature and his family. He supported me the best ways he knew how. He might not always have the means to, but he sponsored my training at Miracle Bible College. He continued in prayer for me, for my new family the Pelsers, and all that we were involved in. I am glad that he was there to see the birth of the my youngest daughter Zoe, someone my mother still has to meet.
His words ring true in ears of my children, the cashier at the Spar, the waitor: "Jesus loves you, and I love you."

MBC Graduation 2016

To end or not to end? That is the question

When you come to the end of something there is always that little hesitancy to what one has to do next. And the end sometimes comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it is a painful end but immediate relief, like the birth of a child. Sometimes is is a prolonged end, where you know the end is coming but you know there is still 6 weeks left or 3 days left. I don't always appreciate those. And then there is the open ended ending. The one you don't know when it is really the end or whether you are just ending it because you have had enough. I think that IT is like that. As soon as you have the latest package, model and you feel you have ended with the old, there is a better one on the shelf. There is just no end.

God said He is the beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last. So it is fair to say whatever ending you face, you can always know that He is the author and finisher of the the very faith He has given. He gives endings and He gives beginnings.

The question is still though: "What next?"

I have always thrived in planning and investigating and asking questions and probing. But there are things that just remain unknown and it remains out of your vision and out of your reach until the day He chooses to reveal it. This can be quite a daunting time. You know it is the end but you don't know how to end it.

And He is so clever. He will let it run on until you almost hit your head against a brick wall. I say almost, because we are suppose to listen to His leading. We are not going through life blindly, aimlessly or without purpose. He has mapped it all out for us to discover. But all in His time of course.

So the Word in Jeremiah says we are to remain with His living waters and not make broken cisterns that cannot hold water. Man made solutions are like cisterns. They are easy to hold, easy to contain. But they break. Remaining with His the fountain means you cannot control the water flow. But it sustains.

Season confusions

So it is the 8th of July, fresh snow has fallen on the Ceder and Drakensberg mountain range, I step into our local clothing store (not brave enough to conceal the chain) and what do I behold? Summer clothing!!!!

Who in their right mind decided that when July breaks, our country decides to sell summer stock?! It is like someone thought it will be good idea so that we can stay on track with States or Europe. God forbid we fall behind.

I have fallen countless times for this trick. So when is the best time to shop for winter? February I think. When the Cape is going through a heat wave, the boere are praying for rain and we are frying our guts out at the pool everyday. Yes, that is the time when you are suppose to get up, go to the shop and start looking for thermal underwear, ski jackets and mow hair socks!

So I went to the store manager, and her reply was a typical African reply. "ma'am, you better take it up with head office." Head office - the vaguest concept in our country. So imagined myself holding my cell phone to my ear for a minimum of 20 minutes listening to boring lounge music while being put on hold by yet another receptionist.Is it really worth it? Or shall I simply just start  shopping online from now on?

Honestly, I am really considering this option from now on. Just go online and find what you need and have it delivered. Spree.co.za ! Here we come!

France

Everybody I have met who has been in Paris has always said to me how wonderful Paris is and how inspiring it is and how free the French is etc. etc.
Well, when we arrived in Paris, eventually, after a 3 hour train trip, and another 2 hours by metro (the queues were very long to get tickets!) we was greeted by a shortish darkish young guy in tight jeans and shirt, short shaven hair and expensive looking sunglasses on his head. " Are you Pulsur?" I thought I would embrace him in relief, but was weary why he knew the name. Thank God he was not a con, but our landlord for the next 3 days!
So we proceeded to our Parisian apartment, which was another 5 flights of stairs up. We plonked ourselves on his leather coach, the kids promptly switching the tv on to look for anything that looked remotely like Boomerang or Nickelodeon. The second day we find ourselves looking for bus stops. They were plenty around, just not the numbers we wanted! It was 28 degrees and the Eiffel tower was beckoning and playing hide and seek between the tall apartment buildings. Ethan led the way. More queues, more people...but hey this is Paris! Come on! My husband wanted to take a picture at the top of the ministry of defense. I decided to meet them there, cause by this time my back was aching! And as I made my way up the little hill a sight greeted me that relaxed everything on the inside. People were swimming in the fountains!

What a sight! As the fountains greeted us, my kids promptly jumped in! "Only the French will allow this", I thought. And of course the little twiddle had to try the icy waters as well. So by the time Dad joined us, we were in and out several times. And then the ballerina followed! They could have stayed there forever!

That evening, after safely finding our way back home, via Metro this time, we had expensive burgers across the road and then continued up the winding stairs, where we happily retired. And then the request: "daddy, can I please see the Eiffel Tower at night?" Off she went with her dad and walked the Champs Elysees, seeing the city lights as well as the Eiffel Tower winking from afar! She was hooked! Forever.

The next day, we took it easy and made our way to Notre Dame. I cried the moment we stepped into this ornate historical church. Joan of Arc caught my attention...we salute you, Madame! We are living temples of God not made by hands. We have this glory in our earthen vessels. If the beauty of this church so much takes our breath away, how much more glorious is His Bride?

The pigeons were French too: they ate Brie Cheese and Baguette bread!

My conclusion after the boat trip on the Sienne, the two manned restaurant around the corner from the Notre Dame, the baguette & brie breakfasts, the traffic, the Metro, the art, the art , the art......Je'taime Paris!

Teenage blues

Well, I never thought it would come, but yes! The teens have hit the family! I have never felt so helpless like the last week or so. The sudden irritations, the quiet smile, the tears out of nowhere, and for no apparent reason. So I reevaluate every situation about 10 times before I speak and I pray more often to cope with the feelings and emotions that the 12 year old body is overwhelmed with.
A very good book to read is "Preparing for the adolescent years" by James Dobson. It is written for the pre-teen growing into a teen and it is very encouraging. I read it before I gave it to her. And when I did give it, I could tell it perhaps was a little too early. But now we can openly refer to it and then discuss issues more easily.

I then one day, I took her shopping. Only thing is the almost 2 year old had to go with....not a very good idea! So while I waited 20 minutes at a time ( it felt like an hour) between fittings, I had to chase little madam between the displays, the shoe shelves and the lingerie stands. Everything was explored: the luminous platform shoes, the blue bowed beach sandals, the black gladiator sandals...and there is no point in fuming, huffing, stressing or performing. You have released the lion in a department store. There are just no limits to possibilities in this almost 2 year old  mind. And after 20 grueling minutes, the teen appears saying, "Oh mum I took the wrong size, can you fetch another one for me?" And the whole process starts again.

Today the situation was swapped. I made her come with me to an animal conservation. "for your sister's sake".I offered her the camera to take pictures, but she discarded it on the back seat. The outing started with a reptile show. At first she dodged the situation, but as the reptile man brought out the little creepy crawlies one by one and the slithering snakes, yes, even a spider, the young teen's face started to change and the girl I know came out of hiding and experienced the intrigue of God's creatures first hand. By the time we came to the giraffe, she ran all the way back to the car, and fetched the camera. This majestic animal so caught her attention, that she kicked off her pumps and broke into a ballet routine. It looked like the giraffe was her ballet instructor, looking on and approving of her routine. The picture stirred my heart and I knew that she will be alright.

So we left there content, happy. " I can't believe I touched a spider, mommy!" Yes, girl. You were awesome!

Raising young children, being young yourself

I was 22 years old when Cherie was born on a hot, windy Cape Town summers day. My folks had been waiting around for over two weeks for this little first grandchild to arrive and was very relieved when she at last arrived - 5 days after her due date! Sore, stiff but extremely happy we arrived at our upstairs, two bedroom flat, in the corner of a security complex. The folks had prepared the room for the little princess and the house was filled with food for an army. Everything was new, unfamiliar, but exciting and very thrilling! Little did I know the full impact a little child will make on my life.
You see, today I have realized that one cannot possibly understand the changes that you life would have to undergo at the age of 22! Let's just face it, at that age, you headstrong, full of ideas, full of plans, full of little ambitions to conquer this life that just recently opened up to you - the school desk is still faintly in your memory.In short, the word is self-centered.
So when Cherie contracted pneumonia at 6 weeks, after taking a trip to the beach on a hot, windless day, I got a serious wake up call! This little one is here and she is here to stay.
Part of the baby blues I experienced was the incredible feeling of having to sit out on normal social conversation. I had decided to breastfeed her, no matter what the challenge. So you learn that you have to give up being part of a normal conversation because you are always in a room somewhere feeding, burping or changing a nappy. It was only later that I felt confident enough to breastfeed, discreetly in company. And then the sleep training started. You seem to miss at least half of the dvd you have tried watching the past two hours, because you have decided to train her to sleep in the room by 8 pm. This didn't last very long!
And so you struggle along until this little person starts to mould your will, bend your stubbornness and teach you that all "they" say is right, does not mean it is.
Hear me out: I am not saying that the tested, proved methods of rearing children are to be ignored!! I am just saying that part of the problem is that you are self-centered that even the way you start this journey is to make you feel comfortable, better, a good parent, perfect etc. ect. Instead of tuning into this little one and her needs, then taking well-deserved tips from a trusted, experienced mother, and working your way out in peace.
So now, she is turning 12 years old, and she and her brother seem to have survived me. By the grace of God I tell you!! And since there is new "little one" in the house, things have turned the other way again! But boy, my life is much easier!
Yes, wisdom is revealed in hind sight. But I write this to encourage all first time mothers, especially, YOUNG first time mothers: set aside your whims, fancies, ideas, plans. Enjoy this little one who is about to change you forever. You will change, I promise you, but you can either enjoy the ride or go through it kicking and screaming! Lay down your time, your indulgences. Take time for yourself, by all means, but realize that if you stop resisting the inner change, you will have more energy, more patience, more love, more time. And as my dear mother used to say to me: "this too shall pass!"