I am going to talk just briefly about each of the four days we celebrate this week – Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter – and look at how in each day Jesus surprises us and defies our expectations of who he is. It begins with Palm Sunday, which we celebrate today, when Jesus rides into Jerusalem and everyone thinks he`s coming to kick out the Romans and bring freedom to the Jews so they lay down Palm branches and shout, “Hosanna” King of the Jews.” You can understand why they are so excited because for centuries they have been oppressed and conquered by everybody – the Assyrians,…

oor die afgelope paar maande praat die Here op so ‘n sagte, geduldige manier met my oor vertroue. Jy sien – ek sê so graag vir die Here voor. Ek vertel Hom wát moet gebeur; hóé iets moet verloop; of wát die antwoord op my gebed moet wees. Sug. (Die prentjie van ‘n geduldige ouer en beterweterige tiener spring in my kop op). Op die oomblik bid ek seker die eenvoudigste, dog moeilikste gebed: “Father I trust You. Have Your way.” Soms afgewissel met die baie moeilike: “Father I don’t understand… but I trust You.” Dit is vir my so moeilik om ‘n PUNT aan die einde van “I trust…

Ek wil jou bottel en inlê - net hier waar jy nou is - so bietjie voor vier.

i was 37 weeks pregnant. I was naked. I was wet. I was sitting on the edge of the bath. My once perky breasts were resting on top of my huge belly and I was in tears. This is how my husband had found me. {Bless his heart!} i don’t know exactly what it was. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it was the realisation that my life was never going to be the same again. But in that moment, getting out of the bath the enormity of the responsibility of parenthood had hit me. I was so afraid that I would not be a good-enough mom to my…

By Diana Spalding   To the person who falls in love with my son, I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be giving you this letter. Maybe in a few decades on the day you marry my son. Or maybe it will be just a random day that feels right. Whenever it is that you get this letter, I hope that I will be alive and well enough to fully experience how happy I am to know you. Right now it feels a little silly to be writing this letter. My son, my little toddler, is upstairs, tucked in a bed that seems giant compared to him, and it reminds me…

geskryf deur Joanita Olivier die nie-fliek weergawe van huweliksherdenkings, romantiese illusies, ‘n toddler en honde: so is ek en my Honey-Hush vier jaar getroud. Ons het al klomp storms saam trotseer – verhuising (dink gypsies), swangerskap, slaap deprivasie, lewensveranderende besluite en aanpassings, ‘n wilde toddler. Die lys gaan aan. Met vier jaar onder die belt, voel ons trots. Hier volg die gebeure van 10/12/2014 in ons huishouding. Meestal akkuraat. Sommige effens verwronge as gevolg van trauma: ons het nie ‘n babysitter naby nie – geen ouma of oupa wat net om die draai bly nie (sug – ye fortunate ones!) Dus moes ons maar tussendeur toddler-roetines en mannewales romanse inbou.…

written by Joanita Olivier Tonight I kissed my four-year-old son goodnight for the last time, for tomorrow he turns five. I was filled with contradicting emotions – some of which have been identified and others that still need some figuring out. There was relief. Relief that he now sleeps through the night (at some point in time I thought it would never happen). Relief that he can understand no in the absence of a temper tantrum (most of the time). Relief that he can wipe his own cute bum (sometimes sufficiently ?). Sadness was definitely also present. Sadness that time is flying by so quickly. That my squishy baby is…