In the garden before the fall.

We had no lack

Before we went off track.

Naked yet felt no shame,

Because innocence defined our frame.

The presence of God, O wonderful sweetness!

His voice filled with love and tenderness.

He made it all,

In beauty – all great and small.

From the fish that swarmed the seas,

To the birds that flew with ease,

All creatures that crept on the ground,

To the cattle and beasts that he made to abound.

Man, who was made in His image and likeness

Was to care for it all in kindness.

We heard him call,

But His tender love we could not recall.

Fear and dread filled our mind

As we sought for a tree to hide behind.

He said we could eat, but not from that one

Or death would surely come.

But beguiled by the serpent’s crafty entice,

We exchanged God’s truth for a lie.

We heard mercy call

From the One whose authority is above all;

The Son of God, full of truth and grace,

He came and showed us God’s embrace.

Although we were by nature children of wrath,

He died to bring us onto the right path.

Sinless and righteous, yet took upon Himself our shame,

He bore God’s wrath and took the blame.

So come now you all

And take heed to His call,

All you from every tribe and nation, great and small.

Come to the place that He has prepared;

Where fellowship with Him has been totally repaired.

The former things have passed away,

No more sin or death, nor suffering or decay.

He has promised to restore everything to perfection,

And that is our hope as we await our glorification.

He alone is God Almighty,

Praise His Holy name for He alone is worthy!

The post Restoration through Christ Jesus appeared first on Proverbs 31.

I am an African woman.

I am an African woman who is white.

If you are a black African woman, I can see your nostrils flare and smoke coming out of your ears as you indignantly whisper ‘How dare she call herself African!!’

Your black African identity has just presupposed superiority over my white African identity. Seriously, that is what you have just done. Default prejudices and stereotypical expectations and assumptions have been reinforced. I am pleading with you, my black ‘sistas,’ to just breathe, count to ten and to not stop reading.

I am an African Woman.

I was born in Africa and have lived here all my life.

I concede that my lineage and roots cannot be traced to Mapungubwe. My ancestors were not slaves. For all I know, my ancestors could have been slave traders.

I am a 4th generation South African whose paternal great grandparents were from England and whose maternal great grandparents were French Huguenots. My maternal grandfather was a true Afrikaans boer, a sheep farmer from Cradock.

My paternal grandfather left school at the age of 14 to learn a trade to support his mother and nine younger siblings after the death of his father.

I was born in the summer of ’69, [the only significance of this is that it is the title of a Bryan Adams song].

I am a product of growing up under the Apartheid regime on the side of white privilege.

My birthplace is a little town called Queenstown in the Eastern Cape.

I have lived in South Africa, Uganda and Rwanda.

I am an African woman.

I have realised that if there is any group in South Africa that can be pitied from a cultural richness and heritage perspective, it is us English white South Africans. Please hear me out. Perhaps the only card I can play is that we are a minority group! [I hope you can find the humour in this irony].

South Africans who have cultural and tribal allegiances have unique traditions and practices, be that Zulu, Xhosa etc. These could be traditional marriage practices, lobola, coming of age ceremonies, and traditional dress.

The Cape Malays have a rich food culture and lingo.

The Afrikaners have koeksusters, melktert, braaivleis and rugby.

What easily discernible traditions or cultural practices do I as a white English South African have? Perhaps white privilege? Are you slowly starting to feel sorry for me? Do you realise why I have an identity crisis?

Thabiti Anyabwile has so transformed my thinking on this idea of racial identity. His premise is the following: ‘The category of race is a social fiction. It is not a real Biblical category.’ [He refers to Acts 17:26] ‘The idea of race is an illusion. Nowhere in the Bible do you find anything describing race.’

He goes on further to explain that there is one Biblical story. We are one human race descended from Adam.

In Genesis 3, Eve is called the mother of all living.

After the flood, the rest of humanity descended from Noah and his sons.

We are all unified as descendants of Adam and Noah. The table of nations in Genesis 10 illustrates that all are descended from Noah’s sons. It does not mention race, but rather class, language and ethnicity. Thabiti argues that before Christian unity, there is biological unity because we are all descended from the same parents. ‘As Christians, we need a thorough rethinking of anthropology… We need some truth-telling in a vigorous Biblical way.’ 

So in the church, dear ‘sistas,’ we do not have the right to look at one another in terms of racial categories. That would be a sin. That would be racism. And it is a sin in the way racism has manifested itself in the hearts and actions of people. This may be historically justified but that doesn’t make it right.

I do not have the freedom to look at you and behold first your skin colour and base an entire narrative on that and you do not have the freedom to do that to me. Because of our citizenship in heaven, I have more in common with my black ‘sista’ in the pew than I do with my white neighbour who is an unbeliever. That is what Christ’s blood bought on the cross. We are co-heirs with Christ. We are one in Christ. As Jesus said in John 8:32, the Truth will always set us free. What more wonderful truths could there be for you and me than contained in these verses:

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise.[Galatians3:28-29]

Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. [Colossians 3:9-11]

Where does that leave you and me?

It leaves us deliberately and intentionally changing the way we look at each other. I must look at you with different eyes. You must look at me with different eyes. We must view each other through the lens of the Gospel of Grace. We are ‘sista’s in Christ.’

Tim Keller articulates this so clearly: ‘Racial pride and cultural narrowness cannot co-exist with the gospel of grace. They are mutually exclusive.’

Identity crisis? What crisis?

I am settled in this. My identity does not need to come from my skin colour, my language, my traditions or my cultural practices. None of that defines me. It may explain me, but it does not define me. My identity is found in Christ and that trumps all else, because that is eternal.

The post I Am An African appeared first on Proverbs 31.

As I’m growing in my faith, one finds themselves seeking external benefits at first and then one realises how those do not satisfy, instead they can lead to seeking more earthly goods and losing one’s soul in the process. I’m reminded of 2 Timothy 3:2 “For men shall be lovers of self, lovers of money, boastful, haughty, railers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy” (ESV). This scripture is characteristic to some of the Christians I know. I’ve also been there and sometimes I find myself still there, only because I don’t acknowledge my internal need.

Our daily struggles can be well hidden, especially when one is single and living by themselves. However, they eventually come up to the surface sooner or later… In my case it was quite a slow journey before I realised what my daily struggle was.

By nature, we are all covetous – we want what others have. This is nurtured by society, especially when you meet other women who are always asking each other where they bought their dresses, shoes, or who did their hair? These moments are fluffy but they cement the need to be covetous. Even though one may not want what others have, but the desire is to be on the same level – at any cost.

Being raised by a single mother, I was told I could be anything I wanted, of course this was further enforced by my school teachers and as a teenager I actually started believing in “this theory”. I was independent from an early age and worked hard in order to succeed. I wanted to be part of the top 5 in high school and I did, my mom was proud but still set higher standards. In my last year of varsity I wanted to be the best in my class and that goal was achieved.

There was nothing wrong with being excellent with my school work but in hindsight trying to be the best messed with me. It made me proud, I didn’t learn humility, instead I learned how to be rude, unkind and critical of everyone around. I learned to see the wrong they do…but never my own. I never learned how to truly love, how to build, how to be patient, how to wait, how to trust, how to serve others…how to be content with the portion the Lord has given me. I wanted more for my own glory and the traits Timothy speaks of above were very evident in my life.

[eltdf_blockquote text=”This deep-rooted sin started off as a harmless seed which has now grown and was infiltrating my marriage, my church and work life. Wanting a life of ease with no complications or inconveniences is what everyone longs for, but a Christian life is full of trials that James says we should “count it all joy and endure”.” title_tag=”h2″ width=””]

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” (James 1:2-4 ESV).

I will be made complete in trials! This for me is a reassuring hope. I’m also thankful for David’s 73^rd psalm as it has shown me how to delight in God even with the mess going around me. That Psalm has taught me to trust, submit, listen, be slow to speak, to be satisfied and still before God, no matter the cost. This, I confess doesn’t come naturally to me. This is a daily struggle and my prayer request. Pray that I may not be covetous and want a life of ease, but be content with where God has placed me in order that I may be perfect, complete and lacking nothing.

The post My daily struggle appeared first on Proverbs 31.

My poor husband was so forbearing and patiently entertained me as I showed him countless pictures of potential hairstyles and toyed with the idea of shaving it all off. Finally, I made up my mind – I was going to go bald. I even coerced hubby to cut it himself (bonding exercise) so he wouldn’t fall off his chair one day when I returned home –ahem…hairless.

So we did the big chop. It was liberating, “I have never felt so beautiful in my life!” was often what I exclaimed to anyone that enquired as to why I had the new look. Also, getting a great number of likes on Instagram with my new look was confirmation that this was the best hair decision yet. Sweet as that was, the cherry on top was that hubby absolutely loved it. I then started the al-naturale route and decided to never relax my hair, well…at least for a while. There’s just something about having natural hair vibes that makes you feel very African!

However, that beautiful season came to an end because today, I lost my Africanness. After another spell of going to and fro (no pun intended) about the next hairstyle, I decided to relax my year-old Afro. My hairdresser did an excellent job and it was so great to be able to run my fingers through my hair again.

Then I had a solemn moment, and in my sadness felt as though my Africaness was no more. Just after I said this, it finally dawned on me, my “identity” as an African was in my hair. This got me thinking about my true and only identity, the one I have in Christ my savior. I realized how we can so easily make our identity in Christ more about the external than our regenerated hearts. We feel like we are more Christian because we are so busy doing stuff and looking the part. Then all of a sudden when we cannot do one thing or another we feel like we are no longer Christian.

[/vc_column_text][eltdf_separator position=”center” top_margin=”27″ bottom_margin=”0″][eltdf_blockquote text=”Countless things are crying out to steal our true identity, I can so easily get my identity from being a wife, a stay at home mom, a homeschooler or a sister.” show_icon=”yes”][eltdf_separator position=”center” top_margin=”30″ bottom_margin=”0″][vc_column_text]

This true identity is so deep rooted that no amount of “not being” or “not doing” can uproot it. Also when we begin to go down this path, we start to judge and condemn others who do not outwardly conform to what we have established as the standard or the true definition of XYZ. Countless things are crying out to steal our true identity, I can so easily get my identity from being a wife, a stay at home mom, a homeschooler or a sister. This leads to an identity crisis and steals from the joy of my true identity flowing into these above-mentioned things. Imagine the transformation of my marriage when I don’t find my identity in it? I will not find myself in a rut of performance making it seem as though I have it altogether. I will be freed from the pressure of the watching eye to keep up my ‘perfections’. What a joy to know I can rest in the all-sufficient grace of the Lord even for when I fail as a wife and continue to depend on Him in my striving to be a wife that brings Him glory. It’s no longer about me, It’s all about Him!

That’s liberation!

The post I Parted With My Fro appeared first on Proverbs 31.