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	<title>identity Archives - Proverbs 31</title>
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	<description>A woman after God&#039;s own heart</description>
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		<title>I Am An African</title>
		<link>https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2017/05/25/i-am-an-african/</link>
					<comments>https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2017/05/25/i-am-an-african/?noamp=mobile#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Leanne Johnson]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Thu, 25 May 2017 17:30:23 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Identity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[african]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[church]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[identity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[race]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.proverbs31.co.za/?p=1152</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>As you read this, a mental image has immediately formed in your mind. You are just missing specifics for a fuller picture. Is she Zulu or Xhosa, Pedi or Sotho? Perhaps your thinking extends beyond South Africa’s borders to Malawi, Zambia or Zimbabwe? </p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2017/05/25/i-am-an-african/">I Am An African</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za">Proverbs 31</a>.</p>
]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p class="font_8">I am an African. As you read this, a mental image has immediately formed in your mind. You are just missing specifics for a fuller picture. Is she Zulu or Xhosa, Pedi or Sotho? Perhaps your thinking extends beyond South Africa’s borders to Malawi, Zambia or Zimbabwe?</p>
<p class="font_8">I am an African woman.</p>
<p class="font_8">I am an African woman who is white.</p>
<p class="font_8">If you are a black African woman, I can see your nostrils flare and smoke coming out of your ears as you indignantly whisper<em> ‘How dare she call herself African!!’</em></p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p class="font_8">I am an African Woman.</p>
<p class="font_8">I was born in Africa and have lived here all my life.</p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p class="font_8">I was born in the summer of ’69, [the only significance of this is that it is the title of a Bryan Adams song].</p>
<p class="font_8">I am a product of growing up under the Apartheid regime on the side of white privilege.</p>
<p class="font_8">My birthplace is a little town called Queenstown in the Eastern Cape.</p>
<p class="font_8">I have lived in South Africa, Uganda and Rwanda.</p>
<p class="font_8">I am an African woman.</p>
<div class="w-line">I was born on African soil. Four generations before me were born on African soil. What else can I call myself? What identity am I entitled to?</div>
<p class="font_8">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].</p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p class="font_8">The Cape Malays have a rich food culture and lingo.</p>
<p class="font_8">The Afrikaners have koeksusters, melktert, braaivleis and rugby.</p>
<p class="font_8">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?</p>
<p class="font_8">Thabiti Anyabwile has so transformed my thinking on this idea of racial identity. His premise is the following: <em>‘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.’</em></p>
<p class="font_8">He goes on further to explain that there is one Biblical story. We are one human race descended from Adam.</p>
<p class="font_8">In Genesis 3, Eve is called the mother of all living.</p>
<p class="font_8">After the flood, the rest of humanity descended from Noah and his sons.</p>
<p class="font_8">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. <em>‘As Christians, we need a thorough rethinking of anthropology… We need some truth-telling in a vigorous Biblical way.’ </em></p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p class="font_8">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:</p>
<p class="font_8">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&#8217;s, then you are Abraham&#8217;s offspring, heirs according to promise.[Galatians3:28-29]</p>
<p class="font_8">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]</p>
<p class="font_8">Where does that leave you and me?</p>
<p class="font_8">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.’</p>
<p class="font_8">Tim Keller articulates this so clearly: <em>‘Racial pride and cultural narrowness cannot co-exist with the gospel of grace. They are mutually exclusive.’</em></p>
<p class="font_8">Identity crisis? What crisis?</p>
<p class="font_8">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.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2017/05/25/i-am-an-african/">I Am An African</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za">Proverbs 31</a>.</p>
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		<title>Woke and Christian</title>
		<link>https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2016/12/14/woke-and-christian/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[el nyathi]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2016 08:05:07 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Christian Living]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[black]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[christian]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[identity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[woke]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.proverbs31.co.za/?p=1001</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>When it comes to black consciousness, I must confess, I should be the last person to school anyone . I mean, I grew up in</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2016/12/14/woke-and-christian/">Woke and Christian</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za">Proverbs 31</a>.</p>
]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>When it comes to black consciousness, I must confess, I should be the last person to school anyone . I mean, I grew up in what used to be typical ”white “suburbs- turned –“ black” suburbs as soon as more people of colour entered the neighbourhood.  I , of all people would be and should be the last to school anyone on what it means to be black and” conscious” especially because &#8211; to top it all, I am a member of an evangelical ‘reformed’ church lead by an elderly, white man from England.</p>
<p>Even so, with the English language ‘coming out of my nose’, so they say, and memories of sharing swimming pools and bathtubs with white friends as a child; I only awakened to the depth of black consciousness over the past year with all the racial tension that’s plagued our hurting nation.</p>
<p>I’m often saddened when walking the streets of down town Joburg and seeing inequality spread out like a quilt carefully crafted to depict the aftermath of apartheid and a struggling black nation trying to find itself.</p>
<p>For the longest time I’ve suffered in silence about an awkwardness that I could not explain. I have a good education and I ‘<em>speak well’ (speak well is essentially a bigot term used to identify people who aren’t English, but still speak the language without a heavy accent – usually given as a compliment)</em>. I am pursuing my dreams. I have a job. There are opportunities open to me. But I feel … lesser than. I’m good, yes, but just not good enough. I can do a lot of things…but just not in this skin. Looking back, the words of the American singer and songwriter Solange with her new song ‘ Cranes in the Sky’  helped me to at least direct my articulation on what this crippling thing could be. It’s a beautiful song about attempts in conquering private pain.</p>
<p>I tried many straining things to help me get a grip on who I am and what my purpose is. But this metal cloud would hover over me like an eagle marking its target. I eventually tried praying this thing away and applying the band aid of “my identity is in Christ’ without applying myself to what that truly means. It sounds so holy and right. Often I’d repeat, “ it doesn’t matter what my culture is, my Christian culture is all that’s important”.  Be that as it may, this thing is still ever with me and I want to rant and rave it away alongside the young activists making fees and statues fall. This thing is thick with injustice; full with unrighteousness and swollen with anger.</p>
<blockquote><p>Black anger is legit. Black anger is somewhat righteous. Being physically, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually oppressed by another people for centuries is no small thing. It affects all black South Africans today in one way or another. It affects me, even in all my cosmopolitan-ness and good education-ness. It’s almost in our DNA.</p></blockquote>
<p>This thing wants justice. My oppressed head, heart and heritage needs redemption. It just might not be the kind most are looking for. No. The justice that will prevail over the land is far greater than anything we can think or imagine.</p>
<p>As a Christian I believe in a Savior who did not come to judge the world but save it. God’s desire in renewing all things is all encompassing, from peoples to social systems. Truth is, when sin entered the world, it did not just affect people but all of creation. The beauty of diversity in all our different cultures that we see glorifying God in Revelation 7 has been tainted by the fall and with it came social systems and injustices that marred the <em>imago dei</em>.  However, the glorious gospel affirms that all will be made right. Justice will prevail.  All will be accounted for. Not necessary by me, but by God himself. I can do my part here and there and my part counts, but ultimately, perfect justice will come from the only Just One.</p>
<p>Any past, present or future injustice will never go unnoticed or unpunished. God cares about it all and not just on a high level but even when we are robbed of change in a taxi or undermined at work for following procedures with all integrity &#8211; all these little and big hurts will be accounted for…by Jesus.</p>
<p>The gospel is such a game changer in that it isn’t a religious movement or a political ideal. Christ’s transformative power found in the gospel deals with the heart of a person and the heart of the matter. It deals with the inner being that is shaped and influenced by cultural movements, yes, but it also transcends it.</p>
<p>The gospel has no ties with being Jew or Greek, a slave or freeman, male or female…black or white, although it does not make those distinctions disappear (Gal 3v28). The human soul was made to glory in God; to be in constant awe of Him; to be satisfied in Him and enjoy him forever. This comes with obeying His holy word that instructs the soul – housed by various cultures – to love Him and believe in Him and all He has promised. The gospel is the sweetest answer to all injustice because the sin and guilt of the world was thrust upon Jesus.</p>
<p>We are able to look upon whoever who continues to oppress us knowingly or unknowingly today with love that only God Himself can give. As C.S Lewis puts it ,”<em>It’s loving another self because it is a self (like us) made by God. “And</em> since we all know how much punishment we deserve for our secret racial or non-racial sins, we should be able to resonate with the grace our fellow South Africans need even though some might not know they need it yet.</p>
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<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2016/12/14/woke-and-christian/">Woke and Christian</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za">Proverbs 31</a>.</p>
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		<title>Accepted, Loved!</title>
		<link>https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2016/03/23/accepted-loved/</link>
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		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Proverbs 31]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 23 Mar 2016 10:14:46 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[testimony]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[accepted]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grace]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[identity]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[loved]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[redemption]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[salvation]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.proverbs31.co.za/?p=896</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>I grew up on a tea plantation in southern Malawi. I loved the fresh air and freedom, but from about age six, I was being sexually molested by the guards at our house and then later, a cook. I don't know why I was afraid to tell my parents, but it left me twisted inside in many ways. I felt as though I wasn't good enough for the people around me. I started withdrawing within. I remember hearing one of my mother's friends say of me "this one is not as friendly as her sister". I spent many nights crying, my swollen eyes were becoming a regular, normal sight.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2016/03/23/accepted-loved/">Accepted, Loved!</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za">Proverbs 31</a>.</p>
]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>[eltdf_dropcaps type=&#8221;normal&#8221; color=&#8221;&#8221; background_color=&#8221;&#8221;]I[/eltdf_dropcaps] grew up on a tea plantation in southern Malawi. I loved the fresh air and freedom, but from about age six, I was being sexually molested by the guards at our house and then later, a cook. I don&#8217;t know why I was afraid to tell my parents, but it left me twisted inside in many ways. I felt as though I wasn&#8217;t good enough for the people around me. I started withdrawing within. I remember hearing one of my mother&#8217;s friends say of me &#8220;this one is not as friendly as her sister&#8221;. I spent many nights crying, my swollen eyes were becoming a regular, normal sight.</p>
<p>In school, I did well academically, but I always felt I was different. I started dating guys while in secondary school, and it became like a crutch to me. I was getting some sort of acceptance from these childish relationships. I belonged. The relationships always ended, and I always moved on to the next person.</p>
<p>I went to study engineering at University. I wanted to do great things, and at the time, being an engineer seemed great enough. I wanted to be someone that made people smile and approve of. My father spoke with much satisfaction and contentment of such people. How I wished he spoke such of me. Perhaps he would though, if I became an engineer. Yet a part of me was giving up, the load I carried was too heavy to drag 5 years through university. It was too long a journey. I was not going to make it.</p>
<p>Adding on to that, a boyfriend I had been dating for 4 years, since secondary school, died in a car accident. That was, I suppose the straw that broke the camel&#8217;s back; more specifically the end of my attempting to salvage my life. The darkest cave I have ever been in, and I went back to the usual smile by day, cry by night routine. I still wanted deep down inside, more than anything, to be liked and approved of and accepted.</p>
<p>A relative at the university got concerned by my permanently puffy eyes. She visited my room and told me about God. She then later took me to a SCOM (Students Christian organization of Malawi) meeting, where I got to hear more about God, and pray with people. [eltdf_blockquote text=&#8221;I &#8220;received&#8221; Christ and got &#8220;saved&#8221;. I had always known about God. My father said he didn&#8217;t believe in God, but my mum dragged us to church on many Sundays, so I was very aware of the existence of a creator. I had just never thought of calling out to Him throughout my years of emptiness and feeling like dirt.&#8221; title_tag=&#8221;h2&#8243; width=&#8221;&#8221;] I only went to church to avoid provoking my mother, but I counted the minutes until service ended. To me church was just dead boring routines and actions I had to endure on the Sundays that we did go to church.</p>
<p>In University, this SCOM, was much more vibrant and alive. You were encouraged to participate. I sang on stage; and prayed with and for people. It was a welcoming environment. It was in a way, what I was yearning for. I was still depressed, but perhaps with all the activities it offered, I had less time to wallow in my woes.</p>
<p>I still decided to quit the engineering course. I attended class but had stopped taking notes, stopped studying; bracing myself for the dropout. I was afraid of what my father would say. How would he handle me dropping out of university? Well, when it did happen, he suggested we talk to a professor friend of his who worked at the university; he wanted to ask him to help me back in. I refused. I was done with that chapter.</p>
<p>Two years later I went to the UK on a working holiday. I tried to extend my stay when my visa expired but my application was denied. I took advice from a friend to stay on illegally. I had joined a vibrant church from the time I arrived there and became very active in the church. The people around really helped me with my depression. I was healed. I was freed from many of my fears. God was truly at work in my life. I was still resisting yielding everything though.</p>
<p>All the while I heard a nagging voice in my heart pointing out to me how judgmental I was of other people. Other sinners. By the time I realized I had actually done all the things I was judging others for, I had lived illegally for almost a year in the UK. I was aware of every day I stayed there breaking the law of the land. Yet I didn&#8217;t want to come back home. I was stuck. I was not supposed to be in this country. But back home I felt my parents despised me.</p>
<p>I got disturbed by certain things in the church in the UK that seemed to go against the word of God in the bible. When I brought it up to the pastor, he got very angry. I got scared and stopped going to church. This was the place I had found healing and a new family and God. I let it all go, and I remember packing even my bible away saying “God if that&#8217;s what You are really like, I want nothing to do with You&#8221;. I went a month without praying. Then a nightmare had me cry out &#8220;Jesus!&#8221; and I knew then I couldn&#8217;t live without Him.</p>
<p>I had had enough of the guilt of living and working illegally, so one day I walked into a police station and asked to see an immigration officer. I told them I was there illegally. I asked if there was a chance they could just make me legal, I had a few debts that I needed to work and pay for. The immigration officer asked if I was in any danger at home. I said no. He then said I will have to send you back home. You will have to apply to return from your home country.</p>
<p>It was a long flight back home. I had disappointed many people instead of getting approval and acceptance. My family, friends in the UK, my pastor, God. I wrote in my bible, the only thing I chose to take( or I felt worthy enough to take) back to my home country with me( as the immigration people had offered to have someone bring my belongings, but I just felt unworthy of taking anything); I wrote &#8221; <em>truly oh Lord you are displeased with wrong doing. Thank You for Your tender mercies oh Lord</em>&#8220;. The date on it is 28/02/08. I think that was the first time I truly realized I had wronged God. All along I saw myself as a victim of sexual abuse. Then a victim of hatred from people I couldn&#8217;t fit in with because I felt too dirty; people who misunderstood me. A victim needing a savior. I thought that&#8217;s what I was saved from when I &#8220;felt&#8221; saved. But now in this shameful flight back home I saw how I had done everything I judged other people for: the staying illegally in a country, the using dating relationships as a drug to avoid facing my life, looking for someone to accept and approve of me. All <em>reactions</em> of a victim perhaps, but very much the <em>actions</em> of a sinner against God. On that flight I saw that for the first time in my life. Six years of thinking I was saved; saved from being a victim; I was actually being saved from being sinner, Romans3 verse23 applied to me too! I always thought my case was different. I realized, without Christ I am full of sin using my being a victim as my eternal excuse, yet all the while sinning against God. For whatever reason I sin, however justifiable it is in my eyes, the truth remains, God is not pleased with wrongdoing, Psalm 5 verse 4, no matter what face or excuse the wrongdoing wears. The wages of sin is death, Romans 6 verse 23, and on my own, my attempts to heal and sort out my life had ended up achieving the exact opposite. O top of it all, ended up sinning against God. I was indeed in need of a savior. But this time it was not salvation from an abusive past, a dirty soul. I needed salvation from a sinful heart and sinful hands.</p>
<p>All these years I had heard and read and even shared with others that Christ died for our sins, yet I had never really seen my sin. I had occasional faults and disobedience, yes, but I was in my mind justified because of what had happened to me.</p>
<p><em>Lord You hung on the cross for sinners. Save me from my sin. Have mercy on me.</em></p>
<p>I arrived home with my head hung low but my life was just beginning in a real new walk with God. I have seen God&#8217;s mercy, His grace, His attention to the details in my life. I have seen God untangle many twisted areas in my heart. And it is so real, I don&#8217;t have to pretend to fit in, or hide anymore. But most importantly I have seen God lead my life. He really took me out of the miry clay of a mess I had made and set my feet upon a rock. And He has put in me a desire to obey His word and seek to please Him, which is a fight in itself, but Christ who has already won the victory, is right here with me.</p>
<p>Now I am not perfect, but I am very aware that my life is in His hands. He leads, cares for me, corrects, protects and provides for me. I am eternally His. He is working on me. I can be sure He will keep me, and I have much hope in His saving and keeping my children. John 3 verse 16: <em>for God so loved the world, that He gave His only son, that whosoever believes in him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life</em>. God&#8217;s free love and grace: that&#8217;s more than all the approval and acceptance I will ever need.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za/2016/03/23/accepted-loved/">Accepted, Loved!</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://www.proverbs31.co.za">Proverbs 31</a>.</p>
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