Keeping Time ...

Our church worship team - my son, the bass guitarist is on the right and his wif, is in the middle centre; I'm at the back behind my keyboard with the new drummer to my left

I’ve always been involved in music... church music.

In the sixties, my sister and I played the wind-operated pedal organ in our little country church when the regular organist was indisposed or on leave. Two pre-teenagers who shared absolutely everything, one Sunday we decided to share the hymns for the service. This was no problem except that I was not as diligent about practising as my sister. When the congregation rose to sing one of the more difficult hymns, I told my sister to play it although it was my song. Even though we were very close, we had our differences and this time was no exception! My younger sibling insisted that it was MY song and that I play it. So we argued back and forth for a minute while the congregation waited for the accompaniment to begin. Eventually the minister realised what was happening and told us to “get on with it and start the hymn” which one of us did immediately (I cannot remember who!)

Time went by; I grew up and as a married woman, I was the church organist for about thirty years. However, it was only at the beginning of 2007, when my son’s fiancé (now my younger daughter-in-law) the worship leader in the church, invited me to play the piano keyboard in the band in this church. Soon after this, my younger son took up guitar lessons and is the bass guitarist in the band. My older son was the drummer. As if that's not enough (!), my older daughter-in-law was in charge of “Open Song” which meant she operated a computer at the back of the church ensuring that the text and graphics were projected onto the wall behind us musicians. This “family affair” came to an end when my older son and his family moved to Y-WAM a while ago.

As a conventional church organist I was always on my own. As part of the worship team in a Bible-based church, I experience unity and I have a ministry. I also have a challenge. I have to WALK the walk and not just talk the talk when it comes to my faith. The Lord doesn’t want my talents or my time, he wants me to draw closer to Him and get to know Him better. (“I want you to be merciful; I don’t want your sacrifices. I want you to know God; that’s more important than burnt offerings. “Hosea 6:6)

God doesn’t want me to hurt, slander and antagonise people. If I profess to have the Lord Jesus as my Saviour, I must excersise discipline, I must guard my tongue and I must show love and mercy to all people at all times. (“No, O people, the Lord has already told you what is good, and this is what he requires: to do what is right, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." Michah 6:8)

You see, as a committed Christian I need to show mercy, love and tolerance to everyone while at the same time, I need to get to know God better.

I have to "keep time" and stay in God's will so that my ministry is not null and void.

May God bless you in your specific ministry.

Back to School!

The much-thumbed instruction book in the middle. An extra book is on the right, while the very important learner's licence certificate is on the left!

My pristine motorbike (front) waiting for me to ride it!

One would think that by the time you reach your fifties, writing tests would be anightmare relegated to the past. Not me. Two years ago, when I returned home after working in West Africa (more about this in a future post), I decided to brush up my knowledge of the ethnic language spoken in the Free State. I signed up for a course in SeSotho and began as a Grade 3 pupil. At the end of the first year, I wrote an exam and after swotting very hard, I passed. I’m now a Grade 5 pupil and continue to learn Sesotho much to the relief of my house- and garden staff!

In February this year, my husband bought me a motorbike for my birthday. For our family, this is not a strange thing. We bought our first motor bike - a Harley Davidson 1200 Sportster - in 2002 and travelled all over the country on it. Eighteen months ago, I wanted to surprise my husband when he returned home on break and bought him a BMW 1200 GS with very low mileage. Six months later we replaced it with a brand-new model and have travelled extensively on this very comfortable road bike.

I digress; as I said, earlier this year hubby bought me a motorbike to use around town. It is not as huge or powerful as his but it is shiny, it's red and it's very new. It's new because I’ve not actually ridden it yet. And the reason why I’ve not ridden it is that I do not have a motorbike licence!

Garnering courage, I finally booked an appointment for a learners licence and then I began to learn. I used the three weeks at my disposal to learn everything in the K53 book albeit parrot-fashion. I think I drove my family (two sons and two daughters-in-law have recently passed their motorbike learner’s licences) and my husband crazy! At every opportunity, I’d corner them and ask them whether I’d be asked this or that question. On one occasion I asked my hubby what I have to do when I want to make a right turn. His answer: (remember: he’s being riding motorbikes since he was about twelve!) “You give the accelerator a good ‘blip’, turn the handlebars and roar off in the new direction.” (Biker-speak "blip" = accelerate even more) Ha!

On the day of the test, I had to be at the motor vehicle testing office by 7.30am. The sturdily-built examining officer eventually arrived at 8.20am (this is Africa, Africa time prevails) He called us into the exam room and stalking around smacking a stick against his thigh to accentuate his words (the stick was like the one teachers used when I was at school, to point out things on the blackboard and every so often, to wake a dreaming learner ), he rattled off the rules of the exam: "All handbags in the corner, (thwack!) cell /mobile phones turned off (thwack!), and placed (thwack!) on my table" (thwack!). "If I catch you cribbing (thwack!), I'll confiscate your paper (thwack!) and you'll be (thwack!) banned from ever(thwack!) writing your learner's licence" (thwack, thwack!) .

Eventually, he placed the forms in front of us, and said: "Don't (thwack!) touch your forms until I (thwack!) tell you to" You start at (thwack!) 8.30 and you have (thwack!) one hour, I repeat (thwack!) one hour!(thwack, thwack!)" All eyes were on the clock on the wall which seemed maddeningly slow this morning. As the long hand reached the six, he said: (sotto voce, this time!) "You may begin" Once I started to do the test, all my “knowledge” (ha!) came flowing out of my brain into my fingertips. An hour later I handed my paper in, and was told to wait in the outer office. At 10.15 he came out with my form (I was the only one of two candidates who had passed) and I had to make two thumbprints on it. Then I stood in the queue and eventually (at 10.45) when I reached the front and handed my form in, it was processed and viola! I had my learner’s licence!

I now have eighteen months to learn how to ride my motorbike and go for the practical riding test.

One thing I’ve realised about this test: I’ve been driving in South Africa for almost forty years and only NOW I know what most of the road signs mean! Perhaps it should be compulsory for anyone over 45 to re-write this test...

Family Wedding Celebrations

The bride and groom before the wedding; here they were quite nervous!

This weekend my husband and I motored down to Durban the East Coast city of Kwa-Zulu Natal to attend a close family wedding. Now since I have two sons and both are married, who on earth could have got married? None other than my mother-in-law! Yes, at 80, she has married again. She has been widowed for twelve years and we are delighted that she has found love and happiness in her golden years.

My mother-in-law has never been an “old” woman. Even when I met my husband (while we were both at high school) and kids thought parents were middle-aged, my mother-in-law was not! She 'd attend school functions beautifully made-up, wearing a little black number, poised on stilettos and with her blonde hair in a fashionable chignon.

Well, last Friday, forty years later, was no different; she looked just as elegant and slim as I’ve always known her to be. (Still wearing stilletos!)

My mother-in-law poses with her youngest sister

Wedding vows

The wedding was conducted in the minister’s home. My mother-in-law's youngest sister also attended the ceremony. She is the matron of the Home for the Aged, where the happy couple met and fell in love. The husband and wife clergy shared the proceedings and afterwards we all enjoyed a lovely wedding tea in their home.

Old-marrieds (hubby and I) pose with the newly-weds!

A blessed day in our lives; we feel a lot more relaxed knowing my mother-in-law is being cared for by a man who loves her very much.