Friday, March 23, 2012

The purity of our daughters...

I often tell my daughter the story of the apple. How I was this half rotten apple the day I met her daddy, and how long it took me to heal inside our marriage. Instead of growing together with my husband, I had a lot of healing to do first before we could grow together. How I wish I have had these conversations with my mother, that Liza and I are now having. But I can not go back in time. The only time I have is now. The only conversations I can have are the ones we have now! The time to educate and love and preserve is now. I can not talk to my daughter about these things on her wedding night, then it will be too late.

So, Liza and I talk a lot about boyfriends and girls stuff. I really try to teach her, from my broken background, that purity is important. That preserving yourself for Mr Right is the right thing to do.
Recently I read a friend's blog post about preserving our children's purity. And then I read another girl's story, although fictional, it could have been true.
Why didn't anyone bother to teach me just how important purity was?
But I am sure as apples going to teach my daughters just that!

Purity bracelet

And this will be a perfect gift for a thirteenth birthday. Couldn't quite afford the precious stones, but it is made with lots of love and care for a very special daughter!

Here is where I got my inspiration from....

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Miracles and honey bees.

It is the first rainy day of autumn. I drive to the bee keeper's home. I lost his phone number, didn't call before arriving. I need that stuff that miracles are made of, not expecting to find a miracle myself.
He is not at home, but his elderly mother invites me in and puts on the kettle. Who on earth makes tea for a total stranger who comes to buy sweetness and healing for a sick child. I promised her mother this healing stuff ages ago, and only now got around to get in the car and drive to the bee man.
A shuffle at the door announces his return, I feel comfortably uncomfortable in his house chatting away with his mother so kind. I ask for the honey and the miracle stuff.
Then the unthinkable. The bee keeper tells me he has no propolis. No propolis. My heart falls to the ground. This can not be. This is the day of the miracle my soul shouts. This is the day I help this little girl. This is the day I keep my promise. He assures me he has none. He gave it all to his friend who struggled to get his bee farming going. But anyways he walks out to the shop. Comes back later, there is definitely nothing, he gave away all he had.
I sit there, trying to drink tea that is way too hot to swallow, making conversation, I see him walking out again, coming back empty handed. And I sit as if I have nowhere to go, as if I have no children to tend to. He calls his worker to go look for some of the black sticky stuff... no news. We talk some more and I start to tell them the story of little Zoë and how we met and why I need the propolis. The bee keeper walks out for the fourth time, I turn to my friendly hostess and tell her that I think he will find it now, and we talk some more. Here, alles werk ten goede mee vir die wat op U vertrou, ek is nie verniet hier nie. And I sit and swallow hot tea and perspiration forms on my face, and he comes back with a bag full of miracle and my heart and soul jumps ek het gewéét U kan dit doen! I take the black stuff in both my hands, feel how it softens with my touch and I say eucharisteo thank You like I've never said it before. Dankie dankie dankie. Eyes tearing up I thank the bee keeper and his mother and my Father. Our God is so awesome. On days like this I have to catch my breath and tell my head to never forget His faithfulness!

Propolis in its raw natural form.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Keep counting...

So we might be seeing these days again. But through counting gifts I have learnt Who I can count on. And He Who can be counted on is already opening the doors and I keep counting the gifts...

#1803 new dish cloths
#1804 eight days of fasting
#1805 back to school
#1806 a conversation with my Joe
#1807 salary reviews
#1809 the green pepper

And then I read about turning a life around and I know what counting has done in my life, and then, these words:
Forget to give thanks — and Who you forget is God.
Later I go to bed and turn pages and found these words hidden in 2 Timothy 3 "This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy..." Unthankful!? There it is, right among sin, not giving thanks, forgetting to give thanks, forgetting that there is a Father that gives good things to them that ask Him? Matt 7:11 And suddenly I forget to give thanks and think on all that I didn't do in the good months and now we look ahead again at months to come where there will be less.

#1816 Thank You for times to remember to give thanks and to know You are good and You are always good and always give good gifts.

I just need to remember to slow and see and count and number all the blessings every day...

Count with me...

the ways He loves...

one thousand eight hundred and sixteen ways He loves always...

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