cracking under pressure.

i got both of these photos in my email today. one is of my friend stephen in russia. the other is of my parents at 1:15 saturday morning. who of these seems to be cracking under the pressure??? cast your vote now :)

is this true? a friend sent it to me. maybe one of my native american, internet-using friends will tell me if it's true or not :)

Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of passage? His dad takes him into the forest - blindfolded -and leaves him.

He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not take off the blindfold until the ray of sun shines through it. He is all by himself. He cannot cry out for help to anyone.

Once he survives the night he is a MAN. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience. Each lad must come into his own manhood.

The boy was terrified. He could hear all kinds of noise. Beasts were all around him. Maybe even some human would hurt him. The wind blew the grass and and it shook his stump.

But he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It was the only way he could become a man.

Finally, after a horrific night, the sound of the night disappeared. He could feel the warmth of the sun. He removed his blindfold.

It was then that he saw his father - sitting on the stump next to him - on watch the entire night.

We are never alone. Even when we do not know it, our Father is protecting us. He is sitting on the stump beside us.
All we have to do is take off our blindfolds.

my newest child. his name is cowen. he's the first kid in capricorn who seems to understand my afrikaans speaking!!!!!!!!



did i ever show you what avril did to me??? this is what happens when you get engaged in cape town, south africa. their version of a wedding shower is to embarass the heck out of you. this is a picture of me begging for money outside a local mcdonald's.



while on our trip to the eastern cape, we stopped in the CREEPY town and ended up eating at an even CREEPIER restaurant. it was this very afrikaans meets colonial meets antique store meets new-age-fountains-that-let-out-smoke meets i-can't-believe-places-like-this-still-exist place. believe me, we got out of there as fast as we could. it took me a long time to get back to normal. this is a picture of me doing my famous nervous laugh!!



ryan eating cheese with a little bit of chili!!!! be proud, family! we are eating well :)

oprah update.

cape times excerpt, thursday, july 26th, 2007

"talk might be cheap, but oprah is not, TOPPING the list of the highest-paid television stars in the united states. oprah winfrey, host and supervising producer of the oprah winfrey show, earns an estimated $260 million a year, according to a list in TV Guide Magazine's July 23 issue."

just thinking back...

one family's tears.

Psalm 3:8 -- "from the LORD comes deliverance."

i've walked into this house hundreds of times before. i know that i can pull up halfway on the curb and still leave plenty of room for people to walk on the sidewalk. i know i must duck quite a bit as i enter the yard in order to avoid knocking my head on the wooden beam atop their fence -- a fence made of slabs of metal and tin, aligned with rotting wooden beams & held together with rusty nails. i know that when it has rained heavily, i must step carefully through the gate because a huge puddle awaits me on the other side.

i know that the piles of wood and rubble and rubbish in the yard move around but nothing really comes of them all. i know that entering the house requires walking up 2 steps, but never requires opening the front door--it's alway open. i know that the children of capricorn find through that open door a woman with an open heart. this woman, auntie margaret, shares her heart with the suffering of the world. she has no job, no flow of income, no human resources department or medical aid, nothing we define as "security". but she's got a heart of gold and the honesty of a true woman of god. and those two traits make her one of the greatest people i've ever met.

auntie m is a high-spirited, fiery force in capricorn. she sees it all. she knows everyone, and everyone knows her as "ma". but lately she hasn't been herself. most days i find her in bed or in tears: her body aches, her lungs hurt, her head throbs, her knees lock. she's coming down with something and it scares her.

she's been in and out of the hospital this past week. diagnosed with asthma, tested for HIV, believed to have tuberculosis--she's still not convinced. waiting for answers is making the whole family more nervous and on edge as they now see their servant-hearted, energetic mother lying in bed day after day as tears gently roll down her deep, dark, worn cheek.

"ashley! come now! auntie margaret is very sick!" i hear this today as i pick up the phone. once i arrived at her house, the pain had reached such a level that she was a nervous wreck: crying, getting angry, screaming to God for help. i sat with her, rubbing the back of a woman so strong but now so weak, feeling the bones protruding from her frail body.i watched as she went in and out of sleep. i rocked her screaming grandson so that there was one less noise in her house.

the ambulance was nothing but skeptical upon arrival (3 hours later). question after disbelieving question tore to the core of auntie m's deteriorating spirit. as she became more and more upset, the attention of the paramedics heightened. she was taken to the local clinic where she would hopefully (but unrealistically hopefully) be sent to a state hospital that could tend to her needs more specifically.

as soon as she left the house, her oldest daughter (stephie) threw the knife and carrot she had been slicing onto the dusty kitchen counter and threw herself on the bed, replacing her mother's cries for help with her own tears and wailing. i sat with stephie and put my hands on her head and back, knowing that a loving human touch in this time of pain would bring a deeper level of the expression of fear and hurt she was trying to hide. she lost it and this 17-year-old mother of two wept into her pillow as i rubbed her back and held her close, listening to the water boiling on the kitchen stove. i thought to myself as i often do, "how long has it been since someone took this girl/mother/child (or whoever it is) and sat with them while they cried? have they EVER actually been loved and held as they wept, or are they used to doing this without any empathy given from others around.

as stephie's crying quietened to a low hum of ache, i noticed a second voice in the room in a similar state of pain. i saw auntie m's next daughter (berry) in the corner attempting to wash her arms and face in a small pail of water. her body shook as she worked, trying to keep herself busy while she cried...unlike her older sister who threw everything aside when her own tears started.

i called berry over and she collapsed at my side, her head falling into my lap. for the next 20 minutes her crying didn't lessen or change: just deep, deep sobs over a life of hardship and a mother whose fate seemed so uncertain to this little girl. with her 13th birthday coming tomorrow, maybe she thought to herself that just having her mom well was the only gift worth wishing for.

time passed and before i knew it, my phone rang. all 7 of us piled into my car and raced to the clinic to fetch "ma". the hospital wouldn't help her. welcome to south africa.

i ask for you to pray for this woman. she's too valuable to loose now. she's too imperative to the well-being of too many people. as she said while we pulled away from the clinic, "i know god has something big in store for me because i stay on his side. i know he is with me."

(auntie m has no carpet in her concrete home. two mattresses for her, her husband, her 5 children, her two grandchildren, and the boy mingo she houses. there are maybe 4 or 5 blankets to go around. she doesn't have a heater and the weather here is unbelievably cold. the warmth of love that might overflow from your hearts as you read about auntie m today can be channeled into a tangible warmth she and her family can feel. if you feel led to help this woman, let me know what is being laid on your heart. god bless you for your warmth.)

so many thoughts #3: i'm starting to get angry every time i watch Oprah

sorry for you many many friends and family who love her....and i once did too....but the woman is getting a bit too big for her britches. i actually feel angry rising in me when i watch this show now. is it just me and ryan, or has she gotten too sassy? she's either going through some mid-life thing, whatever happens to people when they get old and stop giving a rip what they say out loud OR she's just got too much money, too much fame, and too much power for her own good. surely we can find biblical backing for the fact that money, power, and love of self makes one a bit looney and, for lack of a better word, mean.

i know, i know. she's gives people cars and houses and educations and all that stuff. she reunites mothers with their children. she opens the worlds eyes to the power of doing something for others. i see her "good" qualities. i see them.

but i think of that verse about how the Lord loves a cheerful giver. can we really see much "cheer" on that face or in that tone of voice anymore? or is it just the oprah that africa sees? cause i'm convinced she's lost track of what she was doing for so long...loving people, bringing good into the world, standing for something, giving an example to others with wealth and fame.

last night sealed the deal in my mind. the show was about this homeless dude who lives on the streets of los angeles. he was asked by some froo-froo white dude with alot of money if he could film a documentary (called "reversal of fortune") about this man's life of survival and self-reliance on the street. the man agreed.

every day this man works as a recycler. he goes to the local garbage bins and collects cans to sell for money. he says he makes about $20 per day.

he passed a drug test, a psychiatric evaluation, and a basic character assessment, all finding him to be competent and responsible, or as the filmmaker said, "middle of the road, a case we cannot predict."

so, eachday the film people follow him around. and then one day, they plant a brifcase with $100,000 U.S. dollars and a note that says "what happens when a homeless man receives $100,000.00"?. already this is stinking to high-heaven.

the show goes through how ted rodrigue, the homeless man, spends his money. now, granted he doesn't invest it so wisely. he apparently turned down financial planning offers and counseling by the man with the camera. ted bought himself a truck, as well as someone else a car. he hooked up with a woman, spent ALL his money on stuff and his girl, and came up with nothing to show for it, not even the woman. she left him when the money ran out.

in ted's own words, "i'm more in debt now than before i got the money. i wish i had never had it in the first place." oprah cannot seem to understand this, as well as the film man. they are both basically attacking ted for his financial negligence, his frivolous spending, and his desire to "give his money away" (correct me if i'm wrong, ms. winfrey...but who could he have likely learned that from in our modern world?).

ted opens up his hard, angry, embarassed heart to the entire nation: "i don't trust anyone... i'm not happy but i'm contented...my heart is so hard, i don't want anyone else coming in". how has this "social experiment" (as the film man called it") bettered ted's life? how has it led him to healing? how has it not just validated all the crap he's been through, self-inflicted or not, in his life? really, oprah, when did you switch sides in these life-stories? when did you stop giving people like ted a new house and a lot of money? not that it's what she should do at all, but when did she become so sympathetic with the one with the screwy ideas?

don't hate me, people. it's just my thoughts. i cannot help it. i don't think that moeny and ignorance are a good combination. what about giving ted love, consistency, a bit of a ladder to climb up? i belive the motive behind film man's documentary is best summed up, as is my frustration with oprah's confused motives as of late, in his ashley's-mind-blowing statement: "I learned that in providing somebody with the necessities to be able to turn their life around, a car, a telephone, a roof above their head, a driver's license, all the things that we hear is what somebody needs to be able to turn their life around, it still, unfortunately, in this particular case, was not enough."

so many thoughts #2: malcolm x

i just finished alex haley's book called "the autobiography of malcolm x". from @1959 until malcolm's death in (i think) 1964, haley became one of the few, and i mean FEW, people that malcolm x trusted with his life secrets and stories, as well as with the monumental task of compiling a book out of these deeply emotional and zealous opening-ups of x's mind and heart.
by the time the book was to be completed, malcolm x had long been burned (not literally) by the "black muslim" groups led by the claimed Messenger of Allah, Mr. Elijah Muhammad. he had taken his "hajj" to Mecca, which clearly marked the turn of his thinking in many ways: going from a zealous, angry african american "muslim", to a deeply orthodox, increasingly open-minded, angry african american muslim. his thinking (taught to him by mr. elijah muhammad) that all white people were "devils" shifted into an awareness that it wasn't the white man he hated and considered evil, but the systems and structures in america that allowed ANY race to think they were superior--and therefore maintain their way of living in that superiority--to another race. he began to come across scores of white people who respected him, who hated what had happened to the african race in america, and who wanted to join with him in changing the ways of thinking of so many whites at that time.

i just want to say that the book has stayed with me for many days. the first few were a bit hectic, including feelings of paranoia that i was being followed, as well as a deep anger at the countless poverty-stricken africans i live near to, the shacks i see everywhere, the clear line that still runs deep between white and black in this country. however, after these intense emotions subsided, and i started realizing I was not the one being chased by crazed gangsters-turned-"followers of elijah muhammad", i was able to really think about the book in a thankful, productive way.

it's incredible. it's challenging. it's heart-breaking. it's unlike anything else i've read. to quote spike lee, "the most important book i'll ever read. it changed the way i thought, it changed the way i acted. it has given me courage that i didn't know i had inside me. i'm one of the hundreds of thousands whose life was changed for the better."

so many thoughts #1: karakter

school started back yesterday after a 2 week holiday for the kids. for our grade 5 activity, we started a series of lessons on "karakter" ("charater" in english).

on the board, we drew a straight line. at the one end of the line we wrote the number "0", and the other end of the line had the number "100". next to the zero were the words "swak" (translated as "difficult" in english, but with a spiritual connotation, such as "it's so swak to walk through life without jesus") and the word "Satan". next to the one hundred mark, we wrote "sterk" ("strong"), and the name "Jesus".

therefore, "0" represented a bad character, one resembling Satan. "100" signified a strong character, perfect like Jesus.

we chose 3 different children in the class, two of whom had gotten into a fight on the playground just before we started class, and the third child was our dear friend carly boy. see a couple of previous blogs i've written if you don't recognize the name.

carly boy was the 3rd child to go up. we had seen the previous two kids rate their character as a bold 70 and 90--two kids who smoke and swear and are constantly breaking the school rules.

carly boy walks up, takes the piece of chalk, and circles "10". he sits back down at his desk. the teacher looks at me with a pained face and says "he has such a low sense of self-worth."

this moment really tore me up inside. i watched carly boy, i began studying his moves. i reminsced over the many encounters i have had with him recently that have been so painful and sad. i began to wonder about the truth of his self-assessment..."does he really side himself so closely with satan? and if so, why? what has happened in his own life that makes him believe he's innately such a bad kid?" that is absolutely heartbreaking if you really think about it.

take any child you know with a stable family, a regular school attendance, and no drug problem. pick the most "normal" ten year old you know. in your mind, envision them completing this task. would they also rate themselves a "10" out of "100"? most likely, the answer is no.

so, why does carly boy think this lowly of himself? is it just his honest, childlike truthfulness coming out...does he know the depth of his sinfulness in a way most adults try hiding from the world? is it because he smokes drugs and stays out late at night? is it due to his family who takes their anger out on him? maybe he is a bad kid after all, he wonders from time to time.

but what about the drug addiction and alcoholism around him? what about the fact that his house is a drug den and gangster haven? what about the fact that he doesn't have parents who encourage him and uplift him or spur him towards right living? what about the physical abuse his older brothers inflict upon him to release their own anger? what about the fact that he hangs out at the traffic light to get money instead of going home, because at home their isn't food anyways...much less people who get excited to see him like his regular "clients" by the traffic lights?

after school, i had a doctors appointment. early that morning, i had picked up a book in our house calld "Basic Child Psychiatry", thinking i might learn something useful about the lives of the kids i work with. and with god's divine insight, he led me to this page and these words...

"the quest for a sense of personal worth, so critical to small children, remains of central importance for human beings throughout their lives. it motivates much of our activity in seeking personal attachements and meaningful work...nothing is more important for the maintenance of well-being. conversely, no experience is more obviously distressing, or more intimately linked to emotional disturbances of many kinds and, in psychiatry, to various types of psychopathology, than is a diminised sense of worth or a low opinion of oneself.

for many disturbed children, a low measure of self-esteem is a central problem. this can be self-perpetuating or even self-reinforcing. as children act out their feelings of being 'bad' people, others in their environments may react by making critical remarsk of labelling them in one way or another, as inferior individuals.

so while we must look carefully at the background factors which have led to the situations we encounter when we assess disturbed children, we need also to consider the children's current views of themselves. we should strive to understand how these are being reinforced, or modified by their environments, in order to devise suitable treatment plans." (philip barker, 23-24)

i felt so convicted. how am i actually reinforcing carly boy's insecurities and sense of being a 'bad' person when i hold a grudge against him for being rude, or a judge him for being disrespectful. there is, of course, a need to teach kids these things, but how deep am i willing to let down my own assumptions and fears in order to see just where i can meet this child's paining heart?

as if these are any good, anyways.

but still, it's pictures. and we all know i apparently forgot how to use a camera lately.
no but seriously...i haven't been able to upload pictures in forever, so i'm just testing this with some pictures my friend sent from a recent event we did on Youth Day. it's a holiday in honor of the youth who were killed by apartheid police in sharpeville back in 1976. now we celebrate the power of the youth and their ability to make positive change in their communities.
here's me and john. john knew he was going to talk. i, on the other hand, came totally unaware. enjoy :)

seems like we don't even care.

yesterday i attended a meeting, the content of which was both inspiring and devastating. organized by living hope's social worker, the meeting was an attempt to bring together all the organizations working in the area so that networking can begin amongst us all.
it was interesting. i'm not sure how you measure success after a meeting like that. but it was very informative.

some of the things i learned devastated me. i'm just going to list them for you:
--in masiphumelele, a black township near to living hope's hopsice center, there is a group of 11-12 year old girls having sex with a group of 5-6 year old boys. from what i could gather, it was voluntarily happening on both sides. most of them have HIV.
--the department of social services which serves an area as big as brentwood, cool springs, and franklin combined doesn't even have an office in the area. the closest branch is some 20 miles away. include areas like capricorn, ocean view, masi, and red hill---four settlements in dire need of their own social services offices--and these people still would have to travel to file a basic claim or report for their safety.
--the representative from this deparment said that an emergency is defined as "a child's life being threatened or at risk". i laughed. first of all, how can you draw a line like this when you walk into a devastated community like capricorn, a place where every child is underclothed, undernourished, underloved, and likely the product of 2 drug-addicted or alcoholic parents, born to them under the age of 20? a place where kids get hit with candlesticks by their mom's, then sent out late at night to commit crimes which will bring in money for sugar and crystal meth--two necessities in capricorn homes. where mom's are too drunk most of the time to even notice that their 9 year old child hasn't come home in 6 months. a place where stepdads chase their stepchildren away in a drunken stupor, then try to have sex with those same kids if they come home and he's in a good mood.
how do you draw a line between "emergency" and "nonemergency" in a place such as this?
--the department of child welfare for these communities, known as CAFDA, is withdrawing (aka: shutting down) because they have had to compete for funds with the department of social services for so long that neither department can do anything effectively. that means that every family i know in capricorn with a social worker (all of whom are from CAFDA, assigned to the community members) gets lost in the battle for money. and this is supposed to help save kids lives?
--in the southern peninsula area (the area south of cape town, across to the 1 million member township of khayelitsha over to the large colored area of mitchell's plain, down through to muizenberg/capricorn, over the mountain to fish hoek, ocean view, and to the tip of south africa, there is (((((HEAR THIS))))) ONE social worker for every 13,000 cases.
--when asked if there is a way to speed up the process of referring an "emergency" to the department of social services, then actually seeing something, ANYTHING, happen (such as a home visit, phone call, police intervention, etc), the representative said, in essence, "nope".
"can we provide a social worker to do the home visit and then give you the report, perhaps speeding up the process?" (no.)


meanwhile, back in capricorn, rugshana, the mother of some kids i work with in muizenberg (3 of whom would rather live on the street or in prison that with their mother) is pregnant AGAIN by a man she hardly knows. after trying to get an abortion and finding out it's too late, she promises that she's going to give the kid up for adoption and that a family has already been lined up (this is a lie). when she told her her first son about the new baby, he said, (((((HEAR THIS)))))
"i will not even look at that baby. our family has 34 kids, not 35."

yes, that's right. there are 34 children in this family, all from different women. that's 34, soon to be 35, kids who don't have a mom and dad (mom's on tik, dad died 5 years ago), don't have a promise of family, don't have a future promised for them, don't even have a home (as in four walls and a roof) to begin life in.

and that's 35 extra "emergencies" for the department of social services to do nothing with. which led a man in the meeting to ask yesterday "where is the hope in that?"


i am listening to this jay-z song on repeat from his latest album, kingdom come. this song is one he wrote about hurricane katrina. this one part is running through my mind after that meeting and after the year and a half of live i've lived in south africa...
So many times I'm, covering my eyes
Peeking through my fingers
Tryin' to hide my, frustration at the way that we treat
Turn on the TV, seein' the pain
Sayin' such a shame
Then tryin' to go on with my life
Of that, I too, am guilty
So we send a lil' money, tell 'em it's alright
To be able to sleep at night
You will pay that price
While some of these folks' lost their whole life
Now it wasn't on the nightly news no more
Suddenly it didn't matter to you no more
In the end almost nothing changed
What the hell, what was that for?

auntie m.

i wish all of you could get a chance to know auntie margaret of #113 trevor siljeur road, capricorn. she's the fireball of the community. nothing comes in or out without her knowing since she lives at the main entrance to the community.

i got to know her through mingo, who lives with her during winters here. last winter i began visiting her once or twice a week. then when mingo left, i continued stopping by just to say hello and chat with her. she's fun to talk to.

she has alot of kids, both her own and other people's. she wants to open a children's home because she jokes that she's known as the one who opens her house to anyone. sometimes that gets her into trouble, but other times it really helps a child out.

her oldest is marvin, he's about 19. then comes stephie, she's 17. then there's sherlyn, who is about 12. then brutjie, he's maybe 6. and then there was tyron. tyron would have been two this coming august. instead, tyron died at 8 months of "food poisoning". he was in the hospital, and then in the grave within a week of being a normal, healthy baby boy.

i met auntie m 4 months after this happened. i knew she was a heavy drug addict, and i had issues with her taking in mingo and other kids who use drugs in her house. i thought she was one of those ladies who used the kids to run or buy her drugs for her. but that was before i got to know the story of tyron.

today was the second time i have taken her and the family to tend to the grave and put fresh flowers on it. each time she comes across some blooming beauties, she plans a time to go with me. and each time it's been the same. she starts with a vigorous cleaning and pruning of the the land. then she slows into a thoughtful pace. before too long, she's crying out in pain and anguish at the loss, franctically and unsuccessfully trying to scoop up excess dirt and debris and move it to the dirt pile around the back of the plots. anything to keep her from just standing still and feeling the fullness of her loss.

both times i have left in a total daze. her loss blows me away. her life breaks my heart. her daughter stephie just had her second child at the age of 16. and her little boy brutjie got hit by a taxi and suffers from brain damage.

this woman is an honor to have in my life. she is so strong. she still struggles everyday, but she is so hopeful. she likes to be prayed with. she finds strength in our friendship. she never ceases to show me the love she has for me.

i look at auntie margaret and i smile. just as the shoots of bright green grass sprout up through the dead ground of tyron's grave, so does her life and love burst out of the darkness of capricorn.

if you come to south africa, spend some time with this woman. she's a blessing. and she needs your prayers.

"it's great to be great, but it's greater to be human." --will rogers.

the letter 'm'

the other day i was in capricorn. a small girl named mckayla approached me. she is the niece of my little friend poem. as usual, she embraced my knees and looked up at me with her face covered in the stain from a local brand of tomato-flavored chips.

"swing me", she said in afrikaans. she loves when i grab her by the arms and twirl her around quickly. instead i just knelt down and gave her a big, long hug.

blinky's mother was standing next to me with her new baby girl in her arms. she was busy showing me how every child in capricorn has recently purchased her new caps she knits for 10 rand. it was true...i saw checkered-patterned heads running here and there. she was proud to be represented all over the community.

slowly a young man walked up to me. he looked very tired...but not the sort of tired that comes from lack of sleep. he looked soul-tired, as if life has become so exhausting simply because it requires him to stand up and face it each day. he just stop and stood there, watching me as i continued to hug mckayla.

"you know, you've just reminded me of something", he said to me.

"really? what's that?" i replied.

"my name is melvin", he told me as he reached out to shake my hand. i introduced myself before he continued. "i've got a little girl of my own. but i don't see her so much. i used to be a good father, but then i became a bad person. bad things came into my life and now i don't see my daugther very much."

"where does she live?" i inquired.

"just across in lavender hill. with my mommy." i asked him when he was going to see her again.

"i'm heading there now. you have reminded me that all i can do is love her. i see you giving hugs to these children, and you have just reminded me to go and hug my daughter. i see you are converted to jesus.

"and miss, when you think of the letter "m", remember to pray for me. i really need His help."

i smiled and promised to do so, then i stood watching as melvin lowered his hand, slid his hands in his jean pockets, and turned in the direction of lavender hill. as he walked away, i thought to myself that he wasn't just another drunk or high teenager talking nonsense, but that the earnesty in his eyes and in his voice would stay with me. i thought "i need to tell others about melvin."

so, if you think of the letter "m", remember to pray for melvin. he really needs His help.

as of late...

i've NOT been blogging, have i? i am really sorry for that. it's something i enjoy so much, but life has been very consuming lately. however, i'm going to do my best to get back into this, and redeem all the readers i once had the attention of. if you are out there, still checking in on me from time to time, spread the word that i'm fighting to overcome my supreme internet laziness and my tendency to get mentally consumed by everything BUT processing my thoughts outloud. and for those of you who know me, that's a bad thing!
blogging = emotional sanity.

my fight for regained sanity begins...

i'm eating ALOT of these:

but i prefer the ones in THIS package:

they are called "wine gums", and area quite a thing here in SA. i was introduced to them by my friend sherna, who is up on all the old school candy. after doing a bit of research, i found that wine gums are the favorite candy of one of my favorite authors, Roald Dahl. He wrote classics like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach, the BFG, and all the other great books with great artwork you read as a child. Dahl kept a jar of these savory candies by his bed to eat before going to sleep. I wonder if Ryan would go for that?
Wine gums were invented in 1909 in LIBYA of all places, by this kid Charles Maynard. His dad owned a sweet shop, and he was a devout Methodist and teetotaler. When he found that his son had invented a candy consisting of "wine" (not really wine, but that's the name little Maynard chose) he nearly fired him.
Now, wine gums are a hit and survey show the favorite colors are black and red. And if you want, you can buy them in bulk on amazon.com! who would have thought?
wikipedia says that they are manufactured from animal gelatin made from the 'rendering of bones'. that's not going to sell wine gums, is it? i don't even know what that means, but i'm not going to find out because i don't want to find out that my new favorite candy is made from crushed baboon bones!

i've also been all over THIS lately:

it's Hope Prison Ministry
, whose website is inconveniently under construction at this moment in time. all you get is a photo of the founder, brother johnathan, and his family. very random, especially cause they are sitting in front of a wall of bubbles.
the reason i'm getting more into this ministry is because they have adopted a philosophy of rehabilitation for inmates called "restorative justice". man, this will revolutionize your understanding of crime. The Center for Restorative Justice at Suffolk University in Boston says "Restorative justice is a broad term which encompasses a growing social movement to institutionalize peaceful approaches to harm, problem-solving and violations of legal and human rights. These range from international peacemaking tribunals such as the South Africa Truth and Reconciliation Commission
to innovations within our criminal justice system, schools, social services and communities. Rather than privileging the law, professionals and the state, restorative resolutions engage those who are harmed, wrongdoers and their affected communities in search of solutions that promote repair, reconciliation and the rebuilding of relationships. Restorative justice seeks to build partnerships to reestablish mutual responsibility for constructive responses to wrongdoing within our communities. Restorative approaches seek a balanced approach to the needs of the victim, wrongdoer and community through processes that preserve the safety and dignity of all."
All those words basically center around 3 things: victim, offender, & community. The key in restorative justice, and how it uniquely stands out in the justice system (be it prisons, courts, forms, etc) is to educate offenders on the effects of crime through hands-on activities, conversations, visuals, and role plays, enabling the offender to understand the weight of his/her crime. However, it does not isolate the consequences, but seeks to provide a holistic "restoration" to both offender and victim by providing opportunity for the 2 parties to reconnect in a controlled environment (usually a prison, where the offender is serving time) and the discuss why, how, where, etc of the committed crime. For victims, this means they can ask specific questions and get answers, which might lead to closure and forgiveness, and a better understanding of the one-sided perspective most convicted criminals act from. For offenders, this means honesty, transparency, accountability, willingness, and confession to the victim (and the court if need be to more fully divulge the hidden details of the crime, which often leads to more time served by the offender), whereby the criminal can also receive closure, freedom, and self-forgiveness.
As i sit in with these 20 or so inmates at Pollsmoor Prison (described by Nelson Mandela as "the truth of Oscar Wilde's haunting line about the tent of blue that prisoners call the sky."), watching this idea of restorative justics soften their hardened criminal, gangster hearts, i remember the supreme importance of having someone to share with, someone to trust and open up to. i remember why counseling is so important, and why i love it so much. i remember that no man or woman alive today is meant to live in isolation. i remember that from burma to south africa to moldova to nashville, from gangsterism to drug dealing to criminal acts of violence to government-enforced oppression of a majority to white, upperclass, "fast-paced americans" (as martin lambsdorff labels it)--it's all riddled with pain and suffering and hidden details.
when i lived in burma, i worked at a buddhist monastery. each morning on my taxi ride, bouncing over potholes worn into 60 year old paving, weaving through TWO-way streets with enough room for ONE small car to squeeze through, then making our way to the freedom of exhaust-filled Kaba Aye Road, taking a left away from the city into the beauty of rural Yangon, i always passed by this place called "Marina Estates" or something like that. The word Marina stuck out to me, and i thought i might name a child that one day. But as I drove past that place, I thought about lots of things, and one of the things I remember thinking about was the word "mend". God laid it heavy on me like he does certain ideas to certain people. and for me, i knew that i was called to "mend".
as my awareness of my life-calling developed, i saw this theme again and again: mending. isaiah is full of this idea, and isaiah is full of significance for me. the idea of mending broken hearts, releasing captives, and alleviating suffering became more prominent, especially after i moved to south africa. i really feel God connecting all these wandering pieces of my life, like a grammar teacher correcting an essay paper filled with sentence fragments, making a more comprehensive and coherent thought.

that's just a bit to spark your interest and my brain waves. i'm off to have a chat with my friend melissa! enjoy your life today :)

carly boy.

the pain. the anger. the violations. the intimidations. the hurt. the trouble. the neglect. the regret. the suffering. the bruises. the fear. the years of tears. the recklessness. the pressure. the confusion. the delusion. the abandonment. the losses. the voices. the choices.

the life of carly boy.

in the beginning, God saw them. he knew them and loved them. he watched with pain as, one by one, they fell--and led the next to the edge of sin's cliff. brokenness birthed brokenness. death, through new life, brought more death.

the way was given but choices were made against truth. the way narrowed and became more and more bare of God's people. their feet stumbled against it.

they tred new ground, led by God's enemy. the path of those many stumblers is now worn with footprints. that path is smoothed for the next who will choose it.

where has God gone to? where does he watch now?

cuts and bruises and scars mark the bodies of those enemoy-friendly souls.

how does one find his way out?

they will rise! he has already redeemed them! he will make their path wind its way back into his own. he will show them out of their darkness by his marvelous light. he has already conquered their death with his own! God has already begun!!

one by one he is picking them up.

wedding pics online:

www.sendtoprint.net

event ID: 04-1407

go check them out :)

this time tomorrow...

this girlie here will be married indeed. she's excited, in case you are curious. she's really at peace and she cannot wait to live her life with the man god gave her to.


and here she is with 4 close friends who are walking this road with her.


it's going to be a perfect day no matter what happens. cause she'll be there and he'll be there and god will be there and some good friends will be there. and that's all she really needs!

jenn and mike, sitting in a tree, m-a-r-r-y-i-n-g.

yesterday evening brought the wedding of two of my dearest friends on planet earth, jennifer allison phillips and james michael monsarratt. both looked perfect and happy and ready for the occasion.
i was priveledged to share the near fullness of jennifer's wedding day by her side, enjoying her beauty and her life and her friendship and her joy. god has brought these two together at such a time as this, and i rejoice in their union. i cannot think of another friend as loyal and consistent and purehearted and spirit filled as jennifer. she's a true blessing and light to my life and i want joy for her unlike anyone else might have. she's glorious, and she was the most beautiful bride i've seen.

along the side are some pictures, but here are a few for your viewing pleasure.

all in a row.

first of all there was tino and tessa's baby, ashley e. marco. she's now reaching 5 months.

then there was stephie and bigo's baby, "baby ryan". he's nearly 3 months.

and now, neiltjie's sister brenda just had a baby girl. she's 2 weeks old. her name? guess...

on an nonbaby note, i've been blessed beyond measure by the people in my life lately. the families in capricorn are showering us with love and thankfulness as we prepare to depart. the kids in muizenberg are being excited and interested in my future travels and plans in america, which is a miracle from God. and my social-life friends are so excited and supportive, and our fellowship with them has been so sweet! i really do love my life here.

as i prepare to come home in less than 2 days, i think about so many things. i know that it will be very good for me to come home, rest, prepare for the wedding, enjoy time with friends, play, and just "be" for awhile. but my heart already feels the strain of being away from cape town for 42 days. after 14 months of seeing certain people daily, it feels so hard to think of not seeing them for 6 weeks.

man, do i see god's timing and his hand in this phase of my life. god implanted thoughts and desires and hopes into me a year ago. i struggled to keep those afloat admist all the rushing waters and crashing waves and torrential downpours which came my way. i hid them in the shelter of god's mighty wing, and i felt his strength as i took refuge in him during the storm. i felt god's heart for the poor and oppressed so strongly over this past year, and i felt the persecution jesus promises us when we strive to be his servant.

but now, i sit on the shore and the sun is setting on a chapter of my life. i watch as the sky becomes these beautiful streaks of blue and pink and purple and yellow and orange, as if god is taking the day's doings and making a final mural of all that he is, so that we don't loose hope in his promises, in his thoughts implanted within us. and he reminds me that he's been so faithful to that which he gave me a year ago. he hasn't let me down. he's the only one that hasn't let me down. and that's how it should be.

psalm 118 and galatians 1 tell me that it is better to put my trust in god than in man. this year has taken those words and boldfaced, highlighted, italicized, underlined, and capitalized that truth and put a bunch of exclamation marks at the end.

so i'm sitting, watching the sun set with my lord by my side and his future for me laying on the horizon. it's beautiful and it's peaceful. but there are sure to be storms clouds one day, and because of this past years' trials, i know better how to take shelter when the rains fall and the waves crash again.

i really do love this place. i love the faces i've seen,

i love the crowds i've found myself in,

i love the girls who have become mothers,
and i love the mothers who have become grandmothers...
and this will sound strange & scary to you, but i LOVE them gangsters :) thank you, cape town, for letting me in. you are everything i never thought i'd find!