Catalyst

I’m having a bit of a pity party today. Very good friends of mine are looking to move to Ireland because of the I.T boom and the opportunities arising out of it. They’ve been talking about it for a few months and I know Herman’s applied for jobs but so far nothing has come of it. But last night we went swimming at the gym and he told me he’s got an interview. That realy made the reality sink in that they might be moving.

I’m glad for them, I realy am. They’ve been married for less than a year and I think it will be an adventure. But when I think about me being left behind all I can see is a great, big, gaping hole in my life where they used to be. So I’m feeling blue.

What are your dreams? If you could just do whatever it is that would make you the happiest, without worrying about money, what would that be? Do you even know?

My cousin phoned me on New Year and told me that she wished a year for me “where God would give me dreams”. What an odd wish, right? But it’s so true. I think we all get so caught up in trying to make a living, running in the same groove that we give up on our dreams; we forget we ever had them.

Have you ever seen the video of “Walk on” by U2? The International video was shot in Rio de Janeiro and ends with images of people living in the slums. I was watching that the other night and just felt so moved. People in need have always touched my heart. I remember looking at pictures of refugee camps in Yugoslavia 10-15 years ago and feeling as if my heart wanted to break. I knew then that God wanted me to get involved. Same thing with Afghanistan 5 years ago. But I chose my job.

Now I’m going for a job interview tomorrow afternoon. I hope I get it, it’s a good company and I’m good at what I do. But I’ve been praying a lot recently for God to give me dreams again, to show me what I really should be doing, what I was made for.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad during the past week. I went to Christine’s house (a friend) last Thursday evening to put up new curtain rods for her. My father was a very handy guy and from the time I was small I used to help him with projects around the house. He taught me lot about approaching a project, the planning and the measuring that you do before the first hole is drilled. While I was measuring the size of the window and the size of the new rods I asked her for a piece of paper as I only had a pencil and nothing to write on. She made a joke about my being prepared to the point of bringing my own pencil and my immediate gut reaction was to think “of course I have my own pencil. How can you start a job without a pencil?�

And that was when I thought of my dad’s yellow toolbox and the pencil stubs he kept in there for taking measurements. Since then I can’t stop thinking about things I miss about him. The old shoes he wore when he did jobs around the house. The way he used to fall asleep on the couch with his face in his hands while reading. The way his voice used to break when something moved him deeply. His blue, blue eyes and heavy eyebrows. The way he used to say my name. The conversations we had around the kitchen table while my mom baked. The way he played with his dog and the funny stiff way he ran. His single rum and Coke on a Saturday night. The way he used to justify buying something you don’t need but want just because it’s beautiful as a “lily for your soulâ€?. His hands on the steering wheel while driving. The way he loved us. And the family we were before he died.

Just after my dad died from cancer in 2002 I couldn’t believe that there would ever come a time where I wouldn’t think of and miss him every day. At that time I saw my own life as something that I just had to get through before I could see him again. I was angry with him, and God and myself. I felt I was too young to lose my father and I was angry about the responsibility of being the man in the house for my mom and sister. Because of my anger I focussed on my dad’s flaws for along time after he died. But now I just miss him. I miss him every time I look at my feet (we have the exact same shape foot, even down to the veins). And it makes me sad to think that he’ll never be at my wedding or know my children.

I’m beginning to realise how much of my character I owe to him. I find that I can hear him in myself more and more, and see him in the way I do things. I find it immensely comforting. But I’ll keep missing him.

Just a few things I’ve been thinking about…
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Why is it so difficult to find spiritul books aimed at single people in their thirties? Most books with a men’s focus asuume you’re married and more than half of the book will be about your wife and family. Most books aimed at single men are aimed at college students and that is just not me anymore (no matter how much it pains me Am I just looking in the wrong place? Most of my friends in their 30’s are still unmarried. Is the norm really still for people our age to be married already? Or is it maybe just because it’s more of the norm in the church community, and since that is both where the writers of spiritual books come from and where their audience is, that I’m battling? What do you think?
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I don’t think we know how easy it is to make an impact on the world. Our homegroup decided to sponsor the cleaning supplies for a homeless shelter for 2007. It’s costing each of us 120 South African Rand for the year (about $US16). That’s nothing, buyng a new CD is more. The lady from the shelter called our group co-ordinator and couldn’t stop thanking him. It makes me feel so good and sad at the same time. If it takes so little, then I really don’t have an excuse not to do more.
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I realised last night that I have known my housemate for 17 years. We were 16 when we met, I’m 33 now, which means I have been alive for more years knowing her than I had been alive before meeting her. I know, so what… but it just blows my mind…
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Do you ever have days where you wake up and it feels as if your head is filled with white noise? I had one like that yesterday, where you feel as if you’re under water, completely disconnected from everyone and everything around you, you’re just floating, the only thing you’re aware of is being you. And that’s nice in a weird way.
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Gotta go, pardon me if I’m rambling, long week with lots of freelance work and not very much sleep…

There was an incredible thunderstorm in Jo’burg last night. I woke up at about four o’ clock this morning and the noise was unbelievable. Next to my townhouse development is a piece of open land with a small stream and some trees and I’m convinced that the lightning struck there a few times. As I was lying in my bed you could actually here a small “pop” sound before the lightning strike, followed by the lightning and a rolling echo.

It just struck me – lying there, feeling small – that I tend to overlook how big and powerful God is. It’s something I forget, focussing on God’s loving aspects, His grace and mercy. But the Bible is full of imagery from nature to describe God’s power. (Job 37:1 “At this my heart pounds and leaps from its place. 2 Listen! Listen to the roar of his voice, to the rumbling that comes from his mouth. 3 He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven and sends it to the ends of the earth.)

When I forget about God’s power I make Him smaller in my mind and myself bigger, my wants and needs more important and my sins less important.

Hi guys

Please feel free to take a look and comment at http://niccistewart.voxtropolis.com/. We work for the same ad agency in Jo’burg and she’s a friend of mine.

Cheers

Hi all

Just after Christmas I joined the stampede to the coast and drove down to Cape Town with my housemate, Ilse. We spent one night in Cape Town (visiting my favourite aunt) and then went on to Hermanus, a seaside town about an hour and a half along the coast, for our friend Mareli’s birthday. We moved on towards Mossel Bay (on South Africa’s Garden Route – http://www.gardenroute.co.za) just before New Year and ended at Keurbooms River visiting Lana, another friend. On the way back we stopped in Nieu-Bethesda, (a one-horse town if ever there was one) to look at the Owl House. It is a fascinating place, really a testament to one woman’s creativity. You can find out more at http://www.owlhouse.co.za.

Below are some pics of the trip.

My housemate Ilse

Me and my aunt Lenie (”tannie Lenie” in Afrikaans, my home language). She’s a sweetheart.

Mareli and myself having a glass of wine on her birthday in Hermanus. We are at a place called Bientang’s Cave which is literally right on the sea, at high tide they lose half their seating.

A late afternoon walk at Grotto Beach.

My friend Douw at Mareli’s party. I like how the sun gives him a burning halo around his head.

Everyone at the party. Check out the wireframe whale behind Nic’s head (guy in the middle). In September they have a Whale Festival in Hermanus with whale-watching tours for Southern Right Whales.

Ilse and Lana. We went out for supper in Pletttenberg Bay (upmarket holiday town) one evening. Lousy service, lousy food, GREAT cocktails.

Some of the sculptures outside the Owl House. Go and look at the website. She was a fascinating but deeply troubled person.

The inside of the house is something else. She took ground glass and covered her walls with it, so that the walls sparkle when the lights are on. There’s also lots of play with lights and mirrors.

I got bored in the car on the way back (15 hour drive) and at dusk started taking pictures of cars as they passed us.

That’s all, folks! (for now)

Yesterday I went to lunch at a friends’ house for her birthday. During the afternoon I went outside with another friend to smoke and we started to talk about how such a lot of us are contemplating leaving South Africa and working in other countries for a few years, the main reason being bigger salaries. She said that she had never realised that – as a group of friends – we were so driven by money. Her comment didn’t bother me at the time, but the more I think about it the more it bugs me.

I never used to be this obsessed about money. One of the reasons is that I truly believed that this life is one a small part of our eternal lives, so wealth accumulation really doesn’t matter that much. And even though I’m messed up about God at the moment I still believe it. I really and truly know it; the same way that I know the sky is blue. So why doesn’t this knowledge change me? It’s just so annoying to start another year with the same insecurities and inconsistencies.

Traffic was really backed up on the highway this morning. As I got on I immediately moved into the middle lane and pretty much sat there the rest of the way. We were moving really slowly, so I had a lot of time to look around and think about how the middle lane can be a metaphor for the way we live our lives.

There’s nothing exceptional about driving in the middle lane. You’re not moving fast enough for any excitement, nor are you going slow enough to enjoy the scenery. If fact, it’s pretty mediocre. So why are we so content with living in the middle lane? Jesus said He came that we “may have life, and have it to the full� (John 10:9-11). A lot of the time I don’t see that in my own life and if I’m honest about it I would have to say that the mediocrity in my life is a direct result of the choices I make daily.

I’m not prepared to live like this anymore. I want to get off the highway and walk on the road God leads me on. I want to leave the comfort and mediocrity behind and live with passion and purpose, even if it scares the living daylights out of me.

I heard some bad news this afternoon. My aunt (my father’s sister) was operated on a month ago for cysts on and around her reproductive organs. She came through the op quite well for a lady of 82, but developed a haematoma during the last week. When they did scans again for the second operation to remove the haematoma they discovered cancer in her reproductive organs as well as her lungs, pretty far advanced.

I feel really tired and worn out. Both my grandfaher and father died of cancer, so we all have a pretty good guess of what lies ahead. Please pray for me and my family, it’s a tough time and it’s opening up a lot of old wounds.