Thankful

After being ill for the whole of June this year (2020), with what turned out to be pneumonia, I'm very thankful to be well again. In fact, I realise just how many people there are to thank, and how many things to be thankful for. I recently spoke about all of these in a short video for our online church meetings (live.urbanvoice.org.za), and I thought I'd recap them here.

I'm grateful to be part of a church family: a group of people who prayed for me and messaged and phoned both me and my family with encouragement and support.

Within that church family is a smaller group, my Life Group, who arrived with meals (from sausage and mash to beef stroganoff!). They also kept a check on how my family was managing, as well as praying for me.

Another part of the church family is the Worship Team of which Steve and I are a part. They sent an extravagant, gorgeous bunch of flowers. Every time I looked at it, I was reminded of God's love for me, and their love and care too. The flowers lasted for weeks, unfolding and blooming.

Something I didn't add in the video (I had a time-limit) is how I couldn't work for about six weeks - yet finances where taken care of. One job paid me generous sick-leave, while from another came some back-pay owed to me; and a royalty payment came through.

At home, my husband Steve took over most of my chores, from laundry to cooking, and nursed me as well. In the context of current affairs and COVID-19, we could be thankful that he was still working from home, and so was able to manage all this. My two teenage boys carried on as normal, and even brought their Mom tea a few times!

There's a song that says, "What a friend we have in Jesus" - and indeed I found this to be true. While I was ill, I had no energy for anything, even reading; and there were long periods of just lying still, or waiting. During these times, I remembered all the dark days that Jesus has walked me through - and the good and joyful times too.

The Holy Spirit brought to mind bible verses and songs to encourage or soothe me; and there were special moments of comfort and help. One in particular happened when I went for an MRI scan:

In the MRI, you lie completely still while your brain is scanned. This means your head is immobilized in a kind of vice. To make sure there's no movement, a kind of "sponge" is also wedged in on each side of your head. At the time I had the scan, I'd had a fever and unrelenting headaches for several weeks - and that day was no different. The grip of the head-hold could have been frightening and claustrophobic and almost unbearable. Instead, into my mind dropped the image of two hands holding my head firmly but lovingly. What is more, I knew whose hands they were: the hands of a school-friend whom I hadn't seen for years. I hadn't even been in touch with her recently - yet I had a clear picture and tangible sense of care and compassion. I can only describe this as a special gift from God in that moment.

That's my "thankfulness" list. I'd like to end with a kind of summary to encourage you:

• if you are sick, allow others to help and bless you
• turn to God in whatever way you can
• whether sick or well, pray for one another
• if you are praying for the sick, pray for faith and peace along with healing
• give thanks

Our God Reigns

This song is on an album I've had for a while, but I only listened to it recently - on the first of April, in fact, when South Africa was just into the first few days of "lockdown" against the Corona virus/ COVID-19. As I write, we've just listened to the President announce a partial lifting of lockdown, with strict conditions still in place.

I've copied the lyrics here, but the part that really struck me was the chorus - Hallelujah our God reigns - where Jenn Johnson encourages us to "sing it out" - to "sing out Hallelujah," God's sovereignty, over a solid, comprehensive list of things, from our families to those who are homeless.

Even if you don't listen to this kind of music, I hope you'll take a listen and be strengthened and reassured by the chorus in particular. Link: God I look to You

God I Look To You (Bethel Music)

God I look to You, I won’t be overwhelmed
Give me vision to see things like You do
God I look to You, You’re where my help comes from
Give me wisdom; You know just what to do

I will love You Lord my strength
I will love You Lord my shield
I will love You Lord my rock forever
All my days I will love You God

Hallelujah our God reigns
Hallelujah our God reigns
Hallelujah our God reigns
forever all my days Hallelujah

Why you should use cash

Cash keeps you honest.
Honest with yourself; honest with your spouse; honest with the person or business whose money has been entrusted to you.

In Dan Ariely's Predictably Irrational, he relates several sets of experiments that he and his colleagues run to test people's honesty. Students answer some questions, add up their scores, and are rewarded a small amount for each correct answer. There is a control group; a group who can cheat to some degree; and a group who can cheat completely if they wanted to. Those who can cheat, do - but not by very much. Then the researchers add in other factors.

They begin with finding out whether an honour code helps reduce cheating - and it not only reduces it, it eliminates it altogether:

So we learned that people cheat when they have a chance to do so, but they don't cheat as much as they could. Moreover, once they begin thinking about honesty - whether by recalling the Ten Commandments or by signing a simple statement - they stop cheating completely. In other words, when we are removed from any benchmarks of ethical thought, we tend to stray into dishonesty. But if we are reminded of morality at the moment we are tempted, then we are much more likely to be honest.

Now comes the factor of cash versus objects. They repeat the same experiment, but this time, instead of rewarding correct answers with money, they reward participants with tokens, which they then exchange for money. In other words, the cash is at one remove.

The results are salutary: when given the chance to cheat and the reward is in tokens (not real money), the average rate of cheating doubled. Not only this, but a proportion of those in the token group cheated all the way or as much as was possible (claiming all correct answers).

This means that not only did the tokens "release" people from some of their moral constraints, but for quite a few of them, the extent of the release was so complete that they cheated as much as was possible.

Ariely discusses a number of possible uses for this research, along with the broad caution that our current trend towards a cashless society might hold some distinct disadvantages.
His finding also translate into our everyday relationship with money: it is easier to cheat ourselves when we deal in credit or bank-account-numbers, not cash. Before you convince yourself that you can spend your savings on that new TV, or that adding the extra magazine and chocolate won't add too much to the grocery bill, try paying for that desired object in cash (or even just picturing the cash). I guarantee you will see the purchase differently and, if you are saving for something else, it might just stop you cheating on your own goals.
I'm considering trying it out on my boys: keeping their pocket money in cash so they can see how much they've saved - or how much they plan to spend. Watch this space... 

Reading right to the end

I finally finished reading a book that's been on my shelf for a few years. Called "Incognito", it has the sub-title "the secret lives of the brain" and its author David Eagleman sets out to address such questions as why (or how) your foot hits the brake-pedal even before you are consciously aware of danger ahead.
Some of the material is reasonably straightforward and easy to grasp; other parts - especially where science meets philosophy, as in one section about blame and justice - well, other parts are harder and require concentrated swathes of reading-time that I don't often have. I just couldn't seem to manage to get to the end.


The strange thing was that, when I picked up the book again, determined to finish it, I discovered that I had almost finished; in fact, the final chapter was left, and it was a true "concluding" chapter in that it summed up all the key ideas in the book. I felt both relieved and pleased, and at the same time a bit annoyed at myself: I had stopped just before the end. As I write that down, I realise it's something - a phenomenon - I've read about elsewhere: that we sometime give up just before we are actually about to reach our goal.

That's quite a strange discovery: in completing the book, I not only received a re-cap of all the main points, but I received a reminder of a quite different lesson altogether.

Your brain is much, much more complicated than you realize.
And you are much, much closer to your goal than you think you are.

Disquieting reassurance

An alarm system is supposed to make me feel safer, isn't it? Why then does part of me feel less secure?

We had an alarm system installed today, and after the installers had tested it and showed us how it worked and driven away, I found myself feeling upset and a bit shaken.

I have never felt the need of an alarm system - still do not, actually. Our area is very safe and quiet, and I never feel anxious when on my own at home. We do have burglar guards on the windows (lovely "clear bars") and security gates on the doors; but you can open our garden gate and walk up the front door, which I like. More and more, we are cut off from each other behind gates and walls and electric fences, so I like bucking the trend and staying accessible.

What changed? My dear husband had the opportunity to travel overseas, and arranged for an alarm system to help protect his precious family while he is away. After some debate and after downsizing the original quote, we agreed on a simple, effective system and he boarded his plane, leaving me to see to the installation of the system and learn how to operate it.

So why the negative emotions? I feel it goes something like this:

If I have an alarm system, it must mean there is something to be alarmed about - something against which I and my family need to be protected. Admitting an alarm system admits too that the world is not as safe as we like or pretend. It doesn't quite go so far as to invite attack; but it admits the possibility.

It is this admission that has me uneasy and sad when you might expect me to feel relieved and reassured. I am alarmed, dear friends, by the alarm.

A splash of orange paint

Choices can be stressful! When the opportunity arose to repaint our entire living area, I agonized over the colour: keep the light, bright yellow that attracted me to the house in the first place, or tone it down? In the end, I toned down, but stayed with yellow; and it works well.
Next was the choice of something BRIGHT for my new study-area: two walls in a corner of our new bedroom. Friends encouraged me, gave practical help about where to get a paint sample. My husband painted on the trial colour, Touch of Sun; and now I have two bright orange sections of wall to inspire and energize me when I work.

Somehow, this venture into colour-choice has enlarged and changed my perceptions. It's as if the splash of orange has lit up many areas of my being, including the spiritual. I am more confident in my own creativity and personal taste; and have been more open to God-moments (such as offering to pray for someone, or inviting a new acquaintance to church).

Such a visible affirmation of a good choice - the walls in their new paint, whether pale yellow or bright orange - reaches deep into one's psyche, sending down roots of confidence and spreading upwards into openness-to-change, with side-shoots of sheer pleasure.

I'm not quite suggesting that you splash on some orange paint (although it's not a bad idea!); but I do hope you will take time to recognise and revisit the positive choices you've made over the years, and to reach towards some new ones. And who knows, maybe there is a new paint colour among those choices ahead!

I'll never fit into that!

"Keren, this is YOU!" "Goodness, Anthea, I'll never fit into that!"

It is late morning and the four of us - Anthea, Jackie, Rachael and I - have just had a leisurely breakfast. We meet regularly to enjoy each other's company and stay connected; a group of girl-friends who all have God at the centre of their busy lives, and whom God has wisely knitted together. We laugh a lot and depart again feeling loved and cherished.

This morning our breakfast venue is an old house whose three sections comprise the coffee shop, dress-hire, and upmarket second-hand clothes. Browsing the clothes, we begin in the kids' section, but soon drift across to the racks of lovely, gently-used, designer clothes. There are soft leather boots, cute hats, every length of jacket, blouses and dresses of every colour...There is even a room full of men's clothes. We look, touch, exclaim, encourage... And then Anthea finds the "little black number": a simple, fitted dress that falls in soft folds, with a glittery embossed pattern.

She is adamant that it will fit me; everyone else joins in. I appeal to the shop-owner: "But it looks like a size 10!" She agrees. But the others insist: I must try it on. Laughing, disbelieving, I do so, sure it will NOT fit.

But, gentle reader, my perception of my own body is WRONG. My dear friends are RIGHT: the beautiful dress does indeed fit, like a glove.

I am still trying to assimilate the mental shift caused by that dress. Can our perception of ourselves be so very wrong? What else do I "see" about myself that is incorrect? - that does not match reality, the facts of "me"?

God is gracious; He puts people around us who show us our true selves; and he himself calls us "friend". Won't you join me in "fitting into" that image of yourself, like I fitted into that dress? Be clothed in this truth: you are indeed a friend of God.