Ask. Really, we’re allowed!


Today, I’m beginning a new series of short, Bible inspired writings. I trust this will be the first of many, so here goes..

Consider the following words of Jesus, taken from Matthew’s gospel:

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” Matt 7:7 (NIV)

“If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.” Matt 21:22 (NIV)

In these verses, Jesus gives us a very simple instruction as to how we can receive from our Father. And yet, so many of us don’t receive what we ask for. How can this be? Surely He would not command us to do so if it weren’t true?

Yes, we need to understand that God is Sovereign, and sometimes what we ask for is not in accordance with His divine purpose and will. And sometimes we ask with wrong motives, thereby automatically cancelling our own prayers.

But I believe there is another, more simple explanation too. We are just too scared to ask!

You see, I think we confuse the word “ask”, with the word “beg”.

The world we live in has made us equate asking with weakness – that we should “stand on our own feet”, or “be independent and self-sufficient”. Asking for help means admitting defeat or weakness. And so we don’t ask, we determine to carry on struggling in our own strength.

I’m reminded here of Jesus’ words in Matt 18:3 “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (NIV). A child has no fear of asking His daddy for help. A child trusts that their father will give them anything, without wondering if it’s possible. And that father will do absolutely anything in His power to make their child’s dreams come true.

So, let us reflect. Are we God’s children? Do we trust Him to do all He can in His unlimited power to fulfill our requests?

So let’s determine in our hearts to ask our Father, with expectant hearts.

Jesus says we must.







Time heals?

I don’t think that time
heals anything
It simply allows memories to fade
To nothingness, to

I believe rather that we choose
To heal
Or not to heal

Strong words?
Perhaps so
But all that time does is keep moving
If we don’t make the bold choice to move with it
We simply get left behind by it

Your Gifting will make Room for You

Dianne J. Wilson

I caught the tail-end of a story on the news yesterday. There was a man, a brilliant maths teacher, forced to flee his country because of political unrest. He settled in Jo’burg and tried to find work in his area of expertise. Nobody would hire him as a teacher, but he managed to get a job as a security guard at a school.

So he took the job. He’d set up a chalkboard wherever he was and would teach maths to whoever needed his help. It didn’t take long for the Principal of the school to notice him and his unconventional, but brilliant ways of teaching maths. He has just accepted a post at the school as a maths teacher.

This story gives me goosebumps. Why? Because it is a fact… your gifting will make room for you.

You see it doesn’t matter where you are stuck in life, or how long you’ve been…

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We are all in the driver’s seat of our own lives.

From here we take instructions from the greatest driving coach, God Almighty.

He tells us how fast to go, in which direction to turn the wheel, and when to slow down.

We simply need to keep our eyes on the road.   And yet …


In the rear-view mirror

May appear closer than they are

We can choose to stay focussed on the past

To allow our accuser to remind us of our fallings and failures

Our pain, grief and hopelessness

Sin, shame, stereotypes and sicknesses

Depression, danger and defeat.

Objects in the rear-view mirror appear closer than they are

Jesus took these miseries from us

He really, really REALLY did

He paid the ransom price for them

We are no longer under judgement for them

We can look forward, not at that infernal piece of glass and its reminders

With hope, with peace and Joy

Secure in Love

Set fantastically and forever free

Knowing His grace

And the Life Abundant that he has for us

Objects in the rear-view mirror

No longer exist

In Jesus’ name

THIS is our place.

Thandi – A Story of Hope


Step 1

The reflected sun glowed gold off the smooth sea, and though the afternoon breeze brought a chill filled with salty spray, my heart was still warm; I hoped that it would stay that way forever.

It had been a day like none before, and it was one hard to imagine being matched again soon. Wow. Just wow!

I was just another girl from a rural village. I’d never been much further from home than my cousin’s house in Peddie. As a child I’d been once to family in Port Elizabeth, I was told. And before I was born, I had travelled in my mom’s pregnant tummy from Cape Town after my father’s funeral. This place was something beyond. Far, far over and above anything I had hoped or dreamed of ever being in.

I had joined my friends as always that morning, expecting it to be just another routine day of being unemployed; watching repeats of soapies on the box,  talking about fashion and giggling about guys; looking at pictures in magazines and dreaming of living the life of glamour they showed. It was a far cry from the poverty we lived in.  But girls are girls anywhere, why shouldn’t we dream?

Of course, Xoli kept going on and on about the heat as we sipped our lukewarm orange squash, wishing it was an ice-cold Coke instead. Ever the drama queen, that one!  As if, I’d thought to myself, such luxuries would become everyday things around this dusty place anytime soon.A fridge that worked properly wasn’t to be found in many houses around here. If only…

The sound of a car hooter in the distance brought me back to reality. Not just once, it kept on and on until we were irritated and curious enough to walk outside and around the back of the rondavel to see what the noise was all about. There was a fancy white 4X4 on the gravel track across the valley about 500 metres away, and standing outside of it, waving their arms and signalling frantically, stood two women. One was black like I was, the other white.  What brought them this far from the tarred road? I was irritated by their constant hooting, but curious. Maybe they had car trouble?  Perhaps we’d better go and see if we could help, I suggested.  But none of my friends had been interested. It was too hot to walk all that way for nothing, so they headed back inside.

Old Ma’am Doris from across the way looked at me from her chair and called out, “Go over and see what they want, Thandi. It can’t hurt you to be helpful.  Maybe they’re lost and you’ll get a few rands for just giving them directions. Go on, girl!”  Sighing, I headed down the slope, along the path through the thorn bush, across the dry river bed and up through the field of scattered aloes on the other side.  I thought I was wasting my time, but my mother always said I was similar to the father I’d never known; a kind-hearted person. So I kept going, though I was tired by the time I bent down and climbed through the wire fence next to the road.

Step 2


The full version of this story is now available for purchase at:


Click… BOOM


The beginning

I had nearly finished my six day assignment, leading a group of gap-year students over a mountain ridge trail to join up with their parents at Lake Suki. I had been forced to retire after 20 years as a Park Ranger there, and I enjoyed these occasional opportunities to teach youngsters more about the forest eco-system. It was terrain that I knew and loved and, although I still had a limp from the fall that had injured my back, keeping up with those couch potatoes was a breeze.

The “survival guide” title the marketers gave it was more for dramatic purposes than anything –these days one was hardly ever out of mobile phone range, should something go wrong.  Huh, I thought to myself, this generation just had too many distractions to appreciate nature anyway!  We had one last night left out there. By the next week they’d have filed most of what I showed them at the back of their minds under “Useless but Interesting Information”.

I had been at the back of the string helping “big” Dave when the leaders saw the carcass. The poor animal must have suffered a horribly slow death, I thought – the sight of the rotting skeleton wrenching my gut. The small buck’s skin was still relatively intact, but the worms and insects had done a pretty good job of the rest of its body. So the rumours had been true – there were still trappers and poachers active in this forest. One of their crude wire snares had done its ugly job right here not that long ago.

There were misty-eyed lumps in all of our throats and some tears were washing dust off a few faces, but there was nothing we could do. I covered my mouth and nose with my bandanaand moved closer. A few quick twists and clicks with my army knife later,I could at least lower the animal’s head to the ground and give it some dignity. I looped the snare itself and put it intomy rucksack to hand over to the Rangers at the lake.

“Right, team – there’s nothing more we can do here, let’s get moving!” I said, taking the lead this time and making good time to get their minds off what they had just witnessed. It wasn’t long before their cries of “Slow down, Mr H,” started up again. I let them suffer a bit longer, knowing that the clearing I planned to stop in for lunch was only a few hundred yards away. Once there, I laid my backpack down and took out my wrapped lunch. Kezra, my designated back marker, soon came and confirmed that the group were all safely there. Thanking her, I took a swig from my water bottle and moved to the forward end of the rocky outcrop that bounded the far end of the clearing.

“That is an antenna at Lake Suki, people – the end of your journey of discovery. Between now and tomorrow lunch time; we will have to cross the road to the camp-site three times. I don’t want anyone getting clever ideas about hiving off down it as a short-cut, because it’s not. It zigzags its way down, whereas we’re going straight.” There were a few dramatic groans about ruining their fun, but this group had been one of the better ones, generally speaking. A few may even try camping again, even if only with their own children one day.

“Right, five more minutes and we’re heading out,” I said, reaching for my energy snack – a lovely ripe banana. “Please check that you’ve left nothing behind.” I said.“I’ll be checking for wrappers and aluminium foil as usual.” Once they were all strapped up securely, I called Kezra aside and told her to lead off at a steady pace. “Don’t wait up, keep going to the camp – I want to backtrack to check something.”

The Trap

The full version of this story is now available for purchase at:

2016 -What’s the plan?

Got challenged tonight on having a plan, the saying goes “If you aim at nothing, you’ll hit it every time”

Point taken.

So let’s lay this out:

  1. 5 articles published, 1 fully written by next meeting (mid-feb)
  2. Explore the possibilities of re-visiting my 2 favourite characters
  3. Seek out mags/publications that want good old stories
  4. Stay true to my style – I’m a “pantser”, not planner
  5. Have fun, and give myself permission to write …-