From The Restory - Conversations On The Journey (88)

The Will of God

“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood....”

‭‭John‬ ‭1‬:‭14‬ ‭(The Message)

"That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God

is worked into something good.”

“I’m absolutely convinced that nothing -

nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic,

today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable -

absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love.....”

‭‭

Romans‬ ‭8‬:‭28; 31‬-‭39‬ ‭(The Message)‬

The Conversation

Elements From The Conversation

When we (George & Matilda) ponder on this subject and look at it from the perspective of our own experience, the overarching theme is that God is not far-off, way distant from where He manipulates and guides things.

We take Jesus's message seriously - God is with you, in you. So intimately entwined that we cannot be separated.

Rainer Maria Rilke expresses it beautifully when he speaks against that backdrop about the vulnerability of God, even of a concern about God.

What will you do, God, when I die?

I am your pitcher (when I shatter?)
I am your drink (when I go bitter?)
I, your garment; I, your craft.
Without me what reason have you?

Without me what house
where intimate words await you?
I, velvet sandal that falls from your foot.
I, cloak dropping from your shoulder.

What will you do, God? It troubles me.

From The Book of Hours I, 36

Music

May you live like a river flows....

With love.

George & Matilda

Comments

Whistle while you work

Drawing by Ron Leishman When last did you whistle while working? When last did you hear someone else whistle while working? Somehow it bothers me that whistling has become an almost absent element in our work. The sound of a person whistling a tune while busy somewhere in the house or out in the workshop conveys something of an underlying happiness, satisfaction and contentment. An enjoyment of the work itself. The tune need not be flawless. Applying more air than sound won’t lead to disqualification, as long as the intention is there. Whistling can even be replaced by singing in all that I’ve said up to now. The same principles apply. The absence of any of these two activities bothers me because it says something about us doing the work and the type of work that we do. Can it be that our type of labour in this 21 st century is not conducive to either whistling or singing? What type of work is that then – draining, stressful, pressured? Or are our conclusions ...

A likely Hero: Jara Cimrman

As Matilda has already indicated, one of the most difficult things to do after you’ve visited a country is to return and convey something of what you’ve experienced. How do you show a city’s many faces, introduce its inhabitants? How do you tell of the effects a history has on people and of a stance towards life that can actually not be translated into words? In the case of Prague, it is very helpful to have someone like Jara Cimrman. ~ ~ v ~ ~ Petrin Hill, on the left bank of the river Vltava running through Prague, is in many ways a site worth visiting. Climbing the 299 steps of the Petrin Tower, inspired by the Eiffel Tower, gives you one of the most beautiful views of the city. But by going down into its basement, you enter into the psyche of the Czech people. Here, quite unobtrusively, is the museum for the “ Genius, who has not become famous ”. Matilda and I almost stumbled onto it by chance and as we went through the exhibition, our amazement over this brilliant ...

You never can tell

This morning I was out in the vegetable garden looking for signs of sprouting cabbage and spinach that we had sown a week ago. Among the weeds, I did find the tiny seedlings pushing through bravely, but I had a surprise coming. The young Zulu gardener drew my attention to an abundance of ready food growing in the ruins of the tiny stone cottage only meters away: Umbido, a type of wild spinach, and a staple food in the rural areas. I grew up with much the same in the northern parts of the country, but called Marogo in the Sotho language. Enter my new helper and friend, Winnie Nkosi. She lives on the edge of the Zaaihoekdam in a traditional mud house with no electricity. Twice a week she walks the four odd kilometres to help me with all things domestic. She has also taken it upon herself to teach me the Zulu language and culture with optimistic determination. The planned lunch menu was immediately ditched in favour of a lesson in local cooking and Winnie showed me the differenc...

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