If we had thanksgiving

In South Africa we don't celebrate thanksgiving, although Americans living here do, so I have experienced one thanksgiving dinner.

So, since anytime is a good time to be thankful and I don't think I am thankful nearly enough, here is what I am thankful for:

• My family - perhaps that sounds clichèd, but I have lived in mortal fear of losing on of them to death and that has helped me to appreciate them so much more. I appreciate that I have them, because I know that so many people grieve for the loss of theirs daily.
• Love - it took me a long time to start believing in it again and even longer to recognize the feeling. It has not been easy this year, we fought so much and sometimes it was downright ugly. But somehow this year would not have been the same without him and I do love him like I know he loves me.
• School - the beautiful Victorian building, the technology, the shelter of the Matric Quad, the safety within those walls. I know I belong and I shall miss it dearly. And the things I learnt, of course - because I know that every thing has meant something to me.
• Teachers - not for the knowledge they taught me, but the insight. The care and the interest, the things they taught me about myself.
• My house, clean running water, electricity, shoes, clothes and food - because more than 80% of the country doesn't have that.
• My brain - it has put me in places that many envy and has helped me cope in many situations. And it helped me be Dux.
• Books - they keep me company when nobody else will and are a great procrastination tool.
• iPod - because it's mine, gosh!
• Debating, the debating juniors and debating trips - because it destroys ignorance and develops people and shows me a side of myself I sometimes forget. And because it is possible the funnest thing to do!

Being accepted to study Medicine at Stellenbosch-Tygerberg

Not getting everything I wanted

• Being granted another day of life every morning
• Friends - I don't see them much, but the times we have spent together have been a blessing
• Grade 8s - they made my year wonderful and filled me with purpose.
• Chocolate
• Mxit, Facebook and Google - 'nuff said.
• God - because, despite my struggles and doubt, I do believe he still looks out for me

The Giant with the Big Hair

It is strange how, when I was pleading with God not to take any more loved ones from us and named every person I could think of in a prayer, this thought entered my mind:
The next person to go will be one you hadn't mentioned.

And soon, off the family had to go to another funeral... I couldn't go along due to exams and I wish I could have.

I remember him. I haven't seen him in a long, long time, but I remember how close our families were when I was a little kid and we lived in the same town. I remember how I loved visiting them, how his booming voice would echo around the braai-area.

I remember how hard they tried for a baby and how ecstatic he was when his son was born.
Dad was real good friends with him and it hurt me so to hear his voice crack over the phone. In a way I am glad that I wasn't here when the news came - I couldn't stand another memory of my parents receiving terrible news...

I look at the funeral handout. Not the usual one-page-foldover; this one is thick with letters from people who loved this giant.

He loved the outdoors, animals and camping; his family, his six-string Yamaha, making delicious dishes, motorbikes... I didn't know these things, but it's all here in the handout.

I cannot believe that Pappa visited this family for two days just before the heart attack happened... He says that on Thursday morning when he greeted them, this dear man told him to visit again soon. If only Pappa had known it was the last time he would talk to him.

Friday night - death after a heart attack and a coma. He was not your typical heart-problem candidate - he loved the outdoors and activity for heaven's sake - but neither was he a fitness freak. So unexpected.

He has a wife. A lovely wife and a darling 13-year-old son.

I cry when I think of the funeral. I can imagine the tears, the mother and son sitting next to each other, their grief tangible. In his letter, the boy writes, "Every day when I look into the heavens above, I see your beautiful, loving and caring face and that's how it will always be. I will look after our family and friends, especially Mom. I will keep her safe."

Then I read What will matter by Michael Josephson:

Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten
will pass to someone else.

Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear.
So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
It won't matter where you came fromor what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.

So what will matter?
How will the value of your days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought but what you built,
not what you got but what you gave.
What will matter is not your success but your significance.
What will matter is not what you learned but what you taught.
What will matter is every act of integrity,
compassion,
courage,
or sacrifice
that enriched, empowered or encouraged others to emulate your example.

What will matter is not your competence but your character.
What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you're gone.
What will matter is not your memories but the memories that live in those who loved you.
What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom and for what.

Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident.
It's not a matter of circumstance but of choice.

Choose to live a life that matters.

The handout says that he bought take-aways for street children. It tells of the many societies and organizations he supported. It tells of the love for his family. His Sunday School Class. His attention to the elderly... it is a long list.

And I know this: none of us know what his opinions were on theological debates, his stances on manuscripts and denominations and the end of times. Bu what we do know is the he LOVED.
I was told a while ago that the reason love for God is the most important commandment, is because if you love God you will automatically be adhering to all other commandments and ways of the Christian lifestyle.

I want to be like that. I want to do small good deeds and touch people's lives. When I die one day (hopefully not soon) I don't want people to talk about my brilliant brain... I want them to talk about the good that I did.

I am so sad for this loss, for the tragedy of death.

But I appreciate the inspiration that this Giant with the Big Hair has now been for me and others - his last great deed before joining the palace of his Creator.

"Jam-Jams"

That is my friend C.N.M.'s expression for having a good time or party.

So I went to the club with C.R.M. last night. C.N.M. and Shay were there too - heck, just about everyone in my history class (that still has an exam tomorrow) was there. I guess we decided to rebel against the fact that most eveybody else has finished exams.

So he SMS'ed me yesterday saying he was going to go and do I have an exam today (which I suppose was an invitation to come along). I didn't really want to go because I'm tired and all that, but hell! He's gone out without me too much now and I don't want all those drunk girls around him like that... he doesn't know that though.

Except, I only had one drink before the dancefloor opened and I just couldn't get into the whole dancing thing. I guess it's exam stress and the stuff that's been going on in the relationship and the fact that he was making suggestive jokes (which, although I know it means nothing, really pisses me off) and had being kind of touchy.

I was actually feeling like I was going to burst into tears at any moment.

So I got him to buy me another stronger drink, and an hour later another one.
(NOTE: I wasn't driving and the legal drinking age in S.A. is 18)

I think I was drunk... I've never been drunk before so I don't know, but things looked kind of wonky. Although it could have been a combination of lights and drink because I was completely stable and fine on the dancefloor. Don't know if that makes any sense.

I do feel bad. I ask him not to get drunk and he hasn't for almost two years. He was very sweet and protective and understanding though. But I don't like the thought of not having controlled myself.

But you know, I remember how I felt... I must watch myself, because in a way I was drinking so that I could have an excuse not to look him in the eye and to be a bit dazed. When really I just wanted to pretend he was any other guy and that I didn't have all these questions inside my head.

We got home at 2:30 and I had to wake up at 8 to clean the house because the parents are coming back from the funeral. I hate how we can't seem to have a break from losing people who are dear to us.

Have tried to learn but it's difficult. I'm SO tired.

Two left...

Right, for practicallity's sake, I'll be tagging the normal day-to-day updates (i.e. non-philosophical stuff that you may or may not find slightly boring) with the label "update"(original, I know).

I wrote my final History 1 paper today... three hours of continuous writing, darn my hand is cramping! Chose the Cold War and Civil Protest in America sections.
They were kind of irritating because they had the usual essay topics ["Using the sources and your knowledge, discuss the effect the Berlin Wall had on the lives of ordinary people" and "Discuss Martin Luther King's final lines to "I have a dream" with regards to the role and influence of the Civil Rights Movement],
but this time I am not complaining.
Firstly, I didn't study nearly hard enough.
Secondly, I need the best possible marks these exams... I need that bursary!

I am a bit jealous of this chicky in my science class... she gets the Friends of South African Students bursary (that's not what I'm jealous of though) and they are helping her get into Amherst in the States...

I'm jealous because they paid for her SATs and helped her with preparation and they are paying her application fees and will pay for all expenses if she gets accepted.

My marks are way better than hers and I know I would have done really well at the SATs, but I couldn't afford any of the fees...

I don't mind if she goes- hell, if she gets in then she deserves it!
I just know that I deserve it too, and I'm not getting it because we're not rich enough to get what we want, but nor are we poor enough to get needs-based bursaries.
And I really wanted to go to Amherst or Harvard. And I could've made it if the whole international thing didn't complicate matters so much when you don't have a middle man helping out.

Now I have to wait 7 years. I know that these things have always happened for a reason, and I know that all the stuff from the past few years have been worth it, but it's still not nice...

Anywho, I have two papers left now. And then it is the long wait to find out about the results.
I am nervous.
What if my papers are marked by bad examiners?
What if they're too rigid with their marking?
What if they lose one of my diagram sheets during transit?
What if my marks get confused with somebody else's?

Pappa says I mustn't be of such little faith, but one hears of these stories so often.

I have the day off tomorrow to prepare for History 2. Ugh. South African Liberation, Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Affect of the fall of the USSR on the world and African Colonies...
Not my favourite sections.
I'm going to go to A.W.'s for a study group. I like going there, he feeds me haha! And we spend good time together and he manages to get me into the sun and the pool too.

Am considering going to Summer Camp. Nothing like American Summer Camp, the youth organisations just call it summer camp to make it sound more appealing.
But it sounds real cool, there's going to be paintball, pellet gun ranges, mountain climbing, sandboarding...

Anyways. I think I must go take the hambabies from their mommy, she's getting really snappy and they're so big, I think they're ready to be weaned.

Oh... C.R.M. and I haven't fought in 3 days. I really want us to be good to each other. Saw him this morning... something feels wrong though. Like... oh whatever. My hand is cramping up again.

Tata

Understanding Christianity?

So... I've had this problem with religion for a while. I try, I do, and I remember a time that I truly could feel God's presence (except now, that phrase sounds so... corny... to me).

One thing that has always (and I mean always, even before this wilderness experience) bothered me about Christians is the ease with which they judge and condemn others. I will be the first to tell you that not all Christians are like that and I am fully aware of the fact... but many of them are.

I read this piece yesterday (yes, I do still try to read the Bible... sometimes it feels like my lifeline. I may be half-drowning in the ocean, but at least I'm holding on to a lifesaver that is connected to some stability, however far-off it may be):

"And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, 'The old is better'."
Luke 5:37-39 (NIV Life Application Study Bible)

Right, so if you are anything like me, you have a big blank look on your face right now and are thinking, "Uhm. Right. Wineskins. Meaning?"
So, from the annotations in my study Bible:

"Wineskins were goatskins sewed together at the edges to form watertight bags. Because new wine expands as it ages, it had to be put in new, pliable wineskins. A used skin, having become more rigid, would burst and spill the wine. Like old wineskins, the Pharisees were too rigid to accept Jesus, who could not be contained in their religions and rules. Christianity required new approaches, new traditions, new structures. Our church programs and ministries should not be so structured that they have no room for a fresh touch of the spirit, a new method, or a new idea. We, too, must be careful that our hearts do not become so rigid that they prevent us from accepting the new way of thinking that Christ brings. We need to keep our hearts pliable so we can accept Jesus' life-changing message."

Got me thinking... Christianity was kind of a rebel-religion. Don't sue me for blasphemy - I'm not saying it was wrong. I'm just saying it was the "new thing" and the greater part of society strongly condemned it. It was new. It dared to break the boundaries of societies, it dared to be different.

So how come we are so rigid today? How come we are so serious about dogma and paperwork and tradition when clearly being a follower of Christ entails SO MUCH MORE?

It reminded me of something a member of the site http://www.christianforums.com/ said in response to an atheist teenager's tale of persecution at school for his lack of religion. Paraphrased, it was something like this: "Tell them they are being ignorant and not following the principles of their religion. This is the problem with religion becoming culture. Religion is not supposed to become culture, because then it becomes grounds for discrimination."

Just sideways, I find it mildly entertaining and terrible tragic that America is quick to judge abuses of human rights in other parts of the world, but just as quick to judge Islam, atheism and homosexuality. Because Americans base their laws and lives on Christianity. Which, if you understand what Christianity is about - love, mercy - is not an altogether bad thing. Except, very few people get it.

If you are going to be non-judgemental, loving, merciful... by all means, call yourself a Christian.

But if not? If you are going to persecute those with different beliefs, if you are going to be a rigid wineskin...

...please, don't give the rest of us who are really trying a bad name.

Interest's Sake

This blog will be anonymous - it is something I need desperately because notes on Facebook just don't cut it anymore and I don't always want the people there to read what I write. So my name is not important - nobody who knows me probably even comes to this site.

Here is what might be of interest:

• I am a January 1990-kid
• I am South African
• There are no lions in my backyard, I do have two cats and a dog and hamsters though
• I am leaving school soon - 4 exams left to write
• I love chocolate, my favourites being Beacons Caramel Biscotti Slab, M&Ms and Hershey's Kisses - in that order.
• Macaroni and Cheese is probably the best invention after chocolate
• Meat is not so cool and only to be eaten when force-fed
• Stir-fry is the one thing I cannot get down my throat

• I am liberal.
• I am fanatic about justice, equality and freedom - do not get in my way.
• My beliefs may be a bit odd sometimes, but they are driven by a sense of morality.
• I try to be a follower of Christ. It doesn't work so well sometimes, but I do try.
• "I am oddball" - I try not to care. Deal with it.

• The loss of culture in our world is one of the things I consider a greatest tragedy.
• Books are your friends!
• Regarding books and movies - I can't do the horror-thing.
• Otherwise, any good craftsmanship is appreciated. Even action and thriller, but I will always enjoy those that reveal society most, like historical stuff.
• With regards to music, anything besides house and heavy metal that tries to have good lyrics.

• I am going to change the world one day... watch me.

Realization

I had a sad realization somewhere during the past few days (I still don't know how to spell realization).

He has become exactly what I wanted him to be when we met 4 years and 5 months ago.

Granted, I had been scarred by men.
Granted, I had hardened myself beyond reproach.
Granted, I still had much to learn about who I was and what I really wanted and needed.

But the kind of guy I desired, deep down, was one that was macho, wouldn't cry in front of me and wouldn't smother me.

He was manly, of course. But he got attached to me so easily. He trusted me completely and wanted me to solve all his problems. He would cry in front of me. He would do anything for me. He kept trying to get me to go places with him. He told me he loved me so often.

I hated him.
He didn't give up.
He taught me how to love again...

But I am seeing the damage of our fights, my insults, now.

When we fight nowadays he gets angry quickly.
I can't remember when last I saw him cry and he gets angry with me when I cry.
He isn't open to me talking about stuff anymore.
He doesn't keep trying to do adorable things.

It seems that I am forever trying to change circumstances and am never happy with the results...
Would if I had left him as he was?
That's the boy I fell in love with, but now he has turned into someone the oyunger me wanted.

All I want now is him.

I feel hopeless.

Sometimes I think we should break up, the time of magic is over...
but then I think of Shakespeare's Let me not to the marriage of true minds... and I can't, oh I can't because I know something in my heart that my mind just cannot fathom yet - or that my mind has forgotten.

We have spoken about ending things.

But neither of us has the guts to do it.

That one week we spent broken up in June caused so much damage already.

I don't know.
I don't know.
I just... want things to be good again. Like we both deserve...

...even the worste people deserve love.