The Chamber – Part 3

<Continued from Part 2>

My eyelids continuously slammed shut – my eyes could not tolerate the overwhelming light for too long. I was grateful that my two polished bronze shields could brace the light’s mighty impact. It gave my eyes the merciful opportunity to cower within my skull, as though they were two scared guards. Their backs pressed hard against the wall of my mind and caused me to churn nervous thoughts, which quickly spread and infected the rest of my now shivering body. But an unknown force breathed marrow into them – and with the crack of a whip they rushed to open the bronze windows and braved the bleached world outside.

I stared in a throbbing stupor as He kneeled down and thoroughly washed my feet with a warm white cloth. His actions cranked open my eyes’ tiny, shiny waterfalls, and caused me to groan with deep, shame filled weeps.

He gently tended my gaping wounds, and slowly fed me something wholesome to eat. Then, with the grace and power of the most righteous king, He whispered life into me – oh a word in a poem so sweet. However, just when I started to taste the honey bursting from the new heart within me, he unexpectedly sliced off a strange piece of meat:
“My son it is time now to start believing, faith will provide the strength to your feet.”

And with that, the room emptied – but somehow I knew it did not just contain the dirt and crumbs that I used to call me. Enlightened, and with the dastardly vigour of a mountain, I slowly got up from my seat. I was still groggy, and blind, but there was one thing I could see. It was a chest, made from black locks, brown locks and brass locks – but no key.

I sluggishly stewed my rags over to it, and found that one was pleasantly unlocked. Within it, it was written “He is the solid rock”, and woven straight through it was a thin metal wire, which sheepishly ran amok. It went into others – with all of them being rudely, stubbornly, tightly locked. But I noticed, the one in my hand, it turned into a key. I tugged its wire gently, which then rang loudly and turned into luminated gold.

I saw the other lock it wound into! I then inserted and twisted my newly shaped key, which caused it to quickly pop open with a tinkle and a tweet. On its shackle was written “as the staff hit the rock”, and on its case “the water burst forth”. But as this one’s wire dug deeper, its twinkling tone of gold got lost. It seemed like this chest would take forever to open, but I had time and hunger, for now it surely took no real cost. So, I blissfully sucked in dry air and continued my perusal forth. 

Sadly, time ticked on and on.

It took me days, nay, it took weeks. I studied it, dragged it, hammered it, but no other lock would slip free. I could not force it. I could not break it. The only thing that changed was the stomach-turning fire and ice that accumulated within me. Doubt crept in, and hate, and fear. It all became hazy, why would it all not just disappear? I knew it for sure, I knew nothing.

I sat in the corner, I gave up, was depressed, and constantly whined. It seemed I could not do it, I COULD NOT DO IT! I finally broke and screamed at it all. Who was this Samaritan who simply left me? “Where are you, you traitor!? What’s faith? It’s killing me!”

Then an unknown flame roasted within me. “That’s the point.” my heart softly whispered into my crying ear.

It seemed that the death of me – was still, exactly, the point. 

I could not do it.

But, by faith, He could!

Tree Terug en Vra

Jy meet my op
met jou liniaal
van reg en verkeerd
en word ek
opgesom om
die een te wees
wat myself af skei
blind beweeg soos
‘n muis in ‘n tonnel

van onoorspronklikheid

kom die dood
want jy word versmoor
en die vleeslike
neem dalk oor
want om myself
uit te vee
deur myself
te gee
gee vir jou niks

om meer te leef

beteken ek moet
leer om myself
te wees en
om te kan
triomfeer maar
rigting kom nie

uit mens self uit

kan min oorwin
want dis uit krag

wat mens nie het nie

kan jy kry as jy Hom maar net vra.

Jou Begeerte

My honger
besef ek nou
is na jou


en hoe meer
Ek jou gesoek het
hoe meer
het Ek
myself verloor
eintlik vermoor

jou dalk versmoor

want jy kon
nog nie
en my toelaat
om jou wêreld
te word nie.

En ek het
met my rou hart
vir jou ‘n hawe
probeer skep
maar jou skeep
het sover net
in die oseaan
bly lê.


Eensaamheid krap
aan my verwaarlose deur
soos ‘n onskuldige hondjie
aan ‘n koue staal plaat.

Dit kerm soos die skerp wind
deur die leë hoeke
van verbrokkelde murasies
in ‘n droë Namibiese woestyn.

Wanneer daag
my hawe uiteindelik op?
Wanneer verlig haar lewende oë
hierdie doodstil vertrek?

Hoekom sleep my siel so swaar
aan hierdie blou anker
wat my geswikte enkel
aan die harde seebodem haak?

Moet ek groot en wys word?
Net besef waar ek geplaas is?
Is ek so geheg aan die bekende
dat ek ‘n onbekende diepte mis?

Verlig asseblief my siel o Vader!
Ek smag om te sien
hoe U my deur hierdie
skeurende eensaamheid wil bedien.

Om te Los

om te los
te skei
om te pos
te sny

die grond
van gras
die hond
van blaf

maak dit vry
om te isoleer?
maak dit bly
om te ignoreer?

is God liefde
in my en jou?
is Sy briewe
in ons toegevou?

moet nie versmoor
hoe sal hul Hom sien?
moet nie stoor
hoe sal Hy hul bedien?

God het ‘n agenda met
jy daar en jy daar
God smag eenheid tussen
jy daar en jy daar.

kyk verby die balke
na die lig binne
kyk vanaf die hemele
na Sy groter prente.

…asseblief ❤

Wemelende Wanorde

Dit is maar met
‘n lang lyf
wat mens moeg
die horrel huis
bedaard betree
en sieldodend sien
dat die klosse kakiebos
dit nog oerwoudelik oorrompel.

Dis maar ‘n seer straf
nadat jy klaar kapoet
heeldag heen-en-weer 
die buite grond gaar
bewend bewerk
het en dan nog nodig
het om jou hele huis
van ‘n orige orkaan
se slap skade
treurig terug te timmer
na hoe dit waarlik was
die vorige ander aand.

Gee ons krag vrymoedige Vader
ons voel versmoor
deur pleitend te probeer
om die ordinêre orde
van kop bo bakke bly
volhoubaar te volhou
en as blerrie beloning
vyf sakkies sekondes
oor te hê om net neerhalend
en moer moeg
ons pakke passies
te moet laat groetend gly
want ons sukkel so
om na al die orde se skep
net wakker te probeer bly.

Cape Point

To Eat from the Tree of Life 2

A while ago (4 years) I wrote an article about a truth God revealed to me. Fortunately, I now have a deeper understanding on it! The essence of what I understood before: all works, no matter how good it might seem are dead works (insufficient, unsatisfactory, meager) if it does not flow from the heart of God. But now I will explain my new/deeper understanding.

In short: I now understand that God establishes His character in us. With that, His seeds planted in us grow to maturity and bring forth fruit to eat. Thus, we are changed from a slave (who always waits for exact instructions from God), to a son who knows (the Truth) when to sow, when to reap and when to do that all the things (and more!) he saw the Father doing as he was busy growing up. But there are two very important things tied in with this, both feed into the fact that He is our daily bread:

  • As Jesus stated, we firstly need to love God our Father with all we have got – this means relationship.
  • We should be weary of when the cloud moves. More on this below.

To step back, before this deeper understanding I used to live in a space where I would sometimes feel self-condemnation. I felt some of my works were dead because they did not flow from an explicit prompting by the Holy Spirit. But now I know that where God has established His character in me, there will be good fruit to eat, and works flowing from that does not always have to originate with an explicit thought coming from Him. But I definitely still need my daily Bread to be able to live and be continously transformed in the areas in me that need to be taken from glory to glory! And Jesus stays our ‘head’ – we must always be sensitive and submit to His will/guidance no matter to what degree of glory He has transformed us.

Backing it up with scripture

God’s transformation of our character

It happens as we see the glory of the Lord revealed in us. Scripture states that as we walk in Him and we see His glory in us (we look in a mirror and see His glory) we are then transformed to that image by the Spirit of the Lord.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty [emancipation from bondage, true freedom]. 18 And we all, with unveiled face, continually seeing as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are progressively being transformed into His image from [one degree of] glory to [even more] glory, which comes from the Lord, [who is] the Spirit.

2Co 3:17-18

The son that expands upon the works of the Father

“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father.

Joh 14:12

The cloud that moves

Just like the glory faded from Moses’ face, and God’s presence faded from the holiest of holies in the temple, we need to watch where God is moving and not stick to simple rhymes and structures (which God establishes initially and has great power/effect, but which fades or grows stale). Thus we need to steer away from the things we make laws (aka religion) to replace the Living God – and keep our focus on Him as he moves. Manna only lasted a day (well two if there was a Sabath) – see Exodus 16:21.

and we are not like Moses, who used to put a veil over his face so that the Israelites would not gaze at the end of the glory which was fading away.

2 Cor 3:13

The [presence of the] Lord was going before them by day in a pillar (column) of cloud to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night to give them light, so that they could travel by day and by night.

Exodus 13:21

Prevent Dead Works

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven.22 Many will say to Me on that day [when I judge them], ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, and driven out demons in Your name, and done many miracles in Your name?’ 23 And then I will declare to them publicly, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me [you are banished from My presence], you who act wickedly [disregarding My commands].’

Mat 7:21-23

Putting God first, your neighbor (and yourself) second

and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul (life), and with all your mind (thought, understanding), and with all your strength.’ 31 This is the second: ‘You shall [unselfishly] love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

Mar 12:30-31

End note

One of the most valuable experiences God blessed me with the past week, was stepping out of my comfort zone to share His love with the people that came across my path. The more I simply stepped out to share the love He has for those who do not know it (and even those who do), the more I experienced His love (in such a deep and almost unbelievable way) for myself. I can truly say it is blessed to give and step out in faith. I pray for all of us reading this that we would let His river of love run through us, and not simply keep it locked up inside. People are dying every day without ever getting to know the love of God.


Waarom blyk haar tronk-gedompelde hart,
Onder die staat se standaard part;
‘n bloedbevlekte, brakbruin uniform,
so vrek naby aan die dood se dodenorm?

Het die lewe dalk ‘n skelm skoot geplant,
Of ‘n beenkrakende panzer-slag laat land,
Sodat die briesend-vriesende lug,
‘n gaping kon vind en in haar hart in vlug?

Of het die partydige – dalk vyandige – blik-koppe
Met hul hoë definisie fosfor gloeilampe
En knor van duisende krullende induktors
Haar neuronbane laat verander in gekruide wors?

Is dit dalk soos met ‘n klein pienk pasgeborene?
Verlang sy na die eenvoudigste vorme van menseverhoudinge;
Fisiese kontak, en die basuin van haar hart-sirene?
Sodat wie okal naby is haar net kan hoor en sus tot vrede.

Ek vermoed haar hart, soos myne vandag,
Benodig die eenvoudige wedersydse fluister se krag,
Tussen ons en ons Skepper, ons eerste Liefde,
Want daarsonder bly die diepste dele van ons harte klaarblyklik… Dood.


Ek slaat my moë oë op na die vertes
en na die grys en blou gebergtes:
O van watter groen tit of bruin tuit
sal my noodhulp vandaan spruit?

Almal het hul sewe sakke sout om te sleep,
en die wêreld se kloue wat aan hul hakke vreet,
maar waarom sal ons onverstandig fluit,
en boonop als, nóg vlees-messe slyp?

Hoekom knor en bor ons soos dagblinde vyande,
en wurm ons ons hondsdolle stomp tande
in mekaar se snerpende seer snyplekke –
wat ons net verder onvergewend laat verskewe?

Wanneer spuug ons hemels-helende vuur,
gegenereer uit ons gees se natuur?
In plaas dat ons kwyl, met bruisende borrels,
wat lyk en ruik na jaaroue vleeskleurige kerriekots.

O my hulp spruit vanuit die liefdeshart van die Here,
die skepper van die nabye hemel en die verregaande aarde,
ja mag Hy die splinters en die balke in die niet in laat verdwyne.