Skip to main content

**The Attitude Adjustment**

 

Here in Akasia, Pretoria, the sun beats down relentlessly. Life here, like life anywhere, can feel like a relentless *umkhonto* fight. One minute you're basking in the warmth, the next you're dodging potholes and loadshedding.

The other day, my car broke down – right in the middle of a busy intersection. My initial reaction? A furious, frustrated outburst. The *umkhonto* felt like it was pointed directly at my chest. This was hardship, raw and undeniable. But then, slowly, a different thought pricked my conscience. This spear, this frustrating situation, wasn’t inherently evil. It was just… *a situation*. My *attitude* determined whether it would wound me or become a catalyst for something better.

I remember my *ouma*’s potjiekos. She always said the secret wasn’t just the meat, but the balance of spices. Too much salt, and the whole thing was ruined. Too much chilli, and your mouth was on fire, but not in a good way. My life, my faith, feels much the same. I can choose to react with bitterness, with the fiery heat of resentment, or I can find the grace, the gentle sweetness to see the situation differently.

Choosing a positive attitude isn't about sticking my head in the sand. It’s about actively choosing how I respond to the challenges. Did I get towed out of that intersection with a smile? No. But I did manage to thank the tow truck driver. And I did make a mental note to check my car’s oil more regularly. That's a small victory.

We, as Christians, carry a powerful weapon – not a spear, but the love of Christ. It’s a weapon not for destruction, but for building bridges, for extending compassion. That broken-down car? It might have been an inconvenience, but it also brought a unexpected kindness from a stranger. It offered a chance for reflection, a small moment of grace.

The *umkhonto* remains neutral. It's our heart that determines how we wield it. The choice remains ours. Here in my Akasia home, I choose to believe that even amidst the chaos, God is working, shaping, and refining my faith, one spice at a time. The question isn't whether life throws *umkhonto* at us, but whether we choose to forge them into something beautiful or allow them to pierce our souls.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

**Restoring Relationships**

Last Tuesday, during Eskom’s Stage 6 load-shedding, I sat in my dimly lit Akasia living room, staring at a WhatsApp message from my cousin Thabo. Our once-close bond had fractured over a political debate—ANC vs. EFF—that spiraled into personal jabs. His text read: *“You’ve become a coconut, bra. Black on the outside, white-washed inside.”* My reply? A venomous *“At least I’m not a populist clown.”* Pride, that sly serpent, had coiled around our tongues.   But as the generator hummed and my coffee cooled, Colossians 3:13 flickered in my mind like a candle in the dark: *“Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”* Unconditional. No asterisks. No “but he started it.” Just grace.   **II. The Theology of Broken Pipes**   South Africa knows fractures. Our Vaal River, choked by sewage and neglect, mirrors relational toxicity—grievances left to fester. Yet, Christ’s forgiveness isn’t a passive drip; it’s a flash flood. To “bear with one another” (Colossians 3:13) is to choo...
Post a Comment
Read more

**Cultivating Patience**

 ## The Divine Delay: When God Hits Pause on Your Breakthrough (From My Akasia Veranda) Brothers, sisters, let me tell you, this Highveld sun beating down on my veranda in Akasia isn’t just baking the pavement. It’s baking my *impatience*. You know the feeling? You’ve prayed, you’ve declared, you’ve stomped the devil’s head (in the spirit, naturally!), yet that breakthrough? It feels like waiting for a Gautrain on a public holiday schedule – promised, but mysteriously absent. Psalm 27:14 shouts: *"Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage!"* But waiting? In *this* economy? With Eskom plunging us into darkness and the price of a loaf of bread climbing faster than Table Mountain? It feels less like divine strategy and more like celestial sabotage. I get it. Just last week, stuck in the eternal queue at the Spar parking lot (seems half of Tshwane had the same pap-and-chops craving), watching my dashboard clock tick towards yet another loadshedding slot, my ow...
Post a Comment
Read more

**Rejecting Shame Through Identity in Christ**

  I live in Akasia, Tshwane, where the jacarandas paint Pretoria’s streets with purple hope each spring. From my modest home, I watch the city hum—buses rattling down Paul Kruger Street, hawkers calling out at the Wonderpark Mall, and the chatter of students spilling from TUT’s gates. Life here is vibrant, yet beneath the surface, many of us carry an unseen weight: shame. It’s a thief that whispers lies about our worth, chaining us to past mistakes or societal labels. As a Christian writer, I’ve wrestled with this shadow myself, and I’ve learned that only one truth can break its grip—our identity in Christ. Let me take you on a journey through my own story, weaving it with the tapestry of South African life and the radiant promise of Scripture, to confront shame and embrace who we are in Him. ### A Personal Tale of Shame’s Grip A few years ago, I stood at a crossroads. I’d just lost a job I loved—a writing gig at a local magazine in Pretoria. The editor said my work was “too confro...
Post a Comment
Read more