© May 25, 2018 | Schulter Etyang My previous post was about Jesus and his attraction to chaos. Jesus uses chaos to his advantage for your good. He is a master at turning chaos into beauty. I also wrote that chaos is the connecting dot or link to God’s superabounding grace. Without chaos, grace has no purpose. Without grace, chaos destroys. Chaos and grace work hand in hand. They need each other. I would like to point out something else that grace does after it deals with the chaos. Grace imparts wisdom. There is a story that illustrates this truth so succinctly. (2 Kings 4:1-7 NKJV)
© May 23, 2018 | Schulter Etyang I hate chaos. I’m sure it’s an elder kid dynamic, but I hate chaos. I can smell chaos from a mile. I avoid chaotic people and situations like the plague. I am constantly trying to set things in order. I will notice dirty dishes lying in the sink and wash them. I will live in an ordered house. I like it when people queue. I prefer riding in a clean car. When Jenny and I go on holiday, I normally clean the house before we leave. In my mind, I don’t want to come back to a disorderly house. I want to come back, unpack, and relax. Jenny has suffered the brunt of my hate for chaos. I make crude remarks when I notice that she is chaotic. One of those crude remarks I have unleashed on her is, “chaos is your middle name.” Can you imagine? Bad. I know. But when she gets the opportunity to unleash the same line on me, she does it masterfully. And when …
unsplash-logoWilliam Stitt © May 21, 2018 | Schulter Etyang Imagine a poisonous snake has bitten you. Its venom is quickly spreading through your body. You are in shock, your blood pressure lowers, your eyelids are drooping and you are getting weaker and weaker. You are thirsty, vomiting and nauseating, sweating, and you have difficulty breathing. You are about to die. Suddenly, a man appears and tells you that he has a cure for the dangerous venom that is about to kill you. Desperate and in pain you ask for the cure – assuming you are not the type that’s too proud to ask for help. You have no choice here. If you don’t get the cure, you will die. Then, this man tells you, “Ok, here’s the cure. Look up and keep on looking at that brass snake on the pole. That’s your cure.” What? This is preposterous, you would say. C’mon, are you kidding me? Are you joking? Is this a sick joke? This is absurd and borderline obnoxious.
© January 16, 2018 | Schulter Etyang Growing up, chapati or roti (as its known here in South Africa) was a favourite meal in my family. My mother made chapati for us on weekends, and on special occasions such as birthdays, Easter and Christmas celebrations. When you saw her gathering the ingredients for making chapati, your heart beat with excitement and your salivary glands did a dance. It wasn’t until after I got married, that I really learnt how to cook chapati. I had assumed that I’d never need to learn how to make chapati until I discovered how much Jenny loved them. Roti’s origins are traced back to the Indian subcontinent. In South Africa, roti is a main delicacy amongst Indians and the colored community. Jenny’s family lives in Durban, which is the epicentre of the Indian community. Indians arrived in South Africa in 1860 to work as slaves at the sugarcane plantations. It is proper to say that their influence has spilled over into many cuisines and dinner tables.