Not the whole picture….
Last year I wrote STIL SKEPPER, STERK STORMS EN ‘N STUKKENDE STRANDHUISIE (click here to read) an Afrikaans story inspired by a pitiful, dilapidated ruin on a prime property of the Ballito beachfront. A quintessential blighted property, this uninhabitable hollow shell has been standing on its foundation since 2007, and I can confirm that 19 years later, in 2026, it is still there.
However, this year the same little house inspired something different — not a story, but rather a reflection.
I look at the wretched little house, an eyesore misfit surrounded by magnificent multimillion rand mansions, and I am reminded of the kind of people who were drawn to Jesus, the most repulsive, vile and detestable of all mortals. Not only did they seek Him out, but He sought them out also. In fact, He proclaimed that He came to seek and save them. He healed, delivered, restored, validated and uplifted the rejected and abandoned. He served and ministered to the misfits, castaways and degenerates of society.
I look at the wretched little house and I am reminded of how Jesus taught that we have to die to ourselves in order to embrace the life He gave us. In all likelihood, this little house would need to be completely demolished and rebuilt from scratch if anyone ever hopes to live in it. In much the same way, we need to take down and let go of every part of self in our lives as daily acts of complete surrender to Him.
I look at the wretched little house and I am reminded of how beautifully it portrays a visual representation of Old Testament prophet Habakkuk’s words. He so vividly describes the desperate state of utter desolation surrounding him — the hopelessness inside the void of everything needed to sustain life. However, he also proceeds to reveal the undeniable hope and strength inside his being which testifies of his life completely surrendered to the Most High Living God. Furthermore, Habakkuk praises God for enabling him to navigate treachously high cliffs like an ibex. It is such a powerful image of trust and strength amid adversity. The ibex has to keep moving with agility and surefootedness on near-vertical mountain cliffs in order to stay safe from predators while being subjected to the extreme risk of fatal plunges whenever precision is compromised.
Using the 2 Corinthians 5 metaphor of tent dwellings, we are all, essentially, fixtures living on the broken side of eternity. Until we reach that great border of eternity, we are subjected to brokenness of various degrees in every aspect of this life. However, over two thousand years ago, in the ultimate act of self-sacrifice, Jesus paid with His perfect life to secure for us a perfect life on the perfect side of eternity. We embrace that eternal hope by faith in Him, fixing our eyes on Him (not self) and through following Him in complete surrender.
Truth be told, I spent much time in self-reflection, contemplating my own brokenness (and desperate need for fixing thereof) in light of the above-mentioned truths. I spent hours weeping and pleading. I forcefully ripped my heart apart to reveal its deepest secrets. More weeping and pleading followed. And then the penny dropped…. I realised that while I had my eyes fixed on Jesus and I opened my whole heart to Him, I was still hanging onto that pesky “little” self!
Self-reflection became reflection. We are broken fixtures. Sometimes our brokenness is fixed and other times it is not. While Jesus fixed some of the brokenness of the wretched people around Him, there are no evidence to suggest that Habakkuk’s brokenness was fixed. It is only in complete surrender of our lives to Him that we find that our fixation on fixing our brokenness actually fixes nothing at all.
“Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.” —John 12:23-26 NIV
“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights. For the director of music. On my stringed instruments.” —Habakkuk 3:17-19 NIV
“For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight.” —2 Corinthians 5:1, 6-7 NIV
Lulu, I’m reading this reflection during a time of deep, personal soul-searching in my own life.
Yes, I immediately recognised the photo of that pitiful, abandoned house standing there among the mansions of seemingly carefree, privileged people. Last year already, that reflection in Afrikaans touched me deeply. Now, this year, we have been granted the immense grace of being alone together in a time of serious illness. How precious it is to be able to talk, to communicate, to experience the small joys of a diminished life as though they were well-aged wine.
It is also sobering to face the question: “Just how good, how virtuous, how truly within the will of God have we, together and I personally, lived the first phases of the life God has given us?”
There is only one answer—and others may pass it by, just as they pass that dilapidated old house by the sea. The answer is Psalm 53:3:
“They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one.”
The fact that humanity is as it is—and that we are as humanity is—offers no comfort at all.
Thank you for the Word of God, Lulu.
And, LORD, make me each day a kernel of wheat that falls to the ground and dies. For the self will always remain a strange and repulsive ruin—and a useless instrument with which You can accomplish little. Amen.
Dear Maretha, thank you so very much for your wisdom and for sharing it with such tender vulnerability. Another Old Testament prophet, Isaiah, states that our own acts of righteousness are mere “filthy rags” compared to the righteousness of God. May we, wretched ruins filled with filthy rags, let go of the “self” and surrender to our Lord and Saviour. 🙏🏼
I spent hours weeping and pleading. I forcefully ripped my heart apart to reveal its deepest secrets. More weeping and pleading followed. And then the penny dropped…. I realised that while I had my eyes fixed on Jesus and I opened my whole heart to Him, I was still hanging onto that pesky “little” self!
Lulu, hierdie woorde van jou is so bekend en tog voel dit asof ek dit te lank terug gedoen het. Dit voel asof ek weer deur hierdie proses moet gaan van selfondersoek, uitpluis wat werklik hier binne in my hart aangaan. Die laaste ruk, keer ek myself voordat ek by hierdie uitkom, want dan kom mens se emosies mos by jou oë uit. Ek moet ophou om myself te keer, en toe te laat om weer te breek, sodat…………..
Dankie vir jou!
Liewe Charnetta, baie dankie vir jou getroue waarderende ondersteuning asook vir hierdie kwesbaar-eerlike comment!❤️