RedeemedPioneer

A life lost, a lesson learnt   “Look Nana, this is the lady we saw in the store last week.  She was the...

The perception of imperfection   “Look, Amelia, it’s a helper monkey!  He is helping the poor fishy.”...

—my Gethsemane, revisited— I sit there, in the darkness It gnaws on my bones It smothers my soul It is so...

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Not the whole picture…. Last year I wrote STIL SKEPPER, STERK STORMS EN ‘N STUKKENDE STRANDHUISIE (click...

I find myself in a place where I have a deep desire and yearning to consider the pure goodness of the Lord,...

Three passages of Scripture have grabbed a particular hold on my heart over the last days and weeks.  Upon...

A journey from the heart of the Forgotten Capital to the outskirts of the Mother City for a thirty-ninth...

“Hello Zinzi.”   “Hello Mikey, how can I help you?”   “I feel overwhelmed, Zinzi.  Nobody listens...

I have been around long enough to know and admit that when end-of-year fatigue hits, we tend to disconnect...

  You introduced Spring 1995 And Spring became like you Force of nature, a whole season You came to...

A silent call to discernment “Nana, what is a foghorn?” “A foghorn is a powerfully loud, low-pitched warning...

When a concerned Catholic priest called a spade a shovel and nailed the truth, in written word, to a wooden...

Another letter from Nana to Stitchie