I’ve lived in a lot of places in my life. I was born in South Africa, and we lived for the first five or six years of my life in a semi-rural area, with about ten acres and a lot of trees and animals. We then moved, I think, to a rental, then another home and finally a big house in the suburbs. (Life was luxurious in those days for many South Africans.). When I was eight, my parents (one English, one South African) decided to give their four children a childhood of freedom, not the menacing, cloistered, violent childhood they saw looming in years to come in our beautiful land. They moved us to Australia, a move that had profound effects on all of us, particularly my older sister and I. Moving is stressful for children, let alone emigrating to a new land. You lose all that you hold dear, all that is familiar. For us, we moved to a place where we had no extended family for thousands of kilometres.
I remember always feeling a little ‘different’ – the way I talked, behaved, the life experiences I had had. We had always travelled a lot overseas as a family in my growing up years, and I think I had quite a broad worldview even then. Once here in Australia, we moved a couple of times again, involving new schools each time. When I look back, I think I can count about eight different schools that I attended.
Once I finished university, I took off for London, where I lived for two and half years. Those were some of the best years of my life – meeting new people, relying on God like never before, travelling to new and beautiful lands. The world seemed so big and so small, both at the same time. I discovered that beneath the cultural and geographic exteriors, we are all the same, really. We all eat and drink and wash and play and talk and laugh and love and dream. We all have plans for a family and a future, and we all work for similar goals. Around the world, people are just people. We are not that different from each other.
Coming home, I found that no-one really wanted to hear about my experiences. Life goes on for people, and our own lives and experiences are what we are most involved with. I remember feeling a sense of restlessness, a sense of not belonging. Was I South African? Australian? English? My heart was in all those lands. I fell in love with many places around the globe in the following years. Now, when I land in Singapore or Cambodia there is a distinct sense of ‘coming home’. Many places have a small piece of my heart.
I’ve often thought about patriotism. Having led the life I have, and living in three different countries, no one place feels like my home country. I believe this is not a bad thing. The bible tells us that He has put eternity in our hearts, that our existence here is but a blink of an eye. If we feel passionate about our earthly home, and love it at the cost of loving other nations, we are forgetting that the Lord has told us He has given us all nations. He tells us to go out into the whole world, sharing the Truth of His Son. I’m not saying we should not defend our nations against agressors. I’m just wondering if a national pride prevents us from loving the nations as they should be loved. If our fierce pride in the land of our birth prevents us from living as though this is only our temporary home. If it leads to us thinking that our nationality and culture is the best one, not just one of many that God loves equally. Having that sense of not really belonging completely anywhere means that I live with the knowlege of eternity, that my life is in heaven, not just in this one nation here on earth. It means that if the Lord tells us to go – it is a little easier to leave ‘home’ because our identity is not in a place but in a Person.
Filed under: life
- Right now my husband is vacuuming the flowers. Yes, that would be flowers. They dropped a little pollen on the table, so I guess he is pre-empting the next occurence of this event.
- I bought some three-quarter length jeans yesterday, and the waist is a little higher than I’m used to (I did not notice this yesterday.). When I sit down, the waist comes above my belly button. I feel like I’m being strangled. Is this weird?
Filed under: school
My students come out with some beautiful comments. They certainly need recording for posterity’s sake.
- A couple of weeks ago the nurse came to take some of the students to have their eyes tested. This led to a big discussion on The Eye and how it operates. I pointed out that we can only see a small part of the actual eye – it is really a big ball. This seemed to horrify them and they begged me to stop. We then discussed how the eye works, and I drew some simple diagrams, explaining also what happens when you are short-sighted or long-sighted. Of course, this then led to the ear, the brain, the hand and so on. It was one of those great lessons that are so meaningful and relevant, although unplanned. At the end of it, someone looked at me with wide eyes, shaking her head. “Miss, you are so clever. Did you used to be a doctor?” (Yes, I left my successful medical practice in order to take up teaching.)
- Last Wednesday it was the Year Twelve students’ last day. We were about to head off to the final assembly so I said to my class, “Today is a special day. Do you know what day it is?”
“Is this the day they change the clocks? Oh, Miss, that is very bad! How can they DO that?” Lots of nods of agreement and looks of approbation. “Miss, this is so bad! Is God going to come back???” Light dawned, and I explained that the sun would be doing the exact same thing it did before, and that the planetary alignment would remain the same. I assured them that God wasn’t going to come back (to my knowlege, unless He is vehemently opposed to daylight saving, I guess). They were not planning to shift the entire earth in order to accomodate our desire for an extra hour’s light. The relief was palpable, and this led to a great lesson on Time, and how man began to apply time to the ‘movement of the sun’ in order to accomodate our busy lives. It brought to my mind again how time-focussed we are; for many of these students, growing up in rural Africa, time until now has consisted of the sun coming up and the sun going down again. Actually, these were the same students who asked the science teacher if God was happy about Man travelling to the moon and so on. Don’t you LOVE their naive and beautiful hearts?!
- And yesterday. I had to do duty on the oval, which is being dug up in order to lay new grass. My shoes were filled with sand and when I got back to class after lunch, although I had shaken them out my feet were still brown with dust. I keep a supply of baby wipes in the drawer for such events, and took one out and began to quickly wipe down my feet. One of my sweet girls looked at me and said, “Miss, let me clean your feet.” A little lump rose in my throat as I was reminded of a Man who did the same thing many years ago. There are many, many teenagers at school who typify every negative behaviour and attitude associated with the age. There, in my room, was one who just wanted to serve her teacher in a practical way. Not in a gazillion years would an normal teen offer to do the same thing. Some of these kids are just exceptional and I consider it a privilege to participate in moments such as these. Although I didn’t let her wash my feet, I don’t think I will forget that little moment.
