Month: December 2016

The fight for the lives of people created in the image of God

The fight for the lives of people created in the image of God By Johannes Adriaan Snyman I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples. – Mother Theresa The moment one start to lose the significance of what we are doing, the moment one losses perspective on the importance of the struggle we find ourselves in, at that moment we are the most vulnerable facing the very threats, each and every individual faces, struggling with addiction. What we do, though not always visible and even though on so many different levels, is no different from the firemen or paramedics and policemen saving so many lives every day. And like them, we cannot save every life that crosses our path, but through what we do, lives do get saved, and yes, most of the time there are no credit given for success. We don’t do what we do for credit or reward, or even because it is expected of us. We do it because of who we are, and when it comes to maters of the human being, that is crucial to making a difference. One can have all the knowledge, all the theory, and all the will power in the world, if the love, compassion and connection with people are lacking, then all effort will be in vain....

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The Struggle is real

The Struggle is real By Johannes Adriaan Snyman Where is your struggle? Where is your real? I would tell you about a rose garden proper The joyous laughter of an English tea The glorious delight soaking in the purest of discourse. Yet the rusty chains of being weighed and found wanting, Simmering one down to the deepest black of pits, reveals to us both, this broken world, battered with mourning.   Where is your struggle? Where is your real? I would show you the kingdom of God Bursting forth out of souls of children Wearing nothing but the vivid bright of white The essence of a humble simplicity Covered in richness more than heart could wish for. Alas! The somber grey veil covering our eyes, Our faces, our being, Lamentably hauling the passion from our fragile nature.   Indeed! The struggle is real. Yet when, experienced from within The safety of a loving hand Instilling every calculated serene reflection Graciously defining the blink of our existence Constantly adding a sweet aroma of soothing moral fiber Flooding the mind with an ever-increasing calm. Higher ground is found, The spirit of heaviness lifted, Perceived fear has lost its harm, Your tension is forevermore released. Tell me if you may, Where is your struggle? Where is your real?  ...

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Avo and Rosy

Avo and Rosy By Johannes Adriaan Snyman Once upon a time there was an avocado tree by the name of Avo. Avo was an evergreen tree whose leaves did not whither. He was bearing much fruit in his season. Avo was a young tree but he stood firm in the ground, receiving fresh water from a fresh water brook next to it. Close by grew a tremendously beautiful, young grape vine. Her name was Vine. Vine had many sweet looking grapes, and both Avo and Vine were delighted to speak to each other. They took a significant liking in each other and both agreed that they wanted to grow next to each other, both drawing water from the same brook. Avo’s desire was however that they keep drinking from the same water stream and that they not grow their branches intertwined with one another until an agreed upon and appointed time. Avo remembered how, long ago, he allowed a beautiful lemon tree to grow all around him from top to bottom. They enjoyed of each other’s fruit in abundance, but after a while a rottenness in the roots of the lemon tree, started weakening her branches, and the dependence on Avo was so great, that he was not only hindered in growth, but also prevented from bearing fruit and even of drinking water from the stream. But it was...

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An unnatural smile

An unnatural smile By Johannes Adriaan Snyman Eleanor Van Dyk was aware of a very uneasy, unnatural smile, as she looked at the bold headed man sitting diagonally across her. Ever so often, Eleanor could see through people, as if through visions and pictures, it was shown to her, either the immediate state of a person, for instance what the person is struggling with, or sometimes she could see what was going to happen to the particular person concerning the nearby future. Naturally she didn’t always utter in a verbal manner what it was she saw, as she came to realize that people’s reaction to her visions weren’t always favorable. Yet she only saw vaguely, that what was hidden in the deepest parts of people’s hearts. So deep, that people were themselves afraid to go there, and admit what it was within them that remained an underlying hindrance, pain or issue. But this was different. The man sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, looked like he could be in his sixties. Dressed in a brown suit, he paged through one of the used magazines from the coffee table, which served as a division between Eleanor and himself. The unnatural smile Eleanor saw, wasn’t on his face. No, she clearly, more clearly than ever before, saw him smiling over the dead corpse of a young girl. His hands covered in...

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Suicide season

Suicide season By Johannes Adriaan Snyman “Seriously? How do you figure him to save the day? He is suicidal himself!” It was Greta speaking in her neat constable outfit sitting in the back of the police vehicle, moving with heartrending speed to the Van Wyk Bridge, which is known for its many suicides every year.  Sitting in front were a newly transferred constable who found himself at the steering wheel, and Police Captain Brink, who just, over the phone, asked an old friend of his to help out with the scenario they were called out to. “Believe you me,” Captain Combrink said, “we take this personally. As police officers we are emotionally involved. Anton doesn’t give a damn. He would be able to establish trust much sooner than you would, my dear.” “Captain!” Greta retorted. “Don’t you ‘my dear’ me! The information we have is that this guy is an artist who according to the neighbors, happens to be very in touch with his feminine side!” “And you point is?” Captain Combrink said calmly without showing any emotion. “He will take one look at Anton and decide to jump of that bridge!” “And you know that how, Greta?” “Because I myself take one look at Anton and I want to put a bullet through my skull!” Captain Combrink suppressed a smile when he said: “Yes, have we not heard...

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