Kerkblaadjie Mei 2014

Prediker: Pastoor Corrie Greeff
Sel nr. 072 860 2298
Mei 2014
Wees vir jou kind: vuurtoring teen die
hang,
die klokboei wat ruk-lui aan sy stang,
eentonig al sy dae die mishoring
-genadetekens van die ondergang.
D.J. Opperman
Kontakbesonderhede: Pastoor Corrie Greeff
Tel: 044 272 8715
Sel: 072 860 2298
Faks: 086 656 5169
Epos: [email protected]
Posadres: Posbus 602
Oudtshoorn
6620
Dienstye: Sondag
Woensdag
09:00
10:00
09:30
18:30
Sondagskool
Erediens
Sustersbiduur
Gemeentebiduur
Verjaarsdae: Mei
6
8
30
Tyler Rheeder
Johan Rheeder
Bruce Goold Jnr.
076 579 6918
Huweliksherdenkings: Mei 29 Br & Sust Ferreira 084 210 6313
Jare gelede, in ‘n bouvallige, armsalige, verwaarloosde deel van London het daar ‘n toegewyde,
Godvresende vrou gewoon – oud en grys en krom van rug, want sy het haar dae oor die wasbalie en die
strykplank deurgebring. Dit was haar stand in die samelewing.
Sy het ‘n seun gehad. Toe hy sewentien jaar oud was, het hy weggeloop van die huis af, see toe, en sy ma
het nooit geweet waar haar seun was nie. Sy het natuurlik gebid. Menige dag het die trane uit haar oë
gemeng met die seepskuim in haar wasbalie as sy bid vir haar seun John wat êrens op see was, waar, het sy
nie geweet nie. En daardie gebed is vehoor. Sulke gebede word altyd verhoor. Dit kan nie anders nie. John
het die Here Jesus gevind as sy Saligmaker. Toe begin hy aan ander vertel van die Here Jesus totdat hy
bekend geword het as die matroos-predikant. En John Newton, London se matroos-predikant was die
middel wat – en ek gebruik doelbewus ‘n gewigtige woord – DUISENDE na die Here gelei het.
Onder diegene wat deur John Newton tot bekering gekom het, was ‘n man met die naam van Thomas Scott,
‘n ontwikkelde, geleerde, goeie man wat “nie behoefte aan ‘n Saligmaker gehad het nie.” Newton het met
Scott in verbinding getree, en Scott het na die Here Jesus gekom. En daarna was Scott die middel om deur
sy tong en sy pen – weer gebruik ek die woord, DUISENDE na die Here Jesus te lei.
Onder diè met wie Scott te doen gekry het, was daar ‘n man wat net die teenoorgestelde van Scott self was –
‘n jong, neerslagtige, versuurde mens, “te sleg” om deur God gered te word. Maar Scott het met William
Cowper in aanraking gekom, en Cowper het kennis gemaak met die fontein waaruit bloed gevloei het, en hy
het ‘n lied geskrywe – een van baie – “There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.”
En hoewel baie modernistiese liederebundels vandag nie plek het vir hierdie lied nie, is dit gesing en is die
mense daardeur gered by die DUISENDE.
Cowper het ‘n man beïnvloed met die naam Wilberforce – ‘n slim Christenstaatsman wat ‘n lekeprediker
geword het. en Wilberforce het op sy beurt DUISENDE van die middelklasmense in Engeland geïnspireer
om die slawe van die Britse Ryk vry te stel.
En onder die mense wat deur Wilberforce tot bekering gekom het, was daar ‘n man met die naam van
Richmond, afkomstig uit die Kanaal-eilande. En Richmond het die verhaal geken van die dogter van ‘n
melkboer in die aangrensende gemeente. Sy het ‘n besondere aanraking van die krag van God gehad, en
Richmond het haar verhaal neergeskryf en dit genoem The Dairyman’s Daughter. En hierdie nietige klein
boekie is in veertig verskillende tale vertaal en uitgegee, en het sy weg geving in die huise van arm vissers
en in koningspaleise en duisende ander tussen-in, en het orals gebrand soos ‘n sagte maar deurdringende lig.
En ongekende DUISENDE het die lig van die Evangelie daardeur ontvang.
En dit alles omdat ‘n bejaarde ou moeder, grys van hare en krom van rug, en met knopperige vingers oor
haar wasbalie en haar strykplank vir haar seun John gebid het, toe sy nie eers geweet het waar hy was nie –
aangehou het om te bid totdat hy ingekom het.
S. D. Gordon
A little girl had been shopping with her Mom in Checkers. She must have been 6 years old, This beautiful red haired,
freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of gutters, so
much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just
inside the door of Checkers. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day. I
am always mesmerized by rainfall. I got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of
the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child came pouring in as a welcome reprieve from worries
of my day.
The little voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in.
“Mom, let’s run through the rain,” she said.
“What?” Mom asked.
“Let’s run through the rain! She repeated.
“No honey. We’ll wait until it slows down a bit,” Mom replied.
This young child waited about another minute and repeated: “Mom, let’s run through the rain.”
“We’ll get soaked if we do.” Mom said.
“No, we won’t, Mom. That’s not what you said this morning.” The young girl said as she tugged at her Mom’s arm.
“This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and not get wet?”
“Don’t you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his cancer, you said, ‘If God can get us through this,
He can get us through anything!”
The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn’t hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one
came or left in the next few minutes.
Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some would laugh it off and scold her for
being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young child’s life. A
time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith.
“Honey, you are absolutely right. Let’s run through the rain. If God let’s us get wet, well maybe we just needed
washing.” Mom said.
Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the
puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a
few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed
washing.
Tuis geleer
Die Moeder was erg ontstemd omdat die Sondagskoolonderwyser kom kla het dat klein Jannie so baie
leuens kan vertel. Hy kon nooit op die kind se woord gaan nie!
‘n Leuenaar? Onmoontlik! Die onderwyser maak seker ‘n fout. Waar sou die kind daaraan kom om leuens
te vertel?
“Gaan roep hom gou, Elsie,” het sy haar dogtertjie beveel, “hy speel in die tuin.”
Elsie was na ‘n rukkie terug met die tyding dat Jannie weier om te kom.
“Nou, loop weer,” het die moeder geantwoord, “en sê vir hom sy ouma is hier met ‘n groot sak lekkers wat
sy vir hom gebring het.”
Die liefde van ‘n ma …
Al sou ek die mooiste huis hê en die lekkerste ete voorberei, maar ek doen dit nie met liefde nie, dan is ek so waardeloos soos
‘n leë kastrol;
Al koop ek ‘n kamer vol opvoedkundige speelgoed en betaal sakke vol geld vir ekstra klasse, maar ek sit nooit self by my
kinders nie, sal ek steeds nie ‘n ware ma wees nie;
‘n liefdevolle ma is geduldig (sy ruim maar op), lankmoedig en vriendelik (sy laai maar haar motor vol kletsende skoolkinders
sonder om te kla);
Sy vergelyk nie haar kinders met ander nie en is nie verwaand oor hul prastasies nie. Sy bedek alle skrape met liefde, sy glo
in haar kinders, hoop net die beste en verdra klaery en kritiek;
‘n Opregte drukkie en intieme gesprek bly lank in ‘n kinderhart, maar gestrykte wasgoed word weer vuil en ‘n netjiese huis
word weer deurmekaar. En nou bly aandag, geduld en liefde, hierdie drie, maar die waardevolste hiervan is die liefde van ‘n
ma wat regtig wys dat sy omgee!
Mammie jy het my so baie geleer
Net die heel beste vir my begeer
Ek weet hoe ‘n dame haar moet gedra
Om asseblief te sê wanneer ek iets vra.
Nie een keer in eksamen gefaal
Altyd die hoogste punte behaal
Ja, ek kan huis hou en gaste onthaal
Maar in een ding het jy, Mammie gefaal.
Koor: Waarom is ek nooit vertel van Hom
Dat Hy weer eendag terug gaan kom
Die belangrikste Mammie het jy nagelaat
My dan nie geleer om met Jesus te praat.
Ek hoor Hy het Sy lewe gegee
En dit vir my, deel ander my mee
Het, Mammie die dinge self nie geweet
Of het jy net Mammie van Jesus vergeet.
Last week I took my children to a restaurant . My six year old son asked if he
could say grace, as we bowed our heads he said, “God is good, God is great.
Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if mom gets us ice
cream for dessert.
And liberty and justice for all! Amen!”
Along with the
laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, “That’s
what’s wrong with this country.
Kids today don’t even know how to pray.
Asking God for ice cream!
Why, I
never!”
Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, “Did I do it
wrong? Is God mad at me?” As I held him and assured him that he had done a
terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman
approached the table. He winked at my son and said: “I happen to know that God
thought that was a great prayer.” “Really?” my son asked.
“Cross my heart.” Then in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating the woman
whose remark had started this whole thing). “Too bad she never asks God for ice
cream.
A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes.”
Naturally, I
bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal.
My son stared at his ice
cream for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life.
He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front
of the woman.
With a big smile he told her, “Here, this is for you.
the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already.”
Ice cream is good for
To my child
Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying.
Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and smile and say how perfect it
is.
Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry and pick you up and take you to the park
to play.
Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle
of yours together.
Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computor off, and sit with you in
the backyard and blow bubbles.
Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for
the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.
Just for this afternoon, I won’t worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second
guess every decision I have made where you are concerned.
Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won’t stand over you trying to fix
them.
Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald’s and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have
both toys.
Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and
how much I love you.
Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry.
Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars.
Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favourite TV shows.
Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be grateful
that God has given me the greatest gift ever given.
I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their
missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children’s
graves instead of their bedrooms, and mothers and fathers who are in
hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly and screaming
inside that they can’t handle it anymore.
And when I kiss you goodnight I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer.
It is then, that I will thank God for you, and ask Him for nothing, except one
more day …
“In die huis van My Vader is daar baie wonings; as dit nie so is nie, sou Ek dit vir julle gesê het.
Ek gaan om vir julle plek te berei. En as Ek gegaan en vir julle plek berei het, kom Ek weer en
sal julle na My toe neem, sodat julle ook kan wees waar Ek is.” Joh. 14:2, 3
“En nadat Hy dit gesê het, is Hy opgeneem terwyl hulle dit sien; en ‘n wolk het Hom voor hulle
oë weggeneem. En toe hulle nog stip na die hemel kyk terwyl Hy weggaan, staan daar twee
manne in wit klere by hulle, wat sê: Galilèse manne, waarom staan julle en kyk na die
hemel? Hierdie Jesus wat van julle opgeneem is in die hemel, sal net so kom soos julle Hom na
die hemel sien wegvaar het.” Hand. 1: 9 - 11
Volgens die Skrif is Jesus hemel toe om vir Sy kinders te gaan plek berei. Hy gaan verseker
terugkom om Sy kinders te kom haal. Is jy gereed om Hom te ontmoet?
Keep your Fork
There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given
three months to live. While she was getting her things “in order”, she contacted her pastor and
had him come to her house to dicuss certain aspects of her final wishes.
She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read,
and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the pastor was
preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to
her. “There is one more thing,” she said excitedly.
“What’s that?” came the pastor’s reply.
“This is very important,” the young woman continued. “I want to be buried with a fork in my
right hand.”
The pastor stood looking at the young woman, not quite knowing what to say.
“That surprises you, doesn’t it?” the young woman asked.
“Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request,” said the pastor.
The young woman explained. “My grandmother once told me this story, and from there on, I have always done so. I
have also, always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my
years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were
being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favourite part because I knew
that something better was coming … like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with
substance! So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder
‘What’s with the fork?’ Then I want you to tell them: ‘Keep your fork; the best is yet to come’.”
The pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the
last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than
he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much
experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.
At the funeral people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and the
fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the pastor heard the question. “What’s with the fork?” and over and over
he smiled.
During his message, the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died.
He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolizd to her. The pastor told the people how he could not stop
thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.
He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.
‘n Dogtertjie was teen skemeraand op pad huis toe en loop toe kortpad deur die kerkhof. ‘n Ou grafgrawer
wat by die hek gesit het, vra haar: “Is jy nie bang om in die donker deur die begraafplaas te loop nie?” “Nee
, wat, Oom,” lag sy, “my huis is mos net aan die anderkant.” Toe die ou man later sterwend was en iemand
vra hom of hy nie bang is om die donker van die dood binne te gaan nie, was sy antwoord presies dieselfde.
Henry Durbanville
Kinderhoekie
Die Spinnerak–Rokkie
‘n Feetjie het vir haar
Uit spinnerak ‘n doek vergaar;
‘n Rokkie wit as heuningwas
Het sy toe aanmekaar gelas.
Maar nouliks was dit om haar lyf,
Toe kom ‘n windjie, vlug en styf,
En met die uiting van sy sug
Daar trek ons Feetjie deur die lug!
Haar maatjies staar haar treurig aan,
Hoe sy hoog oor die bome gaan,
Tot sy met heel haar rokkie fyn
Daar in die verte glad verdwyn!
As jy ‘n rokkie ooit besit
Van spinnerak of iets soos dit,
Pas op hoe jy jou dan verroer,
‘n Windjie mag jou glad vervoer!
Eugène N. Marais
Jy weet, maatjie, dat soms wil ons vreeslik graag iets hê en wanneer Mamma of Pappa nee sê,
dan kan ons dit nie verstaan nie. Jy sien, die feetjie het net gedink hoe mooi haar rokkie gaan
wees en het nie gedink daar lê vir haar enige gevaar in nie. Net so sien ons soms ook nie die
gevaar in iets wat ons wil hê nie.
Net so vra jy soms vir Liewe Jesus iets en Hy antwoord dalk nie soos jy wou gehad het nie en dan
dink jy Hy is nie lief vir jou nie. Jy sien, net soos Mamma en Pappa, sê Liewe Jesus ook soms
nee, want Hy weet dat in die toekoms die windjie van sonde jou ook kan optel en ver weg van
Hom af kan waai. Dit wil Hy nie hê nie. Hy is hopeloos te lief vir jou.
So wanneer jy dalk iets vra en die antwoord is nee, weet Liewe Jesus het iets beters wat Hy
eerder vir jou wil gee. Onthou om vir al die Ouma’s en Mamma’s op Moedersdag stywe drukkies te
gee vir alles wat hulle heel jaar vir ons beteken. Onthou altyd, Jesus het jou baie lief.
Tannie Elize
Sou enige iemand ‘n ekstra kopie van hierdie
kerkblad benodig is u welkom om fotostate
te maak.

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