Chapter 18

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.

Psalm 139:14 

Deidre

Every mama knows how overwhelming those first days and weeks with a new baby can be. The initial euphoria gives way to the grinding reality of newborn care and everything in your world now revolves around the needs of this tiny little bundle. 

The idilic picture of a well put together, efficient mama I had imagined, was quickly replaced by messy hair, skipped showers, breastfeeding woes and sleepless nights. I longed for my own mom, to hear her voice, ask her what to do, complain or cry a little and above all, to thank her with full understanding and new appreciation for what it means to be Mom.

No matter how exhausting it all may have been, the in between moments of quiet serenity, were absolute bliss. I’d often hold her in my arms long after she’d fallen asleep, soaking in her warmth and starring mesmerized at her sweet little face. 

In those precious moments, my heart was flooded with overwhelming gratitude and a deeper love than I had ever imagined. In Matthew 18, Jesus calls us to become like little children in our faith, and as I held Raylan in my arms, basking in her contented trust in my ability to care for her, I knew exactly what He meant. I prayed that this journey of motherhood would draw me closer and deeper into His grace and raise up an even greater desire for His presence that would spill out into my children and flood my home. 

Watching David become a dad, would forever be some of my most treasured memories. From the moment of her first breath, he had been completely and utterly captured. I watched in awe as he handled and cared for her, then cradled her so close that she’d be hidden from sight in the comfort of his big arms. Those arms were pledging the cry of his heart. To guard and protect her by God’s grace and do all that he could to show her how deeply loved she was. 

Exhausting as they may have been, those early weeks were precious beyond compare and laid the foundation for our partnership in the parenting adventure.

Even as we enjoyed the beauty and blessing of God’s goodness, the murmuring disapproval of the wider community sought to discourage us at every turn. While in the grocery store with Raylan one morning, a lady I knew well, sneered at me with disdain when I greeted her and grumbled her disgust as she walked away.   

Facing these kinds of attitudes was nothing new, but my heart felt shattered at the thought of anyone not seeing my precious little girl for the treasure she was. The Holy Spirit soothed my heart as I made my way home, reminding me that Jesus was the source of all truth and had already declared our worth beyond any doubt or opinion. 

That evening as David and I lay on our bed, face to face in deep conversation, tears soaked my pillow as he shared his heart and experiences with me. I may have grown up in a diverse environment and never considered myself a racist, but when I met him, I was surprised at how many of my thoughts, actions and responses where drawn from a preconditioned cultural prejudice that I was not even consciously aware off. 

I understand better now what I didn't understand then. Jesus calls us to love our neighbour as ourselves. This we know well, and many of us endeavour to do so. However, deep and authentic love, like what Jesus calls us to, is rooted in relationship. This is why He calls us into relationship with Him. This way, His love is perfected in us and we are able to love each other without reservation, judgement or bias. 

The reality is, the average white person in South Africa and even globally, has no significant relationship with any person of colour. A close friend, a confidant, a mentor or family member....  It is impossible to have real empathy for a cause that you lack the capacity to understand. For all my enlightenment and education on the matter, I didn't understand the pain and anger of racial injustice until I truly loved someone who lived it. 

I listened to David recount being chased, as a small boy by a whip-wielding white man, simply for being in the vicinity of a whites-only swimming pool. Or as a young man, being pelted with rotten eggs by a passing car, while walking home from church, and having racial insults flung at him. Or even the memories of seeing his father, an honorable and dignified man, having to bend to his knee to receive the wages he'd worked hard for in support of his family. I thought about how these experiences must have impacted an impressionable young heart and thanked God for shinning His light through the darkness.

He shared many stories with me that night and although we've come a long way since then, he still experiences intolerance and racial prejudice fairly often. I remember thinking “He's a better person than me, because I'm certain that I wouldn't be able to handle it with as much grace as he does.” 

Like so many things in life, a little perspective is the key to positive and lasting change. If we really want to be like Jesus, then we have to love like He does, rooted in relationship, grace and truth. 

This remains my prayer, then, now and always. Until the loud echoing truth of God’s heart for ALL his beloved people drowns out every whispered lie.