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Moment of Silence

Eagle

Once my hearing was taken from me and I was placed into a space of absolute silence. I could hear nothing, not even the blood rushing against my temples. I watched the people around me, their lips moving as they spoke, smiles on their faces as they laughed. I had no fear, only wonderment as I moved from a place of silence to a deeply calm stillness. First, it began in my heart then it flooded my soul. I closed my eyes and marveled at the place I was in and it spurred me into a thought of thanksgiving for the new and novel experience. I did not speak, because, I thought, speaking will require responses and I won’t hear those…. I savored, by choice, my first-time experience of pure stillness.

It was strange, I was not even aware of my thoughts and now, as I write, I wonder how much of my thoughts in the past were created by sounds that I could hear.


Picture credit:

Mark Paton
@mark0polo





I have met with people who have impaired hearing, over the years of my life. For me, they were uncomfortable times, as I felt deep pity for those souls. I experienced, sign language for the first time and people whom I had to face when speaking so that they could read my lips. Through these experiences though, I never gave a thought to what it must be like to hear nothing at all! Now for the very first time I could, without any warning, hear nothing!

In hindsight, I realize that not being able to hear anything was only a tiny, but beautiful, part of my experience.

What about life after the encounter? Yes, I had the luxury of moving effortlessly into stillness, like it used to be when I flew gliders, above the mountain ridge in the company of eagles. The return of my hearing, in retrospect, was like touching down on the runway after and being barraged by the chatter of the world and its demands. 

Was I grateful to have my hearing restored? You bet I was! But my silent time left me with a desire to return to the stillness I experienced.

The only way I could hope to emulate the experience was to set about my morning meditating with new vigor. I don’t attain the same level of stillness, but at least I can thankfully return to the world chatter and demands after, because I realize, part of me needs that.

Featured Image of Eagle credit:

Zdeněk Macháček
Avatar of user Zdeněk Macháček
Zdeněk Macháček
@zmachacek

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Whiffle Golf

Three young men waited for the club secretary’s selection of a fourth player to join them in the Wednesday Club Competition.

“Meet Roger Forsythe, he’s looking to join some young blood.” A smiling club secretary greeted them. Roger’s face lit up as he faced the group. “Love playing with young blood; won many a prize because of that strategy.” Watching the three young faces it was not difficult to see their disappointment. Who could blame them? Roger was in his late sixty’s and overweight. When he spoke there was a chesty whiffle to his apparent laboured breathing.

They pulled names out of a hat to select their teammate and after some discussion on handicaps they made their way down to the carts. Jason and Cuen, two of the team, who now became a twosome against Roger and James were selecting clubs a little way from the tee. “Providing he doesn’t drop dead on us, the old man is easy meat, so we need to stack up the bets.” Cuen smiled as he spoke in hushed tones to Jason. “Why not?” replied Jason.

On the first tee a measure of discussion took place on what the three considered friendly betting on the two teams. “Count me out on the bets, I’m happy enough to collect a prize.” Roger appealed in his wheezy tone. No one argued that one and they tossed a coin for first team out.

The young men were big hitters using drivers with bulbous heads; they were clearly in the 200 yard plus league, Roger on the other hand, trailed them in the  late 170’s. But in many respects the three were erratic. The young men’s shots were long, yes, and dry fairways with short brown grass, gave extra run to their strokes. Yet, probably one in five of these big hits took advantage of the favorable fairway conditions, as four out of the rest were either ‘hooked’ or ‘sliced’ and as a result the three spent a large portion of their game off the fairway in the rough. The fairway benefit was all Roger’s as his shots followed the fairway and rarely came anywhere near the rough. One might have said that Roger was consistent.

What was also consistent about Roger was his ever wheezing whiffle. He appeared to be struggling to breathe by the time he reached the greens. Fortunately for him he either landed on the green with his chip shots, or on shorter holes with his shot off the tee. Clearly though, Roger’s downfall was his putting. Often he landed within a few feet of the pin and then missed the hole by an inch or so when putting. Strangely, Roger never seem to be upset with his putting weakness. After a miss, he could continue a few practice swings, smile, and move on.

After the ninth hole the four moved to the clubhouse for some refreshment. It was hot and the young men did quick justice to a couple of beers each and a packet of fresh fries. Roger settled for tea. Jason remarked, “Roger, are you sure you up to another nine holes, sounds like your lungs were struggling over the last nine.” “I’m good; usually improve, both breathing and game on the second nine.” Roger smiled reassuringly. The three laughed, not taking Roger seriously.

“In that case Roger, join us in the betting; we usually sweeten the stakes on the back nine.” James said merrily. “Thanks James, but no thanks. You guys are hot-shots and all under par at the moment, it seems.” Roger responded defensively. “Think of it Roger, you have one of the hot-shots, as you call us, on your side, what can you lose,” persisted James.

Cuen joined the discussion, “Look Rog, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll give you ten to one odds; on individual play, if one of us wins it costs you one Rand, you win, you get ten. On the team event you stand a winning chance for the team prize; after all, you and James both playing well.”

Roger finally relented and agreed to Cuen’s offer.

They teed off the tenth and all were happy with their arrangements. As the game continued it became apparent that Roger’s whiffle had eased off considerably and his putting became more accurate.

By the fourteenth hole things were looking a little gloomy for Cuen and Jason with Roger toting up a mean score. As a team, James and Roger were doing well, thanks largely to Roger’s improved playing. When an opportunity presented itself and the two were near each other, Jason muttered to Cuen, “The old dog has come to life, we’d better pull ourselves towards ourselves, or this could be an expensive game. In fact Cuen, after this game, I shall be wary of your judgement.” “Stop whining Jason, you agreed to the arrangement didn’t you?

As the game continued, tempers were flaring with Cuen and Jason. The angrier they became, the worse they played. James managed to keep his cool, probably because he partnered Roger.

They walked off the nineteenth and into the clubhouse.

Sitting at the pub were three unhappy young men, shelling out wads of notes. Roger opted to shower and so the three sat bemoaning their losses at the bar, without Roger’s presence. “Well the old whiffler sure skinned us.” Moaned Jason. “Ag, he just had a stroke of luck on the back nine,” commented Cuen. “Well, be honest, he did warn us that his breathing and game improved on the last nine and we went and agreed to a ten to one bet!”

Just then club secretary approached, “Fine bunch you three are, I had my money on you – Roger did not look so well today, so I took a chance on you guys.” “We’ve lost a packet!” Jason spat. “You and I both, seems Roger will be collecting a stash today, especially from the caddies,” the secretary went on. The caddies?” questioned James. “Yip, about twelve of them backed you.” There was a fair amount of cussing from the three, but eventually, Cuen began to laugh and the rest followed suit.

The secretary, caught his breath, “Our Roger is a hectic gambler, here every Wednesday to collect his stash, never misses.

 Roger collected a packet full of notes and contentedly filled his pockets, after buying a round. “You are one sly old ba****ed Roger,” Cuen laughed, you sure took us!” “Night’s not over yet.” Quipped Roger.

Roger did not go home empty handed. Pockets stuffed with notes, he and James were runners up in best team of the day award and to boot Roger was awarded, “Most Improved Player.”

Opening his front door, Roger’s wife called, “Perfect timing, dinner will be served shortly.” He opened a bottle of bubbly and the two sat down to a scrumptious roast.

They chatted and after dinner went through to the living room, where a large table held Roger’s spoils.

Rosie, Roger’s wife sat down and not unalike a Father Christmas, Roger gave out their prizes. “For my wife Rosie: the runner up award for the best team of the day, a beautiful duvet cover, with matching pillow cases for our bed; next, an envelope containing one thousand Rand, a gift from those who thought they bet against a whiffley old man. For myself, a two hundred Rand voucher from the pro-shop for the most improved player of the week!”

Rosie beamed, “My man always bags the goose!”

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If you feel this article has value, please send this link to others, Writings are meant for people, not for dormant files in our computers and very often when we share them, it results in positive changes in the lives of individuals and communities.

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Please feel free to send in questions (see ‘Contact’) and comments (hit ‘Comments’

button).

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Why Write? – Part Seven.

Please Note This Course is Completely Free of Charge

If you have just joined us, then you need to read previous editions in the series, you will find these here:

With each publication in this series, I was giving you assignments to do and asked you to return these to me for editing. This way you sent in your effort, which I called a ‘submission’ and I send back a ‘correction’ to you. In doing this, you ended up with a comparison.

I am now going to change the system. In future you will not send in submissions, but I will publish my version of the assignment a week later and that way you can compare what you have done with what I have written.

If you have just joined us, you are free to submit the earlier assignments to us for correction, to help get you started. Continue reading Why Write? – Part Seven.

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Power of Human Touch

Human Touch

human-touch

My Experience

I can to this day, some sixty-eight years later, recall the first time I was kissed by a little girl. Although not one hundred per cent clearly, I still remember her face and her somewhat full rosebud lips. More than this I recall that she took my hand, held it fast, turned and kissed me on full on the lips, whilst I stood in a tremor of fright and absolute delight. We were two eight-year-olds.

Continue reading Power of Human Touch

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MY MIRACLE, MY HEALING…

It’s such an amazing miracle; what happened to me last Friday & Saturday, 15th & 16th March. On Friday night (15th March) during a Holy Spirit Impact session at our church I just started crying deeply, and cried and cried; so much so, that my clothes were all wet! So much water streaming out from everywhere in my face, just from deep inside. During that whole night I just wept so much! On Saturday morning it was like a lion roaring inside me… and this pain, tears, everything that was bottled up just came rushing forward like a volcano erupting. Later that day I realized the big lump that I had in my throat was gone, the pain in my shoulder bone from the thyroid swelling was gone!

Ronelle Goiter
Ronelle Goiter March 11 2019

On Monday the 11th, prior to this healing happening, I went to Radiology in Paarl. No cancer, just many nodules on my thyroid. My doctor said there’s no liquid in it, so it can’t be drained, it’s gotta be surgically removed. He then did a blood test and said on Friday 15th that my thyroid’s count is normal, not high and not low, so no medication. It has to be cut out.

Ronelle Healed March 16 2019

Well, on Saturday the 16th I was healed! So much pent up pain and emotions inside me caused my thyroid to grow and grow and grow, it caused a major lump in my throat and my neck to swell badly, like you can see on the photo taken on the morning of the 11th March.
It was like a very tight belt around my neck, being released. My thyroid would cause me to choke as it was swollen and painful inside at the back of it and all round, causing my neck to swell and pain into my collar bone.
This week on my holiday I went snorkeling with seals, I did lots of things, solo camping in my tent, hiking on Table Mountain, and the pain never came back again. The swelling is gone, no longer necessary to be operated on! YAY!   
All the pent up emotions way back from 2004 when I lost my womb…. Hopes dashed of ever having children….Since then I’ve been suppressing emotions; even during and after my Robin’s sickness & death last year. 

People keep the emotions bottled up… As the adage goes: Cowboys don’t cry. But the body gets sick from all the pent up emotions. Then its like a volcano erupting… Pressure building up. We should ask our Heavenly Father to help us release the toxins, the built-up emotions in our bodies… So our body can purify and heal itself from within. 

Last week I went back to my doctor and he was so touched with the remarkable recovery that he got all teary eyed. He said when I saw him in December 2014 about my thyroid it was bigger that it is now! It was dormant all these years until 2018.

So, it is SUCH an amazing awesome miracle that happened! Hallelujah! All PRAISE to You, AbaH! 

(First photo, in blue, taken on the morning of the 11th, just before radiology test and second one (in white & red) taken on the night of the 16th, after all the release)

 

Published with the permission of Ronelle, for your encouragement.