It all started with my dearest friend Alet posting about an opportunity to join a team of 6 people on a prayer journey to Piet Retief. I don’t think I could possibly understand what the trip was about, but my spirit “was clapping hands” and I rushed to join, “dragging” my 14 yr old son with me. We have never been to Piet Retief before – and an opportunity to “see the land” was tugging at my heart as well. Of course, the main incentive was to join Leon Coetzee, the leader of UPF (Unlimited Prayer Frontiers) with the goal to learn, absorb and see what can be applied to our future trips overseas.
We left early, just before 5, driving in the Gauteng mists and endless convoys of trucks. Christine & York, the 70yr old couple (who put me to shame with their thirst for life and ministry) spoke at length of the Moravian missions in South Africa. A pattern of the journey started emerging: we are to discover the roots of the first German missions in the Mkhondo region – starting with the missionary calls in Germany to their descendants still living in Piet Retief.
As we ventured on, we read about the reconciliation ministry of Anneke Rabe. I was in total awe how the Lord used this dynamic and strong woman. From a faithful prayer initiative for the town and the region, to acts of reconciliation with the local Zulu community, spreading to the region and finally, Soweto and the Union Buildings! I was so humbled…I was not sure if our team’s presence could make any difference at all. Was our trip even necessary?
The Esther Prayer Group
We drove through the land, beautiful eucalyptus & pine forests hugging our road. The potholes were just as multiple. With only 30 minutes delay we arrived at a very neat house with a fragrant garden embracing it. Rita, the hostess and the owner of this beautiful home greeted us with a lavish table of eats (I did have a teen with me – so yes, food was very important).
The home struck me with its welcoming beauty! The sitting room was filled with women: white, Zulu, Indian & even American. There were no empty chairs! Mama Rebecca was asked to lead in worship – and the glorious voice enveloped us in a deep devotion. We felt at home at once. These faithful women meet every Thursday and are the true pillars of the community. Many of them have their own ministries or are involved in the existing. As we learnt later – they have a mandate of “no child will be left unreached” – what a banner to walk under!
While we were preparing for this journey, Leon urged us to listen to what the Lord is telling us to share with this group. The words that came as a “reply” from this group towards us were just as striking! We wanted to minister to these women – but instead, they ministered us with prayer and their words! It was also Ma Johanna’s 70th birthday. Through horrid hardship of her childhood and adult life she remained a beacon of hope and a lamp on the hill for those around her. She even told a boy holding a gun on her in her own home: “When you become a pastor, look me up, I will come to celebrate with you”.
Swedish Prayer Mission
Anneke took us to a simple building, where we met with Ronel – the keeper of the “evening prayer group”. I was simply jealous to hear that when a call comes for a 24/7 prayer chain, it gets filled within 3hrs! Ronel shared about the prayer group life and their involvement in the local women’s and children’s lives. The modest Swedish mission space felt soaked with the hopes and prayers of the saints. There were windows outlooking every area of the town! So symbolic.
While we were driving, I was deeply appreciative that the trip was about German heritage. But when we came up to the Swedish mission, I could not breathe: “Could the Lord meet me, like this, on this trip?” Leon did speak of the SA descendants of the Huguenots breaking down in tears while on similar discovery journeys to France…For me, to come as close to my Nordic roots as I did in this Mission building…That God would show me my lineage of faith here, in the middle of Africa! To see my son here, in the high ceiling open space, to match the giant dreams of the people who founded it. To see what remained and how it became alive again after centuries of struggle and hardship. THE LORD, DID it, FOR ME…
Lunch
Our lunch summarised the whole hospitality experience we had in Piet Retief. We were prepared for a humble “missionary” fare, but instead, every time a feast was laid before us. Our time was spent immersed into Anneke Rabe’s personal journey with her prayer group and the road to reconciliation. She told us of how their prayer initiative in the township was meant with silence, and only after they came to the empty church again and again, the church was surprisingly full one evening. Apparently locals wanted to know: “would these people keep on coming even if we don’t come?” – before they showed up to the meeting. Anneke shared how people emerged on her path – just as hungry for the black and white reconciliation, spurred by God each other towards a common vision.
Evening
We were met by the sounds of a brass band at a local church. Encircled by smiling and welcoming faces of German, Boer (yes, the differentiation is important as I learnt) and Zulu! This was an evening of people coming together – many churches were represented by their pastors and simply people that wanted to immerse into an evening of discovery. The little church was filled!
The evening was dedicated to the origins of the German missions in the area. From the original missions sent to Ethiopia and “forcefully & accidentally” landing in Piet Retief area – Jonny, our history guide prepared a detailed report with names and dates. In-between we enjoyed praise & worship lead by the brass bands that had never played together before! The balcony was filled with the band members!
Zulu, English, German words went into the heavens – together with my spirit expanding. As a conclusion to this incredible evening German Johnny spoke Zulu to the congregation! Apparently very correct and without an accent! I was speechless.
Night
Over a sumptuous late dinner of potato soup and homemade bread, under Anneke & Ralph’s roof, we rejoiced and shared each other’s experiences and expectations and Anneke each other.
Up The Mountain, We Go
We drove to the old missionary house, lovingly kept “as is” by Ushi – a descendant of the missionaries who previously lived in this humble abode. The sitting room was filled with voices – once again, women, men, elders and kids, black and white: English, German & Zulu words mingling in a beautiful murmur. We opened in prayer and the day’s mission was outlined: “to go to the Tafelberg – a local high point, from which grass plains could be seen, to dive deeper into the “German missions history”. Johnny was our guide on this day as well. Clad into a typical farmer attire, outlined against the deep blue sky – he felt like a giant to me, I could imagine him as one of the early days settlers coming to discover the land.
The trip turned out to be more of a 8×8 trek: steep climb up on rain eroded roads famed by picturesque plains and gathering clouds. In my prep for the trip I asked the Lord: “Who would You like to be for our team on this trip?”. He showed me a picture of a cloud over our team. Of course, I went to look for spiritual meanings, and don’t get me wrong: God did provide a lovely Bible study. However, as we sat on the hot rocks of the mountain, the “cloud picture” made sense – the Lord provided a covering for us, without which the trip would have been very uncomfortable indeed.
While we were driving, I had the most wonderful companion. Irma told me of how she was reminded of her heritage while talking to some people she was sharing the Bible with. They kept on referring to a man named “Preach”. As time went on, an older man told her: “My mother knew your grandfather, Preach (Prigge) taught her to love God”. She also told me how her Mother-in-law discovered a document with the names of the first missionaries in her family, with dates and ship’s name on it! This discovery was made on the eve of the church gathering we were present at, with Johnny’s history lesson. Talking about history coming alive in your heart! Irma and her husband have Bible studies for the people working for them – right at the sawmill! In Zulu! As I found out later, her Zulu is astounding 🙂
As Johnny passionately led us through the history of the region, a somber picture of deceit, theft, greed and bloodshed developed in my mind. Despite all of that, the decedents of the first German missionary settlers continue working the land, invested into their future and finding peaceful solutions moving forward. Yes, resilience and persistence filled this land as well.
Ma Rebecca & our team’s Pontsho lead us in worship. Beautiful powerful voices lifting each other up. As male & female, black and white voices wove in, carried on the wind over the valleys – my skin was covered in goosebumps and spirit elated! An experience in Zulu worship is an absolute must! I have never had it before and my spirit was left craving for more.
Was wonderful to see some Zulu people coming up for prayer with us as well!! Pastors Welcome Ngwenya, Elvis Mabasa, Bongani all came to learn about the land entrusted to them in spiritual authority and to cover it in prayer. I was astounded how these people honestly relied on each other, there were not present out of “courteous tolerance” – I really got a sense of “one hand holds up another”.
Prayers were said over the area, over the black pastors working there, over the beautiful families labouring for God. The words felt chiselled in stone, the solid truth: the Lord is good, and He will not let this land perish, – a reminder for the generations to come.
Specially touching was to see the young boys present during prayer, their hands on the shoulders of the those we prayed for.
My fave moment was of course, when one of the pastors joined my son in throwing rocks of the mountain…as turned out, this pastor was also present at the feet washing at the Union Buildings! The simplicity of the spirit is what defines boys?
None of us wanted to leave. As we climbed down, we wished for more experience on this mountain. My son and I were so blessed to be in the car with Leon, as he shared, what felt like manuals, of his decades of experience in prayer. I soaked every word to bring it home and share it with my small prayer group and my husband.
At the Lutheran Church
Past a school, bustling with life, we drove to a small Lutheran church. Kids took to a soccer game and we were embraced once again by lavish German hospitality: mouth-watering snack served by some very dedicated to our comfort ladies. Frankly, never on this trip had we experienced any “missionary” discomfort that I actually expected ( for which my hubby prepared us with snack bars).
A Lutheran church is known for its lack of decor and simplicity of the building. But for a modern eye it is still a feast of craftsmanship and a thoughtful design. We counted 16 rows of double pews: I could imagine a family fitting nicely into each row, kids being shushed and men holding their wives hands as they worshiped.
Johnny, towering against a modest altar, continued the stories. I was so amazed at Ma Rebecca, Teacher Johanna & Ma Johanna following the whole journey with us! it was already late in the afternoon, and even as my body was getting tired – they were still joyfully excited about what the rest of the day could bring!
I do believe that the discussion happening next was led by the Spirit! It took two days of continuous seeking His face, worship and prayer – and here we were, listening to hopes, solutions, pleas and desire for unity. There were no nagging complaints. Just hearts pouring out. Anke played some organ music, we were speechless to hear her masterful offering. And as the sounds poured on, so did worship, once again, with Ma Rebecca as the initiator, in Zulu. It felt like the praise raised right to heaven: male voices in English, Zulu, and German with women’s voices pouring in (I have a very soft spot for men & women worshipping together).
This was our final stop for the day. Although, I admit, I was hoping for some more church hopping: the history lover in me getting more and more excited. I was also very very curious to see Ralph Rabe’s family church… Something left for the next time we visit, I guess.
Let’s celebrate
Anneke and Ralph hosted a huge gathering at their home over a braai. It was an informal gathering, of complete families this time, and it was lovely to see each woman or a man we met on the trip – “in a couple”. We laughed a lot, shared stories, prayer and words of encouragement as the night settled in with a welcome blanket of coolness. I loved the kids jumping into frog catching and some serious tennis matches. I was wondering if they’d ever get to experience something like this again, surrounded by the magnificent towering trees and air that effortlessly filled the lungs.
The evening showed me once again that every event like this could not happen without the “invisible” hands: husbands giving full support, wives bustling in the kitchen, serving and organising, people that were willing to drive around, pick up the phone and organise, pick up the phone again and again, and drive again. And pray. Humble hands & hearts that made things possible.
My son
Well, it was the first trip like this we did together. I was amazed at his maturity. After all, he did sacrifice his screen time for 2,5 days! We were asked to fast before the trip, and I can honestly say, as a mama of a teen, that giving up screen time is the biggest fast of all! Besides that I honestly expected him to act his age. He is a very thoughtful and gentle-hearted boy, but to see him immersed like that into what we were doing…Made me realise I am witnessing a young man finding his way. He sat with us into late hours soaking everything we said and witnessing what we did. He was part of it, his hand in mine so many times! Quietly serving by deed or in prayer. I prayed before the trip that we go as “equal redeemed souls” – and yes, I had that, and so much more! It was a beautiful journey of discovery and promises of God’s goodness in his life as well.
Let’s go home..or not
We planned nothing for the next day. The Lord, however is faithful: to take our “nothing” and to turn it into “His everything”. Like Leon mentioned earlier on the trip: ”what we receive to give would serve us first, before the Lord serves others through us”…
Anneke, that was surely deeply exhausted by all the adventures of these 2 days, surprised us by offering to pray over each one of us… I did yearn to ask her, but did not dare.
Words of encouragement poured out. Very personal, deep, serving each ones of our hidden and often very vulnerable needs. The Lord was good. I was amazed once again, how Anneke, the woman God established much, who washed feet in the Parliament, bent down, once again, in deep service to our small team.
If I could sum up what this trip has been for me: “Miracles come where there’s obedience, prayer & serving hearts”.
Ever efficient Eberhard gave us 5 min to pack up after that. Needless to say, I was horridly late. But as we drove back, under the weight of everything that happened to us in the last 2 days, I felt every word of my favourite saying: “If Grace was an ocean – we would all be drowning”.
