It is said that a great storm has its beginning in the silent flap of a butterfly’s wing. In Paternoster, just before I left the Cape in early May, I prayed for a storm. And I wondered if a dream about men being transformed might have wings. Little did I know then that a butterfly had already tilted its fragile frame towards the sun and somewhere in the distance a hurricane was already brewing.
A man’s heart began to change. He had been drinking a bottle of whiskey a day; his marriage was slowly dying, his children drifting away from him for their own protection. One day he prayed, asking his wife for her forgiveness. He stopped drinking suddenly and completely. Four months later, there are twenty five men being transformed. There is a storm raging and the women and children are feeling a warm new wind on their faces. They are saying it is the Holy Spirit.
People of faith and people of none read this blog. Let’s just see where this little butterfly takes us.
Paternoster is as beautiful and as peaceful as ever. This morning began with a drizzle more in keeping with the West of Ireland, finishing this afternoon in bright sunlight. A tortoise ambled across the road not far from where we earlier saw giraffes munching the high branches of scattered trees. We had gone in search of Weskus Mall. We got lost. The tortoise would have made it in better time!
Tomorrow, after we get some time with our friend Sandra from Veldriff, we head for Montague and the lovely Mimosa Lodge.
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