Testimony about on Christo Visser Jnr

  • Samantha Jooste
  • Oct 21, 2009
    Testimony about on Christo Visser Jnr

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    It is one week after we received that sms, now permanently etched into memory: “Christo Visser Jr died in a motorbike accident early this morning”.

    I can't say that I knew him well. But he was our family, and as such, we loved him. I found it sadly ironic that that morning I stubbed my toe on the wooden truck he had carved for Ben, since I hadn't seen or thought about that beautiful toy for months. From the moment Luther brought it home I was mesmerised by the detail and precision of its design. So professional in its construction, I knew it would be one of those items we'd proudly care for and pass on some day to our children's children. Little did I know it would carry a much greater significance. 

    That whole day was a blur. A chain of murmured prayers, the rustle of pages through the Scriptures, a heaviness on my heart that translated into repeated kisses to my two little boys. I kept thinking: Christo's death will not be in vain. My life can no longer be the same.

    Heinz said it well at the funeral: “For a young man who packed three lives into one, death cannot swallow the legacy of power that true living produces”. Every seed that falls to the ground produces a harvest of righteousness. A death so sudden, a moment so fleeting, but with such eternal consequences, is a windscreen wiper moment for the saints. Let all obstructions be pushed out of our way so that we can once again clearly see the vision and purpose for the beating pulse in our veins.

    I’m convinced that God wants to do an unprecedented work through you and me in this season. There is an invitation ringing out from heaven to partake in the culminating chapter of God's finest masterpiece – the restoration of His Kingdom on earth. There are blank pages waiting to be filled with new revelations of Christ, and He wants to put the pen in our hands. He wants us to see Him everywhere! In the single mothers, broken by loneliness and exhaustion. In the bloodshot eyes of a prostitute, whose parents are calling her home. In the dirty hallways of a forgotten orphanage, whose caregiver knows the meaning of daily bread. In the impersonal cubicles of a 9-to-5 existence. In the Pick 'n Pay, where the tired cashier finishes up another 12-hour shift. In our kitchens, where the grandmother of five still bends her weary knees to scrub the floor... and in my cul-de-sac, where a neighbour trusts God for supernatural healing of a cancer that is growing faster than the 8-week old baby in her cot.

    I grew up in a loving family in America, whose moralistic bent towards agnosticism mirrored the culture around us. When I left for Africa, they greeted me with the words “You will be surprised how similar their life is to ours. Apart from the 8,000 miles separating us, it’s not all that much different”. And if weekly phonecalles never go beyond potty training and teething, if cath-up conversations consistently turn towards holiday destinations and never mention our eternal one – then I have failed to run the race Christ set out for me.

    For we are called to live. We have not even begun to discover the depths of adventure, passion and power entrusted to a soul surrendered. We no longer can afford to polish and perfect our excuses. Christo's life, so swiftly taken, has placed a demand upon our own. What if today was my last? What will I leave behind?

    Over this past week God has left me feeling exposed, empty and honestly ashamed. I guess I thought I was doing better than I really am. I feel gutted and genuinely grieved when I think of all the moments I could have stepped off the cliff, but I chose to walk away from the edge. I have hated the glory of God. Often. I have compared myself with others and adjusted to arbitrary expectations, rather than allowing the Audience of One to say that I'm good enough for Him. I have surrendered my joy time and time again without a fight.

    And yet, oh, how He loves me! It's His mercy that leads me to this state of personal crisis. In His goodness He has lifted the veil, shown me my heart, and helped me to repent. And by His grace I will inherit every good promise He has set out before me. By His faithfulness I will live, and I will live out the story He has written for me and my family. Christ is our portion – He is our adventure. As we bind our lives to Him by faith, He will lead us on.

    Sam Jooste