by Shirley Emms Have you ever heard of SWAT Team Christians? You know the great heroes of the faith we read about in the pages of God’s word or the streams of men and women who line history with their radical faith. It’s Corrie Ten Boom, Elizabeth Elliot or William Wilburforce. These are
Reality TV has skyrocketed in the last ten years. It’s no longer a fad, but a norm for everyday television. It started with the likes of Survivor and now it has morphed into taking ordinary people and growing them into extraordinary chefs and dancers. Strictly Come Dancing is just one of the hundreds
Everybody loves a good love song. Every generation has their stand-out favorites. Maybe your generation claims Whitney Houston’s “I will always love you”, or Bryan Adams’ “Everything I do I do it for you”. Maybe you’re a die hard rocker, and “Bed of Roses” is a sure win (chuckle chuckle). Perhaps for the
There were close to 50 000 people. Some had been camping through the night just to have a place. Others arrived last minute, desperate to get just that little bit closer. It’s mayhem! How does a stadium manage 50 000 people pressing against the periphery fences and march them into a confined space?
by Nicole Cameron It's tip toeing ever so slowly into our culture. It's not long now. It's slowly creeping up on us, as plastic orange pumpkins and ghoulish masks will soon start to make their way onto retailer’s shelves. It’s time to weigh up this “tricky” tradition – how do we navigate our
by Shirley Emms It’s a tiny bag. Not much bigger than a lunch bag. Held together with a candy stripe string. Cozied up with hessian, it carries 12 cards, 12 decorations, 3 letters and 2 books (@just R350 a bag, you pay once and have a lifelong tradition). There’s nothing magical inside, but
I look out my window and see a horde of zombies coming down the road. Granted, they’re mostly under three foot tall, and the screams are those of overexcited children, but their costumes are ghoulish enough to frighten my two-year old, who takes cover close to me but watches on in morbid fascination.
I don’t know about you, but don’t you find Easter, birthdays, Christmas, baptisms seem to arrive in your schedule like a leopard hovering in the veld, and then pounce the day has come. I find myself chasing my tail, conducting the masses like a drill sergeant, plagued by the right gift, the right