RESILIENCE
WRITES YOUR STORY
Perhaps
resilience is the most powerful
lesson we can glean from the life of one statesman extraordinaire, Founding President Nelson Mandela, of
the Republic of South Africa. Born amidst
the most challenging and agonizing of life-situations, apartheid, he purposefully
persevered. Mandela was unjustly
imprisoned on Robben Island for 27 years, but he never allowed his
incarceration to enter into his soul or to sour his spirit. Rather, he chose the path of forgiveness and
reconciliation, thereby healing a nation and a people.
Arguably,
President Mandela traded his youth, his family life, his marriage and a host of
other things we may never know about in order to invest sacrificially in the
liberation of South Africans and humankind.
When the poet laureate, Maya Angelou, penned her epic prose, “Still I
Rise,” she might well have been personally inspired by the life and legacy of Tata Madiba, as he is affectionately
known to his brothers, sisters, daughters and sons in his beloved South Africa.
“Still I Rise” - by Maya
Angelou
You
may write me down in history
With
your bitter, twisted lies,
You
may trod me in the very dirt
But
still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does
my sassiness upset you?
Why
are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause
I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping
in my living room.
Just
like moons and like suns,
With
the certainty of tides,
Just
like hopes springing high,
Still
I’ll rise.
Did
you want to see me broken?
Bowed
head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders
falling down like teardrops,
Weakened
by my soulful cries?
Does
my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t
you take it awful hard
‘Cause
I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’
in my own backyard.
You
may shoot me with your words,
You
may cut me with your eyes,
You
may kill me with your hatefulness,
But
still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does
my sexiness upset you?
Does
it come as a surprise
That
I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At
the meeting of my thighs?
Out
of the huts of history’s shame
I
rise
Up
from a past that’s rooted in pain
I
rise
I’m a
black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling
and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving
behind nights of terror and fear
I
rise
Into
a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I
rise
Bringing
the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am
the dream and the hope of the slave.
I
rise
I
rise
I
rise.
How
grateful Belinda and I are to have resided in South Africa as long-term missionaries,
and to have personally visited Mandela’s incarceration sites, both in
Johannesburg’s Section Four Prison and Cape Town’s Robben Island Prison. Most importantly, we observed first-hand the
awesome and ongoing transition of a phenomenal nation that is destined to be the major conduit of spiritual,
political and social change on the continent of Africa.
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