CRIPPLE WOOD Just like Samson of old, I have a riddle for you today: “The fragrance of healing came out of the cripple wood, and a graceful bearing out of the fire.” On a recent walk in the Eastern Free State, I found two trees destroyed by fire. On the right, a broken stump had a small wild plant emerging from its wound. The fragrance was soft, clean, and unexpected—a scent of grace among the soot. On the left, a blackened tree had one branch that survived the fire. It was the perfect length for a walking stick. I took it home, sanded the burn marks, and brought it back to life. It’s not perfect—it’s crooked and uneven—but it’s strong. A friend laughed and said, “That’s a stick with character.” He was right. Character is formed in the fire. The tree on the right released a pleasant fragrance. The tree on the left had a branch left over to complete a pilgrimage. They didn’t lose their value in the trauma—they found it precisely within it. I think of my own wounds. Of the times I felt burned out, useless, finished. But God does not allow fire only to destroy. He lets a pleasant fragrance rise from the wound. He repurposes dry wood to serve as a walking stick on the long road. Prayer: Father, thank You for not leaving me in sackcloth and ashes. Shape my character where I go through Your fire. Let a pleasant fragrance come from my wounds. Amen. Your trauma works healing for others. Even if you are crooked and covered with burn marks—this is not a distortion; this is your story. This is your testimony. 📖 "For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ..." (2 Corinthians 2:15) #peetbekker #pilgrimstories #radiopulpit #pelgrimsteologie #lindley #ntha 📚 Plowmen Press books: https://pilgrimstories.netlify.app/

*“Thank You for the Music” (ABBA)* And so, people from far and wide descended on the small town of Lindley this weekend. Friday was a flurry of activity in the town as the new VKB opened its doors. Numerous exhibitors were present, where visitors, pancake in hand, could marvel at the latest agricultural technology. Enormous pumpkins were entered in a competition, the largest of which weighed 20 kilograms. The sounds of OFM's music and the aroma of grilled meat greeted visitors at the grand new entrance, where rows of products and enthusiastic staff proudly welcomed customers. The local hotel and guest house were fully booked for the weekend, and Lindley's streets were quite busy with traffic. Saturday evening had a different sound than usual. At the Lindley Hotel, a group of singers from Bloemfontein put on a "Mama Mia, here we go again" ABBA performance. You're probably ready to ask what all this has to do with prayer. Yes, that's precisely what's on my heart. Marelise and I were invited by friends to attend both of these events. The music of the ABBA performance took me back to my younger days when the group was just becoming famous and their songs were playing everywhere. The music was very moving for me, and I stepped out of the hall. I contacted a few friends from my youth, my brothers, and also my daughter in England because she used to love singing ABBA songs when she was little. I stood by the door each time so they could clearly hear the music in the background. And suddenly, everything became spiritual! Saturday evening in South Africa is Sunday morning in New Zealand, and a friend of mine living in Auckland was in church at that very moment. Apparently, he also had to stand by the door, because I heard the most beautiful music in the background. At the same time that we were singing on one side of the earth: "Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing. Thank you for all the joy they're bringing," they were singing on the other side of the earth: "I could sooner count the stars than number all Your ways. Though I only know in part, that part exceeds all praise. As sunlight fills the skies, Your goodness fills my life." And then I prayed that the ABBA singers would also come to church. On Sunday mornings, there is often a church service in the chapel at the hotel. I made an effort to attend that service, expecting that the Father would answer my prayer regarding the ABBA singers. Marelise and I arrived at ten, and the preacher said he had just one song on his heart and invited us to sing it together. While he continued talking, I sensed that I should go and invite the ABBA people to come and sing one last song together before they left. I stepped out and saw that some of the people had already driven off. Quite bewildered, I went to the restroom, and behind the closed door, I asked the Lord what I should do. At that moment, I heard voices outside the door. I stepped out, and there stood the last two members. In response to my invitation, one replied that they would even bring a guitar. A few minutes later, they stood with us around the piano singing hymns. What a privilege! And then the singer suggested we sing another song, one that deeply touched my heart: "Let your living water flow over my soul." And then the chorus repeats: "Father, Father, Father." The ABBA singer, without realizing it, led us to sing about and affirm our Father's fatherhood and intimacy. The word ABBA in Romans 8:15 places us under the Spirit of adoption as His children, through whom we cry: Abba, which means Father! That church service then turned into a song service. The ABBA singer was so excited to be able to sing gospel music again. *Prayer for ABBA:* _Abba ... Father, thank you that we can find You everywhere ... even in the words of a song. Turn our hearts back to You continually in everything we do. And may we, from this small place called Lindley, also serve the nations. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen._ *What began with a pancake and a pumpkin, and with "Thank you for the music," and with the name ABBA, ended in prayer and the intimate whisper: "Abba, Father!"* Peet Bekker, April 2026, Lindley/Ntha #peetbekker #radiokansel #radiopulpit #pilgrimstories #abba

Parable of the Lost Cow Last week I spoke with a farmer in the Lindley district. He was concerned about his farmworkers and wondered how to reach their hearts. While he was talking to me, I sensed God asking deep in my heart: "Whom shall I send?" So I prepared to make the long walk to his farm the next day. And so it happened that the walk to the farm was filled with wonderful encounters with the Lord. A few kilometres outside Lindley, I saw a farm sign that read: Middelbult. I took a photo and sent it to two friends with whom I sometimes talk about Jesus as the Centrepoint. You won't believe it! Without knowing anything about my journey, someone from another part of the country sent me the words of a song to encourage me. The words of the song I felt compelled to sing there next to the farm Middelbult, which means "The centre hill", translates to: "Centrepoint of our longing, You bring rest to our troubled hearts." A good distance further, I had to contact someone about something the Father had laid on my heart concerning a cow. While I was recording a voice message for him, I walked over the crest of a hill and ran straight into a large herd of cattle being driven along the dirt road. It was a magnificent moment, because while I was talking about a cow, the road was teeming with cattle. Much later, when I arrived at the farm gate, I made a call to the worker to come and unlock the gate. After the worker unlocked the gate and we had walked together for a while, I took out my phone to take a photo. And right there, before the worker's very eyes, my phone died. The battery was exhausted, and we both stood there in wonder. We had just witnessed a miracle. My phone had lasted just long enough for me to make the call at the gate so that I could enter. This immediately gave my conversation with the workers a practical introduction to how God walks with us day by day. The evening and morning conversations with the workers went very well, and the next day I was on my way back. When I reached the spot where I had encountered the cattle the previous day, a lost cow came wandering into the road. She was clearly one of the cattle from the day before. She looked lonely, frightened, and lost. I got my GPS coordinates so that I could send them, along with a photo of the cow, to a farmer in the area. I tried to get as close to the cow as possible so that I could read the number on her ear tag for the farmer. When I read the number, my heart leaped. The lost cow's number was 199! In that moment, the Word became flesh. The lost cow was the one out of ninety-nine that the Shepherd left behind in order to come and get her. May that truth hang on your ear: you are not forgotten. Prayer for a Lost Lamb Father, thank You so much for walking so intimately with us. Help us to seek You in everything and to find You. And thank You, Jesus, that as the Good Shepherd, when we become lost, You always come to find us. Teach me to understand that I am the one out of ninety-nine for whom You would go to special trouble. Thank You for Your incomprehensible grace. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen. May everyone who is awakened from the dust shine like stars and bright beacons – so that the whole world may see the Good Shepherd as the Centrepoint. Peet Bekker, April 2026, Hazyview #peetbekker #pilgrimstories #radiokansel #radiopulpit #lindley #ntha

GO TO THE ANT This morning I had to walk up to the Lindley Bible School to give a presentation on what I've learned during my prayer journeys. I spoke about how it all began, and after sharing a few testimonies, I continued to share what I've learned on the long roads of prayer. The room where the presentation took place is called the Flag Room, named for all the national flags painted on the walls. As I was speaking, I kept feeling the need to make things more practical, so I asked if we could go on a prayer walk around the Bible School afterward. I wanted to demonstrate how it plays out on the ground in a practical way. Without any planning, we began to walk and, as the Holy Spirit led, we stopped here and there to discuss what we saw, turning it into prayer. As we set off, the very first thing we passed was a flagpole. We had just been in the Flag Room, where flags from all over the world adorned the walls. Our prayer walk with Jesus started at a flagpole without a flag. It certainly gave us food for thought about what the Father wanted us to pray for. What made this flagpole unique, however, was that at its base lay a large rock with the words inscribed on it: Jesus Christ. The Bible School's mission is to go out and make disciples of all nations. The inner room holds the flags of all the nations, and when you go out, the banner on the flagpole is a rock with the word Jesus Christ on it. The starting point of our prayer walk, the cornerstone, is Jesus Christ. And so we came to the fence we were to walk along. Someone mentioned that surveyors had recently been on the property and that the fence isn't actually on the correct boundary line of the land. The theme of nations and boundaries was indeed on our minds. Our prayers flowed around that topic, and about halfway along, we saw something very interesting. At the bottom of the wire fence—a mesh wire fence with large holes—there was an anthill. It was about 40 cm high and built so that it extended on both sides of the fence. The ants, however, had no problem with it at all. Even though the boundary fence ran right through the middle of their home, they were unbound and unaware of the division. When you look up from the anthill, you see the main road, the R707, running right through the middle of Lindley. The tarred road forms a thick black line separating the two residential areas, Lindley and Ntha. Although this imaginary dividing line runs right through the town, the division is much more of a reality for the people than it is for the ants. Then came the question: What can we learn from the ants about boundary fences? Immediately, the verse from Proverbs 6:6 echoed: "Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise!" In that moment, we certainly had much to pray about. Prayer for the Prisoners: Father, I pray that You will set free everyone who is in captivity in any way because of boundaries and fences. And, Father, help us to esteem one another in humility. In Jesus' name. Amen. We can learn much from the ants about selfishness and vain conceit, and about humbly esteeming others better than oneself. Peet Bekker, March 2026, Lindley/Ntha #peetbekker #radiokansel #radiopulpit #pilgrimstories

HELLO MY DARLING Last week, I shared about the term of endearment "Seuna" (Sonny), a loving and respectful way a father referred to his son, in his sixties, which deeply touched me. Today's story also revolves around a term of endearment, but one with a starkly different connotation. I did a prayer-walk from Margate to Shelley Beach to minister to a men's group that convenes at five in the morning. They start even earlier with coffee and fellowship, which required me to leave by three in the morning. I was looking forward to the walk and to pray along the way. Having woken well before my departure time, I'd already spent a considerable amount of time while still in bed praying. A particular burden on my heart was that everyone who was meant to attend the men's prayer meeting would indeed rise and go. Shortly before three, I quietly arose, dressed in the dark, and gently slipped out, careful not to awaken my wife and cause her unnecessary worry about my walk on the dark roads. During these prayer walks, my prayer is often, "Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours." As I passed some buildings, I noticed a small group of people lurking in the shadows. Something felt amiss at that early hour. As I walked by, a woman's voice greeted me from the darkness: "Hello my Darling!" The words were dripping with a false sweetness, reminiscent of Proverbs 5:3-4: "For the lips of an immoral woman drip honey, and her mouth is smoother than oil; but in the end she is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword." In that moment, my heart broke for what breaks my Father's heart: How many are bound by darkness and held captive within it? I began to pray Psalm 146, asking the Lord to set the captives free. The darkness was overwhelming, both physically and spiritually. I pulled out my torch, but its light felt like a feeble attempt to penetrate the gloom. Ironically, like moths to a flame, the light seemed to attract the very darkness I sought to escape. A vehicle emerged from a side street and stopped behind me in the dark. I switched off the torch, stepping deeper into the night, trusting that the Lord, my Shepherd, would protect and guide me (Psalm 23:4). The road soon wound through shadowy paths and bushes, a route that stirred fear within me. But I chose to obey the Word: "Do not be afraid, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" (Isaiah 41:10). It was a conscious decision to be obedient to this Word, a choice not to succumb to fear. A deep joy began to fill me as I walked, my heart anchored in God's presence. I arrived at the men's prayer meeting on time and joined the men over coffee and cookies as they trickled in. One man shared that he had initially woken during the night and decided to stay in bed. However, he later changed his mind, got up, and came, a decision he was now extremely grateful for. He listened to my testimony and was encouraged, a testament to the power of prayer and God's goodness. I realized it was for him that I had been praying in those early morning hours. Prayer for the Captives: Father, I pray that You will set free all who are held captive by the darkness in any way. And, Father, help us not to be overwhelmed by fear. In Jesus' name. Amen. Isaiah encourages us with these words: "But now, thus says the Lord, your Creator, O Jacob, and He who formed you, O Israel, 'Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine!'" (Isaiah 43:1). Peet Bekker, February 2026, Shelley Beach #peetbekker #radiokansel #radiopulpit #pilgrimstories

My Sonny Have you ever noticed how a simple number can suddenly appear everywhere? That happened to me last week with the number 42. It started when I wrote an article about my hiking trip to Rosendal in May. I'm taking a group to hike through the mountains of the Eastern Free State. The distance? Exactly forty-two kilometers. A few days later, we drove past Harrismith. There, on the mountain, the famous 42 is still faintly visible – marking where the Scottish 42nd Regiment camped during the Anglo-Boer War. Forty-two. By now I was curious. What does Scripture say about this number? * It is the number of the Bride of Christ. * The Israelites had forty-two stopping places on their way to the Promised Land. * Jesus's earthly ministry lasted forty-two months. The pieces of a puzzle began to fall into place. That hike was not going to be just a walk in the woods. Sunday morning, here in Margate, I walked to church. And, folks, the distance from our accommodation was exactly 4.2 km. Four-two. The whisper had become an exclamation. I quickly checked Facebook for the church service time. While scrolling, I noticed a name – a dear friend I had met exactly forty-two years ago. He replied immediately, explaining that his father is a member of that church and could help with the service times. He sent his father's voice message, and the first word cut sharply through my heart. His father calls him: "My Sonny." That single, tender term stirred my heart, reminding me of my own late father. My friend is so blessed to still have his father here on earth. Arriving at the church, another puzzle piece fell into place. The church was built with funding from a father in memory of his son who died in an accident. A father's love providing a house for his heavenly Father, also on behalf of His only Son. The theme of an intimate relationship with Jesus and His Father resonated that morning through the hymns and the sermon. The minister led us on a seated Camino to experience the greatness of God in the heavens, the sea, the fish, the birds, and the ankle-deep waves. The church was quite full, and the praise and worship songs were special. This congregation can sing! The forty-two kilometers that await us in May are no longer just a distance. They are an invitation to a "light walk," a "listening walk," together with the Father and His Son. Prayer Father, thank You for revealing Yourself through nature and through these "coincidences." Open our hearts to the guidance of Your Holy Spirit. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen. The deep longing for the Heavenly Father is depicted in Psalm 42 as a deer that thirsts for streams of water in dry places. #prayerwalk #radiopulpit #pilgrimstories