“You were already loved and welcomed.” 

Dear Clirè by Lindi van Loggenberg – Book Review
12 October 2024

You know, I’d like to think I’m the type of person who likes to mind her own business and keep her nose out of other people’s lives… Lies! I totally live for the drama. I love the occasional cup of tea with a scoop and some sprinkles on top. My eyes and ears are constantly open for the next thing. And I just happen to have a keen ear to God’s voice and the things concerning Him. So if anyone talks Jesus, honey, I’m all ears.

Such was the case as I was rummaging through the art shelves at PnA, Maerua Mall, for supplies to add to my wish list for my upcoming business: “I just want to share my story of how the Lord worked through my life and hopefully it will encourage someone else,” said Lindi van Loggenberg cheerily to the shop attendants assisting her with the packaging of her latest book, Dear Clirè. There was something in the way she said, “the Lord,” that only a fellow believer can understand. I was immediately hooked and wanted to hear more about what our Lord had done in this stranger’s life. I was attached. What was her testimony? My journalist skills kicked in as I lingered at the shelf just within earshot to hear more. “I want other people to know that they’re not alone,” she added, “That’s why I’m sharing my story.”

So what’s the story? Dear Reader, there is so much to unpack. So, let’s get started shall we?

Lindi describes herself as, “…a daughter of God, a wife and a mother…a ‘hands-on’ entrepreneur who loves to stand up for others.” And boy, did she stand up. Lindi shares her most vulnerable experience with us in this open letter to her daughter, Clirè, born prematurely at only seven months. I’m going to go off a slight tangent here but we’ll be back soon – I remember when my sister was pregnant and I was glued to her at the hip, watching and experiencing some things second-hand. Any food she didn’t want to eat, I ate. Whenever she needed a nap, we napped together. And wherever she waddled, I also waddled closely behind her like a little duckling.  Amongst all the wonder, the lessons, and the many, “I didn’t know that!” was the occasional frustrating question: “Why didn’t anyone say anything about this?” – Well, Dear Reader, Lindi has told us.

Lindi’s story is like no other, and yet, at the same time, it is the story of many. She opens up about the excitement of pregnancy, the wonder, the questions and the constant reminder that almost nothing is within our control. And all this while IN THE MIDST of COVID 19. If there’s anything that COVID has taught us all (and I’m sure we can all relate), is that, this world is fallen, unpredictable, and we are all hopelessly fragile. One moment, you could be on top of the world; at the top of your game, and the next moment could be touch-and-go, or simply… go.

The Bible says, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and it is extremely sick; Who can understand it fully and know its secret motives?” (Jeremiah 17:9 AMP), and that, “…He knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:14). And what a consolation it is to know that God understands! He is not surprised by our weakness. As Lindi continued to express her vulnerability, I noticed how as humans we often want to rush over our weak moments: We want to feel better quickly and declare the victory at soonest. How could we not want that? Is that not how life should be – without trouble? And yet, as we sojourn through this life, there is the constant reality that Death is very real and when it looms its head, we know deep down that such is not meant to be. A lot of us have passed through the valley of the shadow of Death. And I just love how Lindi constantly and explicitly expressed how she and her family clung to God and His promises, despite this uncomfortable realization. Before, during, and after receiving the news that baby and mom were not doing very well, the prayer was there. There was prayer for peace, protection, and for arms and legs to grow properly.

But what happens when things don’t go as planned; when a prayer seemingly goes unanswered…? Here is where things get really tough. I’m reminded of the time when Lazarus was about to die and word was sent to Jesus immediately, “Lord, behold, he whom you love is sick.” Jesus responded with a promise, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” I imagine that when the sisters of Lazarus, Martha and Mary, heard this promise, they breathed a sigh of relief. “Jesus is coming to heal him,” they must have thought to themselves. It was touch-and-go, but Jesus would come soon right? No. According to them, He didn’t arrive soon enough: “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died,” they despaired. How often we think that because this world throws a punch and a kick, the reason is because God is not there or that He does not even care to look and behold. But Psalm 139:7-12 says this about God:

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

God knows everything and sees everything. Nothing is beyond His sight. Jesus said that even small birds that fall to the ground are seen as well (Matthew 10:29-31). I believe Him, because when I see a dead bird in the street, or drive past roadkill, my heart always breaks a little and I manage to say, “oh, poor thing.” And we, as God’s children think God does not care. But even when we think such of God, He still lingers with us in our emotion and failure. Not rushing over our weakness. The shortest verse in the Bible, “Jesus wept,” illustrates this about God. Dear Reader, let’s dwell here for a moment. Picture this:

You’re at a funeral. Someone is gone. There are those who don’t cry, but keep things going, up and down, to make sure everyone is fed and that the funeral runs smoothly. There is a person who’s crying silently in a corner alone. There is the one who is most hurt, who’s frame is bent over because it feels like a piece of them was removed from their very core. There are those who wail and those who console and cry together with. And there’s a person who just can’t take it, and they just pass out. Once one wave of heaving is complete, the clouds clear for a moment. They share their stories about Someone and laugh as they remember some things. They relate and agree, “Indeed, we all loved Someone.” There is anger, disbelief and certainly grief. And then the next wave begins. And this cycle repeats, kind of like how waves at the ocean toss to and fro. Sometimes the waves come in rapidly, crashing loudly, leaving no room to breathe. And some come in slowly, and spaced out. Jesus lingered in that. He was there. He was looking. The Bible does not say how long Jesus lingered in that moment with Martha and Mary. But we know that one day, is like a thousand years to God and vice versa. If we put together all the people who have mourned the loss of someone or something, how long has God, our Father, really mourned? Clirè’s Dad penned the following as the whole family waited in anticipation; planning and preparing for her soon arrival:

“Daddy occasionally gets a picture in my head of what you will be like one day and how we will do things together as a family. It feels like God is showing me fractions of the future. Now I look forward to it even more…”

The Word says that God knows us and formed us. He planned us and planned for us (Jeremiah 29:11). He saw our days written for us, before we were born. Psalm 139:15 -16 says (boldface and underline mine):

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.

And I believe, just like Clirè’s Dad, he looked forward to how He would spend time with us. He looked forward to how He would linger with us in our happy moments and especially our sad moments. 

Lindi’s book is a beautiful reminder of God’s presence in our lives; how He does answer prayers (although He doesn’t always answer in the way we’d like). It is a huge comfort to know that God is not ashamed of us when things don’t go as planned. He does not push us away or scold us when we can’t take it and just want to pass out. He lets us ask questions, and even allows us to doubt Him. Although this world is unpredictable, we can trust that God IS NOT. Lindi’s testimony has affirmed to me that God simply wants to linger and stay. And in all times, He’s all we need.

Clirè is now a beautiful, strong little girl. I know, because I had the chance to meet the little one. And she's destined for God's greatness!

Dear Lindi,
if you’re reading this: Thank you for sharing your testimony and showing how God is there and that I’m not alone.