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

Numbers of Blessings

I want to begin by expressing my sincere gratitude to each of you who faithfully listens to my stories on Radio Pulpit. I vividly recall recording a message of hope for War Veterans while I was climbing high in the mountains. The heartfelt and honest feedback I received was overwhelming.

Following another broadcast, I received a personal invitation to coffee in Koffiefontein, should I ever be in the area. I accepted and was astonished to learn that the woman herself hadn't sent the message. Unable to read or write, she had asked her daughter to write it for her. As we chatted over coffee, Radio Pulpit played softly in the background as it usually does the whole day in her house. In between, she quoted Scripture verbatim, from memory. Smiling, she explained that she memorizes each Sunday's Scripture passages. Her heart is a fountain of living water from the Word, proving that obedience, not literacy, is key.

This past weekend, I joined Marelise at a Touching Hearts ministry in Bethlehem. A woman shared that she listens to my stories on Tuesdays at 10:00 AM. Later, her husband told us that the Lord had laid the word "petrol" on his heart. He insisted on filling our car before we drove back to Lindley, simply out of obedience, unsure why.

To our amazement, the pump stopped at exactly R777.70. Seven-777 – surely not a coincidence. It was a holy sign in the mundane, a divine signature on a petrol slip. In Scripture, the number seven represents rest, fullness, and liberation, and the Lord's Prayer contains seven petitions directed to the Father. Everything, even a petrol pump, can become a pulpit.

On the way home, we stopped to buy a few things. The total: R111.55. One-one-one – a threefold confirmation of new beginnings, spiritual awakening, and grace flowing in abundance.

This reminds me of my prayer-walks, several of which have measured exactly 153 kilometers. Searching the Bible, I found in John 21:9 that the disciples hauled in a net containing 153 fish. The number 153, for years just a number, started unfolding like a heavenly code.

Our lives are woven with signs – numbers, encounters, a chance word, an unexpected gift. These are not mere coincidences, but the whisper of the heavens to the earth, the invisible to the visible. I want to be awake – with all my heart, my eyes and my ears open to the messages hidden in the smallest of things.

May we see the ever-present God in everything around us and experience Him fully – even on the road, at the pump, in a number on a slip, in the smile of a listener who cannot read, but knows the Word.

Prayer with seven petitions:

Our Father Who is in heaven,
1. hallowed be Your name; 
2. Your kingdom come;
3. Your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven; 
4. Give us this day our daily bread; 
5. And forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors; 
6. And lead us not into temptation,
7. but rescue us from the evil one.
For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

 May you discover and enjoy God's heavenly treasures here on earth in full measure today. And may your eyes be open to a sevenfold blessing – and the 153 fish – on your own life's journey.

 

The Rain and the Dust

Two miracles occurred right here in Lindley the day before yesterday – Sunday, February 1st, my younger brother's birthday, no less.

A notice had been posted in Lindley's community group announcing a repentance prayer service for rain. I even bravely packed my rain jacket. After the service, we enjoyed coffee and a pleasant visit with fellow Lindley residents. The walk home was hot, with no rain clouds to offer relief.

That Sunday afternoon passed uneventfully in our small Free State town. Later, our cell phone signal suddenly returned, just in time for a call from a local farmer. He had visitors from Stoffberg and invited us to join them. Hearing the names of the Stoffberg visitors gave me goosebumps.

Sometime late last year, Wynand interviewed a farmer from Stoffberg on Radio Pulpit. The farmer described the Father-and-Son camps offered on his farm. As I listened, I felt a strong desire to meet him and spend time together. His devotion to the Lord and the fascinating camps prompted me to pray, asking if it might be possible to meet him.

Now, a few months after that prayer, the cell signal returned at precisely the right moment for my prayer to be answered. Marelise and I excitedly jumped into the car and navigated the roughly 10 kilometers of tar road, followed by 5 kilometers of dirt road, and then a kilometer or so of two-track path up to the farmhouse.

I was so thankful it hadn't rained after the prayer service, because the dirt roads would have been impassable.

My visit with the farmer was a true blessing and a joy straight from the Father's hand. I felt spoiled. And to top it off, there was even a sausage on the coals.

The Lord heard a simple prayer from an ordinary man, which fills me with humility.

Later in the evening, a sudden wind drove us inside, where we continued our visit. Rumbling thunder and flashes of lightning eventually urged us to say goodbye and head home along the dirt road. I was grateful the two-track path remained dry, ensuring we wouldn't get caught in the rain. Lightning flashed continually all around us, illuminating dark clouds. Just as we turned from the dirt road onto the tar road, it began to rain. Outside Lindley, the downpour forced me to drive slowly.

We arrived home safely, and two hours later, I fell asleep to the sound of pouring rain.

Two prayers, two miracles. But the most important thing is that one miracle had to wait so that another prayer could be answered.

Prayer for Humility:

Father, thank You for hearing and answering our prayers. I pray that we will pray with more faith and then wait for the answer from a place of rest, faith, and trust. I pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.

God answered these prayers precisely and with wisdom, not in my time, but in His Heavenly timing.