PART XIV: Die Voortrekkers (The Pioneers)

In 1652, the Dutch sent people to create colonies, just like most other empires of the time. They decided to tame the Cape of Good Hope, but only a tiny portion of it. Not truly colonising as the USA or New Zealand was colonised. But just a tiny outpost to provide fresh fruit grown on local farms to the ships on their long voyage from Europe past Africa to the East. The colony became so successful that it expanded. And expanded. People came here from different countries. My people's ancestors were mostly a mixture of Dutch, German and French Huguenots. It grew to thousands, then tens of thousands of people. And was very, very successful. So successful, that England eyed it. And obtained it from the Dutch after their war in Europe.

From around 1800's, they sent their people to start administrating it for the Crown of England. Especially from 1820, they “re-colonised” it, their way. Anglicizing everything. Churches. Municipalities. Towns. Schools. Everyone, everywhere, had to speak and write in English, no matter their own home tongue.

Our people begged, pleaded, wrote letter after letter to both the Monarchy in the UK and the Netherlands. We even sent delegations to plead in person. We were refused any help or leniency. “Worship in English”, was the command. Teach your children in English, they demanded. Speak English on the town plains, they ruled. Answer municipal forms in English, they decreed.

My people rebelled. We were Dutch-speaking, and reformed, not Anglican. We spoke what they called a “kitchen-dutch”, as it evolved when other people joined the original Dutch here. From around the 1700's, we were Afrikaans-speaking. A new language birthed right here in the Cape of Good Hope. English was foreign and different and difficult to us.

So we split into 2 groups. Those who stayed and fought the “Crown” locally, but accepted the change in status quo for the time being. They became the Cape Afrikaners. And those who rebelled, were called the Trekboere, Boere (farmers) or Voortrekkers. Those who pulled at the “front”. Who journeyed first. Still Afrikaners, still the same stock, the same people, but with a different calling. They went inland, North out of the British sphere of influence. Out of their borders. Out of their control. We traded land with the local inhabitants, created towns and eventually, Republics North of the Cape of Good Hope. We spoke OUR language, named the towns and streets in our language. We still speak it to this day. It was acknowledge as a full-fledge language called Afrikaans all on its own in 1925 by the world.

So the majority of Afrikaners stayed in the Cape, but a chunk broke off and trekked into the wild and unknown, and were called the Pioneers, or in our language, Voortrekkers. Those going ahead of others.

That's what I now am. A Voortrekker. I read the letters of those people, who Trekked in the 1830's. Because everyone who Trekked, left behind family and friends, knowing they may never see them again. Never see their parents, sisters, brothers, uncles or aunts again. Their cousins or see their nephews and nieces grow up. Won't attend funerals or christenings again. Won't celebrate Christmas with family again, or visit in-laws for tea. Never again see friends for a night of chatter. They trekked, leaving everyone behind.

So they wrote them letters. And the letters were sad, but also uplifting. They usually acknowledge the pain they were inflicting on family staying behind, and they apologised, but also explained why they needed to leave.

And that was what I was asked to do. Spiritually. Emotionally. Even physically in some ways. I trekked. Away from my friends and most of my family. A strange concept in today's world with easy communication, but I'll get to that later on.

I'm called to be a pioneer, a Voortrekker. The rest will follow, but it would then be easier for them, because of those of us who trekked Voor, who moved ahead, first. We paved the road. The Voortrekkers laid out towns, created roads, started farms. When those from the Cape years and years later visited, or also trekked North, they had roads to travel on, towns to sleep over at, food all along the way, maps to guide them along.

But for the Voortrekkers there were nothing in the beginning. They went into the wilderness with no roads, little food, no towns, few pastors, almost no friends or family. Mostly only their husbands and children. And maybe a sister or brother or father who tagged along. Mostly, it was just a few small family units entering the wild unknown together, daring to follow the call in their hearts. To defy the mighty British Empire. To take on the unknown African soil. The harsh desert. The dry Karoo. The cold highlands. Where so many many many hardships happened to them. Unthinkable things. Unspeakable things. Just like it will happen to us, the New Voortrekkers, now. We will not all “make” it out unscathed. But we knew it just like those Voortrekkers knew it. We knew some of us will experience much heartache and hardship along the way. Just like they did.

It's thus not the easy way out.
They didn't flee. They moved out.
They weren't cowards. They were courageous.

They didn't abandon their families. They made new possibilities happen for them.

Exactly what we are doing. Those called like me. It may not be clear. But one day, people will look back and realise that what I did these past 5 years, made their road just that little bit easier. Because I went into the wild and built a road or drawn a map, they could follow it just a little bit easier later on.

They will never fully realise how I struggled, until I could lay that first pave stones. The fear I experienced, of the unknown, the wilderness, the wild. The animals I encountered there. The dangers I had to escape from. The falls and hurts I had to recover from time and time again. Freezing nights and blazing days. Stumbling in the dark at times. Travelling without a map. No idea where to go to find food, water or shelter next. Where or when it was safe to rest a bit. It was hard in a way only the other Pioneers will ever truly understand. Others just cannot, and I don't expect them to or want them to.

But I had to leave my friends behind, to do it.

Because they would've hold me back. Out of love. Out of fear. Out of misunderstanding. The families of the Voortrekkers begged them to stay. Oh, how they tried to hold on to them. Grabbed them. Accused them that they didn't love them. How could they do this to them? How could they leave them? For what reason?

Looking back, we now realise they HAD to. We today understand, they had to. Someone had to do it. They answered the call. But if they stayed, they couldn't be part of it. Only those who trekked first, were Voortrekkers. The rest who followed in the decades after were simply called Boere or Afrikaners. Only those who built the roads, towns and Republics in the beginning, were the Voortrekkers, the Pioneers. Some who felt the calling, got scared, and stayed in the Cape for another 5 or 10 years, and only then joined later. It was their choice. But they would never be listed as a Voortrekker Family.

I was called, and because of my promise in 2000, I refused to let fear stop me. And my little family was destined, and called, to be a Voortrekker family. I was given a choice, and I chose “yes”. For my family's sake. But also for the sake of the people I knew would follow us. Eventually.

I answered the call. And then I had to “leave” everything behind. Because if I stayed, I couldn't be part of it all. I could not still be a friend and follow the new.

Because words MATTER. If a friend would see what I had to go through these past 5 years. If I phoned someone and shared it... If they would visit me and I'd told them.... they would've declared it not from the Lord.

They would have said that it was evil, that I was loosing my mind, going crazy, and they would've tried to help me by offering advice. That advice would be the EXACT opposite of what I actually had to do. They would have told me to stop listening, to stop following, to stop going off into the unknown ahead, all alone. To steer clear of the snakes and pitfalls, the mountains and the rivers, the rough terrain ahead of me. It is natural that they would have warned me, looked out for me, and declare it “too unsafe”, “too dangerous”.... “too different”, “too new”.

I had to push through. Face my fears alone. Face the wild alone. Stare the snakes down. Climb the mountains barefoot (like our women folk truly did 200 years ago). On my own. Because they, my friends, would say no, not that way. There lies danger! And I would have listened to them, because that's who I am. I listen to the voices of people I love. I listen and adhere to their advice, their commands, their worry for me. I would listen, stop, and eventually have turned back.

And God knew that.

Even without their voices, I many, many times seriously considered turning back. I came so very close to giving it all up, so many times. Only by His Spirit, was I able to continue. To stand up, wipe the blood from my knees and nose, and walk on.

God showed me a dream in 2018 of what the next 2 years would be like for me. To explain, I'll relate part of the dream here.

I was running out of a farm house, away from family and friends and people milling around in the house. Some tried to call me back, some even physically tried to stop me. Some mocked me. Others taunted me. Some just watched me go, confused.

I ran. Out, down the steps. I fell, and cried, and stood up again. And kept on running away. Down the dirt road. Through a lane of trees. Over grass fields. I passed towns. I ran until I couldn't any more. Then I crawled. Then I leopard crawled. I dragged my legs little bit for little bit forward over the dust and the rocks and the dry grass.

In the end, I couldn't any more. I was laying on a piece of field, unable to move at all. I felt the sun shine down on me. I heard my own faltering breath. And I saw the darkness closing in. Someone gave me a bit of water. It revived me and I opened my eyes. Then I saw my husband and heard him assure my children that “she's okay, she's breathing, she'll be fine”. And I was.

I stood up. Dead tired, but capable of moving again. I walked on. And I heard a voice say that this will last 48 hours (I was shown in another dream that it meant 2 years). My husband followed me, and the children as well. They didn't need to run, and didn't get tired. It was me that was running, they followed, but I never saw how. They were just always around me when I stopped to take a rest. I saw no one else during the first part of the dream. I was alone, with my husband and kids on-looking.

This dream came true, The next part that I won't get into here, happened in May 2020. And then another part like this above, had to follow again, but I wasn't told how long that part would last.

If I still had friendships, my friends would've stopped me (for my health, my mental health, my Spiritual health). They would not know or understand, that what I was doing, was breaking new ground. Opening new pathways. The dream clearly showed that no one would understand why, but I had to flee into the wilderness alone. And that it would be so hard, that it would almost claim me. But when necessary, I would be strengthen enough to continue. It would be so hard and difficult, that friends would've tried to stop me. I thus had to go at it alone, without friends knowing where I was, or what I was doing. Only my little family knowing, seeing it all. 

This dream thus came true from around May 2018 to May 2020. Another part described the process of 2020 up to today. Only a last small part still left at the end, which I didn't describe above, but which basically is exactly what I'm doing here, on the blog.

So I travelled into the wild from 2018-2021, then I settled down a bit and started helping to create “the maps” from March 2021. I was a “cartographer”, by being a Scribe.

Isn't God's Ways absolutely astonishingly amazing?

I could never, ever have understood this in the beginning (and explain it to friends or family!). Only now that He has clearly showed the path I walked to me, I see it. I now understand what has happened to me, these past 5 years. Why it was necessary. Why I had to do what I had to do. Why I had to be all alone. Why it was so difficult. Why I struggled so much, fumbling around, never clearly see the way ahead, but always had to take one step after another in pure faith. Why I felt God's sympathy for my struggles so keenly, because it truly was, indeed, very very hard and scary and new. And why He needed to guide me continously. Else, I would've been either lost or turned around.

And now I understand why I needed to update the blog again. To start writing my testimony. My story. Because just like I read the letters of those Trekboere of 2 eons ago, people will one day read my story. It will help them understand why we did what we did. And why it seemed messy and chaotic and hazy. Because it truly was breaking new grounds, going into the wild, setting up towns and roads where there have never been such before. But this time, all in the Spiritual Realm. One day, when I'm over the trauma of it all, I may go into the detail of what I encountered on my travels.

To my friends and family whom I had to leave behind before I set off on my journey.
I am so very sorry I hurt all of you. But please understand. I had to do it. For myself. For my God. For my Calling. But also for my Children.

And for all that will one day follow. They would not need to follow alone, but with friends and families. They would not need to go into the wilderness, but there will be towns and roads and maps, prepared for them. By God Himself, using vessels like me. They would see the markers on the maps of where dangers lurked. Where to cross the rivers or find the mountain passes. Where to find a town with fresh food.  And one day, when they have arrived in the “new promised lands”, they will look back and realise how much it has helped to have been given these maps.

One last point I was made aware of as well. When the Voortrekkers left the Cape, there were others who mocked and scoffed at them. There were even those who hated them, called them names and declared them evil for leaving. And some called them vile names for "leading our people astray". 

Oh, how stupid they must've felt about 7 years later, when the Voortrekkers had established beautiful towns, laid out fruitful farms and could freely work for themselves, not the Crown, nor the Dutch. When the new free Republics were called out and acknowledged as Sovereign by the world. Towns and street names and mountains and farms were called after the names of those Voortrekkers. Those in the Cape that mocked and scorned them for "leading their people to the devil itself", went down in the annals as nobodies, their names forgotten. 

It was the brave Voortrekkers who endured a few years of hardship, that were rewarded with the fruits of their labour, as well as all their family and friends that believed in them, and followed, even a bit later. Those staying in the Cape, hating the Voortrekkers, didn't participate in the resulting freedom from underneath the English yoke. They didn't get to have a new piece of land, where they were truly free at last. They didn't get to experience the adventures, nor be remembered by the next generations.

I was shown that the same will happen now. Those who mocked us and called us names, will see us live in freedom, enjoying the fruits of our labour. Because we were not scared like they were, when the call came to "leave the Cape", leave the known for the unknown. They believed the calling was from the devil and stayed where it was safe and secure under the English yoke, while calling us evil for trusting in our calling and our Lord's guarding Hand over us. 

Friends and family who come to believe us, and realise we are still brothers and sisters in Christ, and not evil, or false prophets or have Jezebel spirits (as we have been called by those scared to leave their safety nets), will participate with us in the coming resulting freedom and receive "farms" in the "promised lands". Those who mocked, will have to wait a bit longer.

The "promised lands" and what it means, and what receiving a "farm" means, will become clearer very soon. It's wonderful and amazing and beautiful. 

Continuing in The Covenant here.