About

Welcome to Pencil In His Hand. :)

My name is Alison Lawrence. I am a Jesus' follower, first and foremost. I am also a wife and mom of six: three young men, and three young ladies. We live in South Africa.

I have loved to write from a young age. These days, I write inspirational stories and poems, as well as some non-fiction.

My main motivation in writing is to honour the Lord, and to encourage others. I prefer to write stories and poems that contain a message of hope, and often share the Gospel.

I have a few encouraging stories and poetry volumes available on Amazon. (Links on Books/Links page.) Also, please share the website, links, and free reads, (many available on my blogs) with friends and family to help spread the Good News as well as hope and encouragement. Thanks! :)

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You may like to read more poetry, gardening posts, Afrikaans content, and more free reads on my other blogs: 

Afrikaans content:

'n Bekertjie Vol Hoop 

And pop over to the Book 

Page, as well as to the Free Pdf's & More Page for extra content. :)

Gardening blog

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My Testimony:

He Stooped Down:

A memoir of my Salvation.

Part one: A Merciful Interruption

I pushed the stroller through the ozone laden air, past elderly folk out for a walk, then along the busy main road where shops stood shoulder to shoulder and cars crept along on their way to work. My young husband walked with me 'til we reached the butcher's shop where he worked. He kissed me goodbye and we parted reluctantly.

 My little boy grew excited as we neared the beach and I smiled and quickened my pace. I liked to start the day on a happy note, with sea music and fragrance, ice cream and play. The elderly swimmers always beat us to the beach and I wondered at their brave determination. It was a simple, happy life for the most part: I had my two special men and my family lived nearby. Loving parents, always ready to lend a hand. I don't imagine I appreciated nor thanked them enough. We lived in a little bachelor flat at the time. Baby slept in the alcove and we in the lounge. It came complete with a squinch. That's what the former occupant called the tiny balcony.

I remember our first Christmas there. DH got paid on Christmas Eve. He went straight after work to buy us presents. When he came back, I dove into the supermarket to get him cologne. Carolers came to our door. I was so delighted. I'd never heard carolers before. I guess it was almost like a blessing on our simple Christmas and I offered them Quality Street chocolates to say thank you.

We were too young to know much and we owned almost nothing but we had love. In many cases, that would have been enough: love, happiness and youth, not to mention, the baby you both wanted. I was a young housewife learning the ropes, cooking fish fingers and loving my husband and little son. I couldn't have guessed that I was about to set out on a quest nor that it was a quest I would have to embark on alone.

Darkness was invading my little patch of sunshine. Fear and dread crept in, but were not brought in by people. They invaded my happy space: gloomy whispers of death and dying. I was very afraid. Yet God in His mercy was beginning to wake me from my sleep.

******

Part Two: Childhood.

I was four, and jumping on a bed with my elder sister V and eating tennis biscuits. "We're going to Israel! We're going to Israel!" I shouted. At the time we were living in Plumstead, Cape Town. Dad was in the navy and we were being transferred to Israel. For two years. My memories start there mainly, probably because it was such a big change. So many exciting things happened from that time, that I suppose previous events faded into the background. There were new clothes and toys and a very long airplane trip. 

 So there we were: four South Africans suddenly transplanted to the land of the Bible. My mom, sister and I fitted in rather well with our dark hair. We stayed at a hotel for a while before moving into our Haifa apartment. This is where our love for Israel began. 🇮🇱

It was an old yet elegant apartment with marble floors. Fir trees grew around the building and my sister and I spent many happy moments knocking pine nuts out of the pine cones. Our sweet mom bought a sewing machine and sewed dresses for the three of us. She made friends with the neighbours and she and Dad practiced the Hebrew they were learning. Mom also practiced it at the shops. She was so pleased when she happened across Earl Grey tea. The Five Roses she'd packed didn't last long and Mom disliked the Israeli tea.

We made friends with Noah, our neighbours' little girl. Somehow, we were able to communicate. This was also the case when I attended a religious pre- school. My first memory of religion is of attending Jewish celebrations with my school friends. A little boy who wore a yarmulke became one of my friends. We were given an olive a day at preschool. My friends were always eager to eat my unwanted ones. There were other firsts too: pizza, street food and TV, which hadn't arrived in South Africa yet.

When Christmas came, much to our friend's fascination, we set up a real tree and decorated it with ornaments which my parents somehow managed to find. Mom cooked the traditional food and there were presents of course. We were given bikes which we learned to ride on Haifa sidewalks.

We sampled Israeli favourites like chocolate spread and cheesecake and spent many happy hours playing on the beach.

Dad would hire a car and we'd explore all the sites: Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Nazareth, the Dead Sea and Mount Hermon.

After a while, I joined my sister at the South African school, where our uniform was practical and made of denim. We wore hats wherever we went and mom never set out without her sunglasses.

We were also able to travel to Europe. My memories of our time there are typical little girl memories: graceful swans on the Bodensee, feeding pigeons in the square, the hotel cat in Paris and keeping bits of croissant to feed the birds. Being knocked over by a bicycle in Holland, eating the most wonderful hotdogs at a German park and visiting an incredible doll shop which housed more dolls than I could have dreamed of.

I have more precious memories of this time than I could tell. Life was happy and uncomplicated and even though I didn't know much about God, I feel as though He certainly knew me and watched over me even then.

*******

When the two years were up, we settled in Durban, and for the most part, lived in a verdant suburb called Yellowwood Park. We had the unusual perk of having a small game reserve nearby complete with zebra, monkeys and giraffe. It's hard to believe, but V and I used to sometimes go there on our own. Our garden was large with an avocado tree, a generous pool and a hammock strung between two palm trees.

At one point, we had three cats, a bunny and a black Labrador. My cat, Linda, a feisty building site cat, was devoted to me and no one else. My favourite memory is of coming home from school to my mom, who often had a pot of tea waiting. Mom liked to bake scones. Our cats would watch them rise, then score a tidbit when they came out the oven.

So many memories. I think fondly of outings and happy moments with my mom who is gone now.

I remember that I received a children's Bible when I was ten. We attended a convent for a short while and we went to confession and mass from time to time. Unfortunately, I never heard the Gospel being explained. There were some songs and instruction, but I came away without anything firm to hold on to. It was all very vague. When I was twelve, we moved to Cape Town. I was about to enter high school and a very different environment sadly lacking a firm foundation.

*******

I floundered at the large well-known girls' school. I felt awkward and geeky and it wasn't easy to make friends or to feel accepted. The girls gravitated towards cliques and I had no idea where I fit in. And I didn't, that first year. I enjoyed art and felt more comfortable around the arty crowd. The following year, I made a couple of friends. I don't remember any of the girls talking about going to church or about God. I learned from a friend about Eastern religion and I learned to drink and party, but that was all. Of course, we had assemblies, where we had prayer and hymns. Each girl carried a little hymn book in her pocket. It's odd to think that I sang our head-mistresses' favourite, "The Lord's my Shepherd '' with absolutely no idea of its meaning. Naturally shy and introverted, I quickly discovered that alcohol helped me to feel more confident. I was on a slippery slope. On one hand, I was studying hard and doing fairly well at school, on the other, I was seeking acceptance in the wrong places. I've often thought that if God hadn't been watching over me, I might not be here today.

*******

Despite my rebellion, I was able to achieve a matric exemption. We relocated to Durban and I signed up to study for a Bachelor of Arts at Durban University with English and French as my majors. I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I had no clear plan and some of the subjects I chose were pretty random. I continued to drink and went to nightclubs with my friends. Like my mother, I actually preferred to read and stay home. I also studied hard, but I had fooled myself into thinking that I needed to behave a certain way in order for people to like me and accept me. I was becoming a self-absorbed young woman, who had no idea of right and wrong. Neither did I question any of the philosophies I came across at university. I had no compass to guide me and didn't believe in God.

It was at this time that I met DH at a party. We soon knew we wanted to always be together. Life was a party, but DH had some old-fashioned values and only marriage would do. I thank the Lord for that, but will always regret my selfishness and rebellion. After being married in court, we had a blessing service arranged by my parents. I remember being annoyed at having to go through with it. What was the point, I wondered, seeing as though I didn't even believe in God.

Now, many years later, I am gladdened by memories of that little chapel and the blessings that were spoken.

*******

Part Three: Rescue

Fish Hoek, Cape Town.

One day, I was in the bathroom of our little flat, when I had the strong impression that someone was speaking to me. Not aloud, but it was very clear. As a result of the fear and dread I'd been feeling, I'd begun to talk to God. Perhaps arguing with God would describe it better. I kept asking Him if He was real. This had been going on for some time. Now, I was alone in the bathroom hearing a clear direction and I knew it was God.

"Go to the library." Was the instruction. So I did. I put the baby in the stroller and off we went. I'm not sure of the exact titles I got out that first day: I think one of the books was about religions of the world. I went to the library regularly after that. Because I knew nothing about God and doubted His existence, it was necessary to start at the beginning. I would stand in front of the shelf of books and each time, God would highlight a title for me to read.

My quest was well underway. Aside from reading books, I continued to pray. I studied each religion and weighed up their pros and cons. My first ray of hope came when I reached Judaism. I loved Israel and was drawn to the family oriented festivals of Judaism. There was one problem. Judaism could not give me the assurance of Heaven. I desperately needed to know what would happen to me when I died. So far, none of the religions I read about could answer that question.

At this point, I was starting to believe in the possibility of God being real. For one, He appeared to be helping me. I also accepted the reality of an invisible spiritual dimension and that helped.

These were pre-cellphone days, so I had little to distract me from my mission. Now I had read about all the religions including Christianity. I stood before the library shelf. What would be next? Elderly clients frowned at my son as he made happy noises, but I ignored them. I had to get my next book. And then in a life changing moment, God highlighted a very different book. I'm almost sure it was the Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom, or perhaps it was another one of her books. I might have forgotten the title, but I'll never forget its influence on me. Never doubt the effectiveness of a life given over to Jesus. It is because Corrie ten Boom obeyed the Lord and wrote that book that I learned how to be saved. Reading about her life and sufferings caused me to want to be a Christian. I actually told God that I wanted to have her kind of faith. In her book, she explained how to be saved and I am so grateful to her. Perhaps I will thank her in person one day. You see, I knew no born again Christians and wouldn't have known where to find one. God in His great kindness and mercy, stooped down and led this sinner to the book of an old saint. Hallelujah! As Corrie herself would have exclaimed.

Once I'd read Corrie ten Boom's book, I knew clearly what I needed to do. I believed in God now and I needed to be saved. I knelt by the bed once my husband was asleep and began to pray. I felt a dark presence in the room and I was terrified, but I also knew I must continue. I confessed all my sin and asked Jesus to save me. Then I jumped into bed, wondering whether anything would change.

In the morning, I knew the answer! I was forever changed. All fear was gone. I had been born again. True joy filled me and I floated through the day. I told DH, and he was happy for me. I hadn't read the Bible yet, but Corrie ten Boom's words were drawn from God's Word. I did start reading the Bible, but had no church at this point. I experienced something so special at this time. God the Father had stooped down to point me to His Son: now the Son, through the Holy Spirit drew ever so close to me. I knew nothing and needed so much guidance and help. I remember how he instructed me to give to the poor. He accompanied me wherever I went; also as I visited churches in search of a church home.

That was about thirty years ago now, and still He walks with me. There have been many hard, rocky and desperate places, but He has never let go of my hand. Neither has He stopped teaching and guiding me, even when I didn't want to listen or started to stray, He would always gently guide me back. Sometimes there has been discipline too, but He never gives up on me.

To God be all the praise and glory for His wonderful salvation and love.

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