Personal Story, UncategorizedComments (6)


Perhaps you are older than me. Perhaps you can see where I cannot. I have not yet crossed this line. I know that there will be a clear before and after; a never to be the same again moment. I am approaching the “I do”, that lifelong commitment to remain faithful to one person. Now I am caught in the in between.


This is where I’m at, standing on some no man’s land. You know, the stretch between border posts after having left the one country before entering the next. I’m somewhere between where I was and where I’ll be. When you are engaged you often find yourself between nowhere and everywhere all at the same time! Well, that’s the way I feel anyway.

I feel stretched between the here and the there; between being single and being married. Everything that was should be aligned to where I will end up. Now, in my case things get more interesting as I live in Pretoria and my fiancé currently finds himself in Richardsbay. With that I’m also in the process of being uprooted from my hometown before I’m transplanted that side. All of this has me a little confused. Parts of me lag behind while my head is in the future. No man’s land.

Where is it that I was and where is it that I’m going to?


A while back I made an artwork that caught me off guard. Here’s how, and I quote parts of the entry I made with the release of the artwork entitled “A line on the Horison”: “An interesting phenomenon often takes place while I work on a particular artwork. Somehow, without it having been my intention, it starts to symbolise something that is taking place in my life during the time of its creation.”

I wrote this poem as an expression of what I experienced and thought about during its creation. I wrote it the week before my cornea transplant*. There were times when the artwork drew me in like it was a spiritual place and that God was calling me out onto the waters; to trust Him. I won’t interpret the rest for you as part of it is still uncertain. Time will tell.”

A Line on the Horison:

Is it that I see in part?

Is it that I’m afraid that my feet may fail?

Yet, I hear You calling me out onto the waters…

You invite me to discover the line on the horison

Will my eyes come to focus?

Will the line become land?

*For more background on my infection & cornea transplant read Blog: Out of the Blue & Blog: On the Bright Side. The second blog also explains the process that lead up to this artwork from a different personal angle.


Sybrandt and I were not sure where we would end up. We had been praying for a way forward. We had to walk on the water or go crazy. We were doing what we could. We stood before a left or a right; no middle road. We were either staying on these shores or moving to another. We lived in uncertain times without clear vision of where to next.

I had received my cornea transplant, but it was still a while before my eye would be anywhere near being healed, let alone be able to focus. But we were very relieved that the operation itself had been a success.

It felt like forever before we knew where we could plan to build a future. It felt like forever before we knew we could plan to build a future on local shores. Those of Richardsbay.

Sybrandt had 2 weeks to pack up his life in Pretoria. A third week for training in another province and one day to ask me to marry him before he had to leave. That day we entered the in between. Since then we have had too few hello’s and too many goodbyes.


So here we are: between where we were and where the line lies on the horison. No longer locked in uncertainty, but not yet at our destination. We will cross that line early next year with shouts and tears of joy. We will not only be reunited in space and time, but we will become one. We will declare our commitment to stay together in covenant marriage before God & man.

The other in between is my sight. Surgery is in the past, but I’m not yet without stitches. At this stage it seems like it will be a 13 month period. Up to now, my left eye slowly improved from only being able to see a bright white light (and between 5 & 10% sight before the transplant) to somewhere around 30 & 40% thereafter. March 2018 the stitches will probably be removed. We will again have to wait and see what the outcome will be. A possibility would be a form of vision correction laser eye surgery in order to limit the remaining astigmatism and nearsightedness.

The line seems to become a little more clear every day.

I can feel it coming closer.

Soon enough I’ll be in white;

we’ll be walking into the future as one.

No one ever said the Promised land would be Paradise. But no man’s land has never been a destination either. Our adventure has only just begun!

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» Personal Story, Uncategorized » BLOG: NO MAN’S LAND & BEYOND

November 14, 2017

6 Responses to BLOG: NO MAN’S LAND & BEYOND

  1. Mike says:

    Hello Lana (from Mike) … you have taken time to tell us of your journey, your status. You have done it in your typical, creative, artistic way. You have made me feel, not just given me facts. Thank you. Thank you for taking time to express all of this to me / to us. I can see this entire journey has NOT been easy. I need to spend time praying for your eyes. I am making that commitment right now. God IS with you! I Corinthians 15;58… “be steadfast, immovable, ALWAYS abounding in the work of the Lord…”

  2. Charntel says:

    Run the race until thee end ❤️

  3. Debbie Swinton says:

    So mooi weergawe van al die gebeure ! Ek glo en vertrou dat daardie lyn mettertyd sal verdwyn en alles 100% sigbaar sal wees ….. letterlik en figuurlik !

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