Life Lessons: Your relationship with Jesus matters more than religion

I was born in Grahamstown (Makhanda), South Africa, in 1934. My father worked for Barclays Bank, so we were transferred all over the place. We didn’t stay in Grahamstown for very long and eventually ended up in east London.

My sister was four years older than me. We went together to the convent in Queenstown (now known as Komani) and when she matriculated, my parents decided to send me to boarding school in Umtata (Mthatha), as we had a lot of family in the Transkei.

I was brought up in a Christian home, but I was very steeped in discipline and in the rules of the Church. That kind of upbringing gives you a lot of structure, and I’m grateful for that. But it can also become a stumbling block. When you’re brought up in a certain religion, you can feel as though you already have it all – that there’s nothing beyond what you’re used to.

For a long time, my faith was about church law, obligation and doing the right thing. I believed in Father, Son and Holy Spirit, but it wasn’t personal. It was more about rules than relationship.

When religion transformed to relationship 

The change began in my early 30s, around the time of the renewal movement in the late 1970s. I was already married – I married Clive when I was 25. He believed in God, but he was what we used to call a ‘Christmas and Easter Anglican’. He believed, but church wasn’t really central for him.

A big part of my faith becoming real came through a little lady called Noel. I often say she had the guts to speak out about Jesus. Noel visited Ursula, a friend of my sister Doreen, who was ill and homebound in recovery. Ursula used to get quite annoyed with her because Noel always talked about Jesus and the Holy Spirit. But she persevered – and eventually Ursula became completely on fire for the Lord and started a small cell group to which I was invited by my sister.

I was reluctant at first, as I was a bit wary of how on fire my sister was becoming. But she too persevered with me. In our church background, we didn’t really have Bibles; it was more about church discipline and law. But when Ursula opened the scriptures, suddenly I met the Person of Jesus. I had always known about Him, but now He became real. I realised that religion is not the way, relationship is.

When I first gave my life to the Lord, I didn’t even have a Bible. I went out and bought a Good News Bible and couldn’t get enough of the words written in red, showing everything Jesus said. The Person of Jesus became so real to me, and that’s what is missing in deep religiosity. Jesus wasn’t religious. He met people in the marketplace, where life happens. 

Ursula spoke about asking the Holy Spirit into your life. I wanted that gift. One evening, while my husband was out at a meeting, I sat on the bed and prayed: “Lord, I want this gift”. I thought I wanted to speak in tongues, but instead I began to sing in a language I didn’t know. It was quite funny, really, but it was real.

At that time, I was still worshipping in my mainline church, but I wasn’t happy. After being exposed to so much life, everything else felt dead. I carried on attending, but I began writing poetry, holding on to the things Ursula had taught us and expressing what God was doing in me.

Relocation 

My husband and I tried for nine years to have a baby, and we were going to adopt, but then I became pregnant. We have two children, Rory, now 54, and Anne, 52. We found Rory had hearing loss, caused by an antibiotic he was given as a baby after an infection. We didn’t realise it at first as sometimes he would react to sound, sometimes not. Later, we discovered he was totally deaf in one ear and partially hearing in the other. From about the age of three and a half, he wore a hearing aid.

When it came time for secondary school, there was nothing suitable for him in east London. I had worked at a school for the hard of hearing there, which was really God’s hand on my life, because the speech therapist taught me how to help Rory. Eventually, she suggested we move to Cape Town, so he could attend the Dominican School for Deaf Children. That’s how we came to Cape Town. 

Not long after we arrived, my husband asked me to go to an Easter service at St Martin’s. Peter Campbell, whom we knew from east London, was the priest. The service was extraordinary – people praying in tongues, prophesying, worshipping freely. As we walked out, I said to my husband: “I’m coming here!” He said: “If you do that, I’ll come with you every Sunday”. And he did.

Later, at a service at St Martin’s where Jean Guthrie (who featured in the July 2025 issue of Woman Alive) was speaking, there was an altar call. My husband was at the back. I kept praying: “Lord, make him go forward”. He didn’t move, so I went back and said: “Come with me”. He said he wasn’t ready. I asked him: “Who’s telling you that?” We went together, and as Jean prayed, he was completely overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit. 

Life as a widow

Eventually, I formally left my former church and received a letter of excommunication, which I still have. I was told that if I ever wanted to return, I would have to go through catechesis again. I decided that wasn’t for me.

Not long after that, my husband died suddenly, aged 59, of a heart attack while attending a men’s fellowship Christmas function. I was 57. Rory was 20, and Anne was just 18 and a half. It was very young to be a widow. But God was so good to me – my women’s fellowship group was with me that very night, as we were having our end-of-year function. God saw that I was not alone. After that, I worked as a secretary at St Martin’s, first with Peter Campbell and then with Trevor Pearce. Being surrounded by church community sustained me during that time.

Years later, I had a very good friend whose husband collapsed and died suddenly at a meeting. When I went to see her, I just put my arms around her and said: “No words”, because she knew that I knew. As it says in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God”.

When I retired, I asked the Lord where He wanted to use me. A ministry called Cross to Salvation came up, feeding and praying with homeless and vulnerable people. I fought it. I told the Lord very clearly that it wasn’t for me. But eventually I went, and I stayed involved for 26 years. Through it, I learned so much about people’s lives, gang violence, loss, fear and how to pray when there are no words. Due to Covid, the Cross to Salvation ministry changed and I became involved in praying for Blouvlei and Crestway Schools. We walked the school grounds, prayed with teachers and pupils, and claimed the schools for God. At one point, Crestway was labelled with the worst matric results in the province. After sustained prayer, the school achieved an 85% pass rate, proving the power of prayer.

Looking back, I see the importance of perseverance. People like Noel, Ursula and my sister spoke even when I avoided them, and the ripple effect has been enormous.

Jesus wasn’t religious. He met people in the marketplace

My son is on fire for the Lord, and so is my daughter, my granddaughter and my grandson. I often say: “Thank you, Lord, for Noel”, because of that ripple effect. It’s so important to keep speaking, to keep sowing. I even wrote a poem called ‘Sow the seeds anyway’. I’ve lost touch with Noel now, she may not even be alive, but my sister and I are so grateful that she persevered and kept talking about Jesus.

One verse that has always stayed with me is Proverbs 19:21: “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails”. I didn’t plan many of the paths my life took, but God did. 

If there is one thing I am most grateful for, it is being rescued from religiosity into relationship. The motivation is no longer obligation, but the love of God. That makes all the difference.

For more info on Jeanette’s ministry go to chscapetown.com