It is a difficult season in Namibia.

We have recently been reminded just how vulnerable we are to the things we cannot control. Foot-and-mouth disease has returned to our country after more than 60 years, bringing worry to farmers and everyone whose lives are connected to cattle, farming and the movement of livestock and meat. For many of us, it is not simply about animals or exports—it is about livelihoods, families and the future of our farms.

And then there is the rain.

We watch the skies, listen to the forecasts and wonder what the season ahead will bring. There is talk of El Niño and the possibility of a dry year, and here in Namibia, we know what that can mean. Rain is never just rain to us. It is hope. It is life.

Whether we live on a farm or in town, we are all connected to it in some way.

These are the things that have been on my heart as I sit on my Kalahari porch. There is so much we cannot control, and if I am honest, there are days when I find myself wrestling with it all.

Wrestling with the uncertainty.
Wrestling with what tomorrow may bring.

And yet, in the stillness, I am reminded of His goodness.

His faithfulness.

His presence.

I am reminded that sometimes faith isn’t about having all the answers. Sometimes it is simply about being still.

Be still, and know that I am God. — Psalm 46:10

Be still.

Not because there is nothing to worry about,
but because He is God.

He is faithful.
He is present.
He is enough.

And so, as I sit here looking out across the Kalahari, I choose to remember that we are not carrying this alone.

God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. — Psalm 46:1

We may face difficult days.
The future may feel uncertain.

But God is not. He is ever-present

So today, I will be still.

I will trust.

And I will remember that the God who has carried us through every season before is still with us now—faithful, present, and holding us through this one too.

Be still, and know that He is God.

And perhaps on difficult days, there is something comforting about coming back to the simple things we can still do: gathering around a table, sharing food, and making time for the people we love.

There is something deeply comforting about a meal that takes its time.

A pot simmering slowly in the oven. The aroma of garlic, tomatoes and herbs filling the kitchen. Tender meat falling from the bone. Orzo soaking up all those beautiful flavours, finished with creamy feta, fresh basil and a squeeze of lemon.

Today, I am cooking slow-cooked Greek lamb shanks with orzo.

It is hearty, generous and unhurried—the kind of food that asks you to slow down and linger a little longer around the table.

And perhaps that is what I need right now.

To slow down.

To give thanks for what we have.

To share a meal.

And to remember that even in uncertain times, there is still goodness to be found in the ordinary moments.

And a faithful God beside us through it all.

With love from My Kalahari Kitchen, Aldalene

Greek-Style Lamb Shanks with Creamy Orzo

These Greek-inspired lamb shanks are bursting with Mediterranean flavours, making them a delicious and comforting alternative to the traditional Sunday roast.

Ingredients

• 4 lamb or springbok shanks — approximately 1.6 kg / 3½ lb
• 15 ml / 1 tbsp olive oil
• 2 large onions, halved and thinly sliced
• 6 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
• 30 ml / 2 tbsp tomato paste
• 250 ml / 1 cup red wine
• 2 x 400 g / 14 oz cans chopped tomatoes
• 10 ml / 2 tsp brown sugar
• 5 ml / 1 tsp dried Italian herbs
• 3 ml / ½ tsp ground cinnamon
• A little freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 sprig fresh rosemary
• 2 bay leaves
• Approximately 500–750 ml / 2–3 cups beef or game stock, as needed
• 200 g / 7 oz orzo
• 30 ml (2 tbsp) fresh basil, roughly torn or chopped.
• 1 lemon, zest and juice
• 1 cup of cherry tomatoes (optional)
• 150–200 g / 5–7 oz feta, crumbled
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 160°C / 325°F.
2. Make a few deep cuts into the meaty part of each shank and season generously with salt and pepper.
3. Heat the olive oil in a large ovenproof casserole over medium-high heat. Brown the shanks well on all sides, about 5–10 minutes. Remove and set aside.
4. Add the onions and garlic to the same pot and cook until softened and lightly golden.
5. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for another minute. Pour in the red wine, scraping the bottom of the pot to loosen all the delicious browned bits.
6. Allow the wine to reduce by about half.
7. Add the chopped tomatoes, brown sugar, Italian herbs, cinnamon, nutmeg, rosemary and bay leaves. Season with salt and pepper.
8. Return the shanks to the pot. Add enough stock so the meat is almost covered.
9. Cover with the lid and place in the oven for approximately 2 hours, or until the meat is beautifully tender and almost falling from the bone. (Venison meat will take longer. Cook till almost falling off the bone)
10. Remove the shanks from the sauce
11. Remove the bay leaves and rosemary. Place the casserole back on the stove and bring the sauce to a gentle simmer.
12. Add approximately 2 cups / 500 ml of boiling water or stock and stir in the orzo. Cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add more liquid if needed—the orzo should be creamy rather than dry.
13. Return the shanks to the pot, nestling them into the orzo.
14. Scatter over the feta and fresh basil and finish with the lemon zest and juice. Add the chopped tomatoes if using.
15. Serve straight from the pot with the rich tomato sauce spooned over the tender meat.

Place the pot in the centre of the table and let everyone help themselves.
Serve with plenty of crusty, home-baked bread for soaking up the rich, flavourful sauce.
A hearty family meal, made for sharing and lingering around the table.