Christmas 2008

I've had  fairly quiet day,

and whilst I had a few pieces of writing float up, it was mostly meloncolic stuff, about missing home and being a bit lonesome whilst I travel.

But you know what?

Its Christmas and I just want to celebrate the reason for the season, Jesus Christ.

Thank you God, for loving us so very much that even your son was not spared in your sacrifice.

Thank you Jesus, for your life, your love and your presence.

So dear readers,

Be you cold or warm, cuddled or solitary.

Don't forget to thank God for the blessing of Jesus, the reason for the season.

Grandma

Sitting in her silent cell,

once bright eyes now dulled to a hazel shadow.

Words bounce off those prison walls.

Reflecting guilt and duty back to the speaker.

Excuses do not deny reality.

Of the once proud now captive in the silent world.

A sap am I

I'm travelling the world again, seeing sights to behold and new tastes aquired.

Yet it all feels empty without her...

Some things were meant to be done in pairs.

like backpacking with little black boxes.

Oh I miss the little one.

A love letter

Dear Jesus,

I love you,

thank you for everything you've done.

Its overwhelming to think that you knew every thing I would do.

Every failure and promise I would break to you and to the world.

And yet you still chose to die for me.

Thank you, even though mere words are so easy to type.

Thank you for your life, your love and your presence.

I love you lord.

I've been meaning to write

Here's a few titles I ve been meaning to get down.

I hope I get around to them.

My little Black Box

Communication

Misunderstood desires.

My distant friend

The pedulum swings

Hi folks,

Its been a while since I've written,

I guess its been busy busy just trying to settling down with life in the new city.

Life is certainly busier these days, filled with a busy job and keeping a little doctor girl fed (oh the girl can certainly eat.)

I realized that through the hustle and bustle of it all, I haven't been thinking much about (let alone talking to) the man upstairs.

So with a guilty frown I turn my eyes to heaven and count my many many blessings he has bestowed on me.

Thank you God!

Content

A quiet rush of breathing fills the room as I type this.

It has been a tough time in the recent months, it was worst the last few weeks.

God's led me through it, even when I was too busy to talk to him.

Even in these evening days of this era, and the dawning of the new.

I can't help but feel overwhelmed by all his blessing through it all.

Thank you Lord.

Once were warriors

Once a gunner, always a gunner.

A major and a lieutenant sit at table. Reminiscing about the days gone by.

Anyone would see 2 men sitting down talking in shorts but in each others mindscapes, they wear their number no.1 whites, swords at hip, officers and gentlemen.

They talk about life, of joys and dreams.

The older yearns on the past, of kampong days and the glory of the older generation. The younger tells of his love found and cherished.

Life has changed remarkably for these 2 men. A warrior poet and a writer warrior , now floating in life's eddy and flow.

Life seemed so much simpler through the iron sights of the M16 did they not?

Still, in God's hands and plan, these 2 now meet, the rifle strap replaced with a camera's.

Once were warriors, now are men, walking Gods path.

Dear Lord,

Help us walk strong and be your agents in this world.

Amen.

Randomness

I find myself dressed in my black running singlet, typing on a tiny white laptop.

Roti prata in one hand (on the table of course) and a tiger beer in the other.

The air is humid and warm.

Yes, this is Singapore in all its midnight surburban glory.

~~~

In this time - a random flow of words.

There was a time, perhaps there still is time.

Dreams, ebbs, flows, they all have their moments don't they?

A ribbon of meloncolia flits in the air tonight, perhaps its the tiger talking.

Sometimes we miss the rhythmic thumb of the march. The ridigity of struture.

Others we reach, for the unatainable fluidity only preceived in the freedom of youth.

We petty humans, we mere mortals.

My ways are above yours...

so sayth the lord.

Thank goodness they are...

The Desert

Dear Lord,

I trust you.

I can't see ahead, but I know you are leading.

In you I am a great man.

In you is my future.

You have blessed me so much.

I know you will see me through.

Et Tu?

I've been made to feel like Icarus...

I'm fainting from the blood loss.

Lord help me

In you I trust.

Walking through the mud

It irritates me how weak I am at times.

That in this long a drawn out battle within me, it takes a 30 secs of weakness to pull down what seems like weeks of work.

Am I leaning on my own strength again? Methinks I am.

Guilt and that sense of "mud on me" easily drives a wedge between me and God, between me and grace.

Dear Lord,

I'm sorry.
I know you've given me all the strength and tools I need to overcome.
I know that you love me and I disappoint you each time I fail.
I want to walk in your light, depend on your word.
Help me cast down the old me, to live and walk in you each moment of my life.
Help me get beyond this inner barrier, that I may touch the world beyond for you.

Amen.

Grace... indeed.

Taking ground

Its been a while since I posted.

Truth be told I've been playing with my new toy... but more on that later.

I've been on the bench for my 4th week running now and getting a bit nervous that if they don't get me to a nice project soon that I'd start looking like the proverbial white elephant in the office.

Its my first time that I don't get to look forward to "going home" to Adelaide after a fortnight, indeed, I won't see the little one for a good... month. 

Its not fun.

Amongst all this is the general compression that I've been feeling about living in Melbourne again.

It seems to me that my tone has always been resistant to change, defending my inner world and mindscape against any and all incursions without prejudice.

There are many reasons to back up how I've grown to this state, but perhaps the time will and has now come that I have to begin to allow changes. To accept sometimes constructive (if overly) critical critisms and learn from them.

Impasses and sieges are not fun, and whilst I am completely and throughly sick of being misunderstood, of having EVERY action, decision and inaction questioned, prodded and "improved", I will try to look beyond the sharp words and to the intents instead.

Perhaps in this willow reed approach, the sharp edges of the world will dull somewhat, allowing the border tensions on the edges of my mindscape to ease.

Perhaps the key to being understood (at least down to a relative level) is to simplify.

It is hard, for a man that has (at least in my mindscape) lived in the greyness of subjectivity and revelled in the relativity of life.

Lord help me.

Thats all I can say.

 

Reaching out

Dear Lord,

Thank you for your many blessings in my life.

Thank you that in spite of of the years of luke warmness and general weakness as your son you still love me.

Thank you for the opportunities you have given, to live, to learn, to love.

Forgive me for being impatient, for leaning on my own strength and understanding, For attempting to box your plans for this life you have for me in.

Forgive me for focusing on the gift rather than the giver, for being discouraged and not seeing the forest because the trees were blocking my view.

I love you, with all my heart I want to love you more. to live for you, to trust you and seek you in everything.

Lord, never before has saying things like let thy will be done been so hard. Afterall, in this season, you have indeed granted my deepest dreams and desires.

But lord, I am still your servant, trying to be humble, still the man that said with up lifted hands, here I am, send me

Lord I give you my heart,

I give you my soul.

I live for you alone.

Every breath that I take,

Every moment I'm awake.

Lord have your way in me.

Amen

Nothing to say

This is how I would remember today if I hit the "replay" button in my mind.

I woke up tired and feeling guilty.

I grabbed my camera and took some shots of the tree in the front yard's first flowers.

Jumping on the train in the crisp cold, I had been plagued with guilt that I had yelled at the little one the night before.

I spent the train trip in composing a sorry email in my head.

I walked in the office.

I sent my sorry email.

I worked.

I spoke to her to wake her up, it made me smile.

I worked.

I stopped to eat lunch and didn't feel like going outside.

I looked online at toys that I might buy myself, just that little bit torn on if I should do it.

I got bored of work and had completed most of what I needed to do.

I researched online on said toys.

Time's up, I took the train home.

I got home and said hi to mom.

I went to the gym.

I came home and had dinner.

I sat down and turned my mind off in front of the telly.

I turned the tv off and went upstairs to talk to the little one (The only thing I had been looking fwd to besides clocking the day off and getting closer to the weekend.)

Lord, give me a life over flowing, or let me go back to building that life that I was working on.

Please? 

A clash of humanity...a glimpse of God

We hear a lot these days, on the doctrine of Grace. Indeed at 2 Hillsong conferences past, they've gotten guests speakers to preach it. 

some even take it to the point and make statements like, "the law was old testament, its no longer rel event! This is the age of Grace!"

In response to this we hear many other pastors take to the doctrine of Law, attempting to counter the so called "cheap grace" ideology being raised by the formerly mentioned preachers by calling it a watered down spiel to make the faith more attractive by lowering its standards.

Having attended churches from both camps,  I feel that God has shown me the 2 sides of the issue and also shown me where things should sit.

In Acts 15: 36 -41 we see a mighty clash of what was probably equivalent to Christian celebrities in the early church.

2 heavy weights of the church square off and go at each other like a couple of battleships trading cannon blast, it seems like a terrible example of humanities' failure at playing nice as Paul and Barnabas go on their separate ways.

Or is it?

Whilst we see the argument on the surface, a study group member shared this insightful view.

That in this situation, we see the fullness of God's personality, his overarching plan over us and the combination of the 2 seemingly divisive doctrines that plague the modern church of law and of grace.

Barnabas, the compassionate one as we will call him. Was the instrument chosen by God to introduce a then Saul/Paul to the church. Passionately arguing that God's transforming power in Saul's life into the man that eventually turned to be Paul, we can deduce the heart this man's ministry as one that ex amplifies the forgiveness and grace of God.

Indeed the crux of the falling out in Acts 15 it seems, is the very same scenario, where Barnabas is seen defending one John Mark to a somewhat less accommodating Paul.

Paul on the other hand, has always been a beacon of discipline in the early church, his letters and ministry to bring much needed guidance, rules and sometimes rebuke to the various churches of the day. Taking his ministry to a point, he can be seen rebuking even Peter, one of the original 12 for his 2 mindedness in his treatment of Gentile believers... A set of rules, do and do nuts, does this not seem akin to the Law of old?

So we see painted in concept and doctrine, Grace and Law in a seemingly irreconcilable argument, split off to walk separate paths of ministry...

Or is it? For if w study Acts, we will see that both paths from this fork led to highly successful ministries that resulted in the church of the day growing in numbers  and blessing.

Could it be that  instead of a clash of opposing doctrines, we have just seen a small glimpse that they are but small aspects of a larger whole? Of the multi faceted nature of God? (I think so)

Even Paul himself writes in the book of Romans, that it was the law that defined man kind as sinful, the law that dictated how we are to please god, the law that taught us how we were to co-exist with an infinite being.

Yet it is through the very existence of the law that we discover that we are imperfect and unable to meet the minimum standards that God sets for us.

Enter the need for Grace, which in spite of our human inequities draws God and Man together in the person of Jesus Christ and the Crucifixion.

So who is right? Neither s the obvious answer.

The law is completely necessary as a definition of the standards that God has called us to and that we humanly cannot meet. Grace is the counter point that ensures as that in spite of our human flaws we can still please and be accepted by a holy perfect God.

Grace however is certainly not a license to carry on our lives in our own fatalistic wills, but the acceptance of us in Jesus Christ as we daily strive to put our old selves to death and live in him.

Grace is in fact the fulfillment of law.

A time of reflection

Dear Lord,

as the other half snaps at the chains of time.

I too come into your presence.

Unclean, distracted and once again completly reliant on your grace.

Nothing's ever going to be the same again.

I spoke mere minutes ago.

No, but somethings shouldn't change.

Forgive me lord.

Draw me close to You
Never let me go
I lay it all down again
To hear You say that I'm Your friend

You are my desire
No one else will do
'Cause nothing else could take Your place
To feel the warmth of Your embrace
Help me find the way
Bring me back to You

You're all I want
You're all I've ever needed
You're all I want
Help me know You are near

Time attack

In the world of zoom zoom cars and racer boys,

there is something known as a timed run or as the asian raceboys will call it, a time attack.

The concept is simple, one driver, one car, no opponents execpt the stopwatch.

Its primarily used as a measure of one's own performance, to test to current limits safe or unsafe on the car, to build a driver's confidence in how far he can push himself and the car, to judge where things could be improved, man or tech.

It is never supposed to be a race, except against one's own expectations and the ability to reach them.
~~~

~Time attack ~
~~~

Its a silvery moon lit night in the Adelaide hills, the driver was bored and frustrated. The poor cr hadn't been driven properly in what felt like an eternity.

Jumping in the car, making sure the engine was warm enough, the drive begins.

The sedate purr of the engine used to doing office runs now turns into a growl puncutated by turbo whistles and angry hisses from the blow off valve.

The coilover suspension that caused daily headaches over speedbumps are now doing the work they were designed to do as they push,pull & strain together to pull the heavy sedan through the curves of the winding road.

The driver takes stock of the performance and makes mental notes, the turbo is beginning to lag, perhaps its time to get it rebalanced or replaced. Grip limit on the fronts was somewhat less than expected, not getting these tyres again. The new fog bulbs are working well and improve visibility on the near field edges. etc... etc...

The warm up section of the road had passed and now the driver was in full concentration, blasting through the narrow hill roads, experimenting with gear changes and breaking to enable just that little bit more.

There's no music in the car tonight, just the roaring rumble of road noise and the engine.

The only car on the roads the lone blue volks as it tears into the hills, xenon lamps piercing the darkness.

~~~

Somewhere on that faithful drive from memory, the road from the adelaide hills shifts to an unknown mountain track from the mindscape.

The wide twin laned route suddenly pulses into something narrower, tighter, faster.

The driver and his steed blink in surprise then downshift for more power to climb a rise.

The german engine roars in response.

The cabin is alight in red and blue as the driver listens to the rumbling road, and the engine note, monitoring for changes.

Then he hears something else in the dark night air.

A low thrum, short, sharp gear changes, a deafening roar of another exhuast.

Something powerful.

Sir, we are not alone whispers the blue steed to his master.

There was nothing else on this narrow route, a twin blind then, thinks the driver. 2 roads running independent of each other, leading to the same destination.

This was not a time attack anymore.

The driver pushes thoughts of the phantom car away and concentrates on the road ahead, it was testing him to his limits.

Sharp turns, gravelled surfaces hiding potholed scars, narrow winding bends, the blue car was tuned, but not for this kind of driving.

Rubber pits against bitumen, the engine gasps for air as it burns fuel into power, the heavy blue steed fights its limitations to overcome the obstacles safely.

All the while, the powerful sounds of the phantom car fills the night air, coming from all directions.

The road was getting treachrous now, and the driver knew the car was at it limits, he was at his limits.

The engine warning light flashes as he powers through one last hairy turn,

And finds himself pulling into the outskirts of a beautiful city.

Stopping the car he steps out and looks behind for signs of the phantom racer that had twinned his journey.

No signs...

the twin blind road must have carried it to another direction.

He would never know how close he came to loosing.

Looking around at the sights of the alien city, marvelling at the columns, the buildings and the fountains, he asks himself, does it really matter? I got here didn't I?

Turning to his blue friend he checks for damage,

Sir, I did not fare too well that last leg, I think I hurt something.

It didn't matter to the driver, he had found his new home and there would be plenty of time to refresh, repair and drive on.

scene fades for us as we notice a figure pearched high on another hill top, having watched the entire event unfold, now listening quietly to the fading sounds of the phantom car disappear into the distance as the twin blind road leads away from the city of Rome.

Good Doctrine

It was at a seminar in a apologetics that I heard the phrase:
Good doctrine must exist, if for nothing else because bad doctrine exists and must be clarified

Or something to that effect.

I've struggled for years to work on my daily devotions, to read and meditate on the word and for that 2 way communication that I see others around me have.

Even now I wonder how to go about it, but in my recent times I've noticed that revelations come when I talk about my walk to others.

I came up with a crazy idea, instead of reading the daily breads and what nots that don't work for me.

Why don't I try writing them?

Hey, if nothing else, its a few more bits of writing from me.


~~~

Gideon's Dad ~

I love the story of Gideon's walk.

How a lowly, scared young man from the smallest tribe of a defeated country is called a mighty man of valour as he works in the field.

But lets not talk about Gideon tonight.

Lets look at Judges 6: 27 - 32.

In a nutshell, Gideon obey's the word of the lord and tears down the alter of Baal, incurring the wrath of the townsfolk.

Filled with rage the angry mob descends on Gideon's house, crying out for his blood.

Gideon's dad Joash stands before the blood thirsty crowd and defends his son's actions and thereby ensuring Israel's freedom.

Did we notice that the alter that was torn down belonged to Joash?

Here was a man who had turned from God, set up an idol's alter was probably fairly large (come on, it took 11 men to take the thing down AND the townsfolk noticed immediately that it was gone.

Joash must have been a fairly devoted Baal worshiper too, given the fact that his family was a poor one and the relative size and prominence of said alter.

So, Joash the devoted Baal worshiper is suddenly standing in front of a blood thirsty crowd defending his son?

I like to think that Joash discovered that the alter had been destroyed early, and went to have that long and angry talk with Gideon.

I like to think that on hearing about Gideon's encounter with the Lord he realized the folly of his ways and repented.

I like to picture Joash saying to Gideon, I have sinned against the lord and I will go and appease the townsfolk lest they kill you. I will offer my life to atone my sin so that you my son may be used to glorify God's work and restore our family.

I like to think that after the angry townsfolk leavethat Joash lives a life serving the God of Israel.

But my imagination aside, a devoted baal worshiper in rebellion with God turned into God's instrument overnight.

How awesome is God's grace indeed.

It reminds me of a lyric I heard.

You can do mighty miracles, all you need is my amen

So no matter how far you are from God right now, think of Joash and how his overnight transformation saved Israel, all with the redeeming power of God's Grace.

Show yourself

A vague sense of irritation floats.

A trusted source who has been stunningly accurate has come to me with something out of left field.

Who the heck's heard of the spirit of war and blood?

It sounds like something from Conan or some fantasy novel.

How the heck do you even place a finger on something like that?

How do you fix something that you can't even define.

Point me at the problem lord, I'll fix it with you.

Spirit of blood and war eh?

Ok Lord, lets work on it.

whatever this is, you are mightier than it.

My God is great.

Mike G.

I heard the news late,

It sounded like a confusing situation, a preacher whom had inspired me before, had inspired thousands of others had been exposed as a fraud.

But to fake cancer?

How? Why?

I thought about it and decided to wait until I had heard more details from the church.

The whole truth was even sadder.

A very public example of how a duality lifestyle had woven a web of lies to conceal a festering boil of darkness.

Yet, in this light, the church stood strong.

I saw strong, kind and holy men who had done nothing wrong, humble themselves to public scrutiny. All because they had trusted one of their own, their own family.

I saw the pain in their eyes as they told they world about the fall of their friend, their brother, their son.

I hurt with them.

Yet in the darkness, in their pain, I see the church reach out to the lost, the world so twisted that they barely understood the underlying issue behind the lie of the fall.

I'll pray for them, stand with them, love the sinner and not the sin.

Stand in those shoes, are they not strangely familiar?

Have you not told a lie that got out of hand?

I'll only speak for myself.

But I dare not cast the first stone, people in broken, cracked houses should not do anything but patch things up in their own lives.

I'll pray for you Mike.

The first weekender

Suit was tired,

the current assignment was short deadline, high pressure, long hours.

In hindsight he feels sheepish given doctor girl's daily existence with 12 - 14 hr shifts.

However, it was midnight and he found himself only just walking out of the office.

The only thing keeping him going was that flight at the end of the week.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart lies 800 kms west.

He was tired, but it didn't matter.

He was going home for the weekend.

Soldier watched as the suited man made his way home.

He too remembers waiting in earnest desperation to catch a flight home.

~~~

The flight was pulling in for its final approach.

Like a school boy his heart leaps.

He stares out the window, looking at the gleaming lights of the little city below and trying to place land marks.

Home is where the heart is.

Indeed it is.

A glimpse

The poet yawned as he stretched in his deck chair.

Looking around the little house he flexes his mind.

The floors pulse in change, flitting between polished floor boards to warm cream carpets to marble tiles before settling back to the warm timber of the floor boards.

Casting his eyes around the room, the decor changes, chairs, tables, sofas all flicker in and out of existence as his mind races through the the possibilities, the choices & compromises.

The scene fades for us as our view point pulls out, revealing even the nature of the house shifting as a poet dreams, plans, builds a home.

White ribbon

Ever seen a belly dancer?



~A memory~


A smile ghosted on my lips as I was shown a beautiful white ribbon.

The dancer floated in front of me, wisping, twirling and wafting the alabaster stream.

The gaze pierces through the cloudy veil, ensnaring my senses, inviting, promising enticing.

I try to grasp the mist like cloth as it traced its erratic path, but its like the wind it eludes my touch.

My futile efforts are rewarded by the echo of a smile as the twists and turns take over.

The dance was near its end when a stray breeze catches the thin white ribbon and somehow snaps it on its edge.

Like a broken dove it tumbles to the floor as the dancer makes a final turn.

I am captivated by the beauty of it all.

So today as I walked past some shops at lunch time, this little memory found me asking the sales person behind the counter.

Excuse me, would you happen to have a white ribbon for sale?

Powering on

I walked into my office on a Friday morning expecting just a lazy day of sitting on the bench.

Instead I was called into the senior partner's office 2 mins into my breakfast.

Kevin we need you to head down to a client's side, your team leader's project has gone south and we need you to go down and see what you can do to fix it.

Oh wow, I had only just met my team leader the day before, a tired old timer who had been doing what we did for about 27 years with IBM. If he stuffed up a project what could I possibly do?

Who's the customer I asked?

They told me ... it was one of the world's biggest consulting firms and the secondary client was a multinational.

Could I be any more out of my depth?

~~~

20 mins later I'm walking through the doors of one of those high flying offices, shaking hands and acting all consultant like.

I cool access the situation all the while sweating inside my collar. They tell me you're an expert on steering committee documentation nope, I've never even heard of a steering committee before this.

Sure, I heard myself say, I'll go dig up some situational information and I"ll get right on it.

Then I walked in to say hi to my colleagues for the next few days, or were they my staff?

3 days on and I'm finally gaining ground on the work.

I might make it through this after all...

Waiting

I've been at this new job for 4 days now, just chilling out, reading procedure documents, surfing the net and attending training courses.

They call it "the bench", where staff go to rest between the hardcore projects the company runs.

So they make it nice a comfy, there's free drinks, a room running the olympics all the time and even relatively flexible hours.

It makes life seem artificially soft for now, whilst I wait for them to assign me to a project of my own.

I see tired faces drift into the office and then out again,

I hear mutters like, oh well, weekend work for Telstra again.

For me? I get into the office, have breakfast, flip open a document and read. I pick up the phone and buzz the lady in Adelaide, organize flights for her. I go for walks in the city at lunch time, enjoying the rare sun beams that grace Melbourne in winter.

I stroll out at 5ish, feeling just a little tired but unstressed.

Geez I hope this doesn't end... oh wait, I do. I hope they send me to Adelaide.

Unleashed... aka I love her

First and foremost,

Thank you Lord. For this amazing woman.

Secondly,

Have you seen her post Convergence? Its so free, so unfettered, her honest writing makes me realize that I've been restrained.

So I love her dearly.

Here we go.

~~~

I found her pretty, I found her photographer's eye captivating. I found her gypsy like dress sense interesting.

Her icy surface was so intimidating I almost silenced that little voice inside that said, tell her a story, spin her a tale

Something in her eyes when I looked up from that first tale said tell me more. That first real conversation, when I asked my bold question, that soft voice said I would like that very much.

From then on the journey seemed like I was hammering away at the walls hoping just to find that beautiful girl that spoke to me.

I knew inside I would have to serve her, that she would always treat me with a certain coldness.

The more walls I tore down, the more she unfolded and the more I fell.

She saw and understood my brokenness.

I told her about my performances for the audience of one and how they burn.

I shared of my colors and she encourage my writing.

With each new facet she showed me, my once still heart pulsed a bit more.

Men like me do not get happily ever afters.

Men like me don't get the girl.

Women like that, don't talk to men like me.

Those words began to slowly fade as hope grew.

I had always believed in love, a hopeless romantic like me could not live without believe it existed. I just told myself that it wasn't meant for me, and each day my heart grew a little colder, and my world a little darker.

She drew me out, make me believe again even as I worked to get past her walls.

Each time I was discouraged, her gaze said, don't go, please don't leave me.


In her eyes, I am capable and strong

In her eyes, I am precious and valuable.

In her eyes, I am a mighty man of God.

And when I am with her, I'm not the man that almost is, I am that man she sees, because with all her little heart she believes in me.

I have never been so vulnerable and so strong at the same time.

I love her, with all my heart I love her.

Like I have loved no other before.

I love my lemon princess and I want the world to know.

A new season... a new page turns

Its finally here.

I've settled back into Melbourne, into my old room, into the old house.

Everything's the same, yet everything's different.

I long to be on a 13 hr bus ride away, in another room, another world.

Why does this feel like a pause?

No matter... mutters a voice in my head callings, tasks to do, mysterious ways and paths. Has God not blessed you abundantly? Yes he has. And so I shall obey and learn to do it with a cheerful heart and as King David did.

Marathon's are won by pace, not speed.

And from the numbers clinking around in my head, perhaps sometime to save up is what is necessary.

So on monday, I begin my life as a management consultant.
The long hard yard and daily commute to the city.

Pray for me friends, its time to be strong again.

New starts

Its a bustling day in the city of the empire.

The citizens are busying themselves in the winter sun,

the market is stirring with life and commerce.

The fishing boats are pulling into the docks and being unloaded.

Life is awakening in the city.

In a quiet corner of the city, a little section teems with life.

Dark deals are made and coins are exchanged, taverns crawl with characters both colorful and dark.

Every city has a corner like this for the denizens of the night.

Most operate openly, plying their trades with authority and anti-authority alike. Some operate in the shadows, in that world between darkness and compromise.

Everyone would agree, that every city NEEDS a corner like this.

The centurion eyes the section of the city, then with a sharp movement, signals the men.

The legions march at the signal, sealing the streets and isolating the thief's quarter.

The patrons and traders caught in the blockade yell in loud voices in protest to the sudden embargo on their (secretly) favorite part of town.

The centurion looks upon all this and mutters his orders.

burn it all down

then turns his back on the sounds of drawing swords as the slaughter begins...

Fall'in

It has been an amazing journey, and the road ahead leads to paths and places even more fantastic and wonderful.

In this last season I have been drawn near and pushed away, encouraged and torn down, appreciated and taken for granted.

I have grown closer to God and learned that indeed nothing is impossible for him.

It has been a tough fight on both sides of the fence, but I'm glad and proud to say that we've broken through.

So dear readers, with much pride, joy and all kinds of warm fuzziness I introduce you to my beloved partner Lady Lemon.

One Shot

One shot

A long long time ago, an older and seemingly wiser man told of the sniper core to an ignorant boy.

“They get a single bullet for their target” explained the know it all.

“One shot, and then hit or miss, they pack up and leave”

Years later, that boy grew into a soldier himself, and now its far more complex then that simple picture of a single bullet and single trigger pull to be a sniper.
Yet, in some things, the analogy still rings true.

~~~

The soldier prones on his lofty perch, he’d been here for a long time now.

Watching, listening, waiting for the perfect shot.

More than once he thought the target lost, yet he stayed on, a silent mix of
determination and desperation.

He reaches into a neck pouch and fishes out a single 7.62mm round...

Studying the grain of the metal jacket, the crimp of the outershell to the projectile core, he hums softly as he as wipes the pointed object.

Satisfied the round is clean he gingerly loads it into the breach of his single blot action rifle and slams it shut with a well practised movement.

Laying down in the prone position and brings his eye to the scope once more to make sure its still calibrated.

The solider eyes the terrain through the multi tiered cross hairs of the scope, consciously slowing his breathing to a steady rhythm, in doing so creating the steady tidal movement of the rifle barrel.

Rise...fall....rise...fall...rise...fall.

Flexing muscles in his legs, stomach, shoulders and arms in a different syncopation he fights the body’s natural fast twitch reflexes with endurance and willpower.

Trigger finger completely tensed, yet completely relaxed, sitting on the outside of the trigger guard, he knows he is ready.

Counting the heart beats he waits for an unknown signal.

One bullet, one shot, one chance.

What the...?

So many images.

So many scenes.

Fragments spinning.

Guide my path lord.

Surely the Lord will save me,

have I not been a righteous man?

haven't I?

I've Landed

A lot has happened in the last few days.

I want so much to write everything, to sing, to dance, to fly back.

I think I'll break it up into a few little pieces, until I get my title.

~~~

Freedom

~

I flick my wrist and punch the accelerator.

The pressure builds in the turbo with a whistle and German Bob surges forward.

The landscape changes, golden crops to green fields to pencil rows forests.

Here? whispers a sweet voice...with a smile I pull the car over to the side of the road.

Watching the other dance, lost in moments of captured light and shadows bent, I realize I'm completely content.

I had never had a holiday like this, I was almost lost in the middle of nowhere, behind schedule for the next checkpoint, standing in the middle of a pine forest doing pretty much nothing.

And there was nothing else in the world I would rather have had been doing.

The dance had finished and my gaze is finally noticed, silly smile is met and I climb back into the car and start the engine.

Like the overused imagery, of an old american pickup cruising down the endless highway, a blue vw tears into the long straight road.

To infinity and beyond.

~~~

Sunrise

~

Lift off.

Dear friends and readers,

As I write this, I leave Adelaide.

Words fail me in this moment as my heart is heavy with emotion.

I have fallen in love with this place, these people and indeed this church.

I walk forward, out of my comfort zone, to be salt and light to the world.

Dear Lord,

Use my tiny seed.

For you I fly.

In you I trust.

Amen.

Potaytoe, potahto, tomayto, tomahto

Twas supposed to be a short call,

a how was your day, fare thee well, have a good day at work call.

As per usual habit, 5 mins more can turn into a something else completely, not that anyone minds I guess.

Then mid call, a terminolgy mix up sees me stumble into a darkish soliloquey of almost epic chidedness / erg ness. A gaping hole opens in my chest and somewhere at the back of my mind a few of the guys are doing their own version of the spanish bull run.

Confusion on the other end of the digital cans, transforms into a simple statement which makes me pull of the old combat boots and dine on them. "Erm, thats not quite what I meant...

Of course the ensuing explination of definitions turns this writer quite sheepish... and almost on cue a large dappish grey fox stalks past the window.

Then something unexpected happens at the end of the somewhat patient reply to my little rant.

I'm told and reminded of a little statement methinks youve just won another battle...

My mind snaps up a recursive thread of similar utterings and talks,
a pattern forms. And a new angle to the entire situation presents itself.

Counter-balanced between a guarded suit and contact lensed eyes, between instability and insecurity, lies a blue ball, a lemon and a speck of green.

Just as instability is a private battle, so does insecurity need to be fought.

So, with song, blade, words, colour and dance, I will engage this new foe.

Run, spirit of doubt, of fear and of old wounds. Something holy this way comes.

Roma Vincit Omnia.

A desert song.

I was reading a friend's blog, talking about how God had gifted her a song.

As I clicked on the link to hear it my spirit had a little jump.

Almost like it was saying you too.

Its an awesome song, it speaks of faith, of power and love of the father.

Its almost scary.

When God gives you something like that, you wonder and worry if the many blessings he's given you (and I've been amazing and abundantly blessed lately) will be taken away for some test of the refiners fire.

Fear denies faith someone inside mutters.

God,

I'm with you, lets walk.

Amen.

Desert Song
~~~
This is my prayer in the desert
When all that’s within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is the God who provides

This is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flame

I will bring praise, I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice, I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

This is my prayer in the battle
When triumph is still on its way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on His promise I’ll stand

All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favour and providence flow
I know I’m filled to be emptied again
The seed I’ve received I will sow

An amazing day.

This morning I woke up and the following things happened.

1) The moving men came and took all my things away.
2) Canceled my long awaited massage appointment
3) Installed a usb tv stick unto a laptop
4) Explained myself to the housemate
5) Cleaned THE ABSOLUTELY DIRTIEST microwave I had ever seen
6) Had lunch at a restaurant I had been waiting months to try (it wasn't bad at all)
7) Went for a walk whilst waiting for errands to be completed
8) Went to catch an arthouse movie
9) Had an unexpected shopping trip
10) Caught up with friends for post dinner coffee
11) Went to bed

It was the most mundane and normal day.

It was the most amazing day

Words cannot describe.

Technically unemployed

Yes folks,

After a series of handshakes and signing a bunch of confidentiality forms I moved on from my job.

Its been a cool year, I'll miss being able to legitimately say at parties that I build boats.

Its 5.30 am and I've just completed my packing,

15 boxes and 4 misc items. That's pretty much everything I have that makes a house a home.

Well, I've been blessed, I can't complain.

Everyone tells me that I've been paying a pittance in rent for a fully furnished place so close to my office.

As the pages turn and sand drops through the hr glass, my time in Adelaide grows short.

I've been allowing the focus of the upcoming trip back distract me, because there's a heck of a lot more faith required for the time beyond that.

You don't understand... a pre-rant

I'm writing this as a reminder and to get it out of my system.

Think of this as a yard stick I'm placing to which I'll return in the near future to measure things.

Dear Lord, I pray I'm wrong about all of this.

Help me be the man that you want me to be.

Help me fix this.

Help me be a peacemaker.

Help me fly.

Amen
~~~

You don't understand.

~~~

All I've been hearing the last few weeks is

You have too many things.

Where are we going to put that.

its not as simple as that.

I KNOW (the better than you part is left unsaid).

~~~

These things are better started with... With all due respect.

tis like a liability shield of sorts no?

but anyhow

With all due respect.

It was hard to break free of the gravity of being Asian, of the oldest son, of the multilayered guilt trip(s).

It may have been lonely and dark at times in Adelaide, but it was my life. Imperfect but hand forged.

I don't need repeated pressure telling me how buying houses is a good idea. I know as well as you the way the market looks. I don't need the additional burden of having to live your dreams and disappiontments as well as mine.

I don't appreciate the double edged advice followed by the stings of telling me I'm not good enough.

Its insulting enough that you have no idea what I do at work nor show little interest in finding out.

Or do we have to watch Amazing medical stories again?

Are the dark whispers in my head true? That you think I've somehow conned my way into my jobs for the last few years?

I think I've done well in my career. I thank God for the opportunities he's given me and where he's taking me.

In many aspects I've caught up and overtaken many of my high school comrades. Or have you forgotten I spent the first 2.5 years of my career with conscript pay?

You don't understand how it feels, to arrive to adelaide with 22 boxes and to somehow fit my newly forged life into 15 and pack it back to Melbourne.

You don't understand how much I fear getting crammed into who I was and limited by who you will let me be.

You don't understand that sometimes I need to write, to sing, to see colours, to be left alone, to hear not suggestions for improvements but encouragement.

Don't try to teach me how to make it. Tell me I can and make me believe it. I'll ask if I need help.

Stop seeing me as the man that almost isn't.

Help believe I'm the man that I could be.

Learn to just HOLD YOUR TONGUE.

~~~~

Don't worry friends,

I wrote that with the intention of it being strong.

Its a yard stick.

I hope I'm wrong.

Just keep me in your prayers.

Let me know you're around and still behind me.

The good lord walks with me, and I will not let the colours fade.

2 left feet.

I could not resist and threw my head back in laughter (as much as one can throw their head back when its already on a pillow).

At the awkardness of the conversation and the muchness of tip toeing.

Not a question of articulation on either side of the line but rather a strange case of "desire of presence vs lack of topic" , the simple fact that neither could find an appropriate rhythm and mostly in part due to the tiredness of everyone.

Even as I reflect on the issue another quiet voice in my mind turns my attention to a scene.

On a sweeping hill top the voice takes me, to view from high a huge city awaking from its morning slumber.

It looks like a typical monday.

The majestic walls of grand palaces rise to the skies, the bustle of the markets noisy as the folk trade and barter.

Livestock is driven through narrow alleyways even as the chaos of the merchent sector fires the economy of the city with the clanking of coins and the rising of fists and palms.

My eyes survey this scene, noting darker aspects of the city in juxtaposition with the beauty of the grand.

And the little voice says, Ah, and so you see, it is the everydays that build an empire. And every aspect is precious. For what would a city be, if it was all castles and palaces?

So I nod my head in agreement, and send a silent apology to the lemon that sits on my desk.

A dark suit roars

Polo T ponders for a moment then tosses Suit the silver pen.

The other snatches it from the the air and immediatly begins the weave...

Looking back over his shoulder as he walks away, Polo T sighs.

~~~


Suit's Rant
~~~~~~~~~~~

Its the last week of my time in this job.

In this last year I've beaten and forged into shape well over 100 million dollars of plans and budgets. I've been here late nights and weekends, on the promise that this would help me fly to higher heights.

yet on this my final week with mere days left to go, I still feel like a number.

I cast my mind back to a year ago, on my final days at the hive.

Ahhhh, my final days buzzed.

Colleagues would come knocking on my office "door" and wish me well. The juniors would come to me seeking final bits of advice and information from takign over my projects.

There was a minor fanfair as the secutaries decided on a parting gift for me.
My bosses and mentors would pat me on the back and tell me I was goign to be sorely missed.

On my final day my dpt gathered and brought me down to the local. Speeches were made, spinning a tale of my time there.

I was the fix it Project manager, the one that worked strange hours but could get it done. The incidental procurement expert, that seemed to weave my magic across almost everyone's project and made things appear on time.

They listed all my achievements and thanked me for them all.

I left sad, because I felt like i had made a difference, like I belonged.

In the weeks following my departure, I was still fielding calls on my projects. So far reaching was my handiwork that my consultation was still required to make things work. And my ex-colleagues, now friends, still contact me from time to time to discuss things and I like wise go to them for advice when a learned chat is required.

This time around. I had a 20 min mind dump to my senior. I've gathered from the grapevine that I've already been replaced and he arrives in 2 weeks. No one had the courtesy to let me know. My team will have grudgingly cleared an afternoon to eat a quick lunch to send me on my way before they wipe my desk down for the next number cruncher and hand him the last year of my work life.

I doubt they will contact me once I leave the building

I know am usually a proud man, and that in many ways this is not a good thing.

But this time, I feel chided.

I am Carravaggio, a project manager of considerable skill and a problem fixer across multiple engineering disciplines.

I've dulled my strategic mind and let myself become a number.

No longer.

On thursday I leave this place and spread my wings once more.

Contentment

The sun shining,

the crowd bustling.

Colors bright and dull flash as cars zoom by.

A sunny winter's day in Adelaide.

A man lounges at a pub off main st.

Legs swung up on a bench, beer in one hand, book in another.

He's smiling.

The waitress brings his steak and smiles an inviting smile.

He digs into his meal as the pages are flipped.

A dance recital starts in the back ground.

A message arrives on the phone and a Yellow Bubble buzzes with life.

Its a sunny winter's day in Adelaide.

And a man sits at a pub, smiling from his very soul.

God is able...

Its been a tough week.

but I'm smiling now.

The devil tried to crush me.

but I'm smiling now.

My house is in shambles, and I gave my pets away.

but I'm smiling now.

The devil attacked my friends in so many ways

but they're smiling now.

And from the middle of nowhere,

I get given an awesome word.

Even though I've slipped up.

Even though I'm not perfect.

God is able and he won't fail.

Isaiah 62:2-7 (The message translation)
Foreign countries will see your righteousness,and world leaders your glory.
You'll get a brand-new name straight from the mouth of God.
You'll be a stunning crown in the palm of God's hand,
a jeweled gold cup held high in the hand of your God.
No more will anyone call you Rejected,
and your country will no more be called Ruined.
You'll be called Hephzibah (My Delight),and your land Beulah (Married),
Because God delights in you and your land will be like a wedding celebration. For as a young man marries his virgin bride, so your builder marries you,
And as a bridegroom is happy in his bride, so your God is happy with you.

I've posted watchmen on your walls, Jerusalem.
Day and night they keep at it, praying, calling out,
reminding God to remember.
They are to give him no peace until he does what he said,
until he makes Jerusalem famous as the City of Praise.

This long and winding road

Sleep eludes me.

A tempest rages within and even the words are fragments tonight.

~

Words from the broken mirror

Goodness meets resistance.

The devil knows where to hit you.

He's very good at what he does.

I love my Jesus

I failed him too much to fail again.

I'll keep singing in the storm.

I'll not be a Sunny sunday christain.

There is a plan, I have to believe it.

a mustard seed of faith, is all I'm asked for.

I'm furious at my weakness.

But I'll not let the enemy win.

Tomorrow I'm going to ring the man from that shop and ask him to come to church.

and then I'm going to ring Roy and mention the church.

He that is within me is greater than he who is in the world.

You picked on the wrong lame christian buddy.

Fury

I'm tired.

Too tired for stories and imagery.

I had a dark moment today and the grace of God's seen me through it.

Right now I'm trying to cage more than once voice in my head.

The same old whispers are now shouts.

I feel so utterly powerless. So completely stupid. And thus so.... furious at myself.

Lord help me.

You are my portion, I need you here with me now.

Let your presence never depart from me.

Snapping out of it

I put the phone down, knowing that solitude was what was required.

Then I resume the song and quiet conversation.

At the end of what feels like a soliloquy, I start the engine and blasted to the nearest auto parts shop.

Life goes on and there were things to be done.

30 mins later with blackened hands ($70 bucks for wiper blades? I think not VW!) I had retrofitted new blades onto the windscreen and was completely and throughly distracted from my petty problems.

I remember a good sermon by Bishop Joe Garlington.

When you're unto something good, the devil's gonna resist you!

And even a 3 second review of the last few weeks, months. i've been so blessed.

And even now as I reconnect with God and begin to sing, speak and shine to the world, is there any doubt there will be resistance?

All it takes is faith of a mustard seed, and he can move my mountains.

All it takes is a single word and stormy seas clam.

Hear me you fiendish schemes and traps of grey confusion.

Hear me darkness and fear within.

I may be weak, I may be tired.

But he that is within me is greater.

You shall not overcome.


~~~

A side note.

A friend commented on my recent change of tone on my blog.

Its gotten "preachy" it seems.

I'll answer you here.

I'm climbing a mountain.

Its not easy, it gets lonely and believe me i'm tired and confused.

I do not expect you to understand.

You've always been a little... stubborn when it comes to expanding your piont of view to see it from mine.

Speaking Jesus gives me strength. Seeing his work in my life fuels my faith.

Without faith, without hope, what is the point of it all?

If you knew my Jesus, seen the things he's done for me.

Perhaps you'll see, that in the recent months in Adelaide... perhaps I've awoken.

Packing... Moving... Sigh...

My house is in shambles.

There are boxes everywhere and all my stuff is in a state of flux.

Sound system's snug in its box, the books are stacked and even the birdies look ready to leave.

Perhaps one of the hardest things to do was to begin closing my beloved kitchen and start packing all my toys away.

Is this what its all come down to?

And deep down, it isn't really about all the stuff, toys and trinkets.

I've worked hard to plant my flag and raise it high.

its so hard to risk it all.

Will they remember me?

Carrava-who?

Will she?

Yes friends, I'm feeling just a little blue today.

Coz if there's one thing I fear more than the grey of the mundane

its the darkfall of the uncertain flight.

~~~

100 paces

Mood Music first.


100 paces
~~~

The knight stares into the eyes of his ward as mouths move and words are spoken.

Gazing into the hazel windows, he seeks... and finds the shifting shadows below the clam surface.

May I follow? he probes as she turns to leave.

A long drawn out pause...

"Come along if you must..." says her mouth. "...But keep your distance" flashes the shadows in her eyes

Without looking back she strides into the moonless night.

Watching the demure form depart, he stands and begins to count the steps. 1..2..

Each step echoing into the night, he counts. 50...51

he wonders then what he can do, at such a distance, should anything befall 80...81

99 ...100

He takes his first stride to follow the figure in the distance, the answer already obvious in his mind.

Everything possible...

I am a strong.. confident man... I think

Its Kheng's birthday.

I haven't seen him in... wow has it been 4 years?

Say what you like about my uni days and Kheng.

But being his friend taught me a lot in those days.

Both in good and bad ways of the world, lessons in life from an older friend

How to appreciate a fine scotch.

How to just take it easy (oh i've learnt that lesson well)

To be hospitable and to open up my home.

Basically to be friendlier, nicer and more giving.

Happy birthday bro.

I hope we'll catch up soon

Headspace

its 5am and the alarm rings.

With a well practiced movement I silence the buzzing annoyance.

Hitting the buttons I'm answered by an equally sleep filled voice.

Morning...OH NO I GOTTA PACK!

Thus begins my week.

~~~

This week I will begin my packing.

The reducing of bulk and packing of one man's life into little boxes.

This task I need to do in solitude.

This task I've put off and avoided for so many weeks.

A good day in Solitude

I flexed my aching back as I made the call.

"we have a cancellation today, its your lucky day."

3 emails later I was out of there.

The high from the night before, a sunny day, a pocket of loose change, a day's work done in mere hrs.

It was certainly panning out to be a good day.

the phone rings with a cheery buzz.

Then it turned into a great day.

With the awesome news still buzzing in my ears, the goodness of the day was just getting started.

Tell you about it in a bit.

I'm still chilling from it. :)

Dusting it off

Opening up the cupboard at lunch time, I reach into a hardly disturbed region of my stuff.

I withdraw the items one by one and begin donning them.

Thermals, running shorts, my long sleeved running tee.

Long unused muscles are streched as a new playlist is created on the running ipod - today's poison, Russian Trance.

I enjoy this ritualistic part of my runs.

Donning the "i don't care how I look my head is warm beanie", the play button is hit and i set off.


pace, pace , pace ,pace

The wind pushing past my face awakens memories of a hundred other runs that started like this.

And the mind runs through its mental list of checks.

Its not promising.

Core stability - Gone
Stride width - Reduced
Breathing pattern - messy
cold resistance - terrible
knees, joints and old injuries - stiff as wooden planks.

and so on.

I feel like a classic car that's been sitting in a garage rusting away.

pace, pace, pace

No matter, its just for fun today no?

pace, pace, pace

Just for fun, I throw my head back and roar like in the old days.

Ah, it feels amazing to feel like that young lion again... well that fat lion anyway these days.

pace, pace , stride

Almost the 1k mark and it feels like i've done 10.

I allow myself to see phantoms of my old running mates passing me by and smile.

Fatty, my OCS mates, my men, her.

My goodness, we weren't we a pride of lions back then?

dark, lean machines.

How times have changed.

Stride, Stride, stride

About 2 kms now, the old 2nd wind feeling that used to come at 10-12 ks has cycled up.

An old favourite of bass and electronica thudners in my ears, and i match the beats with my steps... or at least try to.

2.5 ks now?

Another Roar for the heck of it. Smiles all around as I remember the freedom of the run.

Steal a glance at the watch... Shock! I used to be at 5ks at this point!

The mind flashes a warning,

the old stitch has flared up again, running across the right set of abs.
the cold air is taking its toll and I can feel the breath getting sluggish.

Ah, I never did aclimatise well to running in the cold.

With both relief and regret I slow down and begin the cool down walk.

Yes, I have changed much since those days indeed.

Quickening

Precursor: Done

The mindscape groans with a familiar chaos.

Life begins to compress and all things quicken as the life begins to change, fold and prepares to jump.

The landscape rumbles as things begin to accelerate and on that cliff face a strange scene unfolds.

A man in a suit duels another in a black beret, gleaming blades rise and fall as the brothers pit memories against dreams and woven song matches steel cold logic.

A soldier watches the strange battle with concerned curiosity then turns to focus what little strength remains on the shifting mindscape, only to realize he is not alone.

Another steps into the light, nondescript in jeans, blue polo shirt and a cabby hat.

Tough time to be on watch alone.

"What's it to you Polo T?"

The new comer looks over the soldier's shoulder at the ongoing duel, the Poet had pressed the Suit unto the defensive and looked to be beating down on the other with a vengeance, then looking at the soldier in the eye.

Lets just say I'm here to help.

"So what do we do?"

We pray. And then we wait

Polo T joins his new comrade on the hill for the vigil, and bows his head in silent prayer.

~~~

On that same dusty table in the cafe at the crossroads, a waiter walks past and then pauses to notice.

Where once 3 bands lay, now he finds a forth.

Picking up the new item he studies the interlocked rings.

Then with a shrug puts it back down as he moves on to polish the bar.

On the radio tonight.

My arm's on fire again.

My mind's gone wandering and the fragments are sharp tonight.

I've been fragile of late.

But I've been relying on him.

He says nothing solid as is his way with me in times of transition like I'm in now.

The other day (see my post: compressed)

For whatever reason, it felt (and still does somewhat) that even the maze of my mind and my own writings are ebbing.

So, in desperation, I've pulled on something unexpected.

I sang, in my car I sang, old hymns that I grew up with.

Then I pleaded and prayed and suddenly his presence was with me.

That was that day.

I've had other moments of fragmentation since then, but I've sung my way into his presence time after time.

One verse of as the deer and suddenly he's right there behind me.

Thank you lord.

~~~
Psalm 73

21 When my heart was grieved
and my spirit embittered,

22 I was senseless and ignorant;
I was a brute beast before you.

23 Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.

24 You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.

25 Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

26 My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

A story!

Here's a spot of mood music first.




We got so hammered the night before.

Fatboy was upset about... ah bugger I can't even remember which one or what reason.

We drank the entire night, I stopped at about 3 fights and chased fatty around Jln Sultan so he wouldn't jump into the river...

At about 5 in the morning we crawled into our rooms...

and woke up 2 hrs later a still very drunk fatboy was shaking me awake and slurring...

"Eh! We have go now... we volunteered remember?"

No I didn't, I was drunk from matching shot for shot with my friend. I was tired from stopping fights and chasing him from killing himself...

"Its for the kids man, we need to go now!"


Fatty drove like Schumacher to the school, I'm so glad I wasn't coherent...

we had discussed it weeks ago.

All he mentioned was we had to help out at some disabled kids school, so I signed on.

We got there late, and the fun fair was in full swing.

I remember vague things about the day.

We chased each other around... there was a big incident involving a velcro suit, a jumping castle and being stuck upside down on the sticky wall, hell we walked funny everywhere (being drunk and all) *chuckle*

The kids loved us.

They rang us the year after that hoping to book the funny clowns again.

We'll go back one day.

Taking a holiday

Ok, as part of my several day long break of space and chilling I've decided to look into the past for a bit and just enjoy the walk down memory lane.

Enjoy.


A boy and his dog



Chibi and I staring down a hole



Attempting to discern if the hole likes slap stick humour



Jumping in fear!

Racer Boy!



Ah, the glorious brief days that I had my very own racing car!

Exhaustion

I'm tired and drained in almost every way I can define.

I need a break.

I think i'm just going to chill for the next few days.

Here's some James Taylor, it always helps me relax.

WOW recap

Its been a huge huge huge huge week.

so much has happened.

I'm goign to do one of those lists that even i hate reading.

I'll try give each its due story in time.

Monday -

barossa with mom, chatting like friends, its something that hasn't happened in a while

Tuesday -

27! Hurrah! Celebrations followed by inspection followed by unknown bravery and beginning of things

Wed -

An excuse made, grace given... 5 min more?

Thurs -

Dinner, movie, msn. what more could a man ask for?

Fri -

Friends over, followship and love!

Sat -

House inspection, the death of a pet (good bye Jane Finch... :( ...), Advice from the little shepherd, Scones & Jimmy Barnes.

Sun -

ups, downs, swings and round abouts

This has possibly been the HUGEST week of my life!

Praise God!

Orange

Orange!

From the word shuffled REorg

from the shortened Reorganize.

Its something we'd shout as we pulled back to regroup from or against an attack.

Its neither good nor bad strategy to call for orange.

Every junior field commander has to learn when stop and take measure of the situation.

For you learn never to spread your forces too thin, nor do you press the enemy too hard when their backs are against the wall, cornered men fight like tigers see?

Awakened by circumstances this morn,I've measured the last 4 days.

Weighing each moment for the precious and priceless jewel that I've been given.

I am a blessed and wealthy man indeed.

Time grows short, and instinctively I reach for the phone thinking to stock up more of this wealth.

Then I remember the concept of Orange.

Unfair it would be, to continue the assault of my droning monotone mumble.

Today, today shall be orange day

A random bit of imagery

Just a shiny fragment i came across, as I sat correcting costing calcs and codes.




Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out on to Grey Street

She thinks, “Hey,
How did I come to this?
I dream myself a thousand times around the world,
But I can’t get out of this place”

There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart

How she wishes it was different
She prays to God most every night
And though she swears it doesn’t listen
There’s still a hope in her it might

She says, “I pray
But they fall on deaf ears,
Am I supposed to take it on myself?
To get out of this place”

There’s loneliness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It feels like cold blue ice in her heart
When all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart

There’s a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It’d take the work out of the courage

But she says, “Please
There’s a crazy man that’s creeping outside my door,
I live on the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world”

There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together - to grey
And it breaks her heart
It breaks her heart
To grey


~

Content

Lots of things to write about

Lots of things to say.

But all there is to feel right now.

is contentment

Swamped

Its one of those days.

Where everything just seems, that little bit harder.

Project managers juggle, thats what we do.

Yet this morning its just been... tougher.

Its not the work load, its not anything I can place my finger on.

Except perhaps... flaming darts?

For the first time in ages, I prayed for his peace and just his presence.

Goodness, I begged for it.

then like an invisible threshold was crossed, I began to gain back ground.

Get thee behind me satan.

This is the day the lord has made, and i'll be damned if you'll ruin it.

Dreadfully afraid

Deer in a spot light.

Thats how I feel.

I don't think I've been this honest in a while.

Then again, it takes either a fool or a brave man to attempt to catch the wind.

I've discovered those things are not mutually exclusive.

Don't get me wrong.

I'm ecstatic, I can't stop smiling, I can't stop breaking into song.

But is this how Icarus felt?

Imagery.

A young boy throwing stones into a river.

A nervous soldier hefts a thin rapier, and waits for the mob.

A kite flutters in a breeze, a gale, a storm.

Yet I would have it no other way.

Perhaps better this, then to be that king in his castle.

For in this moment, I learn to soar.

Guilt

Bo Grosso tells me I'm a bit of a bastard.

Sometimes I tend to agree.

Tonight is one of them.

I am sincerely sorry Jata.

A song without a tune

Spirit Song

Lord of hosts, king of kings,

You are holy beyond compare.

Rightousness, holiness,

How awesome is your name.

In all things I put my trust in you.

With thanks giving I give my voice to you.

Spirit within me rise and give praise,

for worthy is my lord.


In blazing words your splendor is revealed,

and all my woes reduce to ash.

In reverent song I lift my eyes.

to cry on the only name that is worth praising.

In all of my days I will serve you,

with all of my heart I praise your holy name.

I adore you.

With all voice, I will sing,

with all my strength, I will dance.

For in your presence, I am free.

Be ever with me, Lord I pray.

and this to you my song I sing.

~~~~

An unexpected song...

Everything is the same, but everything is different

Eyes scan the floor avioding eye contact.

do it! shouts a voice from the back of the mindscape.

"Erm... so...." a question is sent like an arrow into the night.

Shields are braced and troops wait for an impact...

that never arrives.

Conversation is defribulated and it edges on.

one more shot? whispers the voice again.

A pause to consider, to weigh and to ponder.

another arrow is released.... silence...

then the response arrives.

And the world explodes in white.

27

I have nothing profound to say.

No words of wisdom

No Stories bitter sweet

No clever introspections

Nor impressionist visions.

All I will do, standing on this ledge and watching tomorrow come,

is count my many many blessings.

And praise my awesome God.

God of Abraham, Moses and Israel.

May my days be full of worship to you.

Amen

Lol! So cute!

Worship

Elohim, YHWH, Yahweh, Adonai, Yehovah.

The ancient names carry power, wisdom and authority.

They conjure up images of pillars of fire, of power so unimaginably huge that it almost seems it belongs in some fantasy novel.

Here's another name, Jesus.

Doesn't seem so daunting does it?

Does it?

People throw it around common place these days, use it like a profanity.

To me, that name is about a power so vast that in ancient times they dared not even speak its name aloud, being poured into a vessel fragile as glass.

How can we possibly comprehend what happened?

That a God that measures galaxies in the span of his hand, can be nailed to a tree by people like you and me?

It pains me to even write it.

no other words I can find but this;

Holy, holy, holy.

holy is the Lord.

See the coming of the king.

Holy is the Lord

Done

my fingers dance on the keyboard, weaving destiny.

Another daft movement later, it is sent.

And the world collapses into imagery.

~~~



A single shot rings in the dark.

3 pairs of eyes follow the progress of the red tracer until it has long faded into the night.

Did I hit it? wonders the shooter

Did I aim at the right target?

From a distance a light begins to pulse, to expand, to grow.

Its begun, says the man in the suit.

We may not all survive this... , says the poet softly.

The soldier still trembles with his hands on the rifle... silent in contemplation.

What do we do now?

We follow Aslan, as we've always tried to.

All that you know is about to change

~~~

Dear Lord,

I trust in you I have made the right choice.

Be with me, my strength, shield and comforter.

Let me rock this world for you Lord.

Amen

My market

its been a while since my last visit.

This time with a guest.

Gold flashes to appease the guard gnomes toll.

We're in

I spot an orange dog sporting a cape of sorts.

I dubbed him superfly (You've seen a bird fly, you've seen a plane fly, bet you ain't never seen a super fly!)

A handful of hot coffee take on a whole new meaning as hot donuts are juggled between conversation and a unicorn's head.

A budding artist attempts to lure us into buying a pink elephant name Nellie.

If only her sisters weren't spotted lurking in the back ground...

Laughter as we move on.

I stop and stare at a ferret turned scarf whilst being told by a passer by that he looks just like her ferret at home.

My attention is caught by a silver bloom and I begin the barginning with a racial slur.

I get it at my price, in exchange for racial harmony.

Elvis moves through the crowd even as a young boy stands up a soap box and channels powderfinger and silver chair, at the same time.

We stop at crystal shop, where I wave heavy globes of clear rain and jagged ice, commenting on each one's ability to inflict bodily harm. A young boy's ears are covered as I use the word club repeatedly whilst swinging a particularly potent candle holder.

The sun melts the morning mist away and the crowd bustles and grows.
Hotdog stands materialise and laughing children and half stories float through the air.

I prance through the stores in glee, gamely followed by an increasingly embrassed cloud of silent grins.

Lore is exhanged, memories drudged, and I waver between a pom, an artist and a jester as we weave through the market.

Picking up a stray cat (lazy and possibly vegan), we paused whilst I waved an rare and expensive crystal whale around (jonah was in its belly!) an commented Sweet lord, this thing could slug a guy till next tuesday!. Said whale is taken away from me very quickly.



Time toddered on and I was getting worried.

My companion still had not found a key, that first and memorble purchase, without which the market's magic would fade and eventually be forgotten.

Then, a concisely worded request is made, and we plod back to a certain store.

The contest of wills begins and ends quickly by slurring the Germans.

An overgrown ring falls into a sandwich bag and the magic is sealed.

Oh I do love this market indeed, and how I wish you were there.

Oh wait... you were.

Home again

Another bus ride, another trip home again.

Familiar place, familiar faces.

Familiar guilt.

Am I selfish for wanting to spread my wings?

To enjoy the pleasure of one's own life?

These recent months I've worked through the lonliness to begin to discover new facets of myself that I've learnt to cherish and indeed be appreciated for.

Now I'm made to feel guilty for it.

Lord, will I always have to live with this? This stigma?

Will nothing I do ever be good enough?

Let this my take flight to your lord.

May you be my comfort and strength.

Teach me to spread my wings of faith.

that you might lift me up.

Help me lord.

Let me fly away to you, with you.

For in this my strength wavers.




p.s. I apologise once again to my captive audience.
I promise I'll make sense of it all one day soon.
Thank you for listening.

Torn

So many reasons to stay,

So many reason to go...

I wrote that once.

I write it again.

My analytical side dissects the possibilities, probing for weaknesses, noting compromises that have to be made.

The recently awoken side of me wonders and pauses, noting the date he would a pushed sydney for, before trying once again to focus and shut out the colors invading the mind.

A younger man once took that path, shattered lance and all.

Brave, he was described.

I would voice it out again, but I find neither courage nor heart to let this song take flight.

Can't write... thinking

Somethings fallen in my lap.

An opportunity, a blessing a fork in the road.

I'd love to write but I need the focus.

There's so much thinking to do

But first and foremost, all glory to God on high.

Terrafirma

I remember Bo Grosso saying whoa! The site looks like they sell shoes!

Something to look forward to

I'm tired... and the constant bouts of insomnia (relative to me and i'm usually an owl) are taking their toll.

But hey, going back to melb this weekend, perhaps I'll pay my beloved market a visit.

That should be nice.

My Favorite Market

In this desert / Angel eyes

Called...

Obeys...

Wanders lost...

How many times have we seen this same mountain?

Once at least, perhaps more?

God has a plan for each of us, tasks that we are destined to do in the kingdom and must train for.

And each time we fail to learn the lesson, in time, we'll face the same mountain again and again and again until we learn what we need to.

I remember the last time things looked like this.

Called, obeyed...

then distracted, shattered and scattered. Oh how easily we forget.

Focus, seek, listen, obey... For God still sees that hand lifted up, and that wavering voice that said I'm here lord, send me.

Judges 6:11-16
11 Now the Angel of the LORD came and sat under the terebinth tree which was in Ophrah, which belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, while his son Gideon threshed wheat in the winepress, in order to hide it from the Midianites. 12 And the Angel of the LORD appeared to him, and said to him, “The LORD is with you, you mighty man of valor!”
13 Gideon said to Him, “O my lord,[a] if the LORD is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all His miracles which our fathers told us about, saying, ‘Did not the LORD bring us up from Egypt?’ But now the LORD has forsaken us and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites.”
14 Then the LORD turned to him and said, “Go in this might of yours, and you shall save Israel from the hand of the Midianites. Have I not sent you?”
15 So he said to Him, “O my Lord,[b] how can I save Israel? Indeed my clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house.”
16 And the LORD said to him, “Surely I will be with you, and you shall defeat the Midianites as one man.”