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.”

Overwhelmed

The mindscape shudders in the night, a whirling pulsing dark ball strobes amidst a growing storm.

3 men stand before it, wondering, waiting... somewhat fearing.

None of us are strong enough for this song, mutters the soldier.

The weaves are too complex, mumbles the poet.

We'll do it together says suit.

A hand raises uncertainly, then gathers strength, closes on the whirling globe.

lightning crashes

the scene fades.

~~~

Everyone is as complex...
----

It was meant to be a simple night.

Spend some time with departing friends.

Let the new found chef out to play.

go home to rest.

Midway through the night, someone begins a song.

It started plainly at first.

Familiar melodies, themes, imagery.

Smiling face, beaming eyes, bubbly personality.

Then without warning, the melody drops.

Minor keys creep into the song, the story begins to unfold.

The words pour out, simply and honestly, like I would describe how to make a meal or directions to the super market.

Yet the tale they spin emerges full of pain & darkness.

Still the smiling as the pictures develop, cracks like spider webs across a wall, shattered mirrors bouncing the unending scream that deafens the silence.

At this point my senses are overwhelmed, and the occasional colours that are seen / sensed have exploded into an ether of blood red darkness.

I avoid eye contact.

Across the chaos and din, of music modes of the soul so dark, a clear note begins to ring.

The story moves and the single note grows, a quartet, a choir, an army.

Like a receding stain the darkness slowly wavers then dissipates.

It all collapses into a single smile and shrug of the shoulders.

Where is it? I found the voice to ask.

And in that nearly inperceptible pucker of skin, the montage is completed.

And stepping back, racing out.

I see the mosaic of a life restored, that shines forth the awesome powerful of the God that I serve, and yet fail every day.

~~~~

Thanks to my friend for this awesome testimony, I am truly humbled by it.