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.