Births and deaths tend to draw our thoughts towards life itself and the things that matter.

As I write this, I'm getting updates from a delivery room. The wonders of our modern age make it possible for me to feel as though I'm almost in the room with my daughter as she labours to bring our second little grandson into this world.

Our almost-here little man has decided he’d like to enter this big world a little early so I have inherited the job of sewing up the last few sheets for his little Moses Basket, a job which his Mummy may have been putting off. So my morning has been spent between the sewing machine, the ironing board and my computer. With the house to myself and only the occasional sound of a message coming in, I've had plenty of time to think.

Today is going to be a birth day! I've just received a message to say mummy is ready to ‘push’! That means that perhaps even as I write these words, a new life is beginning! What an amazing thought!!! I wonder if it’s possible to ever get to the stage where you feel you have your head around this miracle. If so, I’m a long way from that point!

As I’ve been stitching this morning, I've pondered the stitching together of this little life over the past thirty eight weeks. What an incredible work of art a new baby is! Such complexities all wrapped up in miniature perfection, and what never ceases to amaze me, is the intricacies of inherited likeness so often already obvious! Creation really is beyond our thinking capabilities!

It’s not really surprising that we can’t get our heads around the process of creation. The One who came up with this idea also put together our universe and I think that sort of sets Him apart!

…It’s now 2 days since our little Harper Joshua arrived and what a little treasure he is… and very little!

I expected to write more in this post but the new little family is staying with us for a few days, and spare minutes are few and very far between. I have therefore decided to post this raw, unpolished and ‘unfinished’. The words are just as they first came to me, on a very special day…a birth day!

It’s been a whole month since I posted and what a busy four weeks they have been! A few days in Sydney then a week in Tasmania, but now we’re home again…and home is nice place to be.

I usually begin a blog with a seed thought. Often words are waiting at the blocks, ready to race across the line when I open a Word document. Inspiration usually comes from a photo, an event or a story but this afternoon it’s a little different.

Everyone knows the phrase, ‘Home is where the heart is’. While I was unpacking the other day that phrase kept popping into my head, a bit the way a song gets stuck in your head. After several hours of pushing it away with no success, I came into my office and typed it at the top of a blank page. There it has sat for four days…

Now here I am at my desk with just my cuppa, the sound of doves cooing quietly outside the window and the little phrase. I have to admit it feels strange though because I'm about to embark on something I've never tried before. I haven’t a clue where this is going. I might even end up meandering off on a bit of a tangent...

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I think it’s fair to say that home is filled with familiarity, a place that reflects our ‘history’. It’s a place we can relax with no pretence, and just be ourselves.

Having just spent time away from home, I thought I might do a little comparing. It might be interesting to look at ‘home’ and ‘away’. Hahaha, love the little word accident!

Home is mostly fashioned to suit our needs, our likes and dislikes. Things are chosen to complement our lifestyle. Over time we change and so we make changes around us. When we first make a change, we are keenly aware of it but it’s usually short lived. Soon it becomes part of all that’s familiar, sliding into the common place, where we rarely notice it.

On the other hand, when we are away, we see things through wide open eyes. Something about the newness of a place inspires us to take in detail, to delight in tiny things, absorbing our surroundings with all our senses.

Tasmania boasts the most amazing autumn colours! Stopping to admire and take photos, we were often overwhelmed by the beauty. However, for those living in and around this same beauty every day, I suspect it mostly goes unnoticed.

It’s sad when we become so familiar with beauty around us that we no longer see it. It’s even sadder when we become so accustomed to the people around us that we miss their beautiful traits, instead often dwelling on the negative aspects of their personality.

In order to fully appreciate the beauty of Tasmania, we had to stop, to focus and take in detail. It’s probably not a bad little exercise to occasionally stop and really look at those around us, to recall the things that drew us to them in the first place, and if we look carefully, if we really look, those beautiful traits are probably still there, hidden amongst the familiar.  

 

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Well I certainly strayed a little way from the original thought. Very much a meander. An interesting exercise…

 

 

Sometimes I stop to admire little blooms along my way and other times I pick them and take them home with me! There are times when that tiny bloom isn't yet fully open.

This morning during a phone conversation I picked a tiny bloom in its infancy, yet even as I type, it’s beginning to open. As we chat with someone about a complex issue, we often gain clarity. So too, as I type, clarity often comes. I guess that’s because I need to examine and sift my thoughts, often exploring unsolved or uncomfortable questions. It feels a little like teasing out a knot in my thinking.

During this morning’s phone conversation we talked about the messy parts of a relationship with God. Even as I type that, it sounds a bit wrong, however I think it’s truth. Any relationship has its messy times, or at least I hope it’s that way for others because it’s certainly my reality. The messy times challenge us; things are often confusing, complicated or uncomfortable, sometimes they are downright painful. These times confront what we currently think and believe. If we let them, they nudge or push us to a new place in our thinking. Change is good, it indicates growth.

Just as we grow and change (although in my stage of my life not all the growing and changing is desirable!), healthy relationships are ever-changing. Getting to know the person we’re in relationship with, and understanding them a little better, can lead to a shift in our thinking and this often helps us see the person in a new light and even relate to them differently. I can’t see why it is any different in a relationship with God.

Other relationships that surround us are a varied mix of great, good, not-so-good, challenging and even difficult. It’s the process of travelling through these that helps us learn more about, and better understand each other. 

Tough, trying times test a relationship and can cause it to send its roots deep. I guess that’s what people mean when they say, “We've been friends through thick and thin.” If we can work through the tough times, it often cultivates a new dimension in our relating.

So, getting back to my phone conversation and messy times in our relationship with God - circumstances that challenge our perception, understanding or belief about God, about what He is like and how He connects with us.

An interesting thing happened while I was engrossed in the conversation – an unexpected, uninvited image popped into my head - perhaps one of the ways God ‘speaks’ to us? While I was listening to my friend talk about an event which feels messy for her right now, I ‘saw’ a vivid image of a painter taking daubs of paint and working them on a canvas. I could actually see the colours sitting, pushed up against each other. I didn't see a picture, just colours on a canvas – some dark, some bright. It was only as I teased out the thought, that I realised it literally was a perfect picture of what happens in our life.

Up close a canvas can seem merely a composite of colours and shades but from a more distant perspective a picture emerges. Sometimes further down the road, we get an inkling of the purpose of past life events, we sense they have been instrumental in directing or equipping us for later roles and tasks. However, there are times when we never get to see the reason for the messy aspects of our journey. It’s those times I've been thinking about today.

A very strange contradiction emerged in my thinking; that there are times when messy circumstances actually give us clarity in our relationship with God. They shift our perceptions of Him.

I remembered a time last year when life seemed very messy. The joyful anticipation of our first grandchild’s arrival, with all the associated excitement, was thrown into confusion when tests supported the very real possibility that the little one would be born with severe chromosomal abnormalities.

The five week journey I travelled in my relationship with God, before we received news to the contrary, taught me a lot about who He is and the way He cares and communicates with us, especially in difficult times.

The journey shifted my perception of God, it gave clarity and helped me understand more about Him, and that changed me. I relate differently to Him now because I know Him better. We travelled a difficult road together. During that messy time, I sensed in an almost tangible way, His love and care for me and for our family.

This leads me to believe the messy times have a purpose. Even if we never find out what that purpose is, we need not waste them. If we let them challenge us and move us, we can discover something new and perhaps even exciting in our relationship with God. I bet He loves it when we make that discovery!

                                                      

During a recent expedition I came across some ancient writings. Didn't know I was an explorer? Well I'm not, and that introduction is more than a little misleading, however, it’s not a complete lie. I did stumble across some old writing…my writing, penned more than a decade ago. I’d written about a trip Jeff and I took to Uluru.

Documentaries, photographs and friends' recommendations convinced us it was a place worth visiting. We were told to expect flies, lots of them! However arriving at the airport in the middle of winter, not a single fly greeted us. No doubt the freezing temperatures explained their absence.

My initial impression of the place just didn't seem to match the picture I had conjured in my head. Having heard so much about the heat, the bitterness of the cold surprised me. I’d imagined dry, perhaps even desolate, flat country, bereft of vegetation.

We discovered no documentary, no colourful description and no collection of photographs adequately describes the place! It was not flat as I’d expected, and not totally without vegetation, even though it hadn't rained in months. I remember being surprised just how red the soil was, a striking contrast to the spectacular blue of the sky… and nothing had prepared us for the sheer enormity of The Rock. Standing at its base was a very big experience!

Being avid snappers, we eagerly awaited the sunset and the subsequent sunrise. Although words can’t do it justice, I’ll try to describe the sunset experience.

It was cold, a still cold that doesn't come up and hit you but slowly seeps in. The longer we stood there, the colder we got. Surrounded by quiet, almost reverend voices, people waited. I didn't really know what to expect. I’d seen the famous images of Uluru at sunset and I think I believed the colours were a little exaggerated.

As we stood with our backs to the sun and our expectant faces turned towards The Rock, the most remarkable thing began to happen. The sky slowly took on a richer, more piercing hue of blue, and right before our eyes The Rock slowly illuminated. A breathtaking transformation took place. Its dull blend of grey and brown shifted to more vibrant shades. It seemed The Rock was lit from its centre, and the living red gradually grew in intensity. Standing tall against the magnificent blue of the evening sky, it was a breathtaking sight and a very moving experience!

I stood and watched the evolving spectacle, in absolute awe at this pinnacle of splendour. However it was just as the sun slipped unnoticed behind me that something interesting and quite unexpected happened.

As we stood in the hushed crowd, glancing around me, I noticed every eye was glued on the radiant beauty of The Rock. I'm not sure why, but at that moment I turned to glance at the sunset behind me. What I saw took my breath away; the most spectacular sunset, one that surpassed any I’d ever seen before! The memory of it remains with me still.

I was amazed. I had spent minutes absorbing the beauty of The Rock in all its sunset splendour, and now I was confronted with an even more powerful display. It took me completely by surprise. The sky was splashed with the most vibrant reds, purples, oranges and golds, lighting the clouds with luminous edging. It was breathtaking!

Enchanted with the Rock’s beauty, I had been totally unaware of the very source of its beauty. If I had remained with my face towards The Rock I would have missed it altogether. Right there at that moment I remember being struck by a powerful parallel. Standing at Uluru’s vast base, I felt the greatness of the place, of the sunset, and my thoughts turned to God. It’s hard to be surrounded by such magnificence and greatness without being moved, without pondering its origin. That was certainly my experience.

Recalling it now, I realise how easy it is to miss the source of the many amazing things in our world - the miracle of birth, the sparkling beauty of a new morning, sun on bejewelled leaves after rain and the form of a tiny baby’s hand.

We can be so taken by the beauty that we completely miss or perhaps forget to acknowledge their source. An old book that has stood the test of time, puts it like this, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

Greater than the created beauty…is the Creator of the beauty.

Something interesting happened to me a few weeks ago. I smile even now as I recall it. Out walking in an old pair of white shorts, I realised the elastic in them had seen better days. I was sad. They were cool, comfortable and best of all, needed no ironing after a wash. Soon, very soon, they would need replacing.

Shortly afterwards I was driving near my local op shop and decided to stop in and see if I could pick up a bargain or two. I love bargains but I especially love op shops! The whole concept resonates with me - something discarded by one can be valued by another.

As I turned the car into the car park I remembered my white shorts and without much thought, said aloud, “God, what I need is another pair of white shorts, just like the pair that’s dying.” Now, I wasn’t using ‘God’ in the way the word is often used today. I was actually telling God something, chatting with Him, if you like. It wasn’t a serious, ‘I need’ kind of request, just a passing comment... and then I didn’t think any more about it.

Inside the shop, I was thrilled when I found a beautifully made pair of leather boots for our soon-to-be-toddler grandson. Then as I wandered the clothing aisles, my eyes lighted on a pair of shorts and I remembered my earlier comment.

As I took them down from the rack, I could scarcely believe my eyes. These were not just any pair of shorts. They were white and they were made of the exact same wash-and-wear material as my old ones! A fitting length for a lady whose legs no longer deserve exhibition, I couldn’t help smiling at the engaging ‘coincidence’.

Even though the tag had been cut off the band, and even before I headed in the direction of the change rooms, I just knew they would fit me perfectly! God heard my words because He always hears, even passing comments, and this time He answered “Yes” to an unimportant, incidental request. 

To me that day, His “Yes” spoke volumes. It seems to me that He cares about even the smallest details of our lives because He likes us a lot! He made us and He likes us! I like my new shorts too and they walk with me often. Even better than their predecessors, they’re lined! It’s so like God to go over and above what we ask or think.

I love humour and I love to laugh! Anything from a private smile or a quiet chuckle to the kind of laughter I have no control over. It reminds me I’m alive, often shifting my perspective and splashing joy in my day.

On my way to a friend’s house recently, I enjoyed a little chuckle. As I rounded the corner leading out of our suburb, I saw a man and his dog. I’ll try to describe exactly what I saw so it seems a little more worthy of a chuckle.

The man was a little younger than me, and as I slowed, I had time to take in the full detail of what he wore. A pair of baggy, faded, seen-a-better-day pair of shorts and a matching tee shirt - not matching in colour, more matching in age and state of disrepair! A tatty hat and a pair of old thongs finished off the far-from-perfect outfit. In the millisecond before I noticed anything else, I was already smiling and what I noticed next, gave wings to my chuckle.

The man’s hands were swinging loosely by his side, totally free of the dog’s lead which appeared to be attached to some hidden part of his shorts. To begin with I wasn’t quite sure why I was chuckling but something about this man and his dog, struck a chord.

As I continued my drive, I thought about the picture which was now etched in my mind. The man looked the epitome of laziness! Everything about him and the way he walked screamed, “I’m not using an ounce more energy than I have to today.” One could assume he was a lazy person but perhaps that wouldn't be fair. On any other day he may be a conscientious, hard working man, but today he was having a lazy day. It seemed he didn't even want to walk the dog. The dog in fact, was taking him (and his shorts) for a walk!

That thought led to another, as often happens, and I ended up at the most unexpected place. I found myself thinking about the things we are sometimes lazy about, the kinds of things that should never be associated with laziness - forgiving a wrong, showing gratitude, offering a kind word or helping someone in need. These build us and others up, and joy is often an unexpected bi-product, a good reason to be intentionally working at these things!

On the other hand, we would do well to be lazy when it comes to keeping a record of wrongs, hurting others with our words and engaging in gossip. Easy to do, these natural tendencies have nothing good to offer. Whether we are conscious of it or not, they tear down and destroy.

I suspect the word ‘laziness’ may continue to conjure in my mind, the image of a dog taking a man and his shorts for a walk. That’s a good thing because I need to be reminded often, that I should be in the business of building others up. 

I love to tell stories and I love to listen to others tell stories. I guess I just love stories. Recently a good friend told me a story I thought was worth sharing because it reminded me of something important, something I’ve known for a long time but keep forgetting. I’m sure my friend won’t mind. I’m not stealing her story, just borrowing it so I can share it with you!  

Over the Christmas break my friend and her husband took their two sons on a long and pretty ambitious camping trip. Lots of planning and preparation went into it. My friend is the queen of planning and preparation!!!  If I ever grow up, I want to be as good at planning and preparing as she is!

Their camping holiday saw them visit lots of interesting places and do some wonderful things together. Sitting in her kitchen, listening to her animated account, it sounded like a pretty amazing holiday, the sort of holiday they will remember forever!

My friend is a great story teller and I loved listening to her lively description of the highlights, picturing events that when strung together, made the ‘best holiday’. I chuckled as she described one event. It included a set of parents, two sons (one teenager and one almost-teenager), long hours together in a confined space (the car), in the middle of summer. It brought back a torrent of memories! Aaah the joy of travelling long distances in a car with teenagers!

Another event which will possibly sit forever in the memorable category was the night they encountered a storm.  With their pop-up camper trailer set up on a foreshore in South Australia, they retired to bed for the night. Around 3am my friend awoke to the deafening sound of almost 50kph winds. Lying in her bed, listening to the wind’s threatening howls, and separated from the chaos outside by a single layer of canvas, she began to worry. Checking current weather conditions and warnings on her mobile only served to fuel her concern.

Surrounded by her sleeping family, for two hours she lay in her bed checking half hourly weather updates and making contingency plans in her head, should they need to evacuate. Eventually at 5am she woke her husband and this is the part of her story that reminded me of something I already knew.

With her husband awake her anxiousness was relieved, so relieved that although the wind continued unabated, she went straight to sleep!

There was such a powerful message for me in that little chapter of her story! None of us travel far down life’s pathway without ample cause for worry. On some stretches of our journey, worry is a close companion, shadowing our every step. Then at other times we encounter ‘him’ but once in a while. No matter how often we meet ‘him’, there’s always the temptation to stop and entertain ‘him’.

That day in my friend’s kitchen I remembered again, what I’ve known for a long time, that nothing good comes from entertaining worry. One of the oldest books in history has this to say about the futility of worry, “Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?”

I find it interesting that as soon as my friend knew her husband was aware of the situation they were in, she was able to relax. It was as if she had passed her burden of worry to him and when he took it, she was released. It was this very notion that served as a reminder.

As I sat listening, I recalled trying times in my life when I have experienced the same freeing release as my friend felt, times of knowing that God was ‘awake’ and present in my storm, when I almost literally felt I was handing my burden of worry to Him. Words don’t do justice nor can they adequately describe, the almost unreal sense of freedom in the midst of turmoil.

However, here’s the strange part. Having had these powerful experiences, it seems strange that in times of trouble or difficulty, my default position is still so often to worry! I guess that’s why I need these little reminders. They bring me back to what I already know, that worrying serves not good purpose in my life. God is always ‘awake’ and present, even in my ‘storms’, and if I pass my burden of concern to Him, I will again experience that freedom and release.