winter hoorays

Hooray for being indoors, in pyjamas and wrapped in a thick blue dressing gown, while the rain steadily pours down outside. Hooray for a big, warm bed to lie in and listen to the water smattering on the window panes, splashing off the roof tiles and pooling in puddles on the driveway outside. Hooray for being well-fed, for studying the Bible and for friends. Hooray that God forgives me my bad temper and my tears and loves me just as I am.

...falls mainly on the plain. and in my garden.

I was excited to read this report in the SMH that says the plentiful rain we've had lately has been actually helping. "As at 9am yesterday, Sydney had received a whopping 172.4 millimetres since the start of February, compared with 4.4 millimetres for the same period last year...Sydney's dams are at 64 per cent of capacity, up 3 per cent in just a week." How amazing!

My garden is certainly happy about it, with the scrubby lawn actually starting to look quite healthy. The soil is rich and damp and smells wonderful when I turn it over with a spade. It's funny though, watching weather reports on TV, because when it's dry they complain that there's no rain and when it's raining they complain that it isn't sunny. Perhaps I am fortunate in that although I love a sunny day, I also love a rainy one.

It also makes me think about God's timing and how we just need to trust that he will sort things out. Although it's been a time of great hardship with the drought, he does eventually bring the rain. The reasons for it all might seem opaque, especially to those who have suffered the most, but he is in control and it is all part of his plan to bring people back to him.

If only I could apply those lessons better to my own life...

happy new year

She thinks. She thinks about the year and the people in it and she is glad. It's the people that make it worthwhile. The people and the cat. She gathers up in her heart all the people she loves - the old friends and new, the sibling, the parent, the Christian brothers and sisters - and she is glad.

It's a strange sort of night, still and silent and worlds away from the raucous debauchery she can see reflected in the sky, just over there, beneath those clouds. It's not as though she begrudges anyone their celebrations; people need a focus to feel happy, they need something to reflect on, an excuse. She has been the same, in times past. She just wonders why they pour so much money and effort into a happiness that lasts as long as that one explosion in the sky, that drink in the hand, that pill on the lips. People are so happy to settle for less.

She thinks. She thinks about the year and the struggles and the smothering feeling of being underwater, the effort it was to breathe at times, to think clearly. She is relieved that those things are behind her, and even though she knows there will be more of those lightning-sand-bog-of-eternal-stench type obstacles in her future, she knows there will always be a way through. And she is glad.

There is champagne and cheese and quince paste and good conversation. Those things are all worthwhile, especially when lying on a couch in comfortable clothes, listening to beautiful music. The Fireworks Suite, eh? That Handel was a clever chap, wasn't he?

She thinks. She thinks about the year ahead and she knows it will be much like the years past - oh, different things will happen, but for her there will still be the same goal, the same striving, the same purpose. She prays and gives thanks and confides her hopes, knowing she has been heard, knowing that she is loved. And she is glad.

less misanthropy, more thankfulness

I was going to write a post about all the things that irritated me today. I was feeling very misanthropic when I was out and about this afternoon.

But I came home and dug in the garden for a couple of hours, had a delicious dinner prepared by my lovely mother, and instead I decided to post photos of three things I am thankful for:

My tomato plants, which now have got tomatoes on them! (I know, that seems logical, but I was starting to doubt whether they would be a success. I keep planting things and pouring a lot of energy into the garden, but with very little method or science...and I am constantly impressed and surprised by how awesome it is to see things grow and flower and produce (God is pretty clever).)

My kitten, Scout, who continually makes me smile, even if she is a total dimwit. I suppose dimwittery is a kitten's prerogative. She is absolutely hilarious, especially when hunting bugs or helping me weed. She's less hilarious when she's pulling things off the Christmas tree or climbing up the flyscreen, but then, everything's an adventure to a kitten and in that spirit I have to commend her.

My mother's Christmas trifle. There was a minor glimmer of doubt as to whether we needed trifle, given that on Christmas day it's just going to be me, mum and Nick at lunch, we already have a Christmas pudding, and Nick isn't traditionally a dessert person. But when she learned that I had invited the Beilharzes and the Uns over for boxing day lunch and upon the merest mention of trifle, Ben had said "I'll be there!" mum gleefully set about making her annual masterpiece.

I hope wherever you are that you're having a peaceful and restful Christmas Eve.

it was a dark and stormy night

Looking south towards Coogee - 8 June 07.
Photo: Dallas Kilponen, smh.com.au

The weather is absolutely insane at the moment. For the second night in a row I'm wide-awake at 2.30, listening to the howling wind and lashing rain. It is quite amazing in a way, but gets exhausting after a while (even though I do love weather like this). I was impressed that the Baddeleys braved the weather and the roads to come over tonight for dinner (which they kindly brought, as usual); it was so good to see them, even if by the end of the evening we were all kind of sitting in a tired daze, staring into the middle distance and groaning at Mark's ever-worsening puns.

I haven't been near the water, but thought the above picture was pretty evocative and can't believe there are people stupid enough to go surfing in weather like this (there was another photo of a surfer being thrown through the air at Bondi). Also, how incredibly hard it must be for people who live on the streets on nights like this - so much worse than usual. Where would you even go to get out of the wind? It's inescapable. I am so grateful for the shelter and warmth of my home, even if I am a little worried that flying debris is going to smash through one of my windows.

I need to sleep.

the lights come on for a reason

The more I think about it, the more shocked I am at the fact that the car had no brake fluid. When I told Angelo at the garage that I'd driven to Katoomba in the Kitty Kar his face dropped and he looked absolutely appalled.

Dad loaned me this car in December and said it had recently been serviced (I now realise he said this probably just to appease me and not because it was actually true or anything). There was a dashboard light that said 'brake' that was permanently on; when I questioned him about it he said, "Oh, that doesn't mean anything, it's just an old car." YES IT DID MEAN SOMETHING!!! IT MEANT THE BRAKES WEREN'T WORKING!!!!!

When I think about how close to death I've been this whole time I just breathe a prayer of thanks and a sigh of relief...it's obvious I'm still meant to be around!

poor little rich people

i hate election time. there's a state election coming up on the 24th of March and so the ABC news is full of stories about what the leaders of each party are up to.

their second story tonight showed the opposition leader, peter debnam, who was today in western sydney 'highlighting the plight' of those struggling with high land taxes. they interviewed a woman who owns four properties in NSW and a fifth in QLD, who was complaining that she had to sell a property because the land taxes were just too high.

oh, my heart bleeds for you.

i'm sorry for the sarcasm, but honestly, how can that be considered a 'plight' when there are so many people who can't even afford one house, let alone five? are we supposed to feel sorry for property investors who are 'forced' to put rents up because they can't afford their mortgages? when those of us who are renting, and paying out huge proportions of our wages to do so, have no other option, and when so many people can't even afford to rent? how can people muck around with other peoples' homes, as though they are just renting for the hell of it?

i know my understanding of the market and economics is woeful at best, but surely housing is a basic human right. wouldn't it be great if our society was geared around the concept that everyone had to have one place to live that was theirs, before anyone else could have more than one property? (yeah, okay, you don't need to tell me why that wouldn't work or that i'm secretly a communist...i just think it would be fairer than wealthy people (who consider themselves hard done by) bitching about land tax for no good reason)

i'll stop ranting now. it makes me mad, but it also makes me grateful that i belong to a loving God who will always look after me. it doesn't mean he'll have me living in a 3 storey mansion, but i've never wanted for food or a roof over my head.

emotional bronchitis at Christmastime

as someone who suffers from depression and has been a pretty severe asthmatic in the past (though apparently not anymore, thank God!), James Fong's words in the latest issue of the Sydney Anglican newspaper Southern Cross resonated with me.

Depression is like emotional bronchitis. You just find it difficult to breathe. Antidepressants function as a bit of a Ventolin to help you breathe more easily, but you still have to do the hard work.

it's a tricky time of year. we're all so tired, we're all so frazzled. it can be hard to get into the 'Christmas spirit', whatever that is. you help run multiple church services and carols services and feel cynical and jaded. you sing along to joyful songs and feel no joy whatsoever. all you can think about is how you wish it was holidays and you could just hide for a while.

but Fong has more words for those of us who are finding it hard to breathe, and this is the key.

The big turning point for me was acknowledging that God is bigger than my greatest darkness. I realised that even if things were really black, if I was incapacitated from serving in ministry, or even if I lost my mind, none of that could separate me from God's love.

...

Thankfulness is the last thing on the mind of a depressive, but it's the very first thing we need to do to reverse the effects...often you just need to stop for a minute and work out what you can be thankful to God for, just bit by bit.

so what am i thankful for?

• that Jesus was born into this world to save it


• that God loves me even when i am ungrateful and cynical and wishing i could just give up


• that i have godly, loving and encouraging people around me like mum, jen, mark and barbara, to help me persevere


• that God has given me the gift of music, that i can sing and play and express my faith and my feelings in that way


• that mulan, a little girl from church who sings and plays piano, wants to be like me when she grows up (how cute is that?!)


• that i have been given so much, that i am so wealthy compared to most of the world, that i have the freedom to come and go as i please, to eat and wear and buy what i want, to go to church, to go to work


• that i can have Christmas celebrations in my own home, the way i want, with my mother and brother


• that in small ways i am an encouragement and a Christian witness to others, even though i feel isolated and invisible most of the time

and that's just the tip of the iceberg, really. it's easy to get discouraged, but there is a lot to be thankful for when you stop and think about it, even for just a moment.

We build walls of pride around ourselves, and in the end I've found that my brokenness is a great gift: it's an opportunity to allow God's grace to seep through.

~James Fong, Southern Cross dec/jan, p19