prayer request...

This is a brief prayer request. A week ago Tue I came off my bicycle. At the time it was sore but didn’t really have any big consequences – I was even able to blog about it here.

Since then things have progressed and I spent most of Wednesday in hospital waiting for a CT brain scan to see what’s been happening. The scan has detected a small bruise on the brain and I’ve been signed off work until Monday.

Things aren’t improving very quickly – please pray that I will recover speedily and well, that the medics who are looking after me will have wisdom, for Ines as she runs home and family life without any help (and a considerable amount of extra work because of me), and for the ongoing exciting student work that I’d much rather be telling you about!

Can I be really bold and ask you not to ring to get updates? I’m not up to phone calls and Ines is too busy to take them. Sorry, this sounds really ungrateful – it’s the opposite of that, we appreciate the concern and love and will keep you up to date via the blog.

All the leaves are brown?

A stunning sunny afternoon. A restful Sunday afternoon. Friends turn up with a great apple crumble for a suprise afternoon tea. Autumn at its best.

It takes a while to get the fact that seasons are the polar opposite (literally) from where I grew up. But now, I LOVE the seasonal pace of NZ life. May is feijoas, falling leaves, the smell of wood fires in the evenings and the warmth of the sun in the midafternoon offsetting the cold awakenings and breakfasts huddled at the table (drawing heat as well as caffeen from the morning coffee).

Exercise is potentially lethal

This morning Ruben left the house for school but left his backpack behind. I'm not sure how, it's large and weighty – he must have felt very free cycling without it. Ines suggested that I take the bag up to the school (with all of his books, lunch and sports gear in it). The school isn't far and I was going to drive up but my wife in her commitment to increasing my physical activity reminded me that someone has just given me a bike to ride and I should break it in on a glorious autumnal morning.

It is a glorious day. I realised very quickly that I hadn't noticed that we live toward the bottom of a steady incline and my decrepit self was going to struggle. I was right. The school is about 2.5k at the top of the incline. I made it to the school, handed the bag in, trying not to pant like a dog on a hot summers day and looked forward to cycling (fee wheeling) back down the steady incline all the way home.

About half way home I picked up some speed, the cars were pretty close and I was feeling a bit hassled but I was trying to enjoy the sun and autumn colours when disaster struck. The front wheel of the bike went into a drain hole, the bike stopped suddenly. I stopped less suddenly and gained 'air time'. I stopped suddenly when my face acted as my landing gear on the road, my specs landed a little further off and the thought went through my head "I'm about to be run over and I wonder if the house insurance will cover my glasses if they are broken". No one ran me over and no one stopped and my specs are fine. I picked myself up; thankful for life, that I wasn't run over and the leather jacket I had on to protect me from the autumn wind had taken the worst of the scrapes.

The front tyre was flat and I was in no state to ride anyway. I hobbled home: in shock and shaken but still under the anaesthetic of adrenalin. Life is fragile – things could have been very different this morning. But here, on a glorious day, with a body just beginning to let me know how jarred and battered it was and a great start of an impressive black eye, I'm refreshed in my thankfulness for life and life more importantly in Jesus Christ.

Over the next few days I hope to be meeting with church leaders in the surrounding area. The black eye will no doubt give a good opener to conversations and won't leave a bad first impression! Over the next few days I'm determined to be thankful – even for the aches and pains of getting over the accident. Over the next few days I'll probably make the most of Ines feeling awful at suggesting the bike ride and Ruben feeling terrible about me getting injured in the pursuit of being his father. Over the next few days I will do no more exercise and will undoubtedly be healthier for it!

A wedding and a funeral: Loving Jesus

I observed a wedding reception last night. This morning I was at a memorial service for those killed in the mangetepopo river disaster. Both made me love Jesus more.

The wedding reception was a Biblical one. John 2. The party at Cana. Somethings I noted for the first time. The wedding party must have already worked their way through the best wine on offer and emptied the supply of the lesser quality stuff on offer - given when the guests are least aware of issues taste as their senses have been pre-dulled. The mother of Jesus (who goes unnamed in the passage) draws Jesus attention to it. He asks the question what it has to do with him as this was not his 'hour'. This was not why he came. But the answer to what connected him to the incident was that when God's promised one comes he would bring the feast to end all feasts - the best of foods and the finest of wines. Jesus' mother instructs the servants to do as Jesus tells them and disappears from the story.

Jesus does indeed have instructions for the servants. Fill the (now empty) jars that had held the water used to make the guests ceremonially clean for the celebrating of the feast. That's about 450 litres. That would have taken some time. They are servants. They do it because they have been told to. They do it because, I guess, they are not busy serving wine to the slightly snozzled guests.

They come to Jesus. He tells them to serve the master of the feast with the water they have just drawn. The master of the feast is maybe the one other guest, apart from Jesus and his mother, who hasn't helped to empty the supplies. He is astounded. The wine (all 450 litres of it - 600 bottles by todays' standard) is the VERY best quality.

The first of Jesus' signs - in the midst of the ordinary and everyday. It's like a glimpse, a hint, a peek of his brilliance. John says 'his glory'. In the Bible study at AUT last night someone asked 'what does Glory mean'. Someone else, straining to capture all she knew of Jesus and of God's self revelation inthe Bible said - 'it's God's righteous shining-ness'. I laughed - it is a brilliant way of describing God's glory.

As we studied. As the students of AUT 'got' what was going on in a study brilliantly led by Sarah Kwok, I felt like I loved Jesus for the first time - all over again.

This morning the memorial service happened at a large arena/stadium a 15 minute drive from where we lived. There was much about it that moved me but overall it was not a sad testimony of loss (though there was that in a compelling and at times overwhelming) rather a proclamation of hope.

The sister of Floyd read a poem she had written which spoke of missing her big brother who, now living somewhere else, is too far away to come and play.

The parents of Natasha speaking of their faith in the midst of loss:
"you may have asked where God was in the midst of all of this: God was Sovereign before the 15th April, he was Sovereign on the 15th April and he is Sovereign today and tomorrow..."

The call to turn to God in Hope. Hope in His promise, not in our selves. Hope in His justice, mercy and in the gift of Jesus. Hope.

I loved Jesus even more - for the power of the resurrection over death. I loved him all the more for the Hope of eternity without loss, death and sin. I loved Him for bringing me and the family to this land at this time.

I loved Him all the more in the Bible study and at the memorial. I love Him all the more right now. I love Him for Himself. What more is there?