Sorry I have been a bit slack posting lately it just seems that we have had so much on. We have just recently returned from two weeks furlough which was a good chance to catch up with family and friends. During this time our eldest daughter Amy-Lee turned 12 !!!! this is really scary, but she is growing into a wonderful young woman and I couldnt be prouder of her. She got two parties; the first a sleepover with her friends in Warrnambool and then a family one in Melbourne.
Then we were back to work and catching up on everything, we got to share in our first Cluster Group with six other officers which was a great time. We looked at some teaching from John Ortberg on the story of Esther(very beneficial... I will probably post about this later).
Then this week our daughter Zara went into hospital to have her Tonsils and Adnoids removed. She is feeling a bit sick and sorry for herself at the moment but the surgery went well, the surgeon is very happy and she will definitely be better off now that they are out.
During all of these events we have been reminded again just how wonderful God is, the last event I wanted to share with you was a decision night held at Singing Company last Monday night. This is a group of around 30 to 35 children that meet to sing songs every Monday night and they take part in the meeting a few times a year. The majority of this group come from Non Christian households and this is their only link to church. ( While I was writing this I did my sums in my head and I think there is only 8 that belong to corps families !). As I said last week we held a "decision Night" where we delved a bit deeper into what it meant to be a Christian and what it actually was to ask Jesus to come into your life. I deliberately tried to keep this night as unemotional as I could ( if you want to know why speak to me some time) and after talking things through and handing out a book to each child we offered the chance to come forward and pray with a leader to ask Jesus into their life. Amazingly we had well over ten youngsters come forward and a number more talk and discuss their thoughts on this and ask relevant questions that could lead to further decisions. God is so good and He rewards us when we step out in faith. The challenge now is to help these children to continue on the path they have started and nurture them in the Christian faith.
I would ask if you are a Christian that you would pray for these youngsters, and if you are not maybe you would consider what it actually means to ask Jesus to come into your life. I can gaurantee one thing life will never be the same again.
God Bless you each.
Thursday, 17 April 2008
Saturday, 12 April 2008
I seem to be always about two years behind the latest trends, and to prove my point I have joined Facebook this week. I was introduced by my sister in law as a way that Susan and I could catch up with some old friends we knew when we first got married, well I didnt realise how quickly you could find people you hadnt spoken to or seen for twenty years.
It has been great to catch up with some of these and find out what has been happening in their lives and let them know about what we are doing. It has been fun to shock a number of them with the fact we are now in full-time ministry. These people have remained as my friends even though we lost regular contact, and we were able to chat and laugh together as if we had never been seperated.
I cant help but relate this to God and the love He has for each of us, no matter if we stop communication with Him and get caught up in other things He is always waiting for us to make contact again, and wanting to embrace us and welcome us back to the family.
It has been great to catch up with some of these and find out what has been happening in their lives and let them know about what we are doing. It has been fun to shock a number of them with the fact we are now in full-time ministry. These people have remained as my friends even though we lost regular contact, and we were able to chat and laugh together as if we had never been seperated.
I cant help but relate this to God and the love He has for each of us, no matter if we stop communication with Him and get caught up in other things He is always waiting for us to make contact again, and wanting to embrace us and welcome us back to the family.
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
The Room
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order.
But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
As I grew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read, “Girls I Have Liked”. I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalogue system for my life. Here was written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed”.
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read”, “Lies I Have Told”, “Comfort I have Given”, “Jokes I Have Laughed At”. Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled At My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I have Done In My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath At My Parents.”
I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even missions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To”, I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts”, I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind. “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!”
In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.
But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared The Gospel With”.
The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that I fell to my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards.
I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arms around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards.
But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.” (John 19:3)
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Author Unknown
But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
As I grew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read, “Girls I Have Liked”. I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalogue system for my life. Here was written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed”.
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read”, “Lies I Have Told”, “Comfort I have Given”, “Jokes I Have Laughed At”. Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled At My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I have Done In My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath At My Parents.”
I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even missions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To”, I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts”, I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind. “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!”
In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards.
But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared The Gospel With”.
The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that I fell to my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards.
I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arms around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards.
But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.” (John 19:3)
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Author Unknown
Friday, 4 April 2008
Footy Fever
Now if you know me well you will know that I love sport, all sports, any sports, give me pay TV and the sports channels and I am set for the week. I am especially a fan of AFL football and the Geelong Football Club, I will tell anyone about the cats and love spending time talking about the game and my club. I have been challenged a lot lately about why I am so passionate about a game but at times quite the opposite about my faith. If someone gives me the opportunity I will talk football with them for hours, I cant remember too many times where I have shared my faith in God with anyone for even half of that time.
It is not that I dont have a great love for God, it is not that I am worried about what to say, it is just I dont do it enough. Speaking to one of my very best friends last night Keith asked the question why so many people can unite in one voice on a Saturday or Sunday for a club and players they dont know, yet remain so unpassionate (I know this is not a real word) when it comes to the things of God. This is why people like Captain Stephen Court and Cadet Aaron Stobie (along with many others) stand out because they are always passionate. The man I heard preach last night was asking us all to 'Stir it Up' for God, when we were at the college recently the cadets were challenged to 'Stoke It Up' they both mean the same: lets get serious about this and start to share Gods word with everyone. I want people to look at me and see someone passionate for God and passionate about winning souls for the Kingdom.
So next time someone wants to talk football with me I might just turn the conversation to a far more important Love of mine ..... GOD !!!
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