Ahh, the mystery of the computer and all it's works.
Now how to get my photo over on to my details.
If it is not too big that is

Wood

Some confused fellow once exclaimed, "I can't see the wood for the trees"
If he was to come to our place everything would be back the front.
I'll explain that if necessary.

MORE WOOD



While walking last night , God said, "Boy, do you want some wood"
I said, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening".
I hurried home and was able to get 2 trailer loads, I got it all even before the ferals turned up.
Thanks be to God.
Ben looks at my wood and says, "Dad, you've got wood to burn".!!!
I look and say, well that should last for 2 cold weeks.
Does the world really need optimists?
But then I must say, sometimes, when the Spirit moves, I feel Michael Angelo rising inside. (He was the guy that looked at a huge piece of granite and saw David within)
and at those times I see all sorts of things in the wood. No, I don't mean grubs and such, I mean things like Bowls and Standard Lamps and Candle Holders.

Can you guess what some people will "receive" for Christmas?



Some people are wool gatherers, I gather all sorts of things, I'm sure one could live on the things that Rowville people throw out.
More strength to the gatherers of this world
2 verses from the hoarders (and makers) bible
Proverbs 6:6 Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise.
Proverbs 30:28 The spider taketh hold with her hands, and is in King's palaces

To ponder on, the words of a "poor" poet from Scotland named Burns.
I would the gift that God would gie us
to see ourselves as others see us
It woulld from many a blunder free us
and foolish notions

The First Communion


Our neighbours across the road are from India, Newton and his wife Cynthia. Newton has a son from a previous marriage named Sigmund who is about 18 years of age. Cynthia has two children from Newton, Savannah, about 8, and Stefan about 2.
About 18 months ago, Newton came over and introduced himself, going out of his way to tell me that he was a christian, I thought at the time that this was done for my peace of mind, but it turns out they are what is known as practising Catholics.
Cynthia is "friendship itself", befriending her self to any willing neighbours.
About 3 weeks ago Cynthia told us that Savannah was to celebrate her "First Communion" and she invited us to come. On the day I made my third appearance inside a Roman Catolic Church, the previous visits were, one, to a wedding, and the second, a funeral. Well, what a pleasant surprise, among all the crossing and bowing, the gospel came forth in a lovely way. The jovial priest welcomed any visitors, especially a man from Ireland, with the words, "The damned Irish are everywhere".
I think he was using the word in the colloquial sense, and not in one of those "Krino" senses.
We arrived back at Salerno Way, and went across the road to Newton and Cynthia's place to find that the festivities were only just beginning. There were quite a few people there who looked as if they also came from India. A tall Indian man seemed to be the self appointed MC. It appears that his main job was to see that everyone had a glass with something in it. He was quite concerned to see me pouring an innoccous Coke. I had to smile when he went over to Marqui and surveyed all the food set out.
His approval was such that he said in a loud voice, "Hallelujah", followed almost immediately with the words, "The bloody rain is coming in here"! There was a lot of laughter and joy in their celebration and some singing, this is a song everybody joined together in singing,

Congratulations and celebrations We want the world to know we’re happy as can be
Congratulations and jubilations
We want the world to know
She has Jesus in her heart
Would you believe he makes us happy and contented There was a time happiness hadn‘t been invented But that was in the bad old days before she met him
Oh when she let him
Walk into her heart
Congratulations and celebrations
We want the world to know we’re happy as can be Congratulations and jubilations
We want the world to know
She has Jesus in her heart.
It took me about 24 hours to get over too much "Indian" food, but the memory of the whole experience of that "first Communion" has stayed with me.
The words Greville Hinton spoke to me years ago came back to me, "You know Don, we Baptists have no theology of the child".

Today we attended a service in a Baptist church where where one of my niece"s sons was baptised, you know, dipped right under the water. His name is James and he is 21 years of age. He has given his life to Christ and gave a good account of his faith.
It was good to be there.

We went from there to the second half of the service at the Berwick Vineyard and the preacher gave a great message
While it is wonderful to see the church alive and well in other settings, I still call the livlier end of the protestant church home.

"I WAS A STRANGER, AND YOU TOOK ME IN"


It was a nice day so we decided to try for another BBQ. Our two previous attempts were marred by forgetfulness. They were just low key picnics. The first, we opened our little basket, got out our diet biscuits and as we attempted to pour the coffee from our smalll thermos, we discovered that we had no cups. The second time we made sure that we had cups, sugar and even tea spoons. We opened our diet biscuits, got our cups out, and the spoons, but alas, as we poured from our small thermos, out came ,,, milk! We had forgotten to put in the coffee as we made it. We drank the sweetened milk and I have to tell you, it was very nice.
But the last time was a real BBQ, we took 4 sausages a well as the coffee and diet biscuits.
We tried the first "free" BBQ, marvelling at it's stainless steel top just sparkling in the sun, some yobbo Ozzie yelled out, "That BBQ doesn't work mate We waited as another Ozzie family finished their cooking on the adjoining barbie, being entertained by their discussion as to whom in their group was having realtionships with whom. Our turn came in due course and we layed our 4 sausages on this well used stainless steel plate, blackened by the previous users liberal use of some sauce on their already marinated spare ribs. As we watched our humble sausages begin to sizzle, along came some "strangers". We were able to inform them that the barbie they were about to use was out of order. As they waited for us to finish, I invited them to use the three quarters of the plate not taken up by our sausages, but they declined as they thought that we might be unimpressed by what they were going to cook. We spent the time asking them questions and discovered thet they hailed from Vietnam and there were 12 of them in the family group and I thought them to be quite delightful people.
As I thought about this afterwards, I thought that I would not be the best choice of person to take over Mr Ruddock's job, or we would have "boat people" arriving every week!
In Adelaide some years ago, I got booked for parking my car near some obscure sign, when I went to pay the authorities, I said to them "I was a atranger, and you took me in".

It was June 2004, we were passing through the Cotswold Hills, South Western England, (famous for its Cotswold sheep). Ben was driving with his mum alongside him in the front, both enjoying the others company, while I huddled grumpily in the back with my bout of Bell's Palsy. I wasn't seeing very well but I did notice a man working with his sheep in a makeshift holding yard and race. This was going on quite close to the road so I called a halt in order to have a closer look and perchance a chat with the man. I watched for a while. He appeared to be crutching his little captives, for their own good of course, though they seemed singularly unimpressed. When each one was done, he or she was free to make their way out through the race, a narrow outlet that could be blocked by the body of the man. As glad as the sheep were to find their own personal little ordeal over, the little outlet seemed to hold some imagined danger resulting in the race becoming choked up with a few timidly reluctant escapees.
The man was encouraging them one by one, saying, "Come on, be bold, be bold"
I didn't think much about this at the time, but asked the man when he expected to shear the sheep, to which he replied, "I hope to do so within a couple of weeks".
I returned to my back seat, and to my grumpy seclusion, considering the evident danger of blowfly strike in the mild English summer even though the sheep would be completely shorn in the not too distant future.
It was only many months later that my mind returned to the man encouraging the inmates to "be bold, be bold", realizing that this was indeed the "key verse" to the little parable enacted out before me that day in the Cotswolds.
The Good shepherd is often quoted as saying, "It's me, don't be afraid" or "Don't be afraid, it will be all right".
The Holy Spirit seems to give similar promptings in all different kinds of setting and circumstances.
My father was a kind of under shepherd to me, his shepherding methods changed as I grew older, the more capable I became the more he took his hand off me.
He was always encouraging and affirming. He used to say, "Don, life is like a game of cricket, you might go out for a duck or you might make a hundred, so you should go out intending to hit up a hundred" I used to have the feeling that to hit up a hundred one made a lot of money!
When he was asked by the older children why I was treated so well, his reply was that he had learned a lot by the time he got to me. I am still thankful for that.
The words of an old Western Song from my boyhood comes to mind.
Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard
A discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day.