One for sorrow,Two for joy,Three for a girl,Four for a boy,Five for silver,Six for gold,Seven for a secret,never to be told,Eight for a wish,Nine for a kiss,Ten for a bird you must not miss.

I have a magpie mind. I like anything that glitters.~  Lord Thomson


How the world has changed! 

I have memories, just, before Poppy decided farming was unprofitable & moved into town, of the milk coming up to the farmhouse in buckets.  Jersey cows.  The milk was thick & rich with cream frothing up in yellowish festoons, still warm from the cow.  Now you're not supposed to drink milk like that.  It's unhealthy or something so they do horrible things to it, remove the cream, & serve it up cold [like revenge].  It just doesn't taste the same.

I was a city girl ~ though until I was quite big I didn't see much of the city.  We lived out in the Sticks, across the river from the Royal National Park in Sydney, without too many other houses about & a long steep drive that crossed the smallest of ferny rivulets tumbling down through the sandstone to the sea.  Visitors baulked at the steepness of our drive.  People like the Postie & the Milkman did not visit.  We had a box at the top of the drive where things like the mail & the milk got delivered because there once was a day, dear people, when the milk got delivered to your door ~ or your box, as the case may be.  We left our silver & our milk crate there each evening & in the morning someone hiked up the hill to collect it in time for breakfast but you had to be quick or you were forced to share & the magpies got all the cream.

What my children have missed out on in this day of plastic & convenience stores!  The pint milk bottles were glass.  Really truly glass ~ & completely recyclable.  You returned your empties & the Milko took them away.  In their place he left full ones.  They came with a tin foil *lid* & half an inch of thick cream stoppering the neck. Ma liked the cream for her coffee.  The rest of us coveted it for our porridge.  However foil is not a hard plastic lid & the magpies were quick to figure out their beaks were harder than foil & they profited  enormously by puncturing the foil with their beaks & helping themselves to our breakfast.  Their innovation probably hastened the demise of  the glass milk bottle, home deliveries & the Milko!

Are you old enough to remember what milk actually tastes like?  Proper milk, straight from the cow?  Unprocessed?  The cream still floating about on top the way God designed it?  Some days I think we've gone completely overboard on the whole hygiene thing.  People were drinking & eating unprocessed  stuff for centuries before they were aware of germs & things.  Some of them died.  Most didn't or we wouldn't be here.  And there are risks with all this plastic.  It starts breaking down almost immediately ~ straight into our milk & juice & bottled water.  Goodness alone knows what it's doing to our insides!  Do I even want to know?  I don't want to own a cow.  Have you ever tried milking one of these things?  Hard on the wrists.
For a democracy a good many fundamental choices have been taken from us.  Like what goes into our food & how it is delivered to us ~ all in the name of cconvenience.   Convenience will be the death of us!

The Circumcision of the Heart.

God is a practical God.  You ever notice that?  God not only tells us what He wants done, He gives us the helps we need to achieve His purposes.  I've been thinking about this as I'ved travelled in & out with Dino each day this week.  Dino's not communicative first thing in the morning; the traffic down the highway is slow.  I don't mind.  My thoughts revolve as slowly as the turning wheels & my meandering thoughts wander here & there & eventually came to roost like a homing pigeon because there's got to be as many versions of Christianity as there are Christians & Dino, being the practical sort, has honed in on the very practical applications of Christianity ~ exactly the area I'm left floundering, not being the practical sort myself, not understanding the theology, not even sure I agree with it ~ though that may be Dino's explanations because he always cuts to the main chase & leaves his foundational arguments out! [sigh]

It's not so much that I'm dense; I just don't think in straight lines.  I'm not sequential.  Sad to say it never once occurred to me to ask, Why?  Why this way, God?  I just accepted the random directions & leadings of the Holy Spirit.  Rather like doing a jig~saw I always think.  You have all these various coloured bits & some straight edges & some joined together bits & you know what the finished picture should look like [more or less] but meanwhile you sit staring at the funny shapes that don't seem to fit anywhere at all [did someone muddle this puzzle up with another?], scowling at the bit that should fit but won't, moving other bits round 'cause maybe upside down is better ~ or sideways, even back~to~front starts looking more feasible than what you've got.

So some years ago now God started leaning on me with Romans 12:2 [And be not conformed to this world: but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.] He lent hard.  OK.  I'm a visual.  I'm the kid that read jam jar labels & the adds on trains for wont of anything else & sad to say, over the years, I've not been very discriminatory about what went into my head.  Do we get to jettison the trash at some point?  So I got this one.  I started self~censoring my reading material ~ & believe me this is no easy task because I still read whatever happens to be in my line of vision no matter what it is!  It's why I have so much trouble in church.  Always have, probably always will.  I get distracted by what I can see.  Oh, I can sit still.  I can bob up & down in all the right places.  I can make the right responses & sing along as need be but I would hardly call what I do worship.  The old mind is off on a whole 'nother tangent.  Like, wow, what a really ugly shade of orange that woman's dress is.  What was she thinking?...Cute kid....Look at those shoes!  How can she walk in them? Toupee ~ or not toupee? Doesn't she get giddy dancing around like that?  Gosh!  What if she falls over?  Bring the whole show to a crashing standstill....& so my thought thunder & crash for the entire hour.  No wonder I shut my eyes & shut the whole circus out.  No wonder I like silent worship.  It's such a relief!!!!

Which brings me, albeit in a very round~about fashion, back to the Sabbath, back to the festivals & somewhere along the way the ol' penny dropped & I felt it hit bottom because I am tired of hearing, "God looks on the heart" to justify things I'm pretty certain God don't approve of.  I'm tired of hearing Grace ~ without accountability.  I'm just tired of the free~for~all ~one~size~fits~all~God~loves~you version of Christianity because we are priests....priests!  The Spirit in us is all that stays God's hand because for the sake of one righteous man God spared Zoar ~ & we are made righteous through Christ.

....Coming back to the point.  So.  I was looking at the Sabbath & it struck me how observing, learning, from these OT traditions is renewing my mind.  They are training me to keep God at the centre of my entire life.  This is not theoretical.  This is not vaguely wishy~washy wishful thinking as I so often hear from Christians.  This is practical, step by step application.  The Hebrew names for the days of the week are a good example ~ & very Quakerish, which makes me giggle: Yom Reeshone [first day ~ from the Sabbath], Yom Shaynee [2nd day ~ from the Sabbath] ~ & so on.  The entire week revolves around the Sabbath, thus continually bringing one's mind, & thus one's heart, back to the idea of worship.  From Wednesday on the preparations for keeping the Sabbath are well under way because there is a good deal of preparation ~ which I am faaaar too lazy to engage in though if you are a hands on learner ~ perfect! Sunday through Tuesday is time to reflect on the last Sabbath; Wednesday on one is planning & thinking forward to the new Sabbath.  The Sabbath is for rest.  It is for family & celebration & the worship of God ~ & the end result is the circumcision of the heart, the removing of the heart of stone for God's heart of flesh.  God has not left us to founder haphazardly towards His truth.  He has not left us to rely haphazardly on man~made institutions of State & Church.  He's shown us!  Here are the tools, He says, Use these.

And having said all that we are not keeping the Sabbath this week.  I am taking Star into a rehearsal because the child is spending Saturday workshopping with the King's Singers. [sigh]  My heart might be in the right place but my obedience isn't.  Not this week.  Good thing we are not bound Ixion like to the wheel of the Law.  Just the same I am sad.  There is such peace & anticipation ~ & Blessing ~ that comes from walking in the God ordained ways.

One, rosella, two roseela, three rosella, more....

Eye of newt, and toe of frog,

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,--

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble." ~ Macbeth

 Rosella is a bird; a red & blue bird, familiar to a whole generation of Australian children as the logo for soup ~ tomato generally.  They live high in the tree tops, feed on the gum blossom, nest in the hollows in trees & make an abominable screeching as they come in to roost at night.  As a general thing I'm not overly fond of any of the parrot family.  They are noisy & quarrelsome & quite aggressive but just the same the idea of turning them into jam was not an idea that had ever crossed my slightly haywired brain!

When we first moved to the island we received an invitation, a rather special invitation, to morning tea at The Farm.  The Farm is situated halfway down the island, perched high on the hill, the road cutting away below, the dark green of avocado leaves spreading like an undulating sea to the very edge of the swamp.  Between the avocados & the ancient house lay the garden, an old fashioned, straggling, riotous garden full of exotic & native plants & the pride of the island.  We had heard so much about The Garden, & been told so often how rare it was for invitations to view it to be issued, we were a little in awe because it was  the garden we had come to see.  It is my sort of garden.  The beds are deep, the fragile flowers shyly peeking out from under a tangle of bushes, big old trees waving their gay flags in the breeze, birdbaths full of tepid water, lichened stones & meandering pathways but not much grass.  Grass should be banned in this country.

We dutifully meandered.  We ooohed & we ahhhed & we exclaimed.  We discussed the merits of this & that & eventually happily accepted an invitation to stay for morning tea.  I was sorry almost as soon as we'd agreed.  Apologising profusely our hostess told us it was only scones & Rosella jam!!!!  My mind boggled.  I seriously envisioned something full of feathered bits  & hollow bones, bits of beak, brazen eyeball ~ eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat, adders fork & blind worm's sting.  I was feeling a little unhinged to say the least.

My look must have said it all, though being a well brought up child I was politely spreading jam sparingly on my scone because it looked just like big gooey globs of clotted blood & I was just hoping I wouldn't gag in the wrong place & give myself away completely.

 Rosella is a bush.  It is one of the edible hibiscus, an introduced species, & commonly grown throughout the northern states.  As a Sydney girl I'd never heard of it though both my parents are Queenslanders & had certainly eaten it before.  Not being much of a jam eater I guess I missed this one somewhere along the track.

Rosella is a jam. It tastes red & not in the least bit like bird.



"After scolding one's cat one looks into its face and is seized by the ugly suspicion that it understood every word. And has filed it for reference."~ Charlotte Gray

The boys are missing me.  I arrive home & the heads pop up like Nessie's, their small bodies quivering with anticipation;  Will she notice me?  Will she come & say hello & chuck me under the chin?  Will there be biscuits in my bowl & will she check to see we have water?

Then the purring begins: deep, volcanic rumblings that shake the chairs & shiver the timbers.  Marlow flips onto his back, spreading himself like a squirmy  hairy rug & when I move he comes too, dogging my footsteps, more canine than cat, happiness oozing from every pore. 

Kiby is not so outwardly needy.  He is often outside & outside he stays, his head raised in anticipation, his ears pricked, but having received his Hello, Puss, he calmly resumes his catty business~ but do not be fooled!  Marlow is a little dense.  He is as easy to read as a child's primer ~ & as straightforward.  Kirby is smart.  And complicated.  Kirby takes nothing for granted so it is Kirby I often have to look for at night, never far away but not in plain view because, You have been gone all day! his accusing stare says.  Do you still love me?  Will you come & find me?  Will you cuddle me to bed as usual?  It is Kirby who needs more reassurance because he has spent all day thinking dire thoughts.  I have to love on him hard as he crawls all over me, desperate to claim me as his own personal property.  Dearest swears he has become a cat psychiatrist from years of observing psychotic cat behaviour.

God was very wise when He gave us animals.  They teach us about unconditional love.  They give us an insight into the wildness tamed.  We love the tiger better for knowing a cat.  No matter how difficult my day has been there is something very soothing about coming home to be cuddled by a cat.  There are a lot of things that need to be done but in the light of eternity very little else matters besides the giving & receiving of love.  My cats make sure I don't forget it!

Reflections on the Sabbath

Anybody can observe the Sabbath, but making it holy surely takes the rest of the week. ~ Alice Walker
Sometimes [often] stuff the lord lays on my heart sits there....& sits there. There needs to be a shift in my thinking before I can move forward.   It is like that with the Sabbath.


I can get hooked on technicalities.  They really bug me & Sunday is one of those things because dance around it all you like Sunday is not the Sabbath & the whole shift from Saturday to Sunday worship was instigated by the Catholic church for their own purposes ~  which is all well & good & I am not saying Sunday worship is bad or wrong; just it's not the Sabbath.  The Sabbath is the seventh day.  Sunday is the first.

I got here years ago but if you want to worship with others you are pretty much tied to what the majority believe/practise/impose & so jiggity~jog, I trotted along with the rest but bugged because why were we doing this?  Besides Dearest had no problem with Sunday worship ~ which brings me to the other thing: mostly, not always but mostly, I arrive somewhere in the spiritual realms waaay before the men in my life decide I might actually have  point & deign to join me!

Last time I can remember blogging about the Sabbath I was still pretty much beating a one~woman drum. No~one, & I mean no~one, else in my house was interested.  That has been gradually changing & so I have been studying again because I can't emphasis enough this is not about being legalistic ~ or Jewish [because we're not!] ~ or anything at all except getting New Testament insights from Old Testament scriptures.  It's about knowing God better.  About understanding what goes on in the heart of God.

One of the things I have learnt from all this is that the Jews are incredibly smart.  Did you know that if you add sugar to the amniotic fluid a baby sucks faster?  So Jewish teaching, as they get if from God, is always sweet.  Scratching your heads yet?  I have yet to run into a Jewish festival that does not revolve around having a wow of a time!  Good food.  Good company.  Family.  Friends.  Party games.  Music.  Things are structured to build anticipation & suspense.  This has been coming home strongly this week because I have been on the mainland so much & eating sparingly because of all the sitting around.  I have made healthy choices: apples, grapes, water, nut bars.  I got up this morning craving a Snickers ~ all that caramel, nuts & chocolate for breakfast.  If I could have got my hands on one that's what I would have had!  Luckily for me the shops were not yet open!

Since my fast I have found my almost insatiable craving for sweet things greatly reduced & I want to keep it that way!  But celebrations are not times to deprive ourselves of treats & so in thinking about & planning a Sabbath celebration I know that once a week I can indulge that sweet tooth of mine!  You have no idea how much more that is making me appreciate the Sabbath!!!  Oh yeah, baby!

There are other things that speak deeply to my heart.  The Sabbath is rooted in the family ~ & it is pretty much the only festival where a woman is nominated to lead.  There is lots about the symbolism & the circular motion of the Sabbath ritual I want to discuss but I will save that for another time. What I am amazed by is the shift in my thinking from such small beginnings.  I sense the work of the Holy Spirit sifting through my thoughts because His is the work of pointing us always towards Jesus & this is how my thoughts are turning.  In my head I am planning our Sabbath while I wait at college for Dino to be done for the day.  I am thinking how every Saturday evening Jesus too would have come in at the close of his day, washed, changed his clothing, waited for Mary to light the candles & pronounce the blessing to eat & drink to the glory of God. Joseph would have blessed the children round his table one by one.  They would have read the familiar scriptures...& because I am first & foremost a student of literature the symbols come tumbling through my head, each one rich with layers of meaning, going down deep into the things of God & gratitude wells up.       I am always profoundly moved at how even small steps in obedience & faith reap such marvellous rewards.  My carnal nature is on Raspberry Pots....

Peter was a fisherman.  Jesus made him a fisher of men.  I have always had a soft spot for Peter.  He suffered from foot in mouth & I so know that feeling.  I own fishermen.  Nothing stinks quite like a man who has spent a day on the water casting his line after the fishy things that live beneath the deep blue surface.  Fisherman are strong.  At their core they hunger for the peace that comes from long stretches of time spent waiting for the gentle tug on the line that says the bait is doing what it was meant to do ~ attract fish.

I find it fascinating that when Jesus went looking for disciples he didn't troll the schools after the educated ~ & a well educated Jewish man is educated indeed!  Nope he dangled bait before fishermen.

  There are certain things I know about fishing from living with fishermen.  I know that sometimes you are going to catch nothing, no matter how well baited your line is.  I know that certain bait attracts certain fish but that just putting any old bait out is not going to attract everything in the water.  I know that bait is going to attract the odd shark or two.  I know that patience is a virtue.  I know that sometimes you can do everything wrong yet still catch fish.  Sometime I will tell you about the fish I caught when I wasn't there & didn't have a line in the water!!

I am not a fisherman ~or woman.  I never see why some poor little thing that never did me any harm should give up it's life so I could eat & those restaurants where your meal is left swimming around in a tank until it's wanted plain do my head in.  That is just plain disgusting!  What sort of sadist does that?

Needless to say I am not much good at fishing after men either.  I don't have the right mindset.  That my children operate so differently & have no qualms about bailing people up & presenting the gospel is an absolute marvel.  So I have been very interested in how Dino is doing with his course.  I am hanging round on the fringes as Dino is yet to go for his licence & was allowed to sit in on his first day's classes because people still want to know why I'm not doing this course.  I have a pretty good idea why not.  It is very practical [& we all know I'm not]  It is geared to get people into a  practical ministry of *Helps* ~ so not my area.  I do have a ministry of sorts, working strongly in my gift area & I'm not real keen on being dug out to operate outside my comfort zone ~ certainly not just now with Star also on the mainland 3 days a week for music: a private lesson & now a 2nd choir.  There are issues with this now too & I am spending whole days just waiting around & leaving Star alone with her work.  She is not a happy bunny.

So far I have been really happy with the way Rhema is presenting things.  It is very clear, very balanced.  Dino is able to explain what he's learning concisely so they are doing a good job of their training.  It is also very disciplined.  They have a dress code!!!!  They have a lock~out; echos of Star's performance schedule.  They have everyone involved in small helps to run the classes ~ & this 10 month course is, apparently, equal to sitting in church every Sunday for 13 years!!!!

Meanwhile Star is gearing up for auditions with The Kings Singers.  Not sure what is going on there yet but no doubt time will clarify things.  All I know is that I live on the wrong side of the water just now & I am sooo over the mainland!

Seven Sons.

"Mother's of Boys work from Son up to Son down." ~ Anon



Church made an indelible impression on me this morning.  The preacher shared from his own life experience.  Every Sunday his parents took him to church.  They sat in the front pew: Mum, Dad ~ & their seven sons!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seven.  Sons.  If you have sons you know why my mind is boggling slightly.  Can you imagine?

I have no idea what else he preached on.  I'm still dealing with seven. sons!!!!!!  Oh. My.  Seven.  Sons....

Second one down...

“I have come to know a God who has a soft spot for rebels, who recruits people like the adulterer David, the whiner Jeremiah, the traitor Peter, and the human-rights abuser Saul of Tarsus. I have come to know a God whose Son made prodigals the heroes of his stories and the trophies of his ministry.” ~Philip Yancey



 I'm not even enrolled but I was up at first light this morning & headed out to Rhema so Dino could enrol in his course.  I have had a lot of practise at sitting around waiting thanks to Star.  I had my book [Froi of the Exiles ~ c/~ of Star but I am not recommending it as it is quite graphic in places & definitely for older, mature readers]; I had my laptop.  I had food & water & I was hoping it would be cool enough for me to sit in the car & wait it out.  It wasn't & I didn't.

It was muggy as, so I lugged my water & my book to sit on top of the hill under the trees where there was a little breeze, a great view & it was somewhat cooler.  I lasted about 20 minutes before the ants found me.  I cannot abide ants so I went & sat in the foyer in the air conditioning & happily submerged.  I can stay submerged indefinitely but Rhema is more than a little weird.  Good weird but weird just the same.  A steady stream of people found me & began chatting.  If I found someone with their nose in an 8" thick book I would assume they were a bibliophile & leave them to it.  Obviously the people at Rhema do not feel that way about people with their noses in an 8" thick book.  Apparently Dino is wonderful.  Not arguing that one.  Apparently I should be doing this course.  This one is seriously weird because that's 3 times now I've been told this & the first time the woman moved Dearest aside so she could get to me & demand to know why I wasn't doing this course.

Now we've only really been in this place twice before which may strike some of you as odd that we moved so quickly on Dino getting into college here.  No idea how others discern the Spirit's leading but I had that deep sense of peace & *rightness* that makes me sure we're on track even though I am still fairly cautious on other matters.  Besides the Lord confirmed it because Dino had to come up with all the money in just under a fortnight & the Lord left Him hanging till the 59th minute of the 11th hour ~ just like He did with Liddy because learning to trust the Lord's leading is lesson number one!

I am probably being a little more blond than usual but I have no idea what the Lord was trying to get through to me.  I just know that my jaw was pretty much scraping along the floor with the last lady, who was incredibly lovely & chatty enough that I didn't have to strain my brain ~ & as so often happens to me when it's the Lord's conversation anyway she hit on things I feel strongly about one after another: End Times: Israel; Fasting; Gathering in the Harvest....Prophecy.  I think the Lord's suggesting this is somewhere I can get some answers & grow because this woman couldn't possibly have known the sort of things the Lord has been placing on my heart or how He has been leading for the last few years but the Lord's got her there too!

Then Dino arrived lugging this big box of books that he dumped in my lap & the pair of us promptly began rifling through it to see what sort of treasure we had.  I have already snavelled two.  Some I won't touch.  I'm not much use in the Helps department & frankly no~one in their right mind would ask me to *help* with anything.  Seriously.  I've been known to starve guests because it has not occurred to me it's meal time & people might, just conceivably, be hungry.

Now this is not theological college.  The emphasis is very much on the practicalities of the Christian life.  It's not about putting preachers in pulpits; it's about bringing in the harvest.  This is exactly where Dino's head space has been so a perfect fit.  Everything learnt in the classroom then gets practice *out in the field*!  Dino is one of my *hands on* learners so once again a perfect fit.

I am exhausted.  Nighty~night.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Give me your thunks...

The fact that most people don't believe in hell doesn't mean they won't end up there. ~ Cliffe Knechtle

Do you believe in the doctrine of Hell? 

 Please produce your evidence.  From the scriptures explain what you believe Hell to be ~ the word itself can't be found in scripture & the words translated as *hell* have pretty literal meanings.  In this instance the KJV has done us no favours!

Muchos Gratias, peoples.

Do you ever feel inadequate at life?  I mean the world is full of amazing people & me, I can't even fry fish.  Not that I want to learn or anything but there's all the rest of it.  Stuff I reckon I should have figured out by now like how to raise kids to the glory of God.  Heck, just knowing how to raise kids would be good.  People have written books on this stuff & I get google eyed.  I read this stuff & go, Really?  This works?  Then I think about my kids & go, Nah.  Never going to happen. 
It's pathetic, really it is.  Take evangelism.  For someone who talks so much I have never figured this one out.  How do you do it?  I've seen it done.  I've had it done to me & I'm always like, Come again?  What was that all about?  And church.  I am really, really bad at doing church.  I see people heading my way & the spoilt brat inside starts screaming. Nooooooo. Please, please don't talk to me.  Find someone else to pester & I never, ever know what to say to these people.  Maybe it's because I don't do well with small talk.  I'm always a little vague about things like the price of eggs in the fish market on Fridays.  I do slightly better  with things like Happy Easter if the other person copes well with a response about Eostre & the sun symbolism in the Basilica.  I should just respond, Happy Easter & leave it at that, shouldn't I?  So why don't I?

Consequentially I treasure my friendships.  Anyone willing to put up with my idiosyncrasies has a spot in my heart.  So when I noticed my friend's posts were drifting further from Christianity & into Neo~Paganism I didn't say anything.  Not my business.  My liking or not liking her is not dependant on what she believes.  I felt no imperative to point out the error of her ways.  I never noticed Christians ever being able to change anyone's mind for them.  That's the prerogative of the Holy Spirit.  I know she's heard the gospel & so I kept my mouth firmly shut.  Yeah, I know all the arguments ~ but please!  wasted effort to go over old ground.

Then my friend decided to 'fess up.  Not sure why given she's pretty much lost all her Christian friends over this issue.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have risked that & it's not like she didn't know where I stand.  Now she has decided I am a good person to discuss religion with & I'm like, Whoa!!!  Are you sure you want to go here with me?  Because I do actually know something about Paganism.  Remember history is my thing but I don't do politics.  If you are into history but not politics what's left is culture & religion.  I do both those.

How did I get here? And now what do I do?  Because there is only one thing I know of that can change my friend's mind: a personal encounter with the Living God; the God of Abraham &  Issac & Jacob.  I can muster all my logic & all my apologetics & all the proofs at my disposal & it will never lead anyone into the Truth.  One touch from the Living God & all that changes.  In an instant.

Some days I feel like a toad who has lost his harrow.  Some days I don't do life well.  Like today. Maybe I'll just go back to bed & have a nice long nap.  Maybe things will look better tomorrow.  Maybe.