It’s always dangerous to write a blog post that involves the letters LGBTQIA , but moreso on a lazy Friday evening after a big feed and when you’re feeling gnarly , But let’s take the risk and live dangerously.

I sat down to watch the news this evening and the lead story concerned the opinions on sexuality – specifically LGBTQIA – of an ex tennis world champion, turned Pentecostal pastor. Apparently this is the biggest of news in WA at the moment. Margaret Court happens to take a pretty straight line on how she reads the Bible in relation to sexuality and she preaches it like that. You kinda have to, if you believe it. I haven’t discussed her views with her, but I suspect we would probably be quite similar.

But over the years this view has become abhorrent, despicable and even ‘disgusting’, was the word Daniel Andrews used – so much so that we should not award an Australia day honour to such a person.

Really?…

What have we become as a society that we believe in freedom of speech, so long as it conforms to the socio-political norms of the day? This is a huge backward step for an open democratic society – and we have been on this PC trajectory for some time now.

In a country that apparently respects freedom of speech, what’s despicable, abhorrent and disgusting are people who single out one or two prominent people and seek to use them to prevent freedom of speech as well as pitching their own toxic message to the broader community.

I suspect Steve McAlpine’s new book “Being the Bad Guys”, speaks directly to this issue – that Christians have gone being somewhat nerdy and oh so lame, to now being a genuine danger to society. Really? Us?…

With our fundamentalist perspectives on sexuality we really do not belong in this enlightened and progressive age. And because you don’t belong we will shut you down and demean you publicly so that others who share that view will be quiet – or maybe even be swayed to change and ‘get with the program’.

I have no problem with people critiquing my perspective on sexuality, which I believe is based (as much as I am able to do so) on the words of the Bible. I am open to the fact that I could be wrong. Perhaps God has created people of all sorts of sexualities, and the Bible is culturally bound etc.

But I don’t read the Bible that way. I can’t just change a conviction to fit into my culture.

I wish I could because then I’d be a ‘likeable Christian’, not one of ‘those types’. But I am one of those types in some way – and I’m happy to put my views up here, not because I am particularly proud of them, or because I want to hurt LGBTQIA people, but simply because I hold them and there is nothing wrong with that

Repeat after me Australia – there is nothing wrong with holding a contrary opinion.

There is no such thing as free speech and respect for diversity – with the exception of Christians. The demand is that we conform or be punished in some way. Perhaps we need ‘re-educating’ – are there camps for that sort of thing?… Maybe we could ask some of our northern Asian neighbours for some advice?

If everyone is entitled to having their point of view permitted and respected, then that means everyone… e v e r y o n e!

This is not a post about what is right or wrong with our perspectives on sexuality. Rather its a post pointing out the total incongruities of those who demand conformity from Christians, but freedom for everyone else.

You can’t have your cake and eat it. Speech is either free or its not…

If you want to make a comment then go ahead, but I won’t be getting into a debate on the rights or wrongs of sexuality. As I mentioned before this is not about sexuality, but about a progressive western culture demanding its people conform and either get with the programme on this one issue, or expect sanctions and punishments.

Over the last couple of weeks my son Sam, has been picking up some retic jobs on his own and fixing things without me around.

On Thursday this week just after we’d had lunch at home and were about to head back down Marmion Ave to the suburbs, the phone rang and a lady in Yanchep needed a solenoid located and replaced.

‘You want this one?’ I said. ‘I can sort the others out.’

‘Sure’ said Sam. His hourly rate goes up if he works on his own, so it was a no brainer. The job was to locate a solenoid and replace it. He’d make the same money as if he came with me but he’d be finished early and able to surf.

We went our separate ways and he called me after an hour a little frustrated that he hadn’t found the solenoid. We discussed what he had tried and I offered a few ideas for what he could do differently.

He pushed on and after another 45 minutes he called to say he still hadn’t found it. The cost to the client was mounting up and no result…I could hear the anxiety and confusion in his voice. What do I do?…I know that feeling all too well. I have dug up many a yard searching for ellusive valves.

‘Do you want me to come and help?’ I asked.

‘No. No – I really should be able to sort this out on my own,’ he said staunchly.

Good answer. I felt quite proud that after nearly 2 hours he rejected my offer of help. And he was absolutely correct. He should be able to find it on his own. But some times that is easier said than done.

About half an hour later I had finished for the day, so I swung by to see how he was going.

‘No further on he said.’ I saw numerous piles of sand and dirt and pavers where he had tried to trace the wires to find the valves. No one knows that feeling of desperation and frustration like another retic bloke! An afternoon surf was looking less likely now.

I followed his logic and his way of looking for the valves and it made sense. But so far – no result.

I grabbed the solenoid detector and went for a quick walk across the front lawn, just in case he had missed something and instantly the detector started beeping. I had stumbled on them in less than a minute. A little bit of experience combined with a touch of hunch.

‘Ok – all yours,’ I said and I hopped in the car and went home.

About 30 minutes later the phone rang and it was Sam. He had fixed the valve but now another one was stuck open.

‘This is crazy dad! At this rate I’ll be here to 7 o’clock,’ he said.

‘Want some help?’ I haven’t showered yet.

He paused. ‘No – I should be able to do this I want to do this.’

It was a brave answer late in the day on a 38 degree afternoon. I decided not to shower just in case…

He pushed on and replaced the valve – but it failed on him. The new valve let water thru.

He called for advice.

‘Want help? I can be there in 2 minutes.’

‘No.’

‘I still haven’t made it to the shower…’

‘Go have a shower. I will work it out.’

He did. He had left the spring out of the solenoid and he spotted it shortly after. An easy mistake to make when you’re hot and weary. He got those 2 valves working and then as he was testing the system another one failed. What are the chances?’

You know those moments when you’ve given all you’ve got and you’ve made good progress, but then it all turns to custard? When you have just had enough?

Yeah – that.

There are few things in life as valuable as the will to keep going even when you really want to quit.

How do you learn this particular character trait?

You learn perseverance by persevering. If you quit early, or quit too soon you then you become good at quitting. You learn how to quit. Your character weakens. If you tough it out, then you actually develop inner resolve and fortitude. In writing of this suffering for the faith Paul says:

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.

Romans 5:3-4

You build character as you practice grit and determination – as you refuse to quit.

He didn’t call this time. He just kept going. And going…

At 6.00pm I heard the throaty exhaust of his Navara drive up the road. He was earlier than I expected. Maybe he’s quit for the night and he’s going to go back, I thought.

Sometimes a break enables you to problem solve better than just keeping going. I had encouraged him to consider just letting it go for a day or two, but he was intent on finishing.

He wanted to do it and he kept going.

As he came up the steps it was with an unexpected spring rather than a stomp and as I caught his eye there was a smile on his face.

‘All done,’ he said.

‘Well done mate. Proud of you!’ And I was – super proud. He had found the other solenoid, replaced it, cleaned up and finished the job. There was some eye fillet steak and prawns awaiting him for dinner.

We charged the client a lot less than our hourly rate as he had spent the first two hours ‘learning’. But that is learning he won’t forget quickly. And the value of perseverance will stay with him for a long time.

Sometimes the only way thru is to keep going – to refuse to let your discouragement and struggle get the better of you.

And yes – I realise that’s easier said than done, but I also know many people ‘quit too soon’.

Sometimes you just have to keep going and going and going…

So, maybe you need to hear this post. Maybe your marriage is ‘too hard’, or your job is getting you down, or life itself is just giving you the irrit and you’re considering checking out.

You can quit- or you can push on. If you quit then you learn to quit. Do it often enough and you will be a skilled quitter – you won’t even realise you are doing it. But if you persevere and stay the course – if you ride out the discouragement and frustration then you will learn perseverance- which builds character and subsequently hope.

So – Well done my son for not quitting – but sticking with it and learning the value of perseverance. May this lesson serve you well as you go thru life.

Over the last 10 years I’ve been to Ted’s house a few times to fix his retic. He’s a retired carpenter, now 81 years old and up until I saw him yesterday he was a fit, strong man with an aging Hilux and a half cab boat for pulling his cray-pots.

I like Ted. He’s your very down to earth, Aussie bloke who calls a spade a spade and never allows a sentence to pass without an expletive. He always wants to pay cash even though he knows there is no such thing as a ‘cashie’ for us. He doesn’t get a discount, but he’s from that era. The deal is done when the ‘real’ money changes hands.

So when I knocked on his door yesterday I was taken aback, as I didn’t recognise the man who opened the door. Ted was a rugged 85kgs last time I saw him – a fair bit of it muscle and the rest beer.

‘Will you take a look at me?’ are the very first words he says.

‘How you goin mate?’ I ask. ‘What’s the deal?’ His eyes are bloodshot and he’s skinny.

‘F*ckin cancer,’ he says. ‘They cut out me f*ckin stomach and I can’t eat a decent meal. I’m just wastin away. All this baby food mashed shit…’

‘Not good.’ I reply.

He tells a bit of the story. In between expletives, I make out that he is putting his house in order because there isn’t long to go. (Better get those sprinklers fixed so its one less thing for Mrs Ted to worry about.)

‘I guess we all have to die some time. You’ve got 300 thousand ks on the clock – you’ve done pretty well mate!’ I say to him. Sam thinks this is a bit too blunt, but Ted speaks ‘blunt’ natively. It’s not offensive to him.

He heads inside and we wander around and fix his sprinklers. It’s a quick half hour job and when we are all done and showing him the result we get chatting. I never hesitate to ask dying people how they feel about their impending exit.

‘How you feeling about dying?’ I ask him. We both know he isn’t gonna make a comeback.

‘Its a bit shitty, but we all gotta go some time. It is what it is.’ he says. And I think he means it. ‘I’ve had a good innings so no complaints. I just don’t want to hang around in this f*ckin state.’

‘Fair enough.’ I say, ‘I wouldn’t want to either. ‘What do you think happens when you die?’ I ask. It’s not an ‘evangelism strategy’. I want to know what he thinks. I want to get inside the head of a man who is facing death and hear his thoughts.

‘Back to dirt’ he says. ‘Nothin. It’s over.’

‘Really? There is nothing more to life than that?’ I ask.

‘Not to me,’ he says roughly. ‘The family were all bloody Jehovahs but I’m not into that shit.’

‘Ok, fair enough,’ I say.

He rattles on a bit and then I get the sense to offer to pray for him. I wonder if behind the gnarly exterior there might not be at least a little fear.

‘Look I’m a Christian, Would you like me to pray for you?’

‘Yeah – I would,’ he says – a bit to my surprise. So I put a hand on his shoulder, look him in the eye and I pray for him. I pray he will have courage to face the end. That his final days will be full of joy and that he will get to know the God who loves him.

I say ‘amen’ and he nods. He thanks me, shakes my hand with his strong, gnarly carpenter hands. He gives me the cash and we say ‘goodbye’ – but it’s with a bizarre sense of knowing that it’s a final goodbye. He grabs a business card ‘for the wife’, just before I leave. ‘She’ll need to know who to call.’

He’s just a client and I don’t know him that well at all, but I drive off a bit misty eyed as i realise that one day very soon Ted will be gone and the next time I go to that house there will be a conversation with Mrs Ted about what its like to be a widow – to live alone and to be without her man.

God bless Ted – and Mrs Ted.

Grey nomads are everywhere. 

Since COVID there seems to be more and more of them. These lucky people have either downsized, or sold the family home, bought the luxury caravan and 4WD and are now living the dream. Each day they wake up and wonder ‘where to next?’

I am sure it’s not everyone’s goal, but in Australian popular culture it’s right up there as a high ranking middle class aspiration. If you prefer to stay put, then creating the home of your dreams may be the ‘next step’ in this life we live. If you have paid off house no 1, 2 or 3 then house no 4 will be THE ONE!

Triple oversized garage, in house elevator, and all of the other creature comforts that you are now entitled to and will need for your aging frame and increasing array of toys.

Aspirational living has infected all of us – Christians or not – and the real challenge is that its not all bad. If it were we’d still be living in a 2 bedroom flat in Glendalough and driving a Datsun 1600… (I loved that car…)

Innately I feel a drift towards this kind of life. I have been conditioned this way for so long that it feels like just the next step in a 21^st C middle class life. And as much as I want to live differently I know I am hopelessly compromised. I’m infected with the ‘affluenza’ virus just like everyone else. And this stage of life is its chance to really go wild.

So then, what does it look like to ‘finish well’ – to enter the final quarter in front?

If the ‘final quarter’ kicks in around 70ish then I sense it means entering those years with a joyful, gracious and generous spirit. It means being someone who laughs easily and often as well as someone who is able to nestle in with a coffee and have a long conversation – even a hard conversation.

In those years I want to be both knowledgeable and teachable, to be able to both offer wisdom and glean insight from the many who will be younger than me. To stop learning or being curious would be a backward step.

Part of being able to do that is ‘positioning’ so that I am still in conversation with people younger than me and people who see the world different to me. A serious down side of aging that I have seen in so many, is a rigidity of thinking and a sharpness of tone in those conversations that are challenging or disturbing.

I hope I am still able to listen to someone with a different perspective and inquire ‘why they think they way they do’ rather than simply feeling the need to set them straight or to distance myself from them. That will allow conversation and learning rather than a silent cuff behind the ear that says ‘get back in line’.

I love those older people who are still able to hear me share ‘dangerous thoughts’ and not flip a circuit breaker. I feel free to think experimentally and to explore ideas that might scare other people or have them question my sincerity of faith. I also love those older people for whom the reality & conviction of their faith is still as potent today as it was in the early days – all the ‘joy of the Lord’ but without the sharp edges of early faith that tends to damage those who come near. I want that too.

I’d really like to travel, explore some new vocational options, have grandkids, enjoy great food and coffee, live out my days by the ocean… I think these are good things too. I sense the struggle in this phase will be between the lure of indulgence – the pursuit of which can form a malignant self centredness and continuing to be formed in Christlikeness by whatever our world throws at us.

I have some fresh ideas as to the shape I’d like my/our lives to take in the next 20 years and if it does head in the direction I hope then I sense we will have an opportunity to be generous with our time and our learning in the various communities we are part of. But I say that tentatively because, as we are currently learning, the responsibility of caring for aging parents is now on us and our own hopes and dreams may just need to find a way to grow up around this priority – or not at all.

Or not at all.

As Danelle and I spoke of what the next 10 years holds, I had some clear vocational shifts I wanted to make. She spoke of seeing a period of caring for the oldies as a top priority. Honestly – this hadn’t registered on the ‘to do list’ for me at all. It wasn’t in my line of sight. But recently dad had a stroke – a mild one as it turns out and because mum has increasing dementia we have had to do more caring for them. A holiday was cancelled and the long service leave we have anticipated for a few years now is looking iffy.

But I love how Danelle framed this last month; as a ‘beautiful inconvenience’. As it began I realised that we this was one of those opportunities to become the people we want to be – or to become ‘those other people’. Gnarly, frustrated and tetchy because life hasn’t dealt us the hand we wanted.

Don’t get me wrong. I hope to hitch up the caravan on April 1^st and hit the road for a really good 6 month break. But – maybe we won’t and if that happens then maybe how we deal with the ‘not going’ will be more formative and significant for our ‘third quarter’ than any grey nomading ever could be.

I’m trying to read a book at the moment that I am keen to absorb, but also finding very hard going. It’s called Come of Age by Stephen Jenkinson and it focuses on the much neglected subject of ‘eldering’ and the need for ‘elders’ in our society. I have enjoyed parts of it and found other parts convoluted and incomprehensible. But I like his thesis – that we need elders in this time who will not just be ‘older’ but who will be wise, accessible, grace filled and who will make it their business to give of themselves to those they are in community with.

I would like to be one of those people when I am 70 and my hope is to navigate the seductions of all this stage of life has to offer to actually become that person – and not one of ‘those people’.

There may be more to write on this, but that is all I have at this stage…

It’s been on me for a while now, but I haven’t known what to call it, or how to articulate it.

‘Middle aged’ has been and gone if that’s what the 40’s are and now I’m in my 50’s – later 50’s even. I am realising that life is shifting before my eyes and this is actually a most critical of times.

In football or basketball everyone knows that the third quarter is where the game is won or lost. It’s why we call it the ‘premiership quarter’. You get to half time ‘even’, or, maybe with some catching up to do – yet you are far enough from the end of play to not have to deal with it yet. You can pull it back from here… you think… Maybe you can turn the game around. You can also be 6 goals up, kicking with the breeze and lose. Third quarters are where teams either find their stride and move strongly towards victory or where they fizz, stumble and get waylaid.

Of course you can do that at any point in life. I understand that. But if you’ve made it this far in one piece, then chances are you face some significant choices about how the rest of this ‘game’ plays out.

What does victory look like?

How do you ‘finish well’ from the third quarter?

I feel like unless we can answer that question we will inevitably fall prey to the seductions of this period of life. We will fizz, tank, flounder, but it will all happen with a veneer of ‘livin the life’.

What seductions do I see?

Entitlement is one of them. We speak of ‘entitlement’ being present in millenials as if it’s their issue, but its one of the most significant temptations I feel myself in this time. I’ve worked hard for a long time and I ought to be reaping some of the benefits of those hard years… It’s time to slow down and let someone else do the heavy lifting.

As we approach long service leave in April I have told people that I am ‘cruising to the finish line’. I want to get there in one piece, rather than stumbling past the tape and in need of an ambulance. There’s wisdom in that for sure. But I also sense the temptation to keep that stride from here on when I get back from leave – to make this the ‘new normal’.

It’s time to enjoy life before old age strikes and takes away energy, mobility and maybe even faculty. Those ‘adventure before dementia’ stickers on the back of caravans are only partly joking. The core assumption is that this short period of 10-20 years is our (third quarter people’s) last chance at a full life before the bleak fourth quarter takes the wind out of our sails.

I think I know what ‘finishing well’ look likes. I’ve seen some folks whose lives I would want to emulate (but not many of them if I’m hones)t. I’ve seen plenty I want to avoid turning into.

But I get the very strong sense that the choices I make now will either form the structure for a strong and beautiful final quarter, or will set the tone for a period of regret and disappointment.

I’m actually struggling to write this post because I am so enmeshed in the actual ‘third quarter’ experience. I want to disentangle and articulate it, but without a neat bow and ribbon to make it all ok.

So I’ll pause there and do some more pondering, before I write some waffly platitudes.

Anyone else resonate with being in the ‘third quarter’?  

More to come when I can articulate it honestly…

You know its been a long time since writing on your blog when you have to go thru the ‘login’ screen!

The last few months have been a little ‘covid crazy’, which for tradies like myself means working our butts off as people with disposable incomes splurge it on their homes rather than on travel or other luxuries. I’m already 20% up on last years income and last year was a huge year for us! But I am also at that point where I am well and truly sick of people’s irrigation issues and I’m ready to down tools for a couple of weeks.

We were actually scheduled to take off on holidays last Friday, but my dad had a stroke a week or so before and ended up in hospital for 10 days. Dad was mum’s primary carer (she has developed dementia) so its been all hands on deck for the family while he was in hospital and also now that he is out, to make sure they are cared for and looked after. Danelle has stepped up into organising us for this which is a Godsend as she is so good at this stuff.

So the holiday got shelved and now we are in a kind of holding pattern giving help to the oldies and organising life around that priority. It’s not arduous or demanding as we love them and want the best for them – but it is constant. It’s been a sharp reminder that this stage of life is well and truly upon us. We signed some power of attorney and power of guardianship forms yesterday as we anticipate having to one day make some decisions on their behalf. The old man has so far dodged bowel cancer, a heart attack and now he got off very lightly with just minor memory loss after the stroke. What a run! While it’s been a heavy time, we are grateful for his significant recovery in such a short space of time as we know it could have been so much worse.

I spent yesterday with them and managed to finally get to the first draft stage of the book I have been writing on bivocational mission and ministry. It’s still rough, but it’s at a point now where I can go thru and refine and shape it into something good and valuable. There have been a couple of good books written on this subject, but also a lot that is fairly bland and uninspiring so I’m hopeful that my experiences over the last 30 years in this space will help form something both inspiring and informative. My observation is that ‘book writing’ is very different to blogging. I blog when the urge takes me and when I get a free moment, but ‘booking’ takes a level of discipline and slabs of time that are often difficult to find, especially at this time of year. That said I want to do more ‘booking’ in the next phase of life so I will simply need to make time.

I get the sense that the future looks like turning the dial down a little on ‘pastoring’ and turning it up on writing. I will also be trimming back my physical involvement in my business to create space to write. By this time next year I sense I will be pastoring less and as well as Sam working for me I hope to get one other person out and about fixing stuff while I lounge around at home and write books… I just made that sound a whole lot much cushy than it actually will be.

We still hope to take long service leave in April 2021 for 6 months, a trip I have been calling ‘covid chess’ as we won’t know where we are going until the day before and while we work with our ‘opponent’s next move’. Our hope is to head across to South Oz and down the Eyre Peninsula for a while, then into Vic, Tassie and up the NSW coast right thru to far north Queensland, but its all both covid and parent dependent. Dad seems to be recovering well so chances are we will be able to leave them, and after that it’s a question of working around border closures, quarantines and outbreaks. Still – these are first world problems and if we get ‘check-mated’ and stuck at home then I reckon I will get this book written a whole lot quicker.

I have 5 books I’d like to write over the next 10 years, but this is the one I currently have energy and passion for. What I have gleaned, particularly from the last 13 years, running a business and being a pastor has been really valuable and has led me to a place of wanting to push us to take the bivocational mode a whole lot more seriously than we ever have in the past. For most of my time as a pastor I viewed being bivo as being forced into a ‘second best’ option with the goal being full time in ministry asap. But I’m actually convinced that if pastors can create a workable and enjoyable bivo situation then both they and their churches will be healthier and more effective in their mission and in life in general.

I honestly can’t imagine going back to full time church leadership – which is not a stab at those who do it – but I love the focus that comes with being part time – I can only attend to a few things, and I have to do them well. There is also the level of community engagement that comes with having a small business – being with local people in their homes and getting to know a community better than I ever would as a pastor. There are other factors like the autonomy and flexibility that a business affords that I would find hard to pass up. ‘The Future is Bivocational’ is on its way…

That said, its been a while since I’ve got wet. Between poor surf conditions, heavy workload and then just not feeling like it when I get a day off there haven’t been many moments when I have enjoyed the ocean. I still drive by and take photos every day which I post on my yanchepbeaches365 Instagram and Facebook page. And this year I ‘published’ my second book – all pictures – of our local area and its beauty. Last year I published one just with my own images, but this year I invited a bunch of talented locals to contribute and the result has been fantastic. If you’re interested they sell for $30 or $15. The $30 is 8 inches, 80 pages and hardback, while for $15 you get 6 inches, 80 pages and softback. Once we cover costs the ‘profits’ got to support people in Bali who are currently living tough due to Covid.

2021 is coming… and I’m looking forward to some new challenges and experiences!

One of the things I do each morning is read either a chapter of Psalms or Proverbs and as I journal I write down the one verse that struck me or impacted me. Pretty simple, but after 20 chapters of Proverbs I hadn’t really sensed too much going on. Its like that sometimes with the Bible.

Then came the day we went to Lapa Restaurant, an amazing Brazilian affair where meat is the thing and there is heaps of it! Waiters come to your table with beautifully cooked meats and you can eat as much as you want… It’s both Hamo heaven and hell, because in situations like this my ‘labrador gene’ kicks in and I eat pretty much everything that turns up in front of me. I am prone to gluttony – one of the more socially acceptable sins – but a sin nevertheless – and I don’t say that tongue in cheek.

So on that very morning I sit down to read my chapter of Proverbs (23) and this is what I read…

Coincidence?…

I don’t think so. I sensed it was God just reminding me that I’m about to put temptation in my path and it may not end well. As it turned out we had a fantastic night out with friends at a great restaurant and I think I finished up just on the right side of gluttony. I was able to leave with no ill effects – unlike the ‘All you can eat’ Sam and I got stuck into at the Port Macquarie Bowls Club and left so full we could hardly move. I won’t be doing that again…

It was just the day before that I had another moment when the Proverb I read spoke directly to my life. I was at work when the phone rang and it was one of my clients, a man I had done some retic and turf for. He sounded worried and anxious and as he explained the situation he told me that his toilets weren’t working, he had called a plumber to sort things out and it seemed that my bobcat guy had hit the sewer inspection pipe with his bobcat and dumped a heap of sand and rocks into the pipe, literally blocking up everything.

He put the plumber on the phone who explained the situation. Basically the drain was full of rocks and he couldn’t get them out, and because of the location of the sewer relative to a retaining wall to get to the bottom of it they may need to dig down to where the inspection meets the drain – 2m deep. ‘It doesn’t look good mate,’ he said. ‘So I’d prepare for a decent sized bill.’

The client got back on the phone. ‘You guys have insurance for this stuff right?’

‘Yeah’ I said. ‘Don’t worry we will get it sorted. You just carry on and get it fixed one way or another.’

I went home and dug out my public liability policy only to read that any under-gound sewer, electrical or telecommunication pipes are not covered.

‘What?…’ What kinda dumbass policy is this anyway!?’

In that precise moment my dark side rose up and I began to think of how I could wriggle out of this now increasingly uncomfortable situation. It was the bobcat driver who hit the pipe – not me… I do put a disclaimer on all my quotes stating that if I hit something during work and it hasn’t been pointed out then no responsibility is taken, so I could just refer him to the ‘fine print’.

But who wants to do that hey?

I was baulking because I could saw a very expensive repair happening and it was going to land at my feet. I spoke to the bobcat guy who kindly offered to go halves – nice of him as I know he hasn’t got two pennies to rub together. But the question was how much? My bobcat guy said the last time this happened it was $2K.

I was wrestling with accepting that while my own fine print gave me a way out, I didn’t feel right about taking it. I’m more a ‘spirit of the law’ person than ‘letter’ but in this moment the ‘letter’ seemed to be pulling me.

The next morning as I opened my chapter of Proverbs it was to 22:1

“A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.”

Couldn’t get it much clearer than that could you? I had already told Peter not to worry – that we would work it out – even if my inner self was bobbing between acceptance and evasion. But that one verse summed it up perfectly.

No point in saving $1000 if everyone knows you’re a jerk…

I rang Peter the next day to see how they were getting on with the job. He told me the plumber had done all he could and now they were calling in a bloke with a super vac machine to try and suck everything out of the drain. He was gonna be $600 just for that service. He even sent me a picture… (below)

I was too busy to dwell on it, so I kept working.

I didn’t hear from Peter, but I was due at his house a few days later to reset his control box. I arrived and we chatted. I’d been there 10 minutes and still the sewer hadn’t been mentioned. Had he forgotten? I knew I hadn’t, so I just asked ‘So Peter how did the plumbing job work out? What do I owe you?’

‘Oh nothing mate – don’t worry!’ he said. ‘It was $1000 in the end but I’m just so happy to be able to poo again that I’m not concerned.’

I was taken back to say the least. ‘Nah come on’ I said. ‘Let’s at least share it.’ But he was insistent and firm. I accepted and thanked him for his generosity and kindness. I let Daryl the bobcat guy know who was relieved as he had sweating on it since the day.

So a gentle reminder from the Proverbs that who you are is more important than how much you have – but also a reminder to get a better insurance policy.

Like most pastors I have a ‘spam filter’, through which I eliminate useless or extraneous emails, information and meetings and as a bi-vocational pastor its even sharper – I don’t have much time to waste. Over the years that filter has got pretty sensitive so now when a person from ‘X’ organisation calls and asks to ‘catch up for a coffee’, I know there is likely more than coffee involved and their call / email goes through to ‘spam’ and I just decline the invitation. I throw some Christian organisation letters in the recycling as I walk back from the letter box. It feels rude at times, but there are only so many hours in the day and I’ve got stuff to do. ‘No thanks’

So when a text came in from what I consider a ‘promo guy’ at a Christian organisation I ‘sent him to spam’ by replying ‘Sure I live in Yanchep – want to come up for a coffee?’ That’s enough to cause some friends to think twice – so I figured he’d back away and suggest a phone call.

‘Arvo?’ came the reply.

‘1.30pm’ I suggested and we booked it in.

Ok… Surprised me there…

So today was Friday and my day had become messy, unproductive and frustrating. I wasn’t disciplined and I was getting distracted from what I needed to do. The morning was kinda wasted. Then he showed up and we got chatting.

He said he had heard my name and he wanted to get to know me. Now honestly… really honestly… I thought ‘yeah – sure – drop your brochures, give your pitch and ask for a preach at our churches’. You seem like a decent bloke, but you didn’t drive from Kwinana to Yanchep just to ‘get to know me’. Did you?

Or… Maybe he had.

It was starting to feel like that.

As the conversation went on we found ourselves immersed in some engaging and beautiful discussion about the church, our callings and God’s work in our lives and the world. My frustrating morning disappeared as we shared some rich and strong conversation.

I discovered I was becoming curious about him and his life… huh? I wasn’t expecting that. Except he had done such a good ‘job’ of being genuine that I realised he actually wasn’t spam. He was a Godsend into my day and a much needed kindred spirit to stir my own heart and help me focus again on the stuff that matters in life.

I found myself thinking ‘this bloke could preach any time in my church! He has some awesome ideas, passion and thinking. I’d love him to speak to our people’

He never did give me a pitch or drop any brochures or ask to preach. Instead he prayed with me and prayed for my son, Sam whose name he remembered after a 30 second intro.

Well done Amit – not that you got thru my filter – but for being a genuine bloke with an infectious passion for Jesus. You injected energy and joy into my day and I was the richer for our time together. I don’t often spend 2 hours with anyone but I’d happily meet again – might even drive down your way!

As an introvert I tend to arrive a little late at parties.

Arrive late – leave early – recharge… But this morning I showed up for a ‘party’ that first started around 30 years ago. I was in my early years of ministry when I made my first application for accreditation with the Baptist churches of WA. I sat the interviews, entered the accreditation stream, but then hit a roadblock in the form of a requirement that I spend a year studying Biblical Hebrew. I had just completed my first year of study, of which one unit was Greek – a subject I got an HD for and worked hard in, but also a subject that sucked time away from the other learning that I really wanted to do. I knew all the rationales for the study of biblical languages. I just didn’t agree with them and I was concerned that 2 of my 3 years of study would be preoccupied with studying subjects I saw as of lesser value, but of great demand.

I asked for an exemption from studying Hebrew and it was refused, so I simply dropped out of the accreditation process. The church I was in wasn’t concerned about it and I wasn’t overly concerned myself. It was my preference to just to throw myself into study and some really valuable learning, so that was the route I chose.

In the years to come my argument was that that if I apply for a job in a church or elsewhere and I get knocked back on the basis of my lack of accreditation then I’m applying for the wrong job with the wrong mob. I still believe that. If in any job discussions we get to arguing over my legitimacy as a Christian leader then we are probably bound for many more arguments down the line. Best to step away now.

So why jump in now, 30 years after it all began?

It began with an invitation. Would I be interested in considering accreditation?…

My first internal response was simply along the lines of ‘I haven’t needed it and I doubt it will be an issue in the final years of Christian leadership.’ And that is probably true.

But by the same token one of the things I have come to realise over the years is that this is ‘my crew’. Any time I get to thinking of moving churches or aligning with another denomination I just come back to the sense that the Baptists – for better or worse – are my people. And – for better or worse – I am one of them.

We are in this together in some way.

So as we discussed the process of accreditation it sounded very easy. Basically fill in some forms, ticks some boxes, a conversation / interview and then all done. There really wasn’t a reason not to, other than the knowledge that I would be putting myself under the authority of a group of people and agreeing to follow some of their requirements for PD and the like. I did ponder that for a while, but my perception of the requirements are that they are common sense and good practice – things I would likely do anyway – rather than an onerous imposition. I am also conscious that in this highly regulated and at times suffocating environment I may at some point be required to have some documentation that legitimises me. So perhaps it’s a useful thing to do too?…

‘Ok let’s do it.’ I said. It felt a bit like signing up to get my skipper’s ticket after I had already owned a boat for 3 years – a few scoots up the river – an hour of ‘be aware of this stuff’, sign some forms and all done. You can now officially do what you have been doing for ever!

As it turned out the process was significantly more laborious than I originally anticipated due to some unforeseen issues on my end that I needed to attend to. It took longer than expected and at times I found myself asking ‘is this worth it?’

It’s probably a difficult question to answer, but I guess I answered it affirmatively because I kept going. Why?… I think because something inside me said ‘this is a good thing’ and even though my own circumstances made it laborious I felt I should persevere.

So this morning I was accredited as a Baptist pastor in WA. Not much changes in my world. That’s simply how it is. It was nice to be affirmed in my calling by an external group of people, but I felt like I was also saying ‘I belong here.’ and ‘These are my people.’

Surprisingly as the service began I actually felt quite emotional. I knew we were going to be asked for a ‘2 minute testimony’ about our calling to ministry. I gave that 2 minute time absolutely no thought before the moment we arrived so in those first few minutes I found myself reflecting on how I came to be where I am now and what it is that God has called me to do and I was caught off guard with the emotion of it.

As I went up to stage I said to Danelle “I feel bizarrely emotional. Pray I won’t be a dick.’

She laughed.

But sometimes in the process of trying to synthesise information and experiences you come back to your true core identity and it can be both inspiring and overwhelming.

I shared that my calling to ministry began after a basketball / mission trip to the Philippines. I came home convinced I was going to be a sports missionary in the Philippines. As it turned out one of those things happened. I became a missionary – but I didn’t realise it for a long time. In my world missionaries did their thing overseas – not here in Oz.

The Philippines thing didn’t work out, but while I was at Bible College my home church were on the search for a youth pastor. I didn’t know much about pastoring, but I applied and got the job. I fumbled my way thru for 5 or 6 years before heading up to Lesmurdie.

It was in the interview for the Lesmurdie role that I was asked ‘so what is your calling Andrew?’ I don’t know that I had ever really thought that thru in great depth, so I answered off the cuff. I said ‘I want to be able to communicate the Christian faith to ordinary Australian people in ways they can understand’, and as I spoke the words struck me with force that I did not expect. I had just touched a nerve in my own heart.

I thought to myself ‘that’s it!’ I had never spoken those words before, but I have never forgotten them, and it has formed my calling and identity ever since. Alongside it now is the calling to lead and develop Christian communities that make sense to Australian people – that fit our culture and aren’t simply replicas of what we have seen in other places.

A few years later while in the same church – after around 10 years of pastoring – we had a prophet come to one of our staff meetings. I thought he was a bit off his trolley and wasn’t warming to him at all as we sat and chatted. I was enduring the afternoon as he sought to ‘prophesy over us’. He spoke to the other two pastors first and then when he came to me he said ‘I see a picture of a beach with many people lying on the beach and many people enjoying the water, but there are also people drowning. Many of the people on the beach and in the water don’t see the drowning people because they are too caught up with enjoying themselves, but you see them – you see those who are drowning and you want to rescue them.’

Bam… Nice one Mr wacky prophet – you just nailed me.

He captured what I was feeling in a way I hadn’t been able to describe. As I pondered this words it dawned on me that I had always struggled to be a ‘pastor’ – it had never felt like me. Happy churches that catered for themselves and pretended to do mission just made me angry. I saw the people outside and that was where my heart went naturally. I was a… a… ‘missionary?’ A missionary? Really?

Maybe I ‘heard right’ way back when it all started. I just got the location wrong.

From there came church planting, Forge, all sorts of missional adventures and experiments and of course this blog. It was the time in my life when I have never had as much energy and passon and even though the craziness has settled, what remains is a deep and lasting commitment to mission in Australia – to seeking to under this culture and connect the story of Jesus with ordinary people in ways that make sense and that resonate deeply. The from there to create churches that are not about ‘lazing on the beach’, but that are also concerned for those on the outer.

So 30 years on from where I began I am now official. – with certificate, card and new Bible.

Legit.

But a pastor?

Nah… A missionary? Oh yeah!