the Wet, the Wind and the Wild

Is it June already? It is now the eve of Shavuot - the giving of the Word, the release of the Spirit. A lamp to my feet, a guide to my path. O, where will I be, this time, next year?

I've been here in Sydney a while now. Lovely sun, sand, sea, when one gets it. Beauty in the grey faceless neighbourhoods. Joy in the mundane.

The old adage is true: one thing is constant around here - change. People have come, lived, loved, and left. Its happening all over again, and it looks set to continue. Friends, lives, community. Fragile, robust, seasonal, resilient. Why is it we so easily warm up to some, and yet find others so hard to dance with. Yet the shadow of the divine dance continues, drawing us, absorbing us into a holy perichoresis.

But for now, we dream in feeble shells, drawing out our hearts, hopes and aim, dreams and visions. Strangely familiar sights, familial smells fill our senses.

Its been a few more months, a few more visitors, a few more great dinners, a few more friends, a few more dreams, a few more feathers in the cap, a few more miles. Great drops of mercy, dew drops of grace. Strength for the day, and peace for the moment. New every morning, new each day. Different paradigms, though. Different parameters. Dogged, lusty sights always on the goal. Ever arriving, ever reaching, ever nearing.

Yet soon, in a few weeks, I'll be running around up through the nations again, first on conference call and then perhaps on the Father's business, hoping somehow to awaken a call, a dream, a quest. If you read this please keep me prayed for plans, purposes, provisions, priorities and peace! SYD-SIN-DBX-CDG-DXB-ALA-FRU-DYU-ALA-DXB-SIN-SYD

What are our dreams made of? Its been most fascinating, vivid ones I've been having lately. Of scientists, carparks, exquisite veggies, rabbits on skateboards, church camps, old friends, five-dimensional time-space (ask me about that one!).

Wake me up when spring arrives!