Last Friday we woke up to a 13deg morning and it was wonderful. The weekend too was gorgeous as the sunny and blue skies against a warm 23deg peak made for a near summer like day. So, when it “plummeted” back to just under 6deg this morning, the chill felt sharper. Last night too it was around 8deg so I guess it pretty much stayed that way in the last 12 hours or so. That’s all fine by me as I don’t mind the cold at all, especially when at 5.30 this morning, I could already see the day lighting up. It’s the short days I don’t like about winter, not the cold.

With Scruffy however, it’s a different story. He was lively enough when I took him out for his usual walk last night, after Tress and I got home. When we got back just before 7pm, he was still bouncing around and appeared very happy. Later that night however, he just curled up and stayed in a corner on the couch, closer to Tress who was having a blanket over her. It was the cold. He hates it. It makes him do that – curl up into a furry black ball and sleep.

Apparently this morning, when Tress left home, he was back on the couch, all curled and balled up. He was immobile in similar fashion at the edge of our bed when I left this morning. We often make him go out in the morning, after which we close a door that separates the hallway leading to the rooms, from the rest of the house. He doesn’t get to go back to the rooms so he heads to the couch, and ball up. Scruff and winter. He doesn’t like it.

Kiddo came back, Kiddo went back. That was last week. She went back on Sat arvo. We went to lunch at a restaurant called Treasure, just around the corner from our home. We dropped her off at Tulla close to 3pm, then went home and took the little fella for a longish walk. Back at home just after 5, I settled down to watch Hawks fight it out for a Grand Final spot.

We then went to Alex and Li Har’s for dinner towards the end of the game and I watched Hawks crawl over the finishing line for that spot, on that one Saturday in September.

At Alex’s, we caught up over a really good noodles dinner. Alex has mastered it all now. About half a dozen families sat down, ate and talked, and generally enjoyed others’ company. We all have different journeys and different challenges and it was good to catch up and share tender moments along the way.

One family had a child remove his tonsils, and that child has since become much more energetic and responsive. He had been subdued for months and months before that. Another family has a child facing some challenges in responding to an eating disorder, and the family is coming together collectively in support. Yet another family is starting to find a vocation for the mum, who was a successful career woman in a past life and has been trying to find a niche in their new life in Melbourne.

We all shared, talked, offered and took a shoulder, and generally just got together because often, that helps.

We had a really quiet Sunday, and I stayed up to watch Man United struggle but beat the scousers anyway. Theoretically, a weekend that saw Hawthorn earn a spot in the Grand Final and Man United beating Liverpool, would have me delirious and extremely satisfied. Yet I feel like I have been in a contemplative mood, unsure where I’m heading.

Work wise I have been busy, generally productive but not overly stressed. In other words, things have been great at work. Health wise, other than excess weight and dental challenges things are generally good. I continue to run on the treadmill 2-3 times a week, and feel well. So I guess it isn’t health issues either.

Tress and I have found a new level of comfort and pleasure in each other’s company – a level of equanimity that I am cherishing. We’re together a lot now, other than during work hours. We both enjoy the company of the little black jedi – our 3 year old Schnoodle – after work and every now and then, enjoy a good meal out either on our own or with some people who have become dear friends over the last few years. So it isn’t that either.

The obvious remaining candidate is church life and there is no doubting where that is. I have become almost totally withdrawn on that front. I have lost any interest, and unfortunately, my reading and praying times have also been less consistent lately. At church, I remain frustrated at the many things I see but feel pointless or too hard to do anything about anymore. That frustration has been (unfortunately perhaps) successfully tampered. I have chosen to just sit back and let others do it all, and slowly, have turned off my frustration.

It is hard however, to discard something that has been a significant part of my life for the best part of the last 30+ years. I have been involved in church service (or quasi-church) in one form or another since I was perhaps 14 or 15. From just over 3 months ago, I have made a deliberate choice of closing that chapter because I see difficulties working under present circumstances. Some of the entry matters in recent pieces would probably bear this out.

I’m not sure how to deal with this. I have been talking to Tress about sitting things out for the next few months, and then perhaps early next year, will explore the possibility of leaving the church, if this inability to serve in the current church becomes too difficult to live with.

God has His ways of dealing with His children. I have to continue to obey and be faithful.

Meanwhile, I hope to savour the build-up to Grand Final day, and enjoy bragging rights with my scouser supporting friends…

Four birds in a cage without a cat. How’s that for a preliminary final scene of this season’s AFL competition? Hawks are up against the Crows, and the Magpies take on the Swans. Two Melbourne/Victorian birds will be hovering against interstate opponents respectively. No doubt the seagulls would make sure it will be an all-birds affair tonight and tomorrow.

Alas, few in my circle are interested in the AFL. Soon after we came here in 2004, it became clear how big the AFL is. It is like for everyone you know who takes an interest in the English football scene, you’d have hundreds talking only AFL stuff. So I decided to pick a team to follow. We live out east, and I’d been to Waverley Park a couple of times and coupled with their history through the 80s and early 90s when I vaguely heard about them while enjoying the NRL in Sydney, I decided Hawthorn Football Club would be my team. 4 years later in 2008 we won our first flag since our move to Melbourne. 2012 could see a second.

Hence, my closer interest. I have been trying to get a barbie going for this and next weekend but there’re already a couple of things lined up for both tonight and tomorrow so I’m just hoping we can do it next Sat, on Grand Final day, and hope that the Crows get sent flying back to Adelaide. Hopefully it would be a Hawks v Swans grand final. Go Hawks!

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Last night we went to a restaurant in Templestowe, a leafy north-eastern suburb of Melbourne. It looked, felt and charged like a city restaurant and so while the food and experience was very nice, I was feeling the pain for Tress who footed the bill.

Kiddo has long started to enjoy good food, and was able to appreciate each of the 3 different dishes we had. We also had a very good conversation about contemporary issues like gay marriage, secularism, Christian values etc.

So the “Living Room” experience wasn’t pegged so much on my ageing but more on Kiddo’s coming of age. Seated next to me on that table last night was an articulate, intelligent, robust and passionate young woman who held strong views and argued them well. Tress took it all in stride, chimed in at various points and must have wondered how she spawned and held this family together – one that is perhaps very different to many.

Seeing those two ladies enjoying the food, conversation and each other’s company was a fabulous birthday present. I was really happy.

Tomorrow I turn 47. That sounds really old.

I now weigh far heavier, run far slower, pee slower, tire faster, forget easier, recall harder, recover longer and have a softer heart. Really.

Last night Kiddo got us to watch another couple of episodes of “The Newsroom”. It was compelling stuff. Aaron Sorkin is a genius. I am still feeding off re-runs of The West Wing and now there’s this. We had watched episodes of the current season recently but the one last night was a prequel of sorts for us. We watched the one where the anchor, Will McAvoy, just had his team replaced and his old flame MacKenzie has just been hired to come and work with him again. They were arguing in his office on her first day, when Jim Harper, MacKenzie’s off-sider, picked up a news alert. Jim is a young, switched on and driven tv news producer and could smell breaking news in his sleep. The breaking news was the oil spill off the coast of Louisiana, which in real life was a stench for BP. The way the skeletal remains of a team came together, to broadcast the disaster was breathtaking stuff. I told Kiddo it was a “seminal moment in tv” – I have had a glass of red and was a bit uninhibited in dishing out superlatives but like I said, Aaron Sorkin is a genius.

That high was followed, in the very next episode, by a low which was really staring down the bottom of a barrel. The story was on a new Arizona legislation which was targeted at illegal immigration and much as Aaron’s Sorking political leanings were predictable, the story was very watchable indeed. The broadcast in question was a farce as they – due to a crew cock-up – could not secure anyone from the governor’s office to defend the legislation and in its place, it got a quack context fearing, bible quoting conservative who “wrote 2-3 books” (and probably sold 10 copies all in), a gun lobby bullet head and a bimbo. Mac pressed on – maybe as a true blue newsman whose show must go on or maybe to show his crew what goes wrong when they don’t do their homework and could not provide the basic raw material.

It was a great night at home with Tress, Kiddo and the little black jedi, consuming great television washed down with a very nice red. It made turning 47 with all of its woes in tow, much less painful. It was also a stark reminder that life has its ebbs and flows. One deals with events as they emerge and move on, hopefully with loved ones still around us.

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Kiddo’s home for a week and so last night we took her to Tang‘s on Middleborough Road. This is a little family restaurant with simple but not unsophisticated food. We had the pork knuckle dish – something we’ve always been told is one of their specialties but had never, until last night, dared try for fear of its fatty bits.

I enjoyed it unfortunately. I said to Tress and kiddo, if that meant I’m getting on as usually, it’s the older men who enjoyed fatty pork.

I feel like many things have changed with me. The biggest thing is my present total lack of interest in my church stuff. I just want to close out my board role ASAP and then not be involved in any way. I’m not liking how I feel, I think but I’m not sure I want to feel any other way either. I quite enjoy the feeling of being uninvolved, but am not sure what it would do to me.

Sort of like the fatty pork knuckle maybe.

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We were at someone’s home on Friday night when someone showed a YouTube clip of a dance. It was one of those Asian rap stuff I didn’t care for. So I didn’t ask to see the clip as the mobile phone was passed around.

Yesterday, as Tress and I sat waiting for Kiddo to call – she was in the city with some friends having returned on Sat for a week – when I thought I’d just watch that dance on tele to know what the fuss was.

We turned on the Apple TV and searched for Gangnam and lo and behold it was everywhere. I picked one with Ellen Degeneres. There was Simon Cowell and Britney Spears but the attention was on Psy.

It was on show again – that in today’s world of easy access to media. You can do and achieve very little to be widely known. Being known and liked is ever more a factor to be discarded.

The problem is that silly beat and tune for “Gangnam Style” is stuck in me head as I battle Monday morning blues in the train at 6am…

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I am in a bit of a dilemma. On the one hand I really want to stop having any more involvement in my local church board. On the other hand, I keep hearing a need (and sometimes clearly seeing this need) to plug a gap in terms of identifying and articulating certain types of issues and sometimes, solutions to these issues.

God is omnipotent, omniscient and has it all planned and worked out. He doesn’t need anyone in particular, to see His will realised. He wants however, to give effect to His will through man – sometimes specific individuals – to fulfil His love and His glory. It is one of those apparent contradictions which makes the gospel and His kingdom glorious, ie. He is honoured and glorified when man responds to His initiatives and His love plays out in perfect splendour when man responds to that love in complete obedience and submission. Yet, His honour, glory and love has always been and will remain perfect in all of its splendour. It is almost as if He uses the agency of man for His own sake but purely for the benefit of man, yet when He does this, it only magnifies who He is.

So in a sense, it doesn’t matter whether I remain involved. But if I do, it magnifies God’s glory – but (obviously) only if I do it in a way which pleases Him. If by remaining in the Board I risk events which displease Him that equation then no longer hold. No one sets out to risk events which displease Him. Yet one can foreshadow what is to come, and examine if that future sits well in terms of whether one will be ready to do all things possible, and is confident that it is likely, that one will be able to “deliver”. I’m not sure if this equates with a refusal to exercise self-control and (perhaps more importantly) a refusal to be led by the Spirit (I believe this is the purest form of being led by the Spirit). I have a feeling this is just a recognition of the limited and sinful person that I am, have been and will likely remain.

This is not to say I have ceased seeking to be sanctified and be changed from glory to glory, but it is a recognition that all things being equal, there is a greater chance of me causing hurt and harm, than there is of me bringing hope and blessing. Obviously this means “all things being equal” becomes the epicentre of sorts. Maybe this is an opportunity, an avenue even, for me to be changed for the better. Maybe it is an opportunity for all involved – leaders of this church – to revisit how we are to be a blessing and bearer of hope, to all whose paths pass or end at the church.

What of awaiting others to also be ready, and pending that, for me to simply exit and wait it out in the wings? Sort of let the others take this church where they see fit and if/when the time is right for me to be involved again (assuming the window remains open) then by the grace of God go I. Does that work? How will that sit with the other present board members? With the pastor? With the family? I know (I think) it will sit well with the family. But is that the determining factor?

Sometimes I long for a burning bush, a whisper of a still sound voice in a cave, a voice in heaven calling out, a storm in seas to have me spat from the boat, a wetting of the wool, a blinding light on the road to Blackburn, even a passage or verse or chapter from the scriptures – anything.

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I’m not sure objecting to starting something based on where one was born or brought up, in terms of starting a new congregation in a church., is the wrong thing to do. I would object again in a hurry. To have this objection cited as an example of not empowering a pastor to plan, is instructive – or maybe confusing. Either way, it does show a very difficult path ahead.