Ends and starts. I was struck by Philippians being one of Paul’s last letters, his last to an actual church. There is a work tone, it’s the one where Paul discusses whether it would be better if he died and was with Christ or if he lived for a few more years ministry.
Reading it’s four brief chapters corresponded to new year 2022 for me, the year I’ll turn 60. Plenty of life in me yet, but I didn’t expect to be under-employed and uncertain yet again, just as Paul probably never imagined as a successful youth winding up in chains for his faith.
When he got to encouraging them with some of his loveliest images of adapting and coping with everything confident in the example of Christ, I was there.
Paul is much more of a poet than I’ve given him credit for. I know the poems and songs, but Paul remains none the less fairly fixed as a prose writer in my mind. This one has the poem about Christ humbling himself for our sakes rather than holding onto his equality with the father. This becomes the model and engine of our own encouragement to press on and cope.
I’m starting this post without having read the passage, because I want to remember the six mile creek camping ground. Just woken up on the third morning of our little holiday.
We’re car camping, We’re dodging COVID, which in January 2022, at the height of the Omicron variant, is everywhere.
Also being chased by an unseasonable amount of rain. We’ve driven through a couple of absolutely blinding storms each day. Though there have been enough gaps in the rain that we’ve still managed to have a pretty good time.
Car no longer overheats! So good. We drove down the South coast of NSW to Tuross heads, a return to the first place we ever went car camping. Then to Merimbula, a wonderful beach town with lots of tacky, but abundantly so much more natural beauty that the tackiness is more quaint than offensive.
We’re heading inland today to visit friends who own an old church near Gundagai. We’ve camped in a free bush site about an hour inland from Merimbula.
The mountain road was spectacularly beautiful, but became wetter as it climbed, foggy, surrounded by think forest and the surface went from bitumen to dirt to, at a few points, slippery wet mud. I kept apologising to our valiant car for it not being a four wheel drive. Now we’re ridiculously dependant on its reliability. Road surface is a detail Google maps doesn’t seem to regards as relevant. It was a real adventure.
So we’re next to a creek, in the rain, no internet, middle of friggin nowhere. We debated, quite tensely, whether to move onto the next town, but given the road, that was an even bigger unknown. We had beer, wine and prosecco. Water? Not so much… I’d actually thrown in a tarpaulin, but no rope! Consummate campers!
We made enough of a shelter off the side of the car to light our stove and boil some water. After a good tea, and a downloaded Netflix to chill, the feeling of bedding down in dry clothes was glorious.
Today we battle an unknown amount more winding dirt mountain road towards Brungle, the tiny town our friends fixed upon.
Tuross HeadsMerimbulaSix mile creek
Oh no, woke up and I left the key in the ignition overnight. Last thing I did was adjust the windows to let in some air, forgot to take keys out. Two other campers here at least. Either flat battery, or worse burnt out ignition. So stupid! I don’t have jump leads, neither do the others but one will drive us till we get phone reception and can call NRMA. So cross with myself!!!!
My gosh, what a day! Having got the car started again, we left six mile creek for Bombala. Hit a kangaroo just out of town!!!
I had to put it out of its misery, grisly! And Kelly dragged it off the road by its tail. The car seemed quite drivable, but the radiator was cracked and leaking coolant. Fortunately we found out before it overheated. Don’t want to blow that beautiful new engine I just got put in!
Long story short, the NRMA guy at Bombala lent us his ute to drive to Cooma, an hour or so away, the nearest depot for hire cars. NRMA organised a motel and a hire car to get us back to Sydney. Our car will be fixed by insurance and delivered back to us. We are dazed, exhausted, but glad at least to have a shower!
We both lost it when we hit the kangaroo, though both a bit giggly too at the shock of the gore of the poor thing. I lost it majorly in the Cosmo Cafe in Bombala, where we went for comfort after learning the car could not go on. They didn’t want us, infected Sydneysiders. The owners were pecking away at us the whole time.
I got a call from NRMA explaining what we had to do next. It would only work on the dodgy connection if I stood up and moved to the front of the cafe. The chef/owner would not let me walk around, interrupting to demand I sit at my table. I said “please, it’s the NRMA, and there’s no reception at my table”. He wouldn’t stop hectoring me. I became overwhelmed. I threw my phone down in disgust and left and even yelled, for the whole cafe to hear “how about some of that old fashioned country service you promise on the window!!!”. Wife and phone still in the cafe, I had to return, humiliatingly, and apologise to everyone in sight.
So Colossians.
It’s a church Paul didn’t found, and may not even have been to.
The flow of the first chapter springs off what Paul prays for them:
Thanking God for the news of the faith and love with which they received the gospel, part of a worldwide transformation.
Continuing to ask God to bring them to a mature understanding and worthy life of patience and endurance
Thanking God for their being part of his son’s Kingdom of light
Paul expands on describing Christ’s significance. Jesus was there at creation, at the start. He’s here now, holding everything together, and he is the means of reconciliation with God though his death.
Paul describes his own role, a servant of the gospel, a servant of the church, particularly gentiles, with whom God has now chosen to share the mystery of salvation. Suffering as Christ did to present people fully mature in Christ.
The bit about Christ is glorious, and really helpful for understanding him:
“The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”
v15-17
This holiday is being quite stressful, life is quite stressful especially until I can be earning a bit better. I needed to lose the job I had, it was too dangerous, but I’m yet to pick up enough to replace it.
Paul is giving these glimpses of how everything holds together through a loving God, at the same time talking about suffering and difficulty in life, a tension between glory and anxiety.
These are ideas, beliefs about God and Christ. They influence everything you do but it doesn’t mean that’s all you do. Paul had long days making tents. Long boring days in prison or under house arrest. The time of a believer can often largely be spent similarly to the time of a non-believer.
This is time for my relationship with Kelly, our time, and we’ve been put under stress. Our anxiety levels have been through the roof. I won’t beat myself up for trying to have a holiday. The gospel includes holidays. If it’s actually a testing, difficult time, instead of a happy, glamorous affirming time, it’s ok to mourn it. And then let’s at least have and love each other through it. I’ll pray for the love, honesty, humility, tenderness Christ modelled as the visible image of the invisible deity.
A power passage, like a Bach fugue of woven themes. Glorious, complex, unsubtle, excited and learned. Classic Paul.
His theme is letter and Spirit. Someone must have asked for a written credential for Paul. He says that their transformed lives are his letter of recommendation for his ministry, written on their hearts by the Spirit. Then he remembers to say that it’s all God’s work anyway, not his.
Then he’s off on a roll, joining all the theological dots again. talking about the written law in the old testament, which bought death, compared to the spirit that brings life.
The moments of glory before Christ came, such as when Moses’ face glowed after receiving the written commandments, were transient compared to the permanent glory now revealed in Christ.
Moses had a veil with to cover his glowing face, because the Israelites could not look at God’s glory, and they still can’t. Only Christ can tear off the veil.
Hopping from idea to idea, it’s all so rich and deep in biblical allusions.
I’ve been thinking a bit about the spiritual vs. the concrete, recently because I’m working ever so slowly in launching my album about the history books of the Bible.
Israel’s earthly glory peaked early, with Solomon’s reign. But in the long decline the prophets arose and had this outpouring about the spiritual blessing that was to come.
It makes me feel confident and relaxed about where my life is going and where I’ve come from despite so much wasted potential.
I listened to a podcast interview with a quadriplegic guy I’m working with. He was talking about letting go of his identity coming from his youthful strength. The injury fast-forwarded the process that happens to all of us, decline of our power, becoming weak and dependent on others. He is very inspiring. It’s a cliche, but it’s true.
This passage is about glory, but the glory that exists at our local church, or in small Christian lives.
This is also all reminding me of the centrality and importance of Christ. The best and clearest revelation of God’s love and mercy.
People who never hear the literal word “Christ” still know of the Word. The heavens declare God’s glory after all. But when you know the Word is Christ, you’re there. The light has come to you.
I pray for Afghanistan, for the women losing their freedom. For vulnerable people in the path of COVID, particularly regional Aboriginal communities. And I pray for my family, Kelly and those crazy kids. All struggling with different stuff at the moment.
I have a bit of stuff to get onto, I pray for discipline.
After reading this chapter I prayed for confidence in Jesus.
He calls the disciples. I hadn’t noticed Peter’s first words to Jesus before. “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!”
This after Jesus used his boat to preach, and then they had a huge catch. And moments before he left it all behind and followed Jesus.
The chapter ends with the parable of the new wine.
In between, Jesus is good news for a leper, the paralysed man who is lowered down through the roof and Levi, the tax collector.
He’s bad news for the Pharisees, (always them), who question whether Jesus can forgive sins, and snipe at the joyous party Levi puts on to celebrate Jesus coming into his life.
When Jesus’ responds to Peter telling him to go away, he nails what is going on: “Don’t be afraid”.
That’s all Peter needed to hear.
Jesus makes people aware of their inadequacy, their evil. But he offers freedom from that too, and there is the long or short journey to joy.
He’ll burst apart the old container, your identity, that held close old ideas, including including rationalisations and compensations for your moral failures. And your hypocrisy and shame.
But some people say that they still prefer that old wine.
The confidence the people in these stories had, the disciples and the sick, had that Jesus could fix them, gives me confidence in his name.
My confidence is tested by the rising indifference to religion. I read an article that affirmed the rise of “nones” – people who don’t have any response to God. They don’t identify as agnostic or atheist, they aren’t anti, but simply don’t see the relevance to them. That accords with my experience.
But the people in this chapter couldn’t meet Jesus and not respond. And I do have confidence. So the “nones” can bloody well meet Jesus if they meet me, and see how irrelevant he is after that!
At the message stick service last Sunday pastor Ray, after the week we had, which included suicide, and after a time spent despairing over, and praying for, our leaders, sang this old hymn:
“What a friend we have in Jesus All our sins and griefs to bear”
Which is a great place to get to.
COVID test negative, coughs hopefully in retreat for Kelly and I, I feel like the physical illness will transition into psychological malaise if I don’t get some more energy soon. It’s a day to pray for energy and confidence. I’m starting to feel overwhelmed by life.
Paul’s second missionary journey. The thing that struck me was his choices.
In the last chapter I’ll admit I was a bit disrespectful of his decision to split with Barnabas. But here, so much grace flows from the discernment and love in his choices.
There’s too much packed in here to go though it all. But some of the choices include:
Going to Europe, when he planned to go to Asia
Taking Timothy with him
Getting Timothy circumcised, even though part of the mission was to spread his passionately held belief that circumcision is unnecessary.
Continuing to minister first to Jews, even though in Phillipi, the first European City, there were “only” women, less than 10 male Jews, no synagogue. They meet by a river, like the exiles in Babylon.
Not mentioning being a Roman citizen when he was discriminated against, beaten and jailed because the town officials thought he was just a Jew, and they could get away with it.
Not running from the jail after a miraculous earthquake released him, saving the jailer’s life.
The first European Christian was a female, Jewish purveyor of purple cloth, Lydia. Paul stuck with the marginals. Auspicious start!
Some of the choices were divinely guided. Paul got a vision and a message from the spirit to turn away from Asia and sail to Europe (Greece).
From which I take listening to God and adaptability. Don’t be shocked if something unexpected comes up, be alert to the spirit no matter how carefully you have planned.
And I still don’t understand God’s planning; why Europe and not Asia?
My mind gets a little blown however when I contemplate the centrality of Jerusalem to all the sub-continents: Europe, Asia, Africa. For Paul, the choice between Asia and Europe was the choice between turning left or right. Bought to mind, for some reason, Abraham’s random choice to go to a different paddock, all those years ago, where he found a burning bush.
And the timely rise of the Roman Empire, obsessive road builders and administrators, enabling travel and consistent law, just at the time Christianity is ready to be spread out.
The geography and the timing of the infrastructure are so perfect and strategic. Why were the Jews the chosen race anyway? Did God decide Jesus would be Jewish for geographical reasons?
I’m thinking about planning vs listening to God quite a bit a bit during this period when I have many more options than I usually do.
For instance, I’m going back to Bourke with TRYP (To Reach Your Potential boot camp program) in a week’s time, even though I decided definitely not to do more TRYP programs. It seemed foolish to reject the money they will pay. But what does it mean, what will flow from all this unsought for engagement with TRYP?
A huge theme of St. Paul’s choices is restraint. Saying no, not insisting on your rights.
Notably his choice to be identified as a Jew, beaten and jailed, and only afterwards play the Roman citizen card, which could have avoided all the indignities. Talk about following in the footsteps of Christ. I can’t imagine I would have made that choice.
Then after a divine intervention, the earthquake to set them free, staying in the uncomfortable stocks, still smarting from the wounds of the lash, so that the jailer need not fall on his sword.
Compassion! What a great basis for choosing to hang around somewhere, even when God clearly gives you the option of leaving a situation. That is an extraordinary message.
Saw a powerful film, “Calvary”, about a contemporary Irish priest facing death and the choices he must make yesterday. Very apt for this good Friday. Do we choose to meet our destiny, or is our destiny decided by our choices? Jesus had a choice not to go though with it.
In my choices, looking to start on a new direction, I don’t instinctively steer myself towards hardship, I envisage futures of happiness. But if hardship is there, may I accept it and stay obedient and open to the will of God.
Bourke will be a bit hard for me.
But not as bad as a beating, hopefully.
The decision to circumcise Timothy meant he was acceptable to Jewish people, meaning Paul could connect with Lydia, who proved such a powerful convert.
The commentator made a neat point that the town of her supplier, where the purple cloth is made, Thyatira, is one of the seven churches that get letters in Revelation. She could well have been the link.
Paul personally cut into Timothy the physical symbol of the heresy he had worked so hard to fight. I’d like to see more churches stuggle with that. Will Iife call me to do similar?
So here, much much to think and pray about, going into the Easter weekend.
I pray to listen to my kids, to be alert to the spirit. I’m very in my own head at the moment, Paul was what we would call mindful: alert to the grace of Jesus and the breath of the spirit, moment by moment, as choices unfold.
A another chapter about Jesus’power. These stories add interesting detail and colour to the nature of his power.
He drives a legion of demons out of a mad guy. They go into a herd of pigs, and the pigs then dramatically run into a lake
The man whose life is transformed becomes a powerful preacher of the gospel. He wanted to stay with Jesus and become a disciple.
There is no pecking order here, Jesus’ disciples are important to the narrative of the book and as readers of the book our focus stays with them. But this man is a star in the kingdom of God.
I don’t know what this means, I don’t understand demon possession, but Jesus’ transforming power in one person’s life is impressively on display.
And there’s something about the detail that the demons had to go somewhere, and were also in some way spiritual beings in torment, that hints at an epic battle against evil. They are frightened of him, not the other way around. Jesus almost seems to have compassion for them.
Then a woman is healed by touching Jesus’cloak. His power emanates from him if you have faith, she doesn’t have to talk to him or have his attention. And he can feel it, the healing touch, differently to normal touch.
It was a bold somewhat sneaky thing she did because her illness seems to be endless menstruation, which makes her ritually unclean. Which might have been why she touched Jesus’ cloak without his permission. Culturally, he could have been disgusted by her. But he finds her, calls her daughter and praises her faith. He tells her to preach her healing openly.
Then he brings a little 12 year old girl back from death. That power he wants to keep quiet for now.
Power over the spirit world, physical illness, and death. Power.
I’ve spent three weeks now almost in another dimension helping run youth boot camps. Its been powerful and transformative too. Most of these are kids are facing social and personal disadvantage like I have never known, so their life skills have to be a lot sharper than mine were at that age.
My head is spinning somewhat, a lot to process. The programs are run by a mix a Christian-motivated and compassion-motivated people who are not Christians. I’ve found it very moving, confronting of my culture, and coming at a time when I’m obviously thinking pretty deeply about my identity and purpose, and my next actual practical move.
Hmmmm… I believe in this powerful Jesus, and choices keep coming to me. I’m playing it by ear.
How painful life can be. Jesus has the prophetic view, understanding that it is God’s will and plan; and the human view, being downhearted, longing not to have to die, commenting on how unfair it all is.
These perspectives run right though in parallel. Fully divine yet fully human, experiencing fully the pain and frustration of this existence, including the dread of death. Three times he prays the same prayer in Gethsemane: please please please, can’t there be another way?
The injustice and general lousy-ness of everything.
I remembered his famous rebuke of the disciples for falling asleep, leaving him unguarded when he was praying. But I hadn’t really noticed the second time he comes back and finds them sleeping, he leaves them to sleep and goes back to continue praying. He only wakes them again when it’s time to go. There is acceptance as well as rebuke. I imagine Jesus eye rolling so often with the disciples (and me, hopefully).
That sort of attitude is there throughout from Jesus.
His interactions with the betrayer, Judas “do what you came for, friend”.
The way he can’t help but note the hypocrisy of the temple mob, coming to arrest him bringing clubs at night, characterising him as a potentially violent rebel leader when they could have picked him up openly teaching at the temple any day.
The trumped up trial and the disciples all going to water rather than stand up for him, when just days before they’d been jostling for positions of influence in his new kingdom.
He quietly comments on it all, while also accepting the inevitability of it.
I suppose this is all the role of lamentation which I’ve been struggling with of late. Being aware that life can be terrible and still God’s will. Allowing yourself to observe it, regret it and wish it could be otherwise. But also coming to terms with it, not dwelling in the misery.
And doesn’t he richly value the good thing too. The one person, disciples included, who seemed to appreciate his enormous value, the woman who poured out her precious fragrance on his feet.
It was essentially her retirement fund, her financial security she invested in Jesus there. He recognised it as a deed of greatness for the ages. She maybe didn’t expect him to die, but she was embalming him already. He didn’t have to die to convince her, she got it. He was already her only hope, the Messiah. That was already her truth.
The worst of us aren’t much worse than the best of us. The way that the narrative is structured, I think we are supposed to ponder the differences and similarities between Judas and Peter – who ends the chapter weeping bitterly because Jesus’ prediction that he would betray him came to be.
There isn’t that much difference. It’s good to have there, because it stops there being a villain to blame for Jesus’ death. Peter got to share a fish barbeque of grace and forgiveness with Jesus post-resurrection. Judas died before Jesus’ resurrection by his own hand, trapped in a dark box of his own shame. God knows if he found grace. But all have sinned and fallen short.
Jesus’ refusal of violence. The disciples strike out at the arresting mob, Jesus heals a severed ear and calms the situation.
May we also, as black lives matter protests sweep the world and militias across the political divide stir violence, distracting from the righteousness at the heart of the movement.
And so I pray, still, in Jesus’ name for calm and the grace of God as I live though the personal and communal challenges of life. Christ himself the way has trod.
Three parables about the kingdom of God. In heaven, which is how things are intended to be by God; the template of eternal truth. And on earth, where we exist in time, as beings of talent and opportunity. Where sin and evil still have a hold, but where God’s spirit and saving grace abound as well.
We have agency in both evil and grace, according to our responsiveness to God’s spirit.
First the story of the 10 attendants waiting for the bridegroom to arrive at his wedding… Half of them miss the wedding banquet because they were inattentive and ill prepared.
Then the story of wise servants who invested their master’s money, compared to one who hid it in the ground. A story about boldness, being willing to engage, risk losing in order to benefit.
Not about absolute greatness. The servant who was given two bags of money and made two back was as praised as the one with five bags to invest who made five.
Then the killer story at the end about the sheep and the goats, which brings home what the other two were about. We have a finite bundle of opportunities, abilities, days, energy. Some have a little, some have a lot.
How we use our time, how we bring about God’s kingdom, how fair, kind, compassionate and generous, we are like God. The extent to which we are the Lord’s presence, and understand the spiritual dimension to what we do. Investing what we have in God’s will, the kingdom work, as we encounter it on our unique path.
This year is the one where life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. I’m between jobs, waiting for the pandemic to subside, trying to figure out who I am, and what the rest of my time looks like.
But there’s this rhythm, this drumbeat of daily opportunity and relationships that carries on. I want to keep my light on, stay boldly engaged.
Because when I see others hungry, sick, wanting clothes, enslaved and imprisoned, and I do something about it, I’m doing it for Jesus, it’s bringing the kingdom closer.
Don’t dare ask Jesus questions. Not that he can’t take it, but can you?
When I read these passages in the morning, I sometimes stop after and listen, listen to what my mind, and God’s Spirit is saying to me.
I’m in one of those places at the moment where I hear nothing. There is silence when I do this. It’s a silence I’ve learned not to be afraid of.
Honestly, an old anthem, a piece of church music I sang as a child was the only thing that came into my head for the whole chapter. The music was by John Wesley, I recall, and the text was “thou wilt keep in perfect peace whose mind is set on thee”.
In this silence, I feel preserved. Kept in peace, active peace as in knowing god’s love.
The chapter is full of texts that are familiar old friends which have informed and excited my thinking for as long as I can remember.
The two great commandments are slipped in there, Jesus’clarifying teaching that all the law boils down to love, of God and others. How helpful has that been down the years. I still recall a Christian summer camp where they taught us this, and it was so simple, I grabbed it.
And rendering coins with Caesar’s face to Caesar.
And a slightly meaner version of the wedding banquet story than in other gospels, the one where the king invites the nobles and the rich to his banquet, but they won’t come, so then he invites all the riff raff.
But in Matthew’s telling, the king throws out someone from the second group, the riff raff group for not having the right clothes. (What did the king expect?) But it reminded me of the parable of the sower… Some don’t respond at all to the invitation, some respond but not deeply. It doesn’t take root.
Also in the chapter Jesus talking to the Sadducees, who I think of as the liberal, intellectual teachers, who take or leave the scriptures by the nature of their own skepticism.
They don’t believe in the resurrection of the dead, and ask Jesus a super tricksy scenario about how marriage to multiple partners on earth would play out in heaven, which makes eternal life sound ridiculous.
Jesus breezes past their sophistry to say “you know neither the power of the scriptures or the power of God”. I loved that. That did speak to me, because I’m having a dumb day today.
And Jesus’ wonderful answer to the question about the authority of the Messiah, interpreting David saying “the lord said to my lord” in Psalm 110 as meaning there is an extra lord. God the father and himself, Jesus, that David recognises. So Jesus places himself, Messiah, as David’s lord. Lord of the greatest figure in Jewish history.
Scandalous! But the Jewish leaders who raised the question to trap Jesus were dumbfounded. They couldn’t provide a better interpretation of that verse.
Which was where I started… The Jewish leaders gave up asking Jesus questions after that, and simply resolved to kill Jesus. They stopped even pretending to care about God or theology, and revealed themselves as power hungry brutes. I’m thinking Jerry Falwell junior.
Which brings me back to my silence. I gave up asking Jesus questions to trip him up when I was a kid. I love all this teaching, its an old friend. I’m in a vulnerable place. Cognitive overload, I think they call it. So I’m just happy to be reminded it’s all there, without the burden of processing it too much.
Some hopeful signs for the kids this week… And some quiet satisfactions. Won’t go into detail, but seeing possibilities of hope ahead is a good feeling.
This is more of a PowerPoint show than a biography. A playlist of greatest hits, organised by genre.
Which of course draws attention to how things are ordered and the editing choices.
We’ve had three amazing chapters of Jesus’teaching, today is a series of his acts showing his power, and the responses.
It starts with healings, which are examples of the faith of the recipients as well as Jesus’ power.
He has power over sickness, but he is excited by those with enough faith to ask for healing. This is a practical example of the themes from the sermon. Just ask, and you will be given.
It’s so easy to forget to ask, to carry all your problems alone.
The healings are put in the context of fulfilling scriptures, as Matthew does.
Next the power over nature, (calming a storm); and the forces of darkness (sending demons from two men into pigs).
The responses vary. The non Jewish Centurion earns counter-intuitive praise from Jesus for his faith. The Roman military commander recognised power when he saw it.
The disciples aren’t quite there yet, they are amazed at Jesus’ command of the weather. “Who is this man?”. You wonder who they thought when they dropped everything and followed him. Maybe they thought it would be just for a few days or a week, to find out what “fishers of men” meant.
The locals want rid of him. The herd of pigs full of demons, running into the sea is the last straw. Jesus? Not in my backyard!
The contrast in attitude of Jewish people and the Roman hangs over it. Though this book is clearly a quite specific plea to Jews to consider Jesus, it has been accused of being antisemitic. That tension will come back.
For my part, I’m not sure if a certain depression is making me feel sick, or sickness is making me feel depressed. But I’m sad and struggling to stay motivated, and my throat hurts.
Not majorly, yet. I’ve had a quite producive and enjoyable two days not working. What bliss that is! Did some DIY. I’m also just out of practice having so much self-directed time.
But the rest of my family do seem happier than me. I’ll pray for healing, just ask.
Started looking for jobs, did a work sheet about my purpose in life that a salvo friend sent me. It encouraged me to look outside myself. I’m going to his retirement afternoon tea on the weekend. I’m enjoying feeling open to new experiences.
inheriting the earth 