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The Shelter of the Most High

Some days it's hard to know what to feel about this Virus that seems to be stalking all of us. I sense that a lot of us are scared - of the sickness, of dying, and of the next few moths and years with all sorts of financial problems. And worried for our loved ones. It's a time for re-evaluating our lives, and thinking about what happens after death. Yep, I have even updated my Will. So, I have found this Psalm a great comfort. Of course, it is dependent on "dwelling in the shelter of the Most High". Otherwise there is a great deal to be afraid of. Psalm 911 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.[a]
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.” 3 Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;

EMP - really?

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This week, in the midst of the the craziness and stress over the Coronavirus, our power went out. Twice. If we were still living in Northam, that would be no surprise. But here in Butler you don't expect it. The Western Power people explained that it was an "Unplanned Outage", and there were suggestions that the system was overloaded - what with all the extra freezers running keeping the hoarders stockpiles fresh, as well as the air conditioners running in this hot weather with everyone staying at home.

The first outage was after dark. We were in our swimming pool for our evening splash, with the underwater light glowing blue and red, and suddenly ... total darkness.

But not silence. The local Corellas started up such a ruckus. Apparently they didn't like the sudden change.


Two nights later we had our second outage, but just before dark. Again the birds were very upset as it got dark - pitch black - and we heard them fly off in a massive, squawking flock.
Several day…

The birds

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The big birds, like the Corellas, can be so much fun to watch. They sound like they are talking to us, making a contented "choo!" sound as they eat, and squawking almost rudely when they are upset by something.

And then there are the slightly fluffy young ones that make little squeaky noises as they seem to be waiting for someone to vomit some food for them. Or the young ones sit there in a row making a continuous almost buzzing sound - no evidence of pausing for breath.

This one sat on the edge of the roof, looking down at us.


There is something comical about the way they tilt their head to look at you with one eye, and then turn to look at you with the other.

Getting older, and more so

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Have you ever wondered exactly who you are, in essence? The you that was the child, or the teenager - was that the real you? Or the loving parent? Or ... where does you true character reside? Were you more 'you' before than you are now??


Is this me? (Or has 'me' already come and gone ... or am I not fully 'me' yet?)

I remember reading a thing that said that we become more of what we really are as we age. So a person who is really mean, will become increasingly so, and a kind person will get kinder if that is their essential character.

I know that I have a tendency to be critical of others. I'm working on that, I don't want to be more and more of that. I make a determined effort to be kinder. I want to be more and more of that.


Clappy Trees

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"For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." (Isaiah 55:12)


What does that look and sound like - the mountains and hills singing, and the trees clapping?
It sounds lovely and joyful.

Elijah and the Priests of Baal

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So we have been studying the story of Elijah in our weekly Bible study. 

This is such an amazing historical tale. Can you imagine being there, watching the priests of Baal shouting and dancing and cutting themselves all day long, hoping against hope that their "god" would answer and send down fire. It was a bit of a damp squib.
And then Elijah - the hairy, unkempt (smelly?) man gets up at the very end of the day, and tells them to pour 12 jugs of water over his sacrifice and altar before he even starts. And as soon as he calls out to God - without even specifically asking for Jehovah God to send fire - the fire comes down and burns up the sacrifice, the stones, the dust and the water.
And, for a while, the people believed in the real God again.

The Cock-Eyed-Bob

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So a week after "they" (who claim to know about the weather) forecast / promised / warned us about a storm ... it finally came.

It started with a hint of darkness in the sky.

We barely had time to drag the washing in, and move cushions etc from outside.

The rain came in sideways, with a strong wind blasting behind it. Both of our little patios were flooded.


The artificial turf was quickly underwater, with a sprinkling of small hail floating on it. The gutters were overflowing, and water was pouring in through the seals around one of the living room windows.

It only lasted a few minutes. A local friend with a rain gauge said he had 40 mm in 20 mins.

In those few minutes, the swimming pool filled up completely with rainwater, along with all sorts of debris that washed off the patio etc.

Elsewhere in Perth there were trees downed, and other destruction, and a lot of people were without electricity. And then it passed, and all was quiet (and wet).

We call it a "cock-eyed bo…