Retiree Diary

Most people would recognise a church building when they see one - there is usually some kind of symbol to indicate the building's special purpose. I think that most people would say that the church is simply a building. Our home has a cross - the protestant Christian symbol - because it makes a statement to everyone in our neighbourhood. It's a small kind of "witness" to those around. It just happens that we also have been using our home as a kind of church, as we have a Bible Study group from our church that meets here during the week (though not now, with the virus n all.) A pulpit sits in the corner of our living room, along with a box of song books. And we clearly have far too many chairs. Not everyone has room for a church in their living room, but we have a huge open plan living room (and only 2 of us living in it). Still, this is our home - not a church. And not The Church. The Church is the people who love God and (therefore) meet t...

It's hard to know which day is which these days. Someone said, "The week now only has 3 days - Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow". Our weekly routine has always been marked by church on Sunday, Bible Study on Wednesday,  ... and Maccas on Saturday. Well that came to an abrupt end. I woke up this morning feeling a bit sad - would this be our first unmarked Saturday, how will it even feel like a Saturday? But then I realised that I need to go to the chemist . Yes, I know, they will deliver for free, but I NEED to go somewhere further than the letterbox. And the golden arches are right next to the chemist. So, there. Takeaway breakfast, including the soy cappuccino with caramel syrup that is my weekly treat (and I can't make at home). So - Yay! It IS Saturday one more time.

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 91 1  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...

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. ...

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.

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.

"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.