And the rain washes it all away...

Black Saturday postscript...

It's raining- well not really properly- but I believe it might be raining in places it really needs it.
Playing with the dogs at the oval I hear the cold wind rushing through the trees and wonder if that is the same roaring you hear when the bush above you is an inferno...
I hope the money I sent the bush fire victims is doing its job and helping in some small way to ease the rehabilitation process. I hope what I prayed and am still praying is getting to God's heart and the healing is taking place in those shattered lives.
People who lived outside the area are still not really welcome in, especially in Marysville where there really is no town to speak of. Understandably.
It was so hard to NOT be there and to want to help when it was at the most crucial stage, but we had to be content with being at an enforced, yet practically caring distance.

Dreaming Green...

My dreams of a Community vegetable garden, it turns out- are not just my own!
How exciting- other people are thinking about this also, about the piece of land we have attached to the church, at present with an old under-utilised house on it... about creating a hub, a focus for activity, a source of provision for the wider community, about how we might create a vegetable garden there where we can teach and provide useful skills (and food!) for those who need it.
Reading back on my thoughts in February I can't quite believe how things are moving along, and how the people in my home fellowship group have been having the same ideas- which we are now sharing...

I will keep you posted on our progress. If God wants this, it will surely flourish.
Simon, our pastor- is teaching from Acts now- and the history and roots of the Church are founded in meeting these basic needs of people,- contact, sustenance, spiritual food- which I believe we should as the church be providing now- and even more so in these uncertain financial and climactic times. I'm excited to see how people are responding to these passages; are stirred up to think about the reality of how God was working in Spiritual and practical ways in the lives of those first believers. And importantly how they drew in new disciples to believing.

Unlocking the Past... I love love love History... especially where it connects to the present, and myself...

An exciting thing is I have recently found, through the wonders of the internet, and a couple of key contacts in facebook- my old friends from the Christian Community I was in from 1980-1985; The Truevine Christian Community to be exact. The joy of finding old friends is always great- but these are very special people with whom I share a unique and treasured bond. So I am overwhelmed and challenged in turns- So much water under our bridges, but the bridges are still standing- we shared SO much, our lives, our dreams, our brokenness...
so much has happened in our individual lives. It is like meeting an ex-partner in some instances, tentative, a bit confronting and then again it's like finding family- you KNOW you belong, always did and you are home again at LONG last.
There is some exploration to be done, and reflecting back, and then stretching forth in our new roles as individuals who are in our own lives, worlds, and yet joined by this common past and in most cases common faith.
It is a precious time, and I recognise and respect some of us feel differently about our faith, about life in the Truevine and are maybe not as happy to be connected again. But I sense a willingness in even those who may have given faith away, to at least satisfy curiosity and to want to touch those old friendships again. It's all good.

(Of course, when I say "all good" I am only speaking from my perspective- finding Truevine again has been and continues to be a positive and good thing in my life, and I believe in the lives of others. This is not to say that it is not also painful and difficult for some- a lot of people were married in the Truevine within that time, and some of the marriages have ended- other marriages have also ended since then. Tragedies and losses have affected many - and therefore affect us all to some degree. Relationships for some were difficult, and framed by the authoritarian structure we lived under- the fallout continues to smolder in some cases. Obviously there is still room for healing.)

The discussions and huddles over deep doctrinal things, less serious things, personal things, are largely respectful and appropriately considerate of everyone coming from 30 years of disparately experienced lives... so interesting, so challenging, so exciting!

A Postcard from Hell

I wasn't there, but I was with them in spirit.
Those voices that came out over the air-waves, composed yet distressed. Some were almost nonchalant, indifferent. But their lives will never be the same- those who managed to save their lives, that is. I will never forget how the fires got away that day- the ones that started near Wandong then leapt and roared into the towns of Flowerdale, and Kinglake and others, I will never forget hearing those first reports and then the seemingly random ones that followed- it was in East Kilmore, heading for the pine forests, and onwards it went, in leaps and bounds. I will always remember the old lady who rang the station who lived with 10 dogs in a miners cottage in the middle of the bush. She knew she probably couldn't get them all in her car, but she was hoping the fires would stay away.
The man in the Kinglake pub watching houses burn in the township, with no sign of fire engines....
Meanwhile Marysville was wiped off the map. Strathewan in South Gippsland is no more.
The people spoke to the radio announcers of their apprehension and concern, but were lucid enough to speak, by phone, and to be 'considering' what their best plan of action was to be.
Later that night, we knew that 14 of them hadn't made it, which in itself was devastating-but what unfolded over the next week defied belief, as the numbers of dead grew each day, as bodies were discovered in various states of unsuccessful escape from the inferno which overtook them all.
I listened for over a week , addicted and transfixed , seated at the computer, crying, stunned, as the toll grew.
But what moved me most were the stories of courage and terror as people recounted their experiences.
It was like listening to holocaust survivor stories. You want to look away, but you can't. You know you need to share their pain.
One didn't know quite how to help- for those who lived in close proximity to the affected township, and there were many, hands on help was an option, and a great way to really care and show compassion for those people who emerged from their homes singed, bereft and traumatised.
I lived too far away, and it felt like a million miles, and still does. But at least I knew my money was wanted, needed and would be put to good use and I'm sure more will be needed in future.

People said, "where is your God now?" as I knew they would.
All I knew was, well He's here right now, in our suffering; He weeps and He grieves, just like us. He cares and supports and surrounds and heals, and we can be His hands and do this for Him.
And it's not just the people who call themselves His, who are effectively doing this- which I think further shows His sovereignty at this time.
We can't ever forget though, what people have and are still going through, and seeking to help them where and when they need it, for as long as they need it. Which is why, as useless as I feel right now, I think of those people today.

It's raining and windy, and the rain and cool air must be bringing some hope to the people of that terrible Black Saturday. I feel the refreshment of the cold air on my face and I relish it like I have never relished it before.
Many of us survived the hottest day on record under what we thought was a terrible duress, and unbeknown to us a good number of innocent and precious people were fighting for their lives and losing. Many lost all they had ever owned , lost their people, and their beautiful natural environment that day. They lost all they knew of their material life, only to face a blackened world and have to start again.

This cold wet wind makes me feel their grief again, and also brings me joy and hope for healing and new beginnings - a return to some semblance of secure life again.
I only know of people who were lost- I lost no-one personally.
But I know I still feel loss.

And it's a hard rain's gonna fall.....

Some thoughts about the terrible tragedy unfolding in Victoria, where at least 173 people have perished in a holocaust of untameable proportions...
Living here in Geelong we are not too far away from potential disaster; fires visited and decimated here in 1983, and people remember only too well how traumatic it can be.
I listen to the ABC broadcasts, read the papers and chat on facebook all day long- trying to feel connected to these poor people wandering about in their soot and ashes; bereft, burnt and heartbroken, they have lost everything that defined their lives. Many have lost loved ones as well, and in the most dramatic and horrific circumstances. To lose loved ones suddenly is bad enough, but in an inferno is traumatic beyond belief. One can only guess at what they have suffered as they died- trapped, starved of oxygen, burning, in agony and beyond help. No wonder the living look shell shocked and dumbstruck.

Watching them, hearing their stories, I am awash with the sense of helplessness, the grief and total vulnerability they now have to deal with. They are dependent for food, for clothing, for toiletries, for shelter, for dignity itself.
But that is the beauty of what is happening , especially in the recovery centre that is the village of Whittlesea. I'm sure there are others out there, but Whittlesea is getting all the publicity and media, as the area around there and Kinglake,(and Marysville, Strathewen )are where the fires ripped through without warning and with a voracity that was unparalleled anywhere. Villages were literally wiped off the earth.
The people of Whittlesea, where the fire largely left them unscathed, have opened themselves up to the homeless and scorched, and has become a hub of beneficence and succour. People are being reunited there with loved ones and neighbours they thought they might have lost.They are having their basic needs taken care of. There they are speaking to counsellors, to one another and to the media about their respective ordeals. While some of them will leave never to return, others are rallying and shoring one another up, and perhaps considering how they might one day rebuild their community and carry on as an entity again.

But they are still a community. They are functioning.
Yesterday I thought I was jealous of them, and wishing I was a part of what had happened. How perverse of me!
I wondered if I was a bit mental for feeling this way.
But then I realised today it was their community I was jealous of.

Lately I have been feeling a surge of zeal for the ideals of community- of maybe establishing a garden where I could help in the sharing of God's love and healing with the wider community, and people who were disenfranchised; dealing with poverty and loneliness.
I really want to share my vision and somehow stir up some sort of enthusiasm in my peers at church, to get them on board with the idea of gardening and communal sharing that would maybe appeal and draw people into the church, and ultimately into faith in Christ.

I know my 'surge' of zeal, my passion may be somewhat uninformed, but hopefully isn't too far wrong from what God wants (from me, at least). I am not an expert gardener, but I do enjoy being in the garden, and am excited about producing actual food in the garden. I do think that simple, outdoor manual work, done in community with others, is a great healing tool for the mind, body and soul. I can think of a few people now, who might benefit from this sort of activity.

I hope that somewhere, sometime this year I will find a channel for this dream of mine. I hope I can find some other people who might catch the vision and join me in my quest to see a "Healing Garden" established somewhere, I'm hoping as a part of my church's outreach into the community.
Hearing about the suffering in the fire affected areas I feel like I want to be there to help, to listen and to comfort. I am further encouraged in the idea that Chaplaincy and pastoral care are what God is leading me and guiding me into.

A little bit more...

This is in lieu of any really clever or interesting thing I have to say, but I thought I would just come back to say I am still alive and kicking in the blog world.