our ways are not God's ways

our ways are not God’s ways

This afternoon the clouds float in the blue skies, riding in the invisible winds above this city. To us, they appear tranquil and slow, even, gradually transforming into abstract fluffy shapes, reflecting the midday sunlight. But we are on the ground, and they are kilometres high in the atmosphere. To be in the midst of them would be ice cold and howling winds, turbulent air and not enough…

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Some days You might miss how special they were #daybyday #trees #grass #nature #water https://www.instagram.com/p/CPLYxu0sSEv/?utm_medium=tumblr

To be free to discover adventure and curiosity anew; To appreciate life and the world and at how air can sparkle; To live - Even if for a moment. #forest #amomentofwonder #bluemountains #sydney #australia #day https://www.instagram.com/p/COf6EHmMotF/?igshid=1ib3fap8rwfhe

The heart matters #quote #motherteresaquotes https://www.instagram.com/p/COf5MPkMJPy/?igshid=1h1fkzhd3nmq6

When morning comes And evening fades I’ll see your face #wild #flora #sydney #autumn2021 https://www.instagram.com/p/COYH9ris3yv/?igshid=117gu2jlhp6cg

time, passing by

I can’t explain the thoughts that cross my head at times, especially at night. I’m left wondering what fog I stumble around in at times, when someone asks me what I’m thinking about – and I find I’ve been thinking abstractly about three or four different things, avoiding a few others, and actively trying not to think about one or two. It becomes obvious that I don’t know myself very well. Oh,…

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underground

One thousand metres below, one kilometre into a deep black hole of rabbit warrens criss-crossing, contradicting, and cancelling each other. Tunnels which collapse and send projectiles hurtling overhead to duck, yet are well trodden still, mostly without maintenance. If there were grey clouds here, if there was sunshine here, if there was nature beyond crumbling rock, dirt and earthworms, we see…

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Dog Walks,  Northcote, VIC

3070

tendonitis

It’s not a hard walk to take. In fact, it takes all of fifteen minutes to walk slowly – concrete paths that pass Victorian era houses and gardens bursting with various plant life, past primary school and half-empty shops, across a bitumen road to the train station. But I remember the sensation when each step was a world of pain of its own: searing pain increasing as the pressure down increases,…

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Light up the way of your heart Move me like you do the mountains Move me like you do the wind And I'll chase your voice Through the dark Fix my eyes on the unexpected In the wonder of your shadow-step So take another step 🎵 🍍☀️🐚✨❤️🐥🌴🌱 #shadowstep #lightupmypath #Christyesterdaytodayforeverthesame #thefutureisyours #sydney #life #pathways

degrees of freedom

I stare at my photo wall, a series of pictures depicting the life cycle of an onion. From a tiny black seed; to a tiny worm-like shoot; to a bent green hairpin with a black pinhead end; to a straggly green stalk; to a tiny onion bulb, devoid of greenery. That is one year in the life of an onion. It barely looks like it’s surviving, in that first year. Struggling through the black dirt, the green…

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cramp

How do I explain this? When I stand for too long at work, looking down at words and figures and applying labels to boxes – between my shoulder blades, and shooting down to my arms and over my spine, a numb sort of pain begins… At first it’s bearable, then it makes me arch my back, shuffle position, bend over sideways, bend my neck back… I wrote this a year ago, with an inward sigh and despair at…

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a blue sky

On a clear day, with the sun shining brightly and warm colours dancing, I watch the dust pass by in golden specks and wonder. Leaves and grass are green due to chlorophyll. Photosynthesis, and all the energy-making activity for the plants, are at their highest peak. That specific wavelength of light being rejected from the plants are registered in our eyes as different shades of green. But the…

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spring comes.

Quiet, soft My Saviour calls Insistent on my attention The night is hard with darkness Only weak lights break the black I watch the waters pass Waves glisten dark with deep unknown The life that I have led Has passed and spring Is here Soils darkened with harrowing cold Are warming with frail sun Where there was death here once Seeds are sown to bear life anew Your voice calls within me A peace that shines past shadow A hope that lifts through spiteful depths A love that crushes screaming pain A joy that soars above fleeting rain Quiet, soft My Saviour calls In His arms I nestle still My secret place, my safe refuge In Jesus is my life a truth. [ writing blog ]

at Little Mountain