Perelandra

5 more days until the internet is switched off. My wife and I are returning to our home soil in less than 3 months, and due to this, we have had to cancel our internet / phone line etc. The net has become such a integral element in my life… Integral is not the right word - maybe some time away will do me good. Anyway, so I guess this is goodbye for a while - I’ll leave you with a few more words I jotted down the other night; please note, that this stuff is pretty raw, I guess that could be a good thing - please excuse spelling, structure and everything else that should be found in ‘good’ writing, this is just me, doing something I love to do, but am not necessarily good at…

My Raindrop

A raindrop fell onto a roof , from the roof to a tree, from the tree its journey continued as it cascaded down the early winter leaves. It moved along fast, and I followed its journey as best I could. It had come from a place unbeknown to me. Created through a process I am told exists yet barely understand. Somewhere during its fall from the foliage its path met the paths of others like it. It formed a bond with the others as together they moved and created something stronger, something faster and more confident.

So I lost focus of the raindrop. I felt a strange sense of pity for it, for to my mind it had lost its independence, its freedom. In my mind at that moment I neglected to notice the contribution my raindrop friend had made. That the flow of water that formed by my feet would be one raindrop less strong without it.

I looked again towards the rooftop and the tree to see if I could find another raindrop to replace the one whose path I had lost. Truly I found countless more falling and flowing in a fashion so similar to the first that I could have fooled myself into thinking they were the same. Yet my first raindrop’s journey could not be replaced. It beckoned to me and reminded me that there were none truly quite like it. Surely this first raindrop’s life was not lost. Maybe it was more alive now than before?

For now my raindrop had touched the lives of others, and in turn been touched. In a truly unselfish act, my raindrop had sacrificed it’s freedom and oneness to be part of something bigger. I looked to the stream that had started before me and imagined my raindrop somewhere within its flow. The stream moved along a particular path and I wondered if my raindrop had influenced this. Was my raindrop the catalyst for the particular path of this stream? Had my raindrop saved the stream from a direction of destruction?

These questions floated around inside my mind as the stream my raindrop had helped form picked up wayward leaves and floated them away. Oh the selflessness of my raindrop’s stream, to carry another with no thought of reward or recognition. And then I thought of my raindrop’s future.

I hoped in my head and my heart that my raindrop would not forget itself. Not forgo its purpose as it was whisked along in the current. If the path it was on became selfish, if the fruit of the stream became destructive, I hoped my raindrop would know the time to leave. I wondered, if the need to redirect the path of the stream came, would other raindrops listen to the words of my friend? Would the actions of my raindrop inspire others?

I pray my raindrop has the confidence to do what is right and good. I pray my raindrop continues to embrace other raindrops regardless of where they are from, where the have been or what they have done. Oh the beauty of my raindrop’s potential astounds me! To be part of the force behind a majestically roaring waterfall, or the awesome vast sea that lies before a setting sun. To bring new life to a place dry and barren. My raindrop could freely give as it has received. My raindrop could feed the feet of a forest, bring hope to a farmer in need.

So my raindrop fell from a place on high, to a roof, from the roof to a tree. I feel blessed for this raindrop fell before me.

MJP

Sitting down with a can of beer the other Friday night, I started scribbling with my pencil, captured a few words from my brain… typed a sample up here;

Shalom
Up, up, up

to the top of a hill,

Nature surrounds me,

silent and still.

I shout out a sound

deep from within,

And wait for the echo

to shortly begin.

And then my mind wanders

as it quite often will,

To follow the journey

of my song on the hill.

As my cry wakes up magpies

and crows in their trees,

I wonder, ‘What if my call carried

far out over seas’?

Would it be heard

in a far distant land,

By someone quite like me

on a hill made of sand?

Or by one who lies waiting

for this very word to come,

Someone who needed

this song to be sung.

My word to the stranger

who to me is unknown,

Is a word of great beauty

a word called Shalom.

Have been drawn to this website a few times now;

Miniature Earth Project

It’s a really challenging thing. The fact that by statistical standards I am considered rich. I watched a promotional video for a “Christian” conference today. The clip showcased a media bonanza - packed with cool lighting, cool people, cool backing music, and even a cool giant ‘thousand’ person pillow fight… I couldn’t help but feel ashamed about the amount of money spent on such trivial things, when put into the context of statistics such as the ones outlined in that website and countless others… What are we doing as Christians, what am I doing? I feel the need to speak out about such things, but also know that if I do, it would be completely hypocritical. I don’t want to be a hypocrite this year.

Come as you are, that’s how I want you

Come as you are, feel quite at home

Come to my heart, loved and forgiven
Come as you are, why stand alone?
No need to fear, love sets no limits
No need to fear, love never ends
Don’t run away, ashamed and disheartened
Rest in my love, trust me again
I came to call sinners, not just the virtuous
I came to bring peace, not to condemn
Each time you fail, to live by my promise
Why do you think, I’d love you the less?
Come as you are, that’s how I love you
Come as you are, trust me again
Nothing can change, the love that I bear you
All will be well, just come as you are.

My Nanna loved that Hymn, I’m not even sure who it is written by. The tune and words remain in my mind, and have for as long as I can remember. It reminds my of my Nan, she was an awesome woman, a life so honestly and beautifully following the Lord.

So, I guess this Hymn, or at least the words, remind us to come home. Remind us that we are loved, regardless. How many times will we be forgiven? I feel a little lost at this point in my life. I feel a little bit small, and weak. But, the foundation is solid. There is a rock that will never let me sink further than I can handle.

Shalom

mjp