Seek not to understand

September 10th, 2009

Seek not to understand that you may believe, but believe that you may understand.
St. Augustine

Peeking round the church door

September 10th, 2009

If, as our Pastor preached last week, my life’s map is drawn by God, then that map has been coloured in by my children.

One’s personal salvation is unique – an amalgam of emotion, spirit, enlightenment, sensation and faith, brought together in one time and one place – just for that individual.

For some, salvation is found in the charged atmosphere of an altar call, for others it comes amid the conquering of an addiction.  For me, it was the quiet culmination of years of avoidance, searching and questions and was found through books and music, the prayers of my wife and the unquenchable grace I found in my children.

I can only guess at the influence of my wife’s prayers and whether they were answered or not, for they were silent or at least never in my hearing.  However, I doubt that it is is merely coincidence that you’ll find a slim book on one of our bookshelves called ‘The Power of A Praying Wife’.

Along with the rest of the family, I read a great deal – which is not always a good thing – but I enjoy seeing through other’s eyes; the opportunities for learning and the challenging of my assumptions that reading offers.  This being the case, it might seem strange that I didn’t turn to the Bible for the answers I sought – well, not to begin with anyway.

Of the all the authors I read in my quest to find answers, there were two who helped guide me across the line between ‘stubborn and curious atheist’ and ‘stubborn and curious Christian’ – Francis Collins and C.S. Lewis.

As a renowned geneticist and director of The Human Genome Project, Francis Collins might not be the obvious choice for those seeking God.  However, in his book ‘The Language of God’, Collins sets out a strong and balanced case that science and faith do not have to be mutually exclusive.

In the book, Collins describes how, early in his career as a physician, he encountered a woman suffering from severe angina who appeared to take great comfort in her faith.  During a conversation one day, she put the young Collins on the spot by asking him what he believed. The question shook him. A staunch atheist up to that point, he wrote, “suddenly all my arguments seemed very thin, and I had the sensation that the ice under my feet was cracking.”   While Collins’ theistic-evolutionist stance will trouble some of you I’m sure, his argument for faith was the best I had heard up to that point.

Like thousands of others, the writing of C.S. Lewis provided me with great insight and great comfort as I read of his coming-to-faith.  Lewis compared his conversion to waking up from a sleep, “a long sleep” he called it.  He became aware that his blindness to God had been what he described as a “willful blindness” – a phrase that perfectly reflected my own state through the years.

Around the same time I was reading Lewis’ Mere Christianity, I was introduced to Brooke Fraser’s music through my girls.  Listening to her CD in the car, I was struck by the lyrics of one song in particular:

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here […]
Am I lost or just less found?
On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free,
wanting to come alive?
‘Cause my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
And avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become.

These words really spoke to me for they described the type of growing uncertainty and anxiousness I was feeling.  So you can imagine the God moment I felt when I finished my journey, looked down at the CD cover and discovered the song was called ‘The C.S. Lewis Song’.

As someone once wrote, Lewis had resisted God because he wanted to be his own lord.  But he also realized that Jesus was the deepest Joy for which he had been longing since he was a boy.  After his surrender to Christ he experienced a peace and delight he had never known before.  I found that same peace and delight one evening when my wife left a note on my pillow, pointing me to Jeremiah 29:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.  In those days when you pray, I will listen.  If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.  I will be found by you,” says the Lord.”

In that one passage were the exact words describing where I was in my journey at that moment.  For the first time since I left the Quaker Meeting for Worship I had last attended 30 years before, I found myself in a place where I was able to conceive of and accept the existence of God.

As Easter approached, I continued to struggle with the fact that Jesus Christ died for my sins and that my salvation was secured through a Father’s sacrifice of His only Son.  As a father of four beautiful girls, I found this simply too hard to comprehend and I floundered, failing to understand that my self-reliance and intellectual reasoning were the proverbial planks in my eyes preventing me from seeing the bigger picture.

The girls were involved in the Easter production at church and, dropping them at rehearsals one day, I peeked round the door to see what was going on.  No-one seemed to notice so I watched for a while.  Before I knew it, I had been co-opted into the stage crew by the director and was helping rig lights and shift scenery – all stuff I was familiar with and enjoyed doing.

In the weeks that followed, to no greater surprise than my own, I spent more time in a church than I had since our wedding and the girls’ christenings.  At one rehearsal, I looked up and saw that two of my girls were on stage dancing to Michael Smith’s worship song, ‘Above All’.  During that dance, I finally saw myself as broken and, squatting in the hushed dark of the sanctuary, I gave my life to Christ.

Like a typical bloke, I didn’t tell anyone.  I felt shocked and relieved, confused and elated all at once.  My stubborn pride sewed my lips shut and I carried my salvation like a secret through each performance hoping that, in the dark, no-one would see the tears in my eyes or the stupid grin on my face.

God knew I needed another push to get me across the line and he chose the after-show party to make sure I heard Him loud and clear.  In thanking everyone for their help on the show, the director said that she wanted to single out a woman who had, without fuss and with a servant heart, helped out wherever it was needed during the production.

To this day, I don’t recall the director’s exact words or the examples she gave but I do remember thinking that, whoever the woman was, she must be a mighty woman of God.  When the director spoke my daughter’s name, the axis of my world shifted irrevocably for the second time in as many weeks.  I baled out the church hall fire doors wondering how it was that others saw things in my own children that I had missed.  That night, when I went to tuck them into bed and kiss them goodnight, I swallowed my pride, got on my knees and asked my two youngest to teach me how to pray.

Since then, I have continued to grow in faith and I have learned much that I can share with my own girls and the fantastic kids at our Friday intermediate youth club.  From those early days of reading anything but the Bible, my Bible collection has grown considerably.  Just this week, I was happy to pass on my first study Bible to my to the daughter in whom others saw so much.

As an older ‘young’ Christian, there are two pieces of Scripture I would like to speak into your hearts and leave you with on this Father’s Day.  For the parents, grown ups and older siblings, my sharing is from Psalm 127:

“Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.”

And for all the children and young people here, I can find no better words than those of Paul in 1 Timothy 4:12:

“Don’t let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity.”

Try and keep these in your hearts – because you never know when the next lost soul will be peeking round the church door.

Peeking round the church door: a father’s testimony

Father’s Day Service, Sunday 6th September 2009

funkypancake is on the move

August 14th, 2009

In late breaking news from the old country, dear friend and photoblogger extraordinaire Dave has announced his imminent relocation to New Zealand with his lovely family.

Following a scouting trip back last Easter, when the FP family stayed in our house while we were away, they have decided to move to Aotearoa.  Having trod the same path four years ago, we have been pleased to pass on what knowledge and experience we gleaned to David and Jane during their deliberations.

We look forward to seeing them in October!

Estimation

July 20th, 2009

While I don’t always understand the strip, when I do xkcd can make me laugh out loud.

Imogen Heap : First Train Home : first listen

July 11th, 2009

imogen-heap-ellipse-album-art

Imogen Heap is an artist who has embraced and used the internet to the fullest extent possible in the production and promotion of her music.

Earlier this week, she and some of her Twitter feed fans used the same technologies to chase down some of those responsible for the online auctioning of a pre-release CD of her forthcoming album, Ellipse.  Having bid the auction up to £10M for the watermarked CD, she had the satisfaction of seeing the auction closed down and reading the staunch denials of the journo the CD was sent to and his editor.

The fun over, she headed off to the States where she’s currently doing promotional interviews across the US.  The Heap faithful there were able to attend a number of small ‘happenings’ and hear live previews of a number of songs from Ellipse.  For those of us elsewhere in the world keen to hear the long-awaited material, Stereogum provides the chance to hear the first single First Train Home.

Spot on, Google Ads!

July 11th, 2009
mcss

Spot on, Google Ads!

Reading my friend funkypancake’s RSS feed  this morning, I was amused by how Google Ads eerily picked up on the word ‘cult’.

Squeaky Clean Mighty Mouse

June 23rd, 2009

Like a fair few Mac users before me, I have had more than one or two issues with my Mighty Mouse.  I have tried the ‘clean the ball by rolling on a cloth upside down’ method on a number of occasions but the results never seem to last for long.  Sooner rather than later, I end up losing the ability to scroll up or down or both.

After swapping out my Mighty Mouse for an RS-inducing mini travel mouse yesterday and in the full certainty of voiding my warranty, this evening I got the tools out and dissected my mouse.  Following the advice and pictures on a number of websites, including mightymouserepair.com, a post on theory.isthereason and another on shirster’s blog, I prodded, poked, levered and flexed my way into the mouse.  Once inside and having disconneted the ribbon cables, I disassembled the workings, cleaned the ball assembly and casing with isopropyl alcohol and then reversed my actions to rebuild my squeaky clean mouse.  After a quick check to ensure all was well and the ribbons were reseated properly, I reattached the outer ring with a few dabs of a weaker glue than Apple’s Chinese assembly folk use (my guess is that I’ll need to do this again) and taped it to set overnight.

There’s a few scratches on the case from slips of my craft knife and the warranty is toast but, given that I was looking at NZ$111 plus carriage to replace it, I’d say that I had nothing to lose and came away with a result.  So, if your Mighty Mouse isn’t working and you have more time than money, dig out your tools and dissect that mouse.

Swine flu over the cuckoo's nest

June 15th, 2009

Swine Flu I 5 Sign

Telecom New Zealand and Vodafone must be making an absolute fortune from all the teenage texting that must be going on right now.

Today, it transpired that 450 Westlake Girls High School students are to be in home isolation for the week after a ‘swine flu student had contact with almost 200‘. While we’re far from sure that she had direct contact with the lass concerned it would seem that, after spending part of the weekend at a birthday sleep-over, one of them could well be my daughter.

An interesting spin-off from this piece of news is that when I reported this tenuous connection to my employer (as required by our pandemic response plan), it was suggested that I work from home for a few days to see if I develop symptoms. This is ironic for several reasons. Firstly, I have only recently recovered from one bout of headcold/flu symptoms. Being paid to work from home whilst waiting to see if I succumb again would be much more enjoyable if I didn’t have a major project to deliver in the coming weeks. Secondly, as a trained incident manager working for a ‘lifeline’ utility company, I am one of those responsible for the aforementioned pandemic response plan (part of larger incident response and business continuity plans). This being the case, I find myself amusingly hoisted by my own pertard.

After checking the Ministry of Health’s website for Q&As on non-seasonal Influenza A (H1N1), I called Healthline to get advice and check if I can be tested to rule infection out. The comforting answer from the nice lady was that she had ‘no information on testing’ so, after updating my HR folks, I settled into a day of being politely hassled for board papers via email by my CEO’s executive assistant.

I’m off for a long lie down.

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Antonio Carluccio

June 10th, 2009

© Antonio Carluccio

Just turned to the Food Channel on the TV and caught an episode of ‘Southern Italian Feast’ presented by my all-time favourite foodie Antonio Carluccio.   It’s hard to believe that I first watched this show on the BBC ten years ago back in England.

After picking up some marvelous ingredients in Palermo’s Vucceri Market, Carluccio cooks a simple Tonno al Forno con Salmoriglio (Baked Pasta with Herbs) which he served with Zucchini al Pomodoro e Basilico (Courgettes with Tomato and Basil).  While samoriglio (a mortar-and-pestled mxture of herbs, garlic and oil) is usually used to dress steamed or grilled fish, Carluccio dressed the tuna steaks before baking, adding a few pine nuts and breadcrumbs for added texture.

We have friends coming over at the weekend and, for once, I know exactly what I’m going to cook ahead of time!

Time Out Bookstore

June 6th, 2009

Time Out Bookstore in Auckland’s Mount Eden is everything you can ask for in a neighbourhood bookshop.  It is cosy, inviting, bursting with great books and staffed by lovely, engaging and knowledgeable folk who’ll happily offer an opinion on whatever you’re flicking through – or leave you to browse quietly.  They have fun author nights in the room upstairs and send out a really enticing snail mail newsletter periodically.

The Winter 2009 newsletter arrived today.  Glancing across the front page, I found a great typo and thought I would gently pull the leg of Wendy, Jane and the Time Out team.

For the Northern hemisphere folk scratching their heads, Normanby Road is a road with a few trendy eateries not far from the store and Normanby is a small township just north of Hawera.