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Ever find yourself drifting along mentally when doing a menial task you dont enjoy doing? A task that needs to be done, which dosent require thinking just doing. That happens to me when I have to work in the garden. We are into summer here, and with it the start of the rainy season, the electrical thunder storms, strong winds and of course the profusion of plant life. From the winds aftermath the clearing of the debri, broken branches twigs and leaves. Rain dosent make only the garden grow, but weeds and syringa berries too. I'm often amused at the irony of planting trees, digging the hole, preparing the soil, the compost, manure; planting and care just to get it to grow where I really want it to grow. The syringa berry will grow where it falls with thousands of others to keep it company all where I dont want them. It was in uprooting what seemed a thousand of them, though probably only fifty odd, I thought of trees and seeds. In Matthew :13, we find the parable of the sower, we

I had a dream last night. I dreamt that everything I cherish was stripped away from me, almost like Job, in the old testament. In the midst of this despair and confusion a man stood before me, bare footed long hair and a long beard, clothed in tattered rags. His eyes were piercing looking straight into me as he said " I want you to come with me. I want you to meet God." I was scared yet I followed him. Why was I scared? I believe God to be kind, loving merciful and compassionate. Not harsh judgemental or unforgiving. So why was I scared? Was I scared because I was guilty? How often has guilt stood in my way of wanting to meet with God? As the Psalmist wrote, "you know my every thought." God has promised if I confess he will forgive, maybe I need to forgive myself. The beggar took me inside me, to look at myself as I really am; not giving God the glory and credit for all the things that go well in my life; the sometimes seeming unsurmountable obstacles that I overc

If somebody had to ask you a few months or a year from now, "What did you do whilst innocent, unarmed people were murdered in Burma?", what would you say you did? I would have to say: "I just sat and cried." If they had to ask you, "What could you have done?", what would you say? I'm just an ordinary guy trying to be a humble scribe, I don't have any friends or even aquaintances in high places with pull, or an inside track to media, or the right ears. I'm not rich or famous, I don't even know anyone who is. Watching the scenes on TV of the events in Burma, I was left stunned, shocked into silence; I just sat and cried. I went into the Net. Again, I just sat and cried when I visited Blogging for Burma . I felt even more helpless, I wanted to say something, do something. Lack of skill with words leaves me robbed of having anything to say. If I could climb through this screen right now, I would take your hand on the mouse and go into Bloggi

Some time ago, a few years ago actually, a friend and I went to a beautifull part of South Africa; the Golden Gate area, part of the Drackensberg mountain range. My friend a short cropped I.T yuppie in his early twenties, me an aging hippy, long hair and beard lacking only the peace medalion. We went for the week between Christmas and new year, to plan for the upcoming year the marketing of products that we had decided to pool together for weekend trading. The caravan park and camping site where we chose to stay had horse and hiking trails, in the surrounding sandstone mountain areas; the hiking trails included fossilised sites as well as alcoves with San rock art, George was also scared of horses so we took the hiking trails. The first morning before we set off I noticed he was filling bottles of water from a tap and putting them into a shoulder bag, he saw me watching him,he asked me where was my water, I pointed to the mountains. George made it clear if I wasnt going to take water