Shalom, Shanthi, te Rangimārie o te Atua

 

Shalom

 

The stresses of hours – seven, heading for eight – spent chasing ignis fatuus across etherland, stuttered to an unproductive end.

Potentially unproductive. Helpful public librarians helped me transmit documents to offices unseen. Far beyond new-found Planet Nine. On a Saturday.

Thank you for contacting us. We value your custom. We will get back to you in the next millennium. Or before the Second Coming. Whichever comes last.

Thank God for old friends. An afternoon of convivial memories, laughter, voices raised in joy not torment. Nightmare of bureaucracy abates. Heavens to Betsy – or Murgatroyd –  I even forgot the All Blacks were playing. They won without my help.

Sleep. Ah, sleep. One thing I do well. Until I don’t, often by stupid o’clock, but never mind.

At the risk of sounding pious, I like to do the churchy thing on Sunday. And no, I am not one of those  – I’ll say it – pretentious clergy who feel the need to wear a stupid plastic collar on their holidays. I like to touch base with the Creator and fellow journeyers when I can.

I checked for the local God-pad of my flavour, and, accompanied (to my delight), by Daughter Unit # 5 and family,  trundled off to the local.

Church. Not Pub. I’ve been to the fine local pub before. Or at least the alehouse. And, my, that is good. 

So was the church. A warm welcome from a small congregation. Child friendly, no glares, verbal navigation for those of us unfamiliar with the vagaries of the local liturgy. Liturgy with all the sacramental ingredients but a kinda folksy, “this is perfectly natural” touch, a form of lectio divina for a sermon … this was a place where I could make a spiritual home.

The universe was a kinder place to be than it was 24 hours earlier.

Time to move, Next Daughter Unit, Please.

Hurtle down the freeway to the big city. A rural fringe thereof. Mobs of kangaroos for neighbours. Dinner with ##s 1& 2 and attachments. Horses, hay, dogs ... the things that life is made of.

Yes, my privileged life-journey is a fine place to be.

Comments

  1. Peter Hotchkin23 July 2025 at 06:17

    You're sounding much better in this post than yesterday. I almost sent the Lifeline phone number to you. I'm enjoying the blog and it seems a much more "Michael way" to talk about your jauntey (a mash-up of jaunt and journey) than a series of FB posts.

    ReplyDelete

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