I just finished reading Twilight. It's that vampire romance that girls like to read. I read it because most of the girls in my youth group love it, so I thought I should check it out.

I can understand why girls like it but it really didn't do it for me at all. I'd read Jodi Picoult over this any day.

The story is about Bella, a 17 year old high school student who falls in love with Edward a 17 year old looking vampire.

The biggest issue is that through out the whole book there is almost no violence. If I'm reading a vampire book I'm expecting a bit of action. There was almost nothing. I had to wait till the last four chapters before anything remotely actionish happened at all. Then when the action did happen, the main character was unconscious for it, and seeing as it's a first person narrative, we never hear about it. There was only one scene where blood got sucked but it was to save someone's life and it was just out of a hand. What's up with that?

Second I can't see why no one else seems to find it creepy that the vampire is 104 years old, while the girl he is in love with is only 17. Just because he looks young doesn't make it ok.

But the good thing is, even if he is 104 years old, he has the wisdom of a 16 year old and emotions to go with it. He seems to spend most of the book brooding, giving dark stares and having flashes of anger. He keeps saying things like "I need to leave you alone, but I can't. All the time I spend with you I put you in danger, so I'm guess I'm being selfish." You think? You would hope that for a good vampire who is 104 years old he would have figured out by now that just because something makes you feel good it doesn't mean it is good. On the other hand, humans tend to have an ability to be exceedingly selfish all their lives, especially when it comes to love. So I'll give him that. I just don't think it's romantic.

Third Bella is rather annoying. It seems like every time he looks at her or touches her, she forgets how to breath. Literally. It's not even a dumb figure of speech, she actually stops breathing. At one point he's so wonderful when they kiss, she passes out. One feels that maybe you're not ready for a serious relationship if you can't manage to maintain the most basic of human functions in the presence of your love interest.

Consider these genuine quotes:

"He was right there, his face so close to mine. His beauty stunned my mind-it was too much, an excess I couldn't grow accustomed to.
...
He took my face in my hands again.
I couldn't breath." - Pages 246-247

"He pressed his cool lips delicately to my forehead, and the room spun. The smell of his breath made it impossible to think... His fingers traced slowly down my spine, his breath coming more quickly against my skin. My hands were limp on his chest, and I felt lightheaded again. He tilted his head slowly and touched his cool
lips to mine for the second time, very carefully, parting them slightly.

And then I collapsed.

"Bella?" His voice was alarmed as he caught me and held me up.

"You… made… me… faint," I accused him dizzily." - Page 279

"Edward's hands lingered at my neck, brushed along my collarbones. I gave up trying to help him and just concentrated on not hyperventilating." - Page 314

You see what I'm saying? At one point they kiss and her heart literally stops beating.

Anyway, I'm glad I read the book. Now I know what the fuss is about. I don't really have a problem with people reading it. But I doubt I'll be picking up the sequels anytime soon.

One of my favourite things on my computer is when a program crashes and then the program that tells me that the program has crashed crashes. It makes me smirk.

I'm back from camp and totally famous!

And now I'm at Black Stump. I'm not actually at Black Stump. I'm at home. This is the first time in about 15 years I'm not camping. But I'm doing the Black Stump thing. I'm going call it a camp though, just so I can say I went straight from camp to camp.

Last week's camp was much fun. I did enjoy myself, the leaders were quality, the campers quality, and there was plenty of laughs so I'm happy.

That could be about in depth as my debrief of camp gets. Probably because it's a whole weeks worth and most of it's not that interesting if you weren't there.

Yesterday however was a tad remarkable. Mainly because it was full. I packed up a camp, had a beer, visited the Pa (Happy Birthday!), drove to Stump, did tech for the Breakthru' show (I was DVD man, "Play,pause,play,skip,pause" in that order) then was calling the next Breakthru' show. The second show was 8 acts long and I was meant to be in the sound and lighting desk on coms telling the lighting and sound guys what to do and when. This was a little stressful because 1) I've never seen the show before, 2) I've never called a show before, 3) I was so tired I was having difficultly stringing sentences together.

In the end the CD of all the music for the show got lost, so the show became 3 pieces long, rather than 8. While this is sad for the Breakthru' people, from my standpoint I was rather relieved. I'm calling the show again today, but I at least am feeling a little less tired.

I did find that getting to Black Stump and being surrounded by a whole new bunch of people, made me miss the ones I was surrounded by for the last week. I guess that's a good response to have to the camp. It probably means I liked the people.

I also found that getting to Black Stump and feeling stuffed made me rather grumpy. I was having difficulty being positive. Hopefully today will be better.

I should probably put some pants on now and get ready for being an amazing tech guy.

I'm currently on Camp.

Not right now. Right now I'm in my church office. But I was on camp up until about 2 hours ago, and I'll be back there tonight.

I'm on a week long youth camp, as the speaker. Being the speaker definitely has its perks. I've been put this week in the best speaker's accommodation I've ever had. I'm in a unit on site with a bedroom, bathroom, full kitchen (with fridge and microwave), a lounge, a dining table and a TV and video.

It's sweet.

It's very tempting never to come out of my unit.

The odd thing about this camp is that they've brought daylight saving forward by a week. This means that everything is happening an hour earlier then we think it is. It's like we've created a whole different timezone on camp. Plus they've taken all the campers watches and phones from them so a lot of them don't know that last they lost an hour's sleep.

Right now they're probably just finishing up dinner and it's only 5:30. It's nuts. But a rather good idea.

Anyway, I should get back to doing work, I didn't leave just to leave. I have a few things to attend to.

So my van as a little problem. The backing on the inside of my boot has come off and has this whole exposed glue section. In the old days the glue used to get on things. But I tested it on Friday and it didn't come off so I figured it was fine.

Anyway, coming home I packed my van carefully so that nothing was touching or would fall onto the back of the the boot.

Then just after I've packed the car a few more people come along and give me a whole bunch more bags, so I re-pack. And I think I've got it alright, but I didn't really look as hard the second time.

I get back to Sydney, open my boot and find one bag, just one, has fallen onto the boot, and the bag just happens to be a pink Country Road bag. Being a tiny bit in the know I understand that a Country Road bag, isn't just any old bag. It's a special, $60, "in" bag. And the bag isn't owned by someone who goes to my youth group, it's a visitor's.

Realising what I've done, I start feeling rather bad. I consider pretending I didn't see it and hope it doesn't get noticed till later. But I figure that's probably bad.

So I find the bag's owner, fess up, and feel bad. I offer to replace it, but she's being kind and telling me not to worry about it.

I still feel bad though. I considered taking her at her word and not worrying about it, but I did ruin a Country Road bag. So I kinda stewed in my own guilt for a while.

On Monday morning I headed off for the shops to find a new Country Road bag, I found them but couldn't find one the same. So I worried if I bought the wrong type I probably wouldn't fix the problem.

Then I started having images of me turning up to school and giving this girl a brand new $60 bag and everyone wondering why Tom the Scripture Guy is handing out expensive presents.

So I thought through other options, I checked the Country Road website, but there are no bags there (at least not the right ones) and there is no online shop.

I decided to sit on the issue for a day or two so yesterday I worried about it.

This morning I came up with the brilliant idea of a gift voucher. That solves the problem of ugly bag, strange presents and delivery (I can post a gift voucher).

I arrived at work, decided just to ask Rach's advice to make sure that she also thinks my idea is brilliant, and just as I turn around in my office to go over and talk to Rach, and I see on the floor, $60 with a note saying "To Tom, 1x Country Road Bag".

How odd. I couldn't really figure out who knew I was stressing about the bag so much that they'd want to pay for it.

It's strange. On the one hand I'm feeling way loved that someone would know how stressed this has made me that they'd pro-actively help out and pay for the whole thing.

On the other hand I got a little miffed that someone else is going to pay for the bag. I don't know who gave me the money so I can't give it back or say "Thank you". And they gave me the money for the bag so I can't spend it on anything else. So now I'm stuck with someone else paying for my mistakes, and I thought I'd solved them myself.

I've decided not to stew on it and feel loved, because it's a lovely thing for someone to do. Plus, it's also a rather fitting lesson for me about my own desire to earn my redemption. I should just be thankful but instead I feel annoyed that I can't do it myself. Gosh I'm dumb.

Isn't it amazing how you think you're doing fine, then someone does something loving and gracious and kicks you up the bum.

Tomorrow I'm off to Country Road to buy a gift voucher, and I'll thank Jesus for restoration of relationships and for people who teach me lessons and do really wonderful things at the same time. If the person who gave me the money was around I'd thank them too.

The Weekend was good. It was important in light of the previous post. Going on camp with the youth group was significant as I knew it would be my last.

Leading up to camp had been rather stressful. Trying to write talks, and figure out numbers. In the end we had about 15 less young people than we normally have on a camp. This was mainly due to the fact that we stupidly put the camp right in the middle of year 11 exams.

Anyway, the lack of people, along with the lack of commitment from our highly non-committal young people, (Though I generally quite like this trait because it also means spontaneity, and if you plan of people being last minute, it's good. When it comes to camps though usually it costs about $80 per person who doesn't turn up. So commitment is helpful to gauge numbers.) meant that I was feeling a little stressed. Even in the last 24 hours I had two people pull out and three people join up, and one person pull out and join back up again.

But as the time for camp drew near, calmness came upon me and I went into cruisy, Tom mode. And from that point on I was perfectly happy and un-stressed. Everything ran late, but I didn't really care, because I wasn't stressed, it was great.

We made it to camp late, sat down, had the rules, people laughed at me a bit (as is usually the case at these types of things) and then I had to tell them I was leaving. It was hard, I was stalling most of the night, I was very nervous. When I started talking I choked up a bit. I thought I might cry. I didn't but it was the closest I've come to crying in years. While I don't really want to cry, at least I know I'm not as cold hearted as I could be.

There were a few tears from the youth, a lot of shocked faces, a few people telling me I can't go. I kinda felt bad doing it. I know that the hardest thing about leaving will be leaving the people I minister to. So telling them you're going doesn't make much sense. When I'm with the youth group, I generally see no reason to leave.

But I am leaving, so I told them, and then we had supper, a bed time story and people went to bed.

Saturday was less intense. We had two talks, from me, about the kingdom of God. I did the "I'm leaving I can say what I want thing", so I told them all to keep being Christians.

We played a rather awesome three way game of capture the flag, involving water bombs. These games are always good fun. If people didn't get too competitive they'd be perfect, but alas you can't have every things.

The weather was amazing. The hottest day this half of the year. Special.

At night we played a murder mystery game. I played a sleazy Prince Charming who was actually Elvis. All the campers had to come in and interview me in groups about the murder. I did enjoy myself. I'm not sure I was all that helpful though.

The night finished with a camp fire with one big "In the store..." sing-a-long and peoples' testimonies. It was oh so very Christian but lovely and moving none the less.

Sunday was more talk, lots of packing up, a debrief and some warm and fuzzy letters.

That was camp really.

It was a pretty easy camp. Mostly stress free. No big injuries, no body got in trouble too much. It was the way I would have liked my last camp to have gone. So I'm happy.

Coming home I did manage to stuff things up a little. But that's another story for another post.

I announced to my church on Sunday that I'm going to be leaving them at the beginning of next year.

It had pretty much been a week of such announcements. I told my leaders on Monday night, my small group on Wednesday night, my youth group on Friday at Camp and then the church found out on Sunday.

I've been making the decision for about year. At least it was in September last year that I told Stephen that I might not be around for 2009 so they should start thinking about options.

It was a big decision to make. I've spent a lot of time praying and talking to people, trying to figure out what was right. I love my church very much. It's been a wonderful place to work, full of lovely, supportive people. And I really like the young people in my youth group. I really do reckon being a youth minister is one of the best jobs in the world, because teenagers are awesome.

But as many people know I am planning on going to the US in 2010. So I had to think about leaving my church at some stage. Having the new minister arrive this year has meant that next year will probably "vision" year. The year he starts the church he wants it to take for the next few years. It makes sense for me to go, and for someone else to come in for vision year, so that they can be better placed for long-term execution of the vision.

Plus next year, I really want to take a year off ministry to do work which isn't too demanding with people who aren't Christians. Living in my Christian bubble is lovely, but you get a little out of touch. Spending all your time talking about evangelism but rarely having opportunities to practice it seems a little hypocritical.

The other reason is that I want a break. I'm pretty tired. Not sleepy, but 6 years of ministry as a single guy takes it out of you. This church, and the youth ministry especially, have been my priority this whole time. It's taken up my weekends and many of my weeknights. And I have no regrets about this, it's been great. But you find that soon there is little outside your job that you're committed to, or able to commit to. I'd love to be able to spend some more time with friends and family. I'd love to be able to be part of my local community. I'd love to be able to leave my work at work. I'd love to be able to have my God not be my employer for at least a year.

I have no plans to leave ministry for good. I still plan on speaking and preaching in 2009 if people want me to. I'm just taking some time off. In fact, I'm pretty sure having a year of will make me a better kingdom worker rather than a worse one.

From here I don't know where God is leading me. I pretty sure I'm still called to ministry work but I don't know what type. But I guess we'll have to wait and see.

For the moment, I need to work hard at finishing well.

I got back from camp yesterday. It was good, pretty laid back, and rather important.

Shall blog the news later.

Two and a half hours till I go on camp.

Who would have thought trying to write talks and organise a camp at the same time wouldn't be easy? And trying to do it on to of scripture seminars, moving house, preaching and running the rest of the youth group. I thank God that I've got this far.

Yay for the Camp, but I can't wait till Monday.

Here's my next lunchtime conundrum: If you found out that your husband or wife was a robot, would you divorce them? Or is love love, no-matter what the object of your affection is?

I was just reminded at lunch of my regular conundrum. How does my body know how to process soup? How does it figure out if it's a liquid or a solid? It must be very confusing.

I'm so glad I am not my body or that would cause me many headaches.

I've been thinking a little bit lately about doubt and families with super-spiritual parents.

Over my time in youth ministry I've come across a number of young people who have been struggling with doubt. Some of them have super-spiritual parents who love Jesus. These young people often feel too scared to tell their parents how they're feeling. Sometimes it's because they're worried how much they'll hurt their parents when they tell them. Sometimes it's because they don't want their parents trying to convert them. Sometimes it's just because they don't think their parents will understand.

Sometimes doubt can be such a lonely place.

I think it's great that there are parents out there who are so into their faith that their kids can't see any doubt in them at all. On the other hand I wish parents could find a way to allow their kids to be real about where they're at. How can parents make sure their kids know they're going to be accepted and loved, wherever their at? And how can parents be people who are able to help, and encourage, and comfort in times of doubt?

I've not really figured this out, I'm not a parent.

As a youth minister I know that when young people of faith share their doubt with you, it's both special and painful. Special because they have trusted you with something that is very personal. Special because my job is faith, so to tell the youth minister you're not sure if he's got it right means that they feel probably safe from getting judged. It's painful because you don't want people there. You want people to be able to believe and trust in the love and promises God. It's painful because you know that apart from prayer, talking and listening there's little you can do. You can't grow faith in others, it's God who gives faith and God who takes it away.

I assume that for a believing parent, to hear about doubt from their kids, is probably bitter/sweet on a much greater scale. But it's gotta be better to be involved than to be kept out all together.

I've been watching a bit of Grand Designs lately. I'm pretty sure it's not what the youth of today a watching, a show about building homes, but I love it.

I've pretty much figured out how the show goes. Kevin McCloud introduces us to an impressive house, he meets the couple who are going build it, he tells us they're mad for even considering such a plan, then they build the house, things go wrong, then Kevin visits the house when it's built and talks it up. That's the show. And I love it.

Better than Pimp My Ride any day.

Just to conclude the community preaching saga.

If you wanna hear how it ended up with your input, you can listen here: 8am14-09-08.mp3 or you can just check the podcast if you're a subscriber.

Thanks for your help people. Apart from the good discussion, I think probably the most significant impact that came out of the whole process was the added discussion of not worshipping in a way that puts other people off.

I did consider going into the whole "body is a temple" deal. Or even into the "we are the temple" deal. But the passage talks about Jesus being the temple. And when you have 4 different temples flying around a passage, and three of those temples co-existing, it can get a little confusing.

Anyway thanks people. It was good fun. I should do it again sometime. Maybe next time I'll get you in on the planning level pre-draft, then it really would be a community sermon.

I'm up to draft two of the community sermon. I'm doing a test preach tonight with a test congregation (my preaching class). We'll see how it goes.

If you want to see the second draft and add your comments before Sunday rolls on around, go click the link below.

I'm enjoying this. Thanks for your help peoples. I'm listening.

Here's an idea I just had. it might be a stupid one, but I'm willing to give it a try. Yesterday I finished my first draft of my sermon for Sunday. "Why so early?" you ask, well because I'm doing a preaching course and the guy who's running it wanted to see a draft. So I did it.

Anyway here's my thought, what if I opened it up to everyone in the entire world to edit, comment on and add to. It could yield some interesting results. Of course, I wouldn't necessarily use your additions, but it could be fun. Plus I'm sure if I just let anyone put words in my mouth I could speak more rubbish than I already do. Some people might even see this as desecration of the art of preaching. I hope not.

But if you're interested, I have posted a copy on Google Docs that anyone can edit. So if you want to have a bash at influencing 40 people on a Sunday morning, go have a look, add a little, correct a little, do what you want and we'll see what happens. I'll be adding my additions as I make them so you can see how things progress.

I think this may only be an interesting exercise for preaching nerds, but hey, it could be fun.

Check it out here: http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=ddj4p7p3_54ctn8mrhs

I had an exam today for Theology. Lucky I like theology because I really dislike exams, especially on my day off. As usual I didn't study at all. But if you ask me I wrote a killer essay on God and his timelessness. I even had four scripture references. Don't ever say I'm not an evangelical.

I was thinking about it. It's probably a good thing I'm always too busy to study for exams because if I had time I wouldn't actually know what to do. I never really learnt to study. All I knew that it's a good idea to read stuff. Maybe write some notes or something. So being perennially busy means I never have to confront my inability to actually work out how to retain facts.

I was thinking that if killer robots invaded Earth I'd sign up for the Army straight away, because I don't think my pacifist tendencies extend as far as killer robots.

I'm pretty sure someone thought up that witty pun before me.

It seems a bit dumb that the biggest issue people can think to talk about Sarah Palin is that her daughter got pregnant. Though I can totally understand why it's embarrassing. McCain should have done better vetting. On the other who really cares, her daughter isn't running for Vice President and I doubt her mum encouraged the conception.

I also think it's funny the President Bush got relegated to an 8 minute satellite address at the Republican convention. Wasn't he a hit?

Though none of it is upsetting me that much because I'm going for Obama.

I'm currently sitting in an internet cafe in the city that used to kinda cool, kinda dingy. Now it's been spruced up with big screens, chairs that are classic gamer chairs. I'm not really sure what that is, but these certainly look like them.

I played a bit of Rainbow Six:Las Vagas 2 and I wasn't very good. But I had fun. I feel a little dumb playing games when I suck at them and I'm pretty sure that everyone around me is probably awesome. But what can you do.

This afternoon I went to the new house and sat on the back verandah and had my quiet time. It was nice. The sun is nice there and it was rather peaceful. I saw some birds.

I just spent about an hour trying to make a 2 minute video blog. But it didn't work. Shame.

Though it's late at night so probably my jokes wouldn't have worked in the morning anyway.

The car did get fixed and it only cost me $637! I was so happy to be back on the road and broke.

I've also started moving boxes into the new home, which is good fun. It feels like I'm actually moving. I've managed to move almost all my boxes. Only stuff left to move is my furniture and the mess on my floor! Amazing.

I discovered Entourage last night. And I finished Season 1 tonight. It wasn't a real big deal seeing as there are only 8 half hour episodes. But still it was good fun.

So I'm feeling a little more permanent. At little less and a little more. But I'm happy to be able to drive places and I'm happy to be able to have somewhere to live. These are good things.

I'm at work. The car dude was meant to be here at 12 to fix my car, he never turned up. I got stood up by a mechanic. I should ring him and ask him what's going on, but I'm not very good at confrontation. I should ring him and tell him that this is taking too long. 5 weeks to fix my car is a little bit long. But I'm not good at getting angry. I'm not even feeling angry. I just feel like I should call.

Update: I just called and left an almost apologetic message on his voice mail. But I did ask that he fix my car tomorrow if possible. It was very demanding of me.

I was about to go to bed but I got distracted by reading stuff about Mike Guglielmucci.

For those of you who haven't been following the story, Mike Guglielmucci was a Youth Pastor for Planetshakers. He has recently admitted to faking having cancer. He had been pretending to have cancer since September 2006.

He wrote a song called "Healer" which is about how Jesus heals (obviously). He performed it on the latest Hillsong DVD with an oxygen tube in his nose.

He recently admitted to faking his cancer as an excuse to cover up the symptoms of an unexplained illness which may have been caused by his guilt for having an addiction to pornography. He had been addicted to pornography for about 16 years.

I watched this Today Tonight story which is typically Today Tonight but I can't help but feel really sad for the guy.



I didn't know about this whole thing until it broke. Before that I didn't really know who Mike Guglielmucci was. I had seen him speak maybe, and I'd sung the song but I didn't know anything about cancer.

So I guess watching him on Today Tonight made me feel sad because he must be feeling terrible. I am sure he loves Jesus, otherwise he had no reason to admit his sin. And now he's getting a battering in the press, thousands of people are upset with him, he's let his wife, family, parents and church down. I can't imagine that the relief for admitting this makes up for what he's copping now as a result. It would have been easier for him to not tell anyone what was going on.

His Dad said in a statement to his church: "I can't begin to tell you how much this is hurting us on the inside. A few weeks ago Mike had a dream of Jesus on the cross looking down on him saying, 'the truth will set you free' and so he decided to confess and bring everything out into the open."

I do hope the truth sets him free. I don't think he's a con-man as Today Tonight and lots of others have made out. I think he's a sad man who was caught up in his own sin, pride and fear. I believe him when he says that he really did mean the song when he sang it, it just wasn't cancer he wanted healed. James says "Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed." Maybe now he will find the healing he so desperately wants. I hope so.

Satan must be having a field day right now. I wish we ministry workers could keep it together.



If you want to read more I got most of my information from here, here and here.

I'm back from the Ent Cent seeing Mark Driscoll tell us all about Jesus. There was 2 hours of preaching. That's pretty impressive. I've never sat through a 2 hour sermon before. It's kinda like sitting through 5 normal length sermons in a row.

That said, it was good. He kept us engaged, he told us about Jesus, he made us laugh. So I'm happy. I think seeing him live at a special event is better than everyday podcast Mark. Maybe just because he made fun of Austrailans, and Sydney people in particular. The crowd interaction was good.

I do appreciate Anglican worship music now more too. It's so theologically correct. It's kinda like singing a basic theology text book. But good thing is I think the music has improved. I didn't see one saxophone the whole night.

The sound was bad. And Mark made fun of 25-year-old males still living with their Mum. Lucky that's not me.

I'm off to see Mark Driscoll tonight. It's a little strange. We're off to see him at the Entertainment Centre. It's kinda like seeing a rock band but so much less cool. The event is called "Burn Your Plastic Jesus". I'm gonna take my plastic Jesus, but I'm not going to burn it because I like my plastic Jesus.

But I'm looking forward to it. I've listened to a lot of Driscoll's preaching, now seeing him live is kinda like going and seeing a band.

I read an article where someone was saying that some people are in danger of idolising Mark. I think I would be but I disagree with him too much. Lucky that.

Still it should be fun. Plus I'm taking some of the youth and I'm gonna take them to Eating World. I love Eating World.

I've been meaning to blog this for a while.

When we were entering the United States they made us fill out this form.



It was these three questions which were my favourite:



One does wonder how many people the Department of Homeland Security have caught using this method. I also felt that perhaps asking me if I was planning on engaging in "immoral activities" was a little subjective. I mean some people think it's immoral for a Christian to drink and I planned to drink. In fact I did drink. I had a Budweiser. I wouldn't say I sought entry specifically to drink a Budweiser but I did feel that drinking a Budweiser while on US soil was important to my experience of the US.

For the record the beer wasn't very nice. And I ticked "No" even though I felt that some might find my morality rather questionable. I'd hate to think the conundrums an unmarried couple planning to sleep together while in the US would go through. I would think that George W would think that it was immoral for them to do so, plus a large number of US citizens.

Still I was happy to be able to tell the Department of Homeland Security that I have never been, and am not currently, involved in genocide, as I really dislike genocide.

Finally they had this piece at the bottom:



Surly one of the first steps to reducing paperwork would be getting rid of the Paperwork Reduction Project and all the letters people send them complaining about the paperwork. But what would I know? I'm just a pleb.

I had a dream I was friends with Barack Obama last night and he promised to hang out with me when he was President. It's good when you know your friends won't forget you even when they hit the big time.

I went and saw Taken today. Liam Neison pretty much just efficiently kills people the whole film. It was pretty cool. I enjoyed watching it.

As three of the four of us in this house are currently sick, my father persuaded the doctor to make a home visit. So the doctor came and, without warning, undressed me in front of Hannah's babysitter*. I always knew moving back in with the parents could be a whole new adventure.


*In defence of the babysitter, she didn't hang around to watch. As soon as the doctor got into it, she scuttled away to do her uni readings. A wise move if you ask me.

I'm still home sick. Today I'm missing a special training day run by the diocese. I can't say I'm totally depressed about that. I'll still have to go at some stage but it won't be today.

I hear from a professional doctor that this flu takes about 10 days to get over. There is little joy in that news.

Still at least I'll get to watch some DVDs.

When I was at the retirement home visiting the residents for youth group on Sunday I met a man there who was a spy in Paupa New Guinea during World War Two. I was pretty impressed. I wanted to ask him lots of questions but I feel like it's rude to ask people questions about what is probably a rather traumatic experience. He seemed happy to talk about stuff though. He spent the most time telling me how he met his wife. That was nice.

Next time though maybe he'll want to tell me about hiding out in the jungle spying on Japanese. That'd make my day.

I'm sick today.

The dilemma with being sick is, you don't want to be sick and have to skip work. But being sick on your day off kinda bums you out. I wanted to go to the movies tonight, perhaps today too, but I had to stay home and watch the Olympics, and sleep. Bah.

I'll probably feel fine tomorrow and head off to work happy and healthy.

I almost died today. Seriously. I was almost involved in a horrendous car accident.

As I mentioned before my mechanic told me when he serviced my car that everything was fine, except the brakes could fail at anytime. And I half believed him. I believed him enough to not drive most of the time and only drive when it was really important.

So I decided to drive from church to Scripture today because it's about a 20 minute walk and my class was starting in 10 minutes. I hopped in the car, drove down the road, got to a Give Way sign, put my foot on the brake and nothing happened. The car just kept going merrily along. This was a serious problem, I was flying along at 20km/h if I didn't slow down soon I would commit a traffic offense.

Luckily, since I had been told my car could lose its brakes at any moment I had been mentally rehearsing what I would do in case of a break failure - gear down, neutral, handbrake, park. And my self training kicked in like clockwork. I said "Bloody hell!" then swerved all over the road hoping that any on coming cars, trees, telegraph poles or people would be less likely to crash into me if I was covering as much ground as possible.

As it happens, I turned left and managed to park my car on the side of the road. I actually don't know how I did this, but the swerving must have done the trick. Then I walked back to church and borrowed Anika's car.

After Scripture I went back to get my car. Anika drove behind me with her hazards on as I drove myself back to church in first and second gear while only turning left. I must say I could become a stunt driver. I also confirmed during the drive that my handbrake has about as much stopping ability as a fat man going downhill in a shopping trolley. Still like the fat man in the trolley at least it has novelty value.

But I am thanking God that I didn't die. Today has proved to me that I'm probably going to be famous. God has preserved my life for a reason. Watch this space.

I just went an saw Wanted tonight with my youth leaders. It was their idea, so I can't discourage it when they want to create a bit of fellowship. Had it been my idea we would have watched something wholesome like Mamma Mia.

Firstly may I say, that reflecting on my leaders' meetings this year, I think they have been the most silly and unproductive meetings that I have ever run. I have a wonderful time, but we generally get 20 minutes worth of stuff done in an hour and a half. But we get about 70 minutes worth of dumb jokes, eating and general mirth in. So I reckon that's pretty good.

Plus I made meat ballettes tonight and they weren't terrible. So this was good too.

**Spoilers Ahead**

Anyway, Wanted. Long story short, it was dumb. I haven't seen a more amoral movie for a long time. It was rather fun, and had cool shooting. Lots of cool shooting.

But in the end it was pretty silly. The premise is, there's a Fraternity of Assassins who are guided by the Loom of Fate. The Loom of Fate constantly weaves a fabric with a secret binary code in it. When the Head Assassin decodes the fabric it tells him the name of the next person who needs to be killed. The assassins obey the loom and kill the target.

In case perhaps you think trusting a loom to delegate your assassination targets is a tad risky, Angelina tells James McAvoy a story about a homicidal maniac whose name once came up but the assassin didn't kill him so he killed a judge. "Kill one, maybe save 1,000", it's the Assassin's Creed, we're told. This of course clears everything up, if the loom once spat out the name of a homicidal manic it must be right. And if there is a possibility you might save 1,000 people, well, why not play the odds?

They neglect to deal with the fact that during one assassination they derail a train and kill everyone on board by plummeting them into a ravine. Kill one, kill a couple of hundred.

The film ends with a message for the viewer-our hero turns to the camera and says "What the f*** have you done today?" right after he's shot another man in the head. The moral is: if you have a dead end job, and everyone walks all over you, get buff and kill some people. No worries.

But did I mention the film looked cool?

Garth Franklin said "If a young John Woo had made love to an ILM graphics server - this would be the offspring."

They was an awesome scene when they filled a factory with exploding rats, shortly followed by an assassin who kills around 30 people, in about 5 seconds (all in slow motion) using mostly guns that he's taken off the people he's killing. It really is something to behold.

So my verdict? It's definitely worth seeing, it's just not worth paying any attention too. I love a bit of good action but I think it's even better when they at least try just a little bit to plausibly justify the violence.

However I reckon it was probably a lot better than Mamma Mia. Guns and amorality or Abba songs and no guns. It's a no brainer.

I went to College on Thursday and turned up to class for the first time (I think this is a pretty decent effort seeing as it's only week 2) and had probably the best class I've had at my current college ever. The subject looked rather boring. But the Lecturer was interesting, told stories, made jokes (with good comic timing) and he made the subject interesting. I didn't fall asleep once the whole class which I think might be a first for this college. So I was happy.

And with me having enjoyed the theology intensive in the holidays, this could just turn out to be the best semester of college I've ever had.

Plus I went to a Theology of Youth Ministry conference on Friday. I only made it to the second day, as I had to be at college on the first day. But that was rather interesting too. Partly it was nice being at a conference for me and my type. I've been to other conferences before, and none of them have been about Youth Ministry. So it was good to have something where I felt like it was all relevant.

I kinda ended the day wondering how many youth ministers regularly think about the theology of what they're doing. I doubt many do. I don't. I think in someways your theology gets ingrained in you and you act out of your theology. Other times your habits work counter to your theology and you never think to question it.

I did sit down and figure out all the theology of why we do what we do a few years ago, and in essence we haven't changed much, so I think we're safe. But generally you spend your days figuring out how organise camps, write bible studies, help depressed young people. That sort of thing. And most of the time you don't think deeply about the theology behind what you do. It's generally like "Jesus loved people, told me to love people, so I might try and love people." That's about the extent of it.

And that's why it's good to go to conferences which force you to think it through. But I'm back to logistics and teen stress now. I'll just have a few more big words to describe it.

I've just stuck up the sermon from two Sundays ago.

For those who are on the podcast, you may need to fire it up again, I've been absent from podland so long.

Anyway, listen if you're keen. Don't if you're not. Gosh, if I ran a country I'd be the best dictator ever.

I'm sick of people bashing Hillsong.

I spent the day with David. And I'll tell you, he's sounding more and more like a good Evangelical every day. Next thing we know he'll tell me there were dinosaurs on the ark and women should cover their heads.

Still I had a good time. So that's ideal really.

I like his iPhone too.

I've made a week of blogging.

And you were all wanting a Gaytime.

It shouldn't really be a big deal, a week of blogging. But in this uncertain climate of high interest rates, global warming and missing NRL players, it seems that regular blogging has become much harder to find in this community.

Speaking of Sonny Bill. I think forcing the man to honour his contract and keep playing for the Bulldogs seems a bit dumb. But then again, I don't think anyone is seriously considering it. It seems like people just want to stop him from playing in France, or making pay a lot of money for the privilege to do so.

This seems perfectly reasonable to me. I don't have a problem with busting people for breaking contract. Contracts are rather important, people should stick to their commitments. Even if they do get offered $3 million to break them. Though I can see how that'd be rather tempting.

Anyway, I know people don't read the blog for my insightful comments on the state of Rugby League. So I'll return you now to our regular programing.

Actually I think I might go reply to Ty's comment below. I think he's called me out and suggested that not everyone is as insecure as me. Of course they are, their self-esteem is just too high to notice.

Mum reminded me yesterday of this quote I have a problem with. People often stick this one up from Nelson Mandela and say it's their favourite:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

It's actually not by Nelson but by a woman named Marianne Williamson, which is good.

I think it's rather lovely but not particularly true. I don't know about you, but my greatest fear is not that I am powerful beyond measure. Even if it were my greatest fear, I'm not. My greatest fear could very well be that I am inadequate. That I miss whatever small measure of greatness has been alotted to me because I'm to busy being dumb.

My greatest fear might be that even I have underestimated how horrible I really am.

And I'll tell you, I don't shrink because other people will feel insecure around me. I shrink because other people make me feel insecure.

Not to mention the fact that as a reformed evangelical it's crying out for me to remind everyone about the "total depravity of man" (lucky women escaped that doctrine).

I could go on. But my point is, it's nice but a load of bunk in my opinion.

Nelson could have quoted me and said "You could do better, get on with it." And I would be much more inspired.

I was out in the city tonight. A guy vomited in the mop bucket in Maccas. I thought "They probably shouldn't clean the floors with that now." But they did.

56 of my Facebook friends changed their profile pictures. Was there a profile picture party that no one told me about? Doesn't matter, most of them probably aren't my friends anyway.

I was listening to myself preach in the car yesterday. I do that so I can laugh at my own jokes and respond to my own alter calls. I forgot that I was getting my car serviced and left the cd playing. I stopped it last time I got the car looked at because I thought the mechanic might judge me for listening to Eric Bibb. Who knows what he thought of me for listening to myself rattle on about Jesus.

Still, he listened for a good 4 minutes. I know because when I hopped in the car, it was stopped four minutes after where I had left it. So if all goes according to plan he'll now remember that "the church isn't about us, it's only and always about Jesus."

When I went to pay exorbitant amounts for the car, the mechanic told me "There's nothing wrong with your car, except your brakes could fail at anytime." Apparently that's a bad thing. I guess it means now I can risk my life and drive recklessly without even breaking the speed limit. That's an achievement any young man oughta be proud of.

The ABC has told me that there's a rental squeeze going on in Sydney. I'd noticed.

At staff meeting today we were encouraged to get our coffee early and start the meeting on time. This is a shame, because I usually use that coffee time to turn up 5 minutes late and still be sitting on the couch when everyone else is ready. It makes me look punctual.

I just watched Bra Boys which is kinda like a propaganda documentary for a gang. Though they seemed nice enough. I'm not sure why they keep punching people in the head, it seems like they just want to surf and help struggling teenagers. Perhaps the people they punch are the sorts that don't like you helping teenagers. That's the sort of people I punch too.

This is rather awesome. ABC have launched iView. And I can watch ABC whenever I want.

Yes!

I was on the way home the other day when I met a man who was rather drunk. He asked me if the next stop was Redfern. I told him it wasn't. He asked me what I did and he told me what he does "for a crust".

After he repeatedly told me his name, he told me we should catch up sometime. I said "That could be fun" or something non-committal like that. He gave me his number, then insisted that I call him to check it works. I couldn't think of a way out so I did. It worked.

He's called me about 10 times since then and I ignore it every time. I don't know what I'd say when he rang, especially if he asked to hang out. I feel bad though. I don't ignore anyone else for this long.

Next time he calls I might pick up. Jesus probably would.

Of course it has been awhile since I've blogged. This hasn't really been because I've been doing amazingly interesting things. I've kinda just been plodding along. Watching lots of West Wing. And I saw The Dark Knight on Friday night which was particularly awesome. Oh how I love superheros. And Batman. And this film was great. Heath Ledger was pretty amazing. As was Gary Oldman, and Christian Bale. Yep. It was a special experience.

I preached on Sunday in all three services. I was getting pretty good at it by the end of the day. The fun thing was that every service got a slightly different sermon as I swapped illustrations around for each service. I did another illustration in the evening about me and girls. I wonder if I keep doing it if people will start to think I'm desperate and dropping hints. Which would be a good plan, because there is nothing more attractive than a desperate preacher, using his sermons to pick up.

I'm still living in Chatswood and still really enjoying it.

So there's a catch up for you. I'm going to try and blog every day for a week. If I don't I'll buy you all an ice cream, except most of you. But ask and you might be the lucky winner.

So the most important question I've thought of during my theology intensive has been this:

If Jesus' embryo in Mary had split making twins, would both of them be the Messiah? And would both of them be God? If not which one would be which? How could you tell? If so, if only one of them was crucified, would only half our sins be forgiven or would only half the people who want their sins forgiven get forgiven?

And when there were twins would the Trinity become a Quadinity?

And what would happen if the embryo didn't fully split and Mary had Siamese twins? Would both of them be the Messiah? How would you deal with the shared bits? If the non-Messiah bit sinned would that infect the Messiah bit?

I'm hoping this isn't disrespectful. I'm just trying to work out the metaphysics of it all.

I watched half of Gone with the Wind today. I had realised how annoying Scarlett O'Hara was till I watched. I certainly didn't get a past crush on her. Maybe she'll improve in the second half.

I'm friends with all these people on Facebook who I don't even know. I'd ignore their requests but I'm scared I do know them but I've just forgotten who they are.

I've also lost my desire to play Scrabulous. I stopped winning, now it's no fun.

I want a digital camera so I can post photos of myself at arms-length.

Usually my Tuesdays are relaxing but a little depressing, because I have my day off, but there is no one around to enjoy it with. Today however was a different story.

I work up early, pumped to buy a suit for the upcoming wedding in the Gong on Saturday. I walked into the first shop I saw, flirted with an older lady, and walked out 20 minutes later with a new suit, tie, shirt and a saving of $100! I'd like to say it was because of my flirting skills but I think it might have been the tag attached to the suit that said "$100 Off!".

Next it was off to Glebe to pick up Mil, so we could use my Van of Power to pick up a pink desk from my Marrickville place (the one I'm on the lease for but don't live in and don't know most of the people who actually do live in it). There we picked up a desk and Jemma, and headed back to Glebe.

In Glebe it was over priced lunch for the three of us from somewhere trendy with red couches, which Jemma liked, but they were probably made out of dead animal.

Jemma left us after some fair trade coffee, and Mil accompanied me to Broadway to buy some swanky shoes to go with my swanky suit. We did well, it's helpful having support, especially from a girl because girls know about things like looking good.

My final act in Broadway was to get my haircut, to remove the hair that doesn't go with the swanky suit and swanky shoes. It occurred to my that almost all the money I spent today was on improving my appearance. This is a little disconcerting. I'd better look hot on Saturday.

I headed back to the house of Mil and Martin, where I found Mil and Martin and Martin promptly invited me to dinner with them (and Ryan and Van). The movie, Happy-Go-Lucky, was lovely. Full of happiness and very little conflict. It had one of the most pleasant characters I have ever seen on film. And I did laugh much too.

Dinner was good too, full of discussion about inappropriate jokes. My favourite.

So my day as been full of people I like and fun things to do. Only down point was having to come home to do some reading for the theology intensive I start tomorrow (Was Jesus' post-resurrection body physical most of the time or just some of the time?) and finding out that I have be at college at 8:30am. Grr. 7:15 on the train. Grr.

Oh well, I'll do it for theology because I love theology. And I'll do it for Jesus. Though I feel I could glorify Jesus by sleeping too.

The Vatican tells us, after speculation that the Pope wears Prada shoes, that the Pope is a "simple and sober man (who is) not dressed by Prada but by Christ".

I'm hoping Jesus can get me a new outfit too.

From here.

If all the hairs on my head are numbered, what is the numbering system? Is hair number one the first hair in a systematic counting? Does God count from the centre of the head and move outwards in a circular fashion? Does he count from the bottom left hand side and move from left to right, working his way up and forward?

Or are hairs numbered chronologically? Is hair 1 the first hair to grow? Will it be the last to fall out? Or are hairs numbered in order of importance according to some divine system for determining the value of each particular hair? Does hair one change depending on its ranking?

These are the important questions of Jesus' teaching.

Can you tell I'm reading a lot of theology at the moment?

I have been doing theology readings for college lately and the theologian was saying that the orthodox position on Jesus' omnipresence is that when he became incarnate he didn't cease to be omnipresent. This was an odd thought which I had never thought about before, I had always assumed that he ceased to be omnipresent because part of being human is about only being in one particular space. If figured the Father and Spirit could fill any necessary gaps in the Universe left by Jesus' incarnation. A little bit of omnipresence rostering could sort out that issue in the Godhead.

But alas, Raymond, Calvin and many other people, disagree. Jesus was both in one place and everywhere at the same time. I'm not sure how they support this biblically, but I'm sure someone could tell me. I feel like this thought is a little bit of a let down, it feels like it diminishes the significance of the incarnation, like taking away Superman's cape without realising that he can still fly.

Anyway, if there is anyone inclined to think theologically out there, tell me what you think.

So I decided that the first 6 months was a bit of a failure. I've been thinking about this for a little while. I had plans this year to do good at college, learn Kung Fu, keep running and be the best youth minister in the world.

In actual fact I managed to stop running, fail the only subject I was doing at college, not do Kung Fu, become homeless and accidentally move back in with my parents, and not do half the things I wanted to do as a youth minister (though I think ministry was where I failed least).

So I've decided that as depressing as it is to realise you're a failure (please no comments to the contrary, unless you're hot and a girl), it does give me an opportunity to improve. And now that I pretty much suck, all I have to do is finish this year not sucking so much.

So here is what I want to achieve by the end of the year, I want to be unhomeless, I want to not fail college, and I want to maintain my current level of mediocre youth ministry. So really I'll still be less amazing than I was at the beginning of the year, but at least I'll do better than I did these last six months.

It did just occur to me that I have no memory of what I did for the last New Year's. I wonder if I had a good time. I might go check the blog. I was probably watching a DVD or something.

Update: For the record I was at Avalon with people from Church and I really enjoyed myself. In fact I'm feeling fond memories right there in that fond memory bit of your torso. Actually, my torso, I've never felt anything fond in your torso in my life.

Taking my last post into account you all know I really do love the United States. And I want to be President. Or at least work for the President. Well Jed Bartlett at least.

I bought Commander in Chief the other day because I was missing The West Wing. I thought a bit of Presidential TV might make me feel a little better, but it just made it worse. Commander in Chief is kinda like West Wing but written by people only as smart as me. The President is infuriatingly dumb. The dialogue is horribly blatant and single layered. And all the 'inspiring' solutions Genna comes up with to save the world are just entirely arrogant and naive. I liked the idea of a show about a woman President, but not when she's stupid. Bring back Jed. Maybe bring back Jed as a woman. Yeah, that'd be interesting, West Wing with a transsexual President. If I'm not a television visionary then I don't know what I am.

Anyway, Borders was having a sale, so I bought the first six seasons of The West Wing on DVD. Now I'm happy again and I'll just watch Commander every now and again to remind me how much I love West Wing.

I hope when I make it to America, I get to meet President Obama and he has a Chief-of-Staff named Leo and young, white kid as his aide called Charlie. That would be wonderful.

How can you not love the United States? When The West Wing, Superman and Billy Graham come from there it has to be a pretty special nation.

When we were in the US my mother regularly reminded me of her embarrassment that I had made multiple comments about America being full of fat people on my blog. Often when we were in a room together she'd lean over to me and say "How many of these people would you say are fat?" Which, I would have to admit was not nearly as many as I had hoped. I think she was doing it to shame me into repenting for being rude on my blog. Though I think when she saw the Hummer-width wheelchairs American Airlines use to transport invalids around in she was converted to my way of thinking.

But alas, my American cousins (Are we cousins? Second cousins perhaps seeing as the British are cousins to both of us but we're not directly related) please do not feel my joking about your collective girth is in anyway out of ridicule of you. I have nothing against being large. In fact, I have often encouraged my fellow Australians to eat up. We beat you guys at the swimming, sometimes at the tennis, and I thought we should beat you in being the world's fattest nation too!

And I heard on the radio the other day that now we have! Yess! Australians all let us rejoice! The Baker IDI Heart and Diabetes Institute tell us in their new report (with the catchy and academic, Tom Jones-esque title "Fat Bomb") that there are now 4 million overweight adults in Australia. Proportionally that's more than any other country on earth. Of course I can't actually find this fact in the report but the papers tell me it's there.

So I say cop that you United States, cop that Mexico. We we swim better than you, we play AFL better than you, and now we eat and sit on our bums better than you. Is there anything we can't achieve when we put our minds to it?

SMH has an article about a retiring 707 today which got a farewell escort over Sydney's CBD by a Hawk 127 training jet. Some people in CBD thought Sydney was about to have it's very own 9/11. One man was so concerned he immediately rang 2UE to find out what was going. It's good to see the people of Sydney know where to turn in the event of a national crisis.

I'm really hungry. I haven't had breakfast. I'm not letting myself eat breakfast till I make a phone call I'm feeling too scared to make. I'm wondering how long I can hold out.

Emotional pain versus actual "I want Cornflakes" pain. It's a hard life I've got.

When was the last time you heard a sermon at church or did a Bible Study on saying "Sorry". Not like repentance, but finding the people you have hurt and apologising?

I can't remember one. I've heard plenty on forgiveness but none on saying sorry. Funny that.

That may change on Friday.

I'm remembering the joys of living by myself. I went shopping tonight after work and bought lots of food and all of it for me. Coke, ice cream, Tim Tams, chips, wedges, steak. Yeah! I was in such a celebratory mood tonight that I even cooked myself dinner. I cooked Butter Chicken from scratch. No microwave meal for me. I cooked it from the beginning with a jar. I'm amazing!

I've moved out of the parents. For at least 6 weeks. Maybe forever (again). I'm hoping, not that I don't like the parents. I love em. But I don't really like feeling like I've failed the independent life.

Anyway, I'm house sitting the grandfather's flat for a bit while he gallivants around the world. It should be a fun. I've stayed here before and It's fun to be back.

I have to water the plants on Sundays. Or Mondays. Or any day I choose I think.

Ahh yes, all those days of Guatemalan fun that are slowly slipping in the irretrievable land of un-memories.

So here's what I can remember.

Monday we were back in Guatemala City, back at our hotel, but the family was divided by a floor. Mum and Dad were downstairs on level 1. Jo and I were on level 3. We had the bigger apartment. Plus we had a double bed which we had to share, which is awkward because you spend your whole night trying not to kick the other person, steal sheets or sleep facing them because waking up and finding someone else in your bed is a rather scary occurrence. Well it is for me. I don't know how couples do it. Although I guess when you first get together waking up to find the person you're in love with right there is pretty exciting. And then when you get bored of each other you're used to them so it doesn't scare you even if it does bring up a little bit of annoyance that they're still there.

But I digress.

Monday was planned to be a quiet day. So we spent it reading and sitting around in the morning. Then Mum and I went out to get some lunch, get the laundry done, and do the shopping. We wandered around Zone 10 and got a little lost trying to find the laundry. We eventually found one who didn't do laundry, so they sent us, with broken English, somewhere else. By the time we ended up at the Laundry we were rather disorientated and had no idea where the Supermarket was in relation to where we were. In addition to this we found out later that the place were we got the laundry done charged us 900% more than where Dad got it done in the first week we were in the city, and we didn't have 900% more washing.

Still we found our way back to food, and I managed to order some wedges from McDonald's with only a limited number of staff and customers laughing at me.

We finally went back to our apartment to get our bearings so we could go find the supermarket, meanwhile the outer edge of the hurricane in Honduras had kicked in for the day and we got rather wet. Still the Supermarket was fun if only because products from other countries are cool, and this was a whole large room full of them.

Monday night was spent with Jo's Guatemalan family again. That was nice. I spent most of the night with the boys watching Tokyo Drift on TV. It was good because it removed the pressure of having to converse and we could just bond over English language with Spanish Subtitles. Sweet. The film was pretty bad though, but that's to be expected.

I've not been blogging because I've been busy saving the world and failing college.

Though in the mean time I have managed to watch a few movies, and think on some interesting theological ditties.

Since I got back I've seen:

21 - Fine. Nothing exceptional, but it kept me interested. Most interesting bit was at the beginning when projectionist forgot to put the anamorphic lens on the projector so everyone looked skinny for the first 5 minutes of the film

The Counterfeiters - Was German, about the Holocaust, involved lots of money and interesting ethical questions. Good acting, and good characters. I did like.

The Incredible Hulk - Pretty awesome. Not Iron Man but it was most fun to see the Hulk bashing the Abomination in the head with two halves of a car. Plus there were heaps of military things, from elite soldiers to Humvees driving over university lawns with sonic blasters. And it was set in the Marvel universe with Stark Industries and S.H.I.E.L.D., so it was most cool. Partly for the film, partly for the promise of more Marvel Cinematic Universe to come.

The Happening - Rather dull (which is saying a lot for a film about thousands of people killing themselves). M Night seems to be slipping. Unbreakable is one of my favourite movies ever, but his stuff seems to be getting worse. Oh well. There was one good line, but mostly it was just Mark Wahlberg running around looking hurt and perplexed.

And the theology?

Well I've been thinking that probably our sin did not cause Jesus to be crucified. Certainly we can be accountable with our forefathers for his execution. But in a spiritual sense it was not our sin the sent Jesus to the cross but God's mercy. Every time I sin I am not nailing Jesus to the cross. Saying that my sin caused Jesus to die is arrogance assuming that I forced God's hand to perform his greatest act glory, rather than God's choice to glorify himself to save us who were unaware we even needed to be saved.

I've also been thinking about the resurrection and our lack of emphasis on it integral part in our salvation. That our salvation is always just about being saved from sin, rather than being saved into wholeness though resurrection.

Finally today I've been thinking about hell and how eternal it is. I'm leaning towards not, but I only started thinking about it a few hours ago so I'm not sure.

My final thought has not been so theological, but I did wonder if the films that Universal Studios distribute would actually be appealing to other sentient lifeforms in the universe, were we to find some. I kinda doubt it.

So there you go. I haven't be wholly unproductive even if I have been rather slack at contributing kilobytes to the world wide web.

We made it home. I realised I didn't blog that, so according to this blog I'm somewhere between LA and Sydney. But I'm here now. Jet lag is no worries. I stayed up till 1am last night. That seemed to do the trick.

Well we made it to LA. I'm in the Qantas (Admirals) Club with the Ps. My Pa is a good man to travel with.

We did make it out of the airport here. We went to Venice Beach, met some amature gansta rappers, ate dinner then came back. It was pretty awesome. Now I can say I really have been to the states. Venice Beach is kinda like Newtown except more grungy, and a lot more touristy, but it has many a strange character. I did enjoy.

Now it's time for the long flight across the Pacific. Lots of movies to be watched! Joys!

We've arrived in Dallas. Our plane was meant to leave 25 minutes ago, but our flight got cancelled and we've been put on a later one at 4ish. I should find out more precisely what the time is.

Fox News is telling us that at the moment there is a lost mother here in Dallas Airport. I'm keeping my eye out for her.

It's also dawned on me that we won't be able to leave the airport in LA because we went through Customs here and we won't do it in LA. That's a shame. Now my complete experience of the US is going to be in airports. It is kinda fun, but airport culture is kinda like this distorted filter which through which some of the actual culture from the country makes it through.

I'll have to come back.

So I've given you all plenty to read now, and I don't have nearly as much catching up to do. Only 4 days now I think.

Now I should sleep. We're leaving tomorrow. Flying out at 8am. Happily we'll have 6 hours in LA so I'm hoping we can spend some time in the city doing LA.

I'll be home at 6am-ish on Sunday. Saturday is going to disappear at some imaginary line in the Pacific Ocean. I'm not looking forward to trying to stay away all of Sunday. Oh well, V will get me through.

Sunday was an even less full day than Saturday.

We had another wholesome breakfast at the Hippy Cafe. I had French Toast that was so full of hearty, wholemeal goodness it was hard to swallow. But I made it through like the brave food warrior that I am.

Then we drove home to our apartment in Guatemala City. Victor drove for us through the rain, fog and crazy driving. He did very well.

It being Sunday we decided to do church as a family. We burnt a cd to play in the car with worship music, a sermon off one of Jo's podcasts, and more worship music. We played the cd in the car and stopped it at bits for prayer, Bible reading (actually reciting because no one had a Bible in the car), sermon discussion and announcements. It was just like real church but in a car. It was pretty fun, and spiritually significant. I have never a attended a church before that was so clearly going places. Car Church is awesome.

When we got back to Guatemala City we were all pretty stuffed, so we went out to see a movie. We wanted to see Narnia but we arrived we found out it wasn't subtitled but dubbed in Spanish. But Indiana Jones was on at the same time and it had subtitles. I was the only one who wanted to see it, but Mum said she'd go with me. She's a champ.

We bought our $3 tickets and headed into the cinema. It was pretty dodgy. The sound was crackly, the projector wasn't bright enough so the screen darkened at the edges, the print was terribly scratched and dirty. It was pretty awesome. It was kinda like the effect the were going for in Grindhouse but it was real. And watching Indy in that setting was great. I kept thinking about how the whole thing is about recreating the dodgy serials of the 50s, and this screening seemed to fit right in. For $3 I got one of the best movie experiences I've had in years. Plus I loved the film. It was rather silly in places. But still Indy always is silly. It made me very happy. It was a beautiful way to finish the day.

Lake Atitlan, where we were staying

Saturday wasn't all that exciting. We woke up late and had a wholesome breakfast at a hippy cafe called the Stoned Fish or something. Everything was made out of wholemeal, organic bran and stuff. It wasn't entirely exciting, but I found some ok eggs.

We caught the boat back across the lake to Panajachel, on the public ferry this time. It was fun to be squashed on a boat with the locals. They smile a lot.



Some guys who sold Mum and Jo stuff by the lake as we waited for the ferry. They were pretty cool, I'd invite them to my party to make me look cooler.

In Pana we got accosted by huge amounts of people wanting to sell us stuff. Everyone from old ladies, to middle aged men, to cute kids. My Mum who is a sucker for local stuff and people was seemed to be buying from every 2nd person who offered their wares to us, till she got tough and refused them all point blank. One middle-aged, long haired, white guy tried to sell me "ganja" which I politely refused but I was pleased he thought I looked like the kind of guy who would want some.

At one stage we were sitting in a cafe and a really young boy came up to Mum to sell her stuff. He was very cute. He could speak some English too. Mum said she'd love to talk to him but she wasn't going to buy anything. He saw what she'd bought and then told her she'd been ripped off. She chatted to him for a bit more, she got him to draw some pictures for her. He kept trying to sell stuff and she kept saying "No". He then tried to get her to buy him a coffee and a Coke, but she still refused.

Eventually he got bored and said to her. "You are crazy!"

"Why? Because I'm not buying your stuff?" Mum asked

"Yes, you are s**t" he said then walked out.

Funny kid.

At some point in the afternoon Victor and his family turned up from Guatemala City, only a few hours late having got caught in the road work like we did the day before.

After a bit more street shopping we took them across the lake on a private ferry with seats that had been stolen from a car, it was pretty cool. I got to sit at the front with a Guatemalan family from Texas. I like Americans.



Dinner at the non-Mexican Mexican Restaurant

We took Victor's family to the Stoner Cafe, and fed them hippy bran biscuits, then put them back on the boat home. Victor stayed the night with us so we took him out to the non-Mexican Mexican restaurant to celebrate Jo's graduation for her Masters. We all told our testimonies at dinner which was rather daggy but very special. God has done good things for my family.

The mozzy didn't return as I slept that night. I think it had learnt from my stern words the night before.

So waking up late at the Holiday Inn was a rather nice way to start the day. We had a 1pm check-out, so none of this scrambling for 10am business. We had a leisurely breakfast at the buffet, eating as much as we could before we began the journey out of the city again.

Finally at around 11am we made it out of the hotel. Pretty good for us. First stop was a drive through bank where we needed to make a deposit for our hotel that night. While it was just a regular bank visit, I’ve never seen a drive through bank before. They’re pretty awesome. It’s kinda like a cross between a drive through and a supermarket. You drive your car up to a little console at the end of one of those suction pipes, talk to some one, put your money in the pipe and away it goes. I assume that somewhere in there the you swipe your card or something do. We didn’t actually use th drive through bank, we went to the conventional bank as we had to do a transfer. But, most unlike Australia, the bank was empty and full of staff. They even served us straight away.

Back on the road for San Marcos (via Panajachel) we trundled out of Guatemala City only to get stuck in traffic as just after we’d left town. As we waited many Ambulances with their sirens going were screaming past us in the other direction.

Eventually we rounded a bend and saw that the cause of the hold was a bus that had rolled onto it’s roof. The drivers seat had been completely smashed in by the guard rail that was now sticking vertically in the rain. There were people speaking in through the windows and school girls, soaked through with rain, standing beside the bus looking shocked. It was a rather amazing scene. We drove on felling rather shell shocked. It’s not often you things like that, but in Guatemala it seems to be the norm. Everyday on the road we’ve seen accidents.

As we drove on things were much more calm. We got stuck in the longest stretch of road works I’ve ever seen. And we were thanking God for the lack of OH&S here, cause we got to drive right next to rock crushers and bulldozers in action. It was pretty special.



Girl who sold us stuff on the side of the road during the road work traffic jam.

Eventually we made it to the Lake Atitlan (which has San Marcos and Panajachel on the shore) but we couldn’t see it because we were at the top of the volcanic mountains which surround the lake, and the mountains were stuck in cloud. Again we were stuck on Guatemalan roads with falling rain, falling rocks and falling cloud. But we made it down the mountain ok.

Panajachel was a town chock full of tourists and people trying to sell you stuff. We met a man on a bike as we were driving into down. He asked us if we needed a place to park, we said we did as we needed to leave the car there over night. So the man led us on his bike to his special little parking area which was just someone’s back yard. Call me un-trusting but I wasn’t all that keen to leave the car in some random backyard for a few days.

Eventually we found our way to the wharf where we hired a boat to take us across the lake to San Marcos. We left the car with the volunteer firefighters. I thought this was a much better arrangement. If you can’t trust volunteer firefighters who can you trust?

After our boat trip across the lake, we arrived at San Marcos, pulling right up on the beach just in front of our hotel. If our place in Rio Dulce was an “eco-lodge” then San Marcos is an eco-terrorist training camp. There are no road for through most of the town, just walkways surrounded by bamboo fences. There are meditation and hippy hostels littered all over the town. I get the impression that Americans and Germans with dreads and hemp clothing come here to meditate, pray with crystals and get stoned.



Some bit of the Hotel. It was rather creative.

We were staying at a hotel where every room was unique. Everything was built out of glass, rock, and logs of relatively uncut timber. There were paintings on the walls of Hindu gods and other such new age celebrities. It was pretty cool.

After checking out that room we ate at a Mexican restaurant that didn’t sell any Mexican food. The food was nice, the owner happy and the dog friendly, so it was good to be there.

I went to sleep pretty early that night. I guess that what you do in eco land. I was only bothered by on mosquito which is pretty good for a hotel in the trees with windows that don’t go all the way to the edges. In the spirit of being one with nature I didn’t kill it I just waved my hand at it at various intervals during the night, and thought mean thoughts about it. I’m sure it felt bad.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to blog. We’ve been rather flat out. I have a few days to catch up on. So I’ll go back in time a little bit.

We’d been making plans for a few days to do a big “Aussie” day of driving on Thursday, that is driving for about 10 hours, instead of breaking it up into two days, and then we’d get Friday free to just do whatever we wanted, just relaxing, reading, sleeping, Machiavellian plotting, that sort of thing.

So on Thursday morning my alarm went off at 5am, and it was painful. I dragged myself out of bed even before the alarm had time to berate me again with is chirpily smug beeping. I felt pretty good about that because we were planning to leave at 6 and I was up almost an hour early. If anyone was going to hold up our departure, it wasn’t going to be me!

When I was in the shower Jo let me know that it was 5:30 as if I wouldn’t have time to finish my shower and pack my bag in 30mins. I remember thinking “Girls! They always think you need ages!” I hopped out of the shower, and was standing in our room in just my boxers, when my parents knocked on the door and asked, with a smirk “Are you ready to go?”. I thought this was a joke because I was virtually naked. They weren’t joking. Somehow in all our discussions every time they’d said “5:30” I’d heard “6”. Either that or the three of them decided to play a practical joke on me which I’m not entirely sure isn’t the case. Little did I know, this was going to be just the first mishap of a mishap filled day.

Anyway, I threw on some clothes, and packed my bag in record time. If you ask me, I did an amazing job. 15 minutes later we were on the road.



Heading to the car way too early

Our plan for the day was to drive from Flores to San Marcos which is completely on the other side of the country. Jo had figured out a route where we could avoid going through Guatemala City and take some back roads down. We figured it would probably be a little quicker and the route would be a lot shorter.

We set out from Flores, got some directions then headed off. About half an hour down the road we got to a sign where the road forked, leading to two different places, neither of which we could find on the map. We stopped and asked which way to Coban, which was the first town on our route. The man laughed and told us Coban was in the other direction. Way back, at the town we left, we had taken a wrong turn and ended up driving in completely the wrong direction. We were heading north when we wanted to be going south. We had to turn around and go all the way back.

Now armed with this new knowledge we headed back the way we came, only an hour and a quarter behind schedule.

A little while later we arrived at a river with a dingy old ferry to take people across. In usual Guatemalan fashion there was no queue. The cars and trucks just lined up next to each other facing the river. When the ferry arrived, it was every vehicle for itself as everyone pushed forward onto the ferry, like a slow motion version of the opening of the Myer Boxing Day sales.

Thanks to Dad’s awesome driving skills we made it on to the boat second. While we were on the ferry the guy who beat us on to it was obviously feeling gracious, or vindictive, and pointed out our back left tire to us. It was unusually flat. Flat two for the trip.

Across the other side of the river we headed off to find a pinchazo, where tires are fixed. Luckily flat tires are a tradition here in Guatemala and there are pinchazos everywhere. We found one just across the river.

An hour and a half later the tire was fixed and we were full of breakfast, next stop Coban and we were only running two hours and three quarters late.



See our amazing video of the flat tire incident in high quality digital camera definition!

The rain started somewhere on the road. We picked up and dropped off a hitchhiking primary school teacher, and made it to Coban finally without getting lost again. Jo took us to a cafe the locals love. I had some chicken stew thing where they give you the liquid, the chicken, the potato and the rice and you have to pull it apart, cut it up and put it all in to make the stew. It was fun, but I felt a bit ripped off, like I’d turned up to McDonalds and they’d given me the bun, meat and vegetables and told me to put it together myself. I want things done for me, damn it!

When lunch was done Jo and Mum went to check out some craft. And as this bores my father and I, we just hung out the front of the cafe trying to decide what to do, till we’d hung around enough that that became what we were doing.

While we stood there a man came up to me and said “Hey there my friend, give me five!” and shook my hand and “gave me five”. He proceeded to talk to me for a while in very bad English about how he wanted to speak English, about some guys, and about US dollars. I spent a long time trying really hard to do my active listening thing, I kept repeating what I thought he was saying back to him, to which he’d always say “No” and try again.

Soon Jo turned up and I suggested that perhaps he talk to her in Spanish, but he didn’t want to, he wanted to speak English. I got the picture he wanted money, and as has been our policy we gave him 4 Quetzales, which he wasn’t happy with. We got the picture that he wanted 2 US dollars. But we we didn’t have 2 US dollars on us, but he kept insisting. I told him we were Australian, but the significance of that didn’t seem to sink in with him.

Eventually Jo said to him in Spanish, “Can you speak Spanish? Because we don’t understand what you’re saying.”

This didn’t seem to be the right thing to say as he wanted to speak English, so he got angry.

At this point he noticed Jo’s watch on her wrist. He spoke for a little bit longer saying he didn’t care about the “f-ing police”, then made a lunge for Jo’s watch. He grabbed it and tried to pull it off. I reacted with my lightening fast 2 lessons worth of Kung fu and grabbed his wrist using a Flying Angry Cobra Wrist Lock, Dad, also a kung fu master, grabbed the same wrist using the Striking Invisible Tiger Wrist Clench. Jo grabbed her watch with her Ju Jit Su, Fung Hu Fing Clasp. Mum was in the bathroom looking for the light.

Seeing the united power of the French Family and our formidable martial arts skills, the man let go and said something else in English. Jo said she was going inside and did. I put up my hands in the conciliatory, negotiation, defensive stance, and I said something to him which I don’t remember but while it probably sounded like “I don’t want any trouble” I’m sure it was actually something like “Never touch my family or me again or I’ll break your neck in a second!” The man swore at us, then stalked off across the road, across the square on the other side and disappeared.

Mum and Jo came out of the cafe, Mum having successfully found the light. And we all went back to the car to debrief and get out of that no good town with the street robbers and lazy cafe staff. We made it out successfully Dad only driving the wrong way down a one way street once.

Just out of Coban, we had to turn off to find a town where the back roads started. We found this little town, chock full of people and cars. The people were all friendly and happy to give us directions. By this stage we were only half way through our journey but it was almost 4pm.

Eventually we wound our way through the tiny streets onto the road to somewhere which would get us to somewhere else (obviously).

As we drove the road got steeper, narrower and more muddy. The rain was coming down and we were driving along skinny roads with no room for passing traffic, were we to meet anyone coming the other way. Soon the country side opened up and we were driving on the side of a mountain looking out over a spectacular valley, which looked great, but wouldn’t have been so great to drive off the side of the road into, which was looking like more and more of a possibility the more we drove. Plus the clouds were descending, the rain was coming, the hill side looked even less stable than the one we were driving through on Sunday when it started throwing rocks at us, and the road was so muddy we were in danger of getting bogged.

As we wondered if following this back road was the smartest option, we met a man on a bulldozer, much more suited to the terrain, who told us the road only got worse and we would be smarter to turn back. So turn back we did.



The Valley



Jo and Bulldozer Man

Back through the mud, back through the town and back onto the highway for Guatemala City, the very place we were aiming to avoid.

By now it was getting very late, and we were no where near our destination. We had to decide where to spend the night. After a little bit of bad diplomacy, we settled on Guatemala City and, much to my delight, we decided to stay in a posh hotel. And while this didn’t really excite anyone else, it did excite me.

We ended up arriving in Guatemala City 14 hours after we’d left Flores, still about 200kms away from where we wanted to go. Things perhaps didn’t quite go as planned.

Still we ended the night in the Holiday Inn which was swankier than I thought Holiday Inns were. I thought they were like just a step up from F1 but this was more like just a step down from Raddison. Plus Jo got to see her boyfriend and Mum, Dad and I got to order room service and watch cable, so it wasn’t all bad.

As I thought about the day I did realise the day was probably a pretty good illustration of James 4:13-14:

Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

I think I agree.

Today we decided to leave Guatemala. Just down the road (about 2 hours) from Flores (where we’re staying) is Belize. So, being from a country where it’s not all that easy to visit other countries, we thought "Why not have a day trip to Belize?"

Of course Belize isn’t high on everyone’s agenda for international travel (though, neither is Guatemala). It’s a British Colony bordering Mexico and Guatemala, of around 250,000 people. It’s got quite a lot of land for quite a small country. How they manage to run a country with that many people is a rather baffling thought, but they do and they haven’t been invaded by Guatemala or Mexico yet, so good on them.

Getting to Belize was rather easy, all we had to do was drive out of Flores turn left, turn right, then drive till you hit the border. The drive was rather pleasant, not many cars on the road, mostly just mangy dogs and stray potholes. The road got worse the closer we got to Belize, giving you the impression that perhaps the Guatemalan Government feels that Belize is the neighbour who you don’t invite to the neighbourhood barbeque, and you never go over to borrow sugar, they’re just too, strange. After all they speak English, they’re the foreigners on the Central American block.

Once we made it to the border it was a mess of cars and trucks and people, all lining up to get across a bridge which could only fit two cars side-by-side at a squeeze, an international highway at it’s most spectacular.

But we made it across the bridge eventually, after first paying some tax to a random lady with a toll booth (a random toll booth operator perhaps) and were directed by more of Guatemala’s helpful, selfless entrepreneurs about where to park, where to got to immigration, and where to change money (with them). The border was full of people selling stuff, asking for stuff, guarding stuff, sitting on stuff, shouting at stuff, parking stuff, queuing stuff. It’s all happening at the border. Even while we were lining up in immigration to get our passports done, we had a woman begging us for just $1.

We got our passports stamped with only a little bit of fuss (Jo loosing about a month off her visa), we headed over to the car people who informed Jo that because the car wasn’t in her name she wouldn’t be allowed to drive it out of the country. Eventually, however the guy said she could take it if the people in Belize said she could take it. So we all trotted off to find Belize and ask them if they’d let us take Jo’s car across the border.

In the arrivals hall in Belize it was calm, quiet, clean, and beggar free. They stamped our passports and wrote everything in a book. They didn’t have computers, which I thought was very quaint and 1960s. Before they let us through though they asked us where we were going, but no one could remember. We hadn’t really thought too hard about the whole thing. Dad tried “Georgetown?” But the man said “Georgetown is a very long way away”. Dad tried “Georgeville?” “Yes, that is closer.” When Jo was asked by the customs man where she was going all she could think to say was “Belize?”

Unfortunately the man wouldn’t let Jo take the car into Beleze, so Mum and I left the Arrivals Hall to go to Belize while Dad and Jo went back into No-Man’s-Land to move the car.

Eventually they made it out having found one of Guatemala’s many helpful men there ready to watch the car for them.

On the other side of the border things were much more calm. For a start people speak English there. Not that English is an inherently calming language, but it calms me.

Also, there were no people crowding around you, there weren't a hundred people all trying to give you a service. We did get asked if we needed a taxi, we said “No”, that was all. It’s interesting what a difference a fence makes.

Eventually Jo and Dad arrived and Mum and I welcomed them to the country like seasoned Belizians. Jo was rather flustered after all the kurffufal, I think sorting out her car hadn’t been all that easy. But Dad and Jo had made it, it was time for us to take on Belize, a country we knew very little about, and I wouldn’t have been able to place on a map just over a week ago.

We got ourselves a friendly Taxi driver, who was happy to drive us to the nearest town for the going rate (which was written on an official sign at the border so we didn’t get ripped off). We arrived at the car and found another person in it. He had his wife in the car, and he was very “Sorry”. This didn’t really bother us, the four of us just squeezed into the back seat. The driver then proceeded to drive his wife home before taking us into town.

On our way what I noticed about Belize is that everyone seems more calm. People seem to drive safer. The landscape looks pretty much the same, but the people are darker and there were a lot less police and a lot less guns.

In town we went to a local cafe/bar/restaurant thing and Jo didn’t have to do a word of translation. It was wonderful. While we were waiting for our food the power cut, and didn’t come on again for the rest of our time in the country. However the food was good, if a little luke-warm.

The rest of the time we spent in town, the girls shopping and Dad and I wandering around looking at the local bridges.



Dad on a Belizian Bridge

At three o’clock our taxi driver came back to get us, and take us back to the border. We went back through customs and discovered, while it was free to get into Belize, it was US$15 to get out. Bah! This was turning into an expensive day. But they let us through. Dad only once managed to incur the wrath of the customs officers once by taking a photo in the departure hall. They said “Hey no photos!” which I thought was getting off lightly as in the US they probably would have just shot him. (I jest, they didn’t shoot us once while we were in the US)



The illegal photo

We entered back into Guatemala, back into the chaos. Immediately we were set upon by people wanting us to change money with them and to give us a taxi. We made our way back through the Guatemalan customs, found our car, then drove home.

As we arrived back in Flores, the island town, we managed to sustain a flat tire. I got to get out with Dad and do a bit of tire changing, which I’m sure was a good bonding moment.

Jo and Dad have now gone to find a pinchazo to fix the tire, while Mum and I get to loaf around reading and blogging.

All up, I’d say it’s been a pretty good day. It’s not often you get to go to another country for lunch, and I got another four stamps in my passport. Totally worth it! Maybe one day when I get old and I just want to write books, I’ll move to Belize and get a little hut on the ocean, write smart books and drink from coconuts all day. It’ll be wonderful!