"He earns what? And he is still caught out spending money he ought not to?"

So much money I cannot imagine!
Today in NZ there has been a bit of a scandal hit the headlines. The CEO of the Australia and NZ Bank in NZ has been sent packing. In some enquiry into personal expenses he was found to have spent the firms money on chauffeur-driven cars and wine storage. It involved tens of thousands of dollars. He was not supposed to do this. He pleaded ignorance. He was given a golden hand shake of a couple of million dollars, and sent down the road.  In the process of reading about this I discovered that he was paid in the last year $3,125,000. Why would you need to spend extra money on that salary? The year before that he got even more. That deeply disturbs me. He gets $60,000 a week! That is a few thousand more than ever I earned in my best year, and once when I measured my weekly hours I was averaging at least 66 hours of work a week. So he is earning over 60 times what I earned, and I am not poor. I find myself yelling "unfair!".... Not for me, but for the many others who are struggling in our community.
And yet at the other end...?
I have had lots to do with people who for various reasons have been unable to work. Sometimes it is sickness. Sometimes they have been made redundant so many times that they have got to an unemployable age and have given up looking for work. Often there are simply no jobs that they can do in our technological age.  I recall helping one man to budget while he was living on a welfare benefit. He came to me distraught one week. The ANZ bank, the bank this CEO worked for, had taken $20 out of his bank account. Why? Well he had an AP for his weekly rent and perhaps because he bought his tobacco early that week, or some other expense, he was a few dollars short in his bank account when they went to withdraw his rent. They didn't pay his rent but he got charged a $20 fee because he was overdrawn. So the next week he had even less to survive on and was unlikely to be able to cover his rent again, another extra cost, an unhappy landlord and a search for a cheaper room to rent, with a bad credit reputation. Because he did not ever have much money in his account he was charged bank fees somebody with a reasonable amount would not be charged. The rules and costs surrounding his use of the bank contributed to his struggles. When the bank was asked about such costs, they pleaded poverty, and "We are not social workers, we need to make money." Yet they pay this CEO (and no doubt others) what seems to me a phenomenal amount of money. I look at it and wonder how one man is worth that much and how on earth can he spend that much?  I suspect that the people making decisions about bank charges and rules have no comprehension of what it is like for a beneficiary, or for that matter, a person on the minimum wage, to survive from week to week. $20 sounds like nothing when you are on a reasonable salary, but to the poor it may as well be a million dollars. The gap between the rich and poor in Western societies, is unjustified, despicable, and causes untold suffering, anger and hurt for the people on the bottom.

Home invasions!

"Home Invasion" often refers to the act of breaking into a person's home and causing mayhem. But I want to suggest there are other types of home invasion. 

Unwanted Telephone Calls 

The other day I was just preparing to leave the house to go to my chaplaincies when the phone rang. This friendly mature woman's voice said, "Oh hello, I'm from ..... and I have an offer for you." It was an Electricity company, though she rattled off the name so quickly I could not pick it up. "I can offer you electricity a whole lot cheaper than what you are getting it now." (They all say that - how do they know how much I am paying for my Electricity anyway?) She waffled on in enthusiastic terms about her offer. I politely said "No we do not want to change power companies." (I did not have a clue what power company we had anyway - that is my wife's domain.) Undaunted the lady went on... "But why not? We are offering you a really good deal and there's a free winter discount thrown in. What are you paying per month now? We will be better than whatever it is." "Look" I said, "I don't have time for this. We are happy where we are. There are so many callers offering deals. Sorry." She was not put off, "But why not? Why not when we are offering it so cheap?" and she continued to try to push her deal, in a bright pseudo friendly way.   "Sorry" I said, "I have to go." "When can I call back? What day would suit?......." she was going on... "Ohhhh..." Click!

I felt invaded. I wanted to scream at her..."When I want to change power companies I'll come looking. Don't call me, we'll call you!" Somehow this person felt it OK to come into my house, interrupt what I was doing and keep up her prattle even when it was obvious I wasn't interested.  It is "Home Invasion".

Then of course there are the dirtbag computer callers... We have had three today. "We are from Microsoft Windows. (or whoever) We've noticed .....  activity from your computer...." or some such thing. Some times I just go "Click".  Sometimes I lead them on then tell them they are evil then go "click." I once had a loud piercing whistle by the phone which I blew down the line.  Once I felt really mischievous and kept the person talking. They were talking as if I had a "Windows" based PC and they "knew that at that time unscrupulous people were getting into my computer." I listened and made the appropriate responses.... they were talking as if they could see my screen..."But.." I said innocently, "I wonder how you can know all this stuff? Something must be wrong! Its amazing....You see ....  I've got a Mac...! .....and you are evil." ... ........silence ... then they went "Click!" I probably should not call them "evil" but I feel angry because I know of elderly people who have been badly ripped off by these scammers. 

Then there are people who mean well... Some years ago we went away for a trip and came back to find a group from a place I worked for had come out and painted our house. That was nice, but we did feel awkward about it. We were intending to paint it. Maybe we would have chosen a different colour? We did not leave the house and grounds in a condition that we would feel comfortable to have people visiting. While their gesture was very generous, there was a sense that our privacy had been invaded. Then the local community newspaper got onto it, and the reporter made a date to come with representatives of the group for photographs etc. My wife in particular felt uncomfortable and felt boundaries had been crossed. It felt like they were implying that there was something wrong with the way we lived and they were going to "fix us" in some way. It was, however, a generous gesture, and we expressed our appreciation. This feeling of "invasion" emerged for me the other day though, when I was visiting the place where this group came from. Sitting in a small group, one of the guys asked, "How many old cars have you got in your drive now Dave?" I'm used to people joking about my old cars, but where was this leading? "I have three, and they are all going and all registered and warranted." I replied. "Oh!" he grinned, "Is that a sensitive subject? It's just that I remember painting your house and your drive being full of elderly cars we had to work around." I felt judged and put down just because I choose to drive and own (perhaps - can only afford to own) older vehicles. I just accepted his humorous scoff, and moved on in the group conversation. But I felt like yelling, "If you are going to play the 'saviour' and paint my house, at least have the wisdom, grace and empathy to accept me for who I am!" I have been conscious for a long time that even our charitable acts can be invasive, hurtful and belittling sometimes. 

Celebrating 50 years of marriage - the weird journey.

During first 5 months of our dating days at a Church youth Leadership weekend.

At a youth Hangi we helped organise. (Hangi is traditional Maori cook up - food is cooked above heated rocks in a pit in the ground) We had so many there we had to go buy fish and chips to supplement the Hangi food.

A Christmas Camp in the North Island 1968? We are in the front row 2nd and 3rd from the left.

My wife, Jean, and I celebrated our fiftieth wedding anniversary last weekend.

It all began in 1965/66

There was an Ecumenical youth gathering in Hamilton, in the North Island over the summer holidays that year. Jean and I were part of a group from our town that travelled up. We attended different Churches but I knew her from shared youth group events we attended from time to time. Fifteen hundred young people gathered in Hamilton, and we had a couple of conversations on the train going up. But at the conference there was a table tennis area where during breaks in the program people could play. I was among the youngest attending (I was a year short of the age group allowed to attend, but my minister assured them I was mature enough) so I rarely got to play. I enjoyed watching the games some very skilled players participated in, and it turned out that Jean and her friend also enjoyed these. So sitting watching table tennis we talked, enjoying each other's company. I went on to holiday nearby and eventually went back to Dunedin. I had actually started a humorous correspondence with a girl I met on that second part of my holiday, who lived in the North Island, but I decided I needed to catch up with Jean again. I nervously rang her one Saturday inviting her to come to the films with me and our friendship began in earnest. You have to understand that I was very shy, especially around girls so this was a big step for me. We dated on Saturday evenings and sometimes phoned during the week. In time Friday night meet ups and Sunday afternoon walks or bike rides happened. I was beginning a plumbing apprenticeship and she was training to be a teacher and almost a year older than I was. I did not have a car so we walked miles together. While we walked we talked. For two years we dated. I recall one time I had walked her home to her place having had coffee after a film and stopped to talk in a bus shelter. Then I walked the two and a half miles home to my house. It hit me that this relationship was really serious, and did I really want that? I walked and stewed and even kept walking past my house, because I hadn't stopped thinking. I decided I wanted to continue in this relationship and pretty soon after that we were engaged. I think all the talking we did was a great and important investment in our future. Secondly we had similar values and beliefs and got involved in church youth work and activities. We had similar beliefs, similar questions and basic directions.

We were married at St Andrew St. Church of Christ on 10th May, 1969. 

I've always thought that this photo begs the question, "What's ahead for us?"

We bought a house on Baldwin Street, which is now classified as "The steepest street in the world."  I was plumbing and she was teaching and we thought that was what it would always be.

Not long after I had decided to go to University (1971) and study to become a minister, our first baby arrived.

A big change of direction

I finished my plumbing apprenticeship and was studying for Advanced Trade Certificate when I decided to attempt to change careers. I was deeply troubled. I attended Church on Sundays and was still very active, but then worked on big building sites with tradesmen during the week. It seemed to me that there was a big gap between my two worlds. What happened in Church would not ring bells with the guys I worked with. They accepted me. I recall a foreman introducing me to a new workmate, saying, "This is Dave, he's religious but he's OK." Later that new workmate ended up in deep trouble. He was an alcoholic and tended to get violent, so his marriage blew apart and he had no where to go. He came and stayed with Jean and I and we and our friends supported him. We eventually found him accommodation elsewhere, but shortly after he committed suicide. Our experience with him had me asking questions of the faith and of the Church. I decided to study toward ministry, at the very least the study would help me sort out my faith. Family thought I was too shy to be a minister, but in spite of the fact that Jean's dad had been a minister, Jean felt we ought to begin study for Church ministry. We began in NZ and then moved to an Australian Theological College for four years. We established deep friendships with some fellow student families that have lasted for years. When we came out of college we moved back to NZ and had a six year ministry in Palmerston North in the North Island. We learned a lot during a busy ministry. The Church had Youth groups, Boys and Girls Brigades and lots of contacts. We were very busy each week.  While we were there they decided to build a new chapel. 

After some University work in NZ we moved to an Australian Theological College in Melbourne. We had a flat at the College for three of four years of study, and our second child was born.

During college we assisted ministry in Churches. In our last year of College we worked at Boronia Church of Christ where a new Church was being built.

Back in New Zealand our first full time ministry was a six year ministry at the Takaro Combined Church.

My first wedding where I was the officiating ministry with full authority "vested in me".

A mobile ministry

While at Palmerston North we added two more children to the family. We had decided to adopt a "special needs" baby and ended up doing that twice. Apparently the Social Welfare department found it hard to find homes for mixed race babies, so we adopted first one, and a year or so later a second little baby boy. We were then appointed to a travelling ministry doing "fieldwork" in Churches throughout New Zealand and living in a 25ft Caravan towed by an old ambulance. We enjoyed that, doing the North Island one year and the South Island the next. Our tasks depended on what the local Church needed or wanted. We did a lot of group work and encouragement. After that we were unsure about continuing in Church ministry. We had purchased an old house on an acre of ground in the little country village of Apiti to store our furniture and as a place to come back to.  We moved into it, did some repairs and enrolled the children in the local schools.  We milked goats, bought chickens and planted a vegetable garden. I had a part time ministry at a Church some distance away, and earned some extra income working on farms. It was a delightful place to live, but I always felt conflicted. When I was working at the Church, I often wished I was doing stuff on our acre, and when I was doing stuff in Apiti, I felt like I ought to be at the Church. One of my dear friends from the Palmerston North Church visited and was quite blunt. "Stop hiding away out here. You're burying your gifts!" Another elder visited who used to be a farmer and was intrigued with me working on farms, but was also quite blunt. "But you've got what it takes to be a good minister! That's where you should be!"

On top of the "Desert Road" in the North Island of NZ

The family - the children did Correspondence schooling for two years.

After two years of travelling we moved into an old house in the little village of Apiti. We did "self-sufficiency" things, like milking goats, keeping hens and growing vegetables.

We bought this old house on an acre of ground in Apiti that needed lots of repairs.

A failed project

After a year we were persuaded to go into a venture with some friends. We had enjoyed living at Apiti and had been surprised at how when we gave hospitality to troubled people they often relaxed and found new strength and priorities. We saw people grow, just by enjoying country hospitality and relaxed conversation. A couple we were friends with had this concept of starting a retreat centre at a place just North of Dunedin and wanted us to join them. We could rent it, and work toward setting up a place of hospitality and renewal. So we bundled up our possessions, our hens, goats and pets and moved to this big villa that had been part of a psychiatric hospital. I eventually got work in a hardware store and then we worked for our landlord who owned the whole complex. After two years relationships were strained and I felt we were being drawn into the landlord's projects and the retreat centre was being put on the back burner. I was asked if I would be part of a team ministry at the St Andrew Street Church of Christ in Dunedin. So we accepted. I had to laugh at the divine humour. Years before at my first conference as a minister in New Zealand, one of the St Andrew Street elders had met me, shook my hand and said, "Maybe you'll be our minister one day." We greeted each other briefly and he moved away. I turned to my wife and said, "Like hell!" There was no way I could see myself ministering there! ...  But we did and we ended up ministering at St Andrew Street Church of Christ in Dunedin for 27 years, until we retired. 

We moved to Sawyers Bay, an outer suburb of Dunedin. Pania joined our family as our foster daughter. She copes with severe disabilities, and continues to be an important part of our family. She joined us when she was 9 years old. 

"New Technology" for St Andrew St. an Overhead Projector. When we finished there, power points through computer and big TV screen were the current systems. 

We ran 25 Community Christmas Day dinners at St Andrew Street. 

I have spent 25 years as chaplain to the Fire Service in Dunedin. I am contracted for four hours a week. 

This is a wedding I conducted in the yard at Speights Brewery where I have been Workplace Chaplain for 25 years. Both Jean and I have been involved in Industrial Chaplaincy. I am currently chaplain to fire fighters, ambulance staff and Speights Brewery

For 19 years we ran a Friday Night Drop-in Centre at St Andrew St Church. 

The first of 13 Habitat for Humanity houses we built in Dunedin. Both Jean & I have been directors of Habitat for Humanity in Dunedin. We both put many hours in on the house sites - I was working most Saturdays. We are not involved now.

St Andrew St Church of Christ in Dunedin.  Below the new generation comes... we have 7.5 grandchildren.

We were driven to our 50th Anniversary night out by one of my fire fighters in his fancy Mercedes.

We made it - at our dinner on our Golden Anniversary - fifty years seems to have gone fast. Heaps of experiences along the way. We are now "retired" but helping out in the local Presbyterian Church.

So thankful for the journey.

That is a very quick race through our fifty years. There has been many other things at each place we've been. Everything we have done has been as a team. Jean makes up for my many weaknesses. Jean has done things in her own right. She has done relieving teaching at times, then worked as a Teacher's Aid with troubled children. She has often pushed for changes in the Church that I would be fearful to initiate. Jean was awarded the "Star Community Award" for her community work in 2006. It was promoted by a local newspaper. She works as a volunteer for St John Ambulance in the Emergency Department of the local hospital, and has received a twelve year medal for that. I was awarded a "Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit" medal in 2003. Our children have each married, have established families and are each working in chosen careers. 

Five years ago we retired. We live in an old house on an acre of ground. We grow vegetables, have fruit trees and keep hens. We assist the local little Presbyterian Church. The journey has had lots of ups and downs but I have been pleased with our ability to talk things through. So many people have helped us along the way, many are no longer with us. 

Life is good, we have been fortunate and though poor, we are rich in memories, fulfilment and love.

Left to right - My youngest brother Stephen, stood in for my father who had died in 1964. Jean's mother, the happy couple (I was just 20 years old) Jean's father and my mum. It does not seem 50 years ago.

2019 what a year.

Health report

Since my last post I have had surgery. They cut two holes in my side to go into my chest to have a look and take some samples for a biopsy. I went in on a Tuesday and came out on the following Sunday. I know it sounds silly, but I enjoy hospital stays. One thing is that you have no responsibilities. Every thing is taken out of your hands, you just do what you are told. Secondly I enjoy the relationships and people I meet. The nurses were amazing. We could have fun and yet they were professional and did their tasks on me diligently and in a friendly way. I also enjoyed relating to the other patients in the room with me. I was to have my operation then once I had recovered sufficiently, I would go home and a week later they would tell me my results. I am always amazed at the anaesthetic process. You are there one minute and the next you are woken up in the recovery room. They moved me back to the room, with me still quite groggy and struggling to stay awake. One of the patients opposite left a day earlier than I did. As he left he took my phone number and said he would check in a week to see if I had results and he would share his. Doctors visited frequently and the interesting thing was that each Doctor who came past my bed seemed to say something like, "You know if we find cancer the prognosis would not be good." I thought, "Gee they seem to be preparing me for the worst?" I was not that concerned, I had come to terms with that possibility in my thinking. A week later, March 15th, the night of the terrible terror attack in the mosque in Christchurch, I had a phone call saying I was clear of cancer. I still do not know what caused the build up of fluid, but it has not happened again yet. I am feeling quite well now. The next day I received a text from my fellow patient asking about my results. I texted back the good result and asked about his. He too was clear, and texted back that "it was bloody good to spend time in hospital with somebody with a sense of humour." That's what I enjoy about hospital, you can cut through the crap of life and help each other through what can be challenging times. 

Tragedy in Christchurch

Christchurch is a city about five hour's drive north of Dunedin where I live. On Friday March 15th I had returned to visiting fire stations in the afternoon. I went into one suburban station and the guys were watching the terrible developments in Christchurch on TV.  I was extremely sad... fifty people shot dead at worship in two mosques in Christchurch, it seemed unbelievable. In the following weeks I became proud of New Zealand's response to the tragedy. Our Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern did a fantastic job in showing an example to all how we ought to care. I was to lead worship on the Sunday in our wee Church here, and we began with a quiet time, prayer, and following the service everybody attending signed a letter to the local Dunedin Mosque. The perpetrator lived in my home town, Dunedin, then travelled to Christchurch to carry out his terrible deed. I am concerned that his act seems to have encouraged some white supremicists to be more vocal. I think we ought to be doing more thinking about when does free speech turn to hate speech? I am concerned that extreme right wing thinking is emerging in places throughout the world. I hope higher ideals win the day. It is certainly a weird, troubled world we live in. 

Gavin died

Since retiring I have continued to visit an elderly man from my old congregation. I would call at the rest home and have a good conversation with him. He was Gavin Munro, who had been a Principal of the Churches of Christ, Glen Leith Bible College.  They had a partnership with a Presbyterian College, so he lectured there also. I had known Gavin since I was a child. In 1971 when I decided to study, perhaps with the goal of Church ministry, it was Gavin I turned to for advice. He enrolled me in the college and took me for a couple of subjects while I did University study. We lived in a cottage at the college. The college closed at the end of that year, and I deeply disappointed Gavin by moving to Australia to study. But he has continued to be supportive of me throughout my career. A year or so before I retired he gave me a fright. It was at the Church Annual General meeting, where any gripes about the minister are aired. Gavin rose to his feet and addressed the meeting. I was sitting at the back of the Church. He began with his deep voice and said; "David Brown is our minister." ... big pause.  I froze, what is he going to say?  He continued. "He does not run this church like I would run this Church." - Oh dear, what on earth is coming? I thought Gavin would talk directly to me if he had a criticism? After another big pause as the assembled meeting all were wondering what was coming, he continued... "He runs it better than I could ever do it!" ... sheer relief, but I am sure he knew that he had my heart thumping in the process. Gavin was now 93 years old and I had visited him last year not long before Christmas and found that his well being had slipped. I had struggled to have a conversation with him. Because of my busyness and health issues I had not been for a while. I finally went to see him again, wondering how he would be. We sat and chatted. He struggled a little with memory but we had a warm conversation. He shook my hand firmly as I left and said, "Go well, that was a good visit." Five days later I got the message that he had died. He had left instructions that I was to take his funeral, so I found myself in my old Church looking out on a full church, leading his funeral. Several people took part.  As I shared a final tribute, I surprised myself by becoming emotional on two occasions.  We had travelled a long road and now the last of my "spiritual fathers" had gone.  It was grief at Gavin's passing, but also grief that the Denomination that he and I had spent our life times working within, is now so far away from the ideals we shared.  Goodbye old friend. 

Peter Died

When I began visiting St John Ambulance, I met a man who helped the mechanics in the garage. In 2002 he had asked me to lead his estranged wife's funeral, so I got to know the family a little. He had been an Ambulance officer, beginning in 1976, but had retired from that, then taken on the job in the garage. He had led a varied life, living in an orphanage as a child, working on farms, and had run a country store before becoming an Ambulance officer. He had battled a few illnesses since I have known him and joked with me that I would take his funeral. I was visiting my son in Christchurch over Easter when I had a phone call from his daughter. "Dad has died, and he left instructions that you were to take his funeral." I had not seen him for a few years, he was now 84 years old, and in a way had been fortunate to last as long as he had.  I met with his daughters and it was then they said that he had left instructions that at his funeral there should be "no religion." So again, though technically, retired, I was to lead a funeral. It was in a town about one and a half hours away from Dunedin, and I had to drive through terrible rain and wind to get there. As I gathered in the after-funeral-function I had positive feedback about the funeral, but also enjoyed friendship from St John people. I felt really privileged to be accepted by this group of people as "one of them" with hugs, warm handshakes and stories shared. Driving home I parked by a lake to drink some coffee, and I found myself reflecting with deep gratitude on the connections I am so privileged to have through my chaplaincy activities. 

I am getting older, I have to be careful with my back, it is more difficult to do stuff I used to do easily, but I am rich in the friendships and experiences I have and life is basically good.

Fifty Years 

I have a big problem. This coming Friday is the 10th of May. Fifty years ago a young couple, who had dated for about three years, stood on the platform of my old Church, and we were married. How do you celebrate a fifty year anniversary? What do you buy as a present? That is my problem.... Next post I'll let you know how we get on.

  

 

Why Donald Trump? US Democracy?

I must apologise for commenting on the politics of another country. I have ended up taking an immense interest in what is happening with Donald Trump and the USA. Normally my interest in USA politics was minimal. I was frequently turned off a lot of American stuff, (T.V. programs, show biz hoopla and sport) so did not take any real interest. I could not understand the processes for selecting a president and the Senate and Congress. I liked President Obama and had a US friend in Dunedin who was a fan, so I took more of an interest in him. But the advent of Trump has drawn me in much more. I have learned about the election process and the Senate and Congress, and know much more now. (But am still pretty ignorant and still picking stuff up.) I check "Trump News" every day. There is a heap about the current situation I do not understand.
I do not understand how Donald Trump got elected!
I take one look at the man and I think he has poor character. In his campaign he said things like, "I know more about ISIS than the Generals", "I know more about the Bible than anybody else." "Nobody knows more about walls (taxes, etc. etc.) than I do." "I know lots of words." - Now people who make such extravagant claims, whoever they are are just displaying their ignorance. They are weird to say such things in public. The average New Zealander would immediately be put off by someone like that. It is impossible to be an expert in so many fields and when somebody spouts like that, how come the average USA citizen doesn't say "What the...?" He cannot take criticism without putting down the questioner with name calling and weird down putting comments. It is bad school yard, childish behaviour, so how come so many USA citizens didn't say "Good Grief, he's not fit to be president?" He cannot answer questions put to him logically. If you look at his answers they are often in half finished sentences, he gets off the subject and evades direct answers. Again "duh?" Why didn't it ring alarm bells? I could go on, but I could not believe, and cannot fathom how such a man got elected. My first look at him, even on "The Apprentice" before any political involvement, had me going "Yuck!" The fearful thing is that in someways he shows in an extreme way the end result of the twisted values we in western society often applaud. He is outgoing, pushy go-get-'em type of person. He is rich! He is powerful. He has gorgeous women, expensive clothing. etc. etc.  He perhaps high lights how weak and superficial our western values are.

I do not understand how respectable, seemingly responsible members of the Republican party are loyal to him?
Donald Trump is a liar? I guess all politicians lie, or are careless with the truth. They exaggerate. They leave facts out. They put a questionable slant on things. But Donald Trump tells endless bald, bad, straight out lies that fact checking can discount. I watched him answering a question about the North Korean leader's involvement in the Otto Warmbier's death. He took time out for self aggrandisement. ("I freed the hostages") but then prattled on about "I don't believe he did", "there are terrible things that happen in jails" etc. etc. I looked at his language, his face, his body language and thought that if one of my children was talking like that in answer to some investigative question, I would immediately assume they were making it up and lying. And I would be correct.  Donald Trump lies his way through life.  He responds in derogatory, down-putting ways in controversy, often name calling. It is not a great example to the children of the nation! It is not very constructive, adult and meaningful interaction. His morals are questionable. He abuses his power. The number of people linked to him who have been charged with criminal activity shows the sort of crowd he mixes with and depends upon.  I could go on. If I was an American citizen (and I am pleased I am not) I would probably be a Democrat. But I have read of and learned about Republicans who seem decent, caring, responsible citizens. As I watched videos of Cohen giving his testimony and the Republicans questioning him, I thought "How can you support Donald Trump so loyally?" I look at Vice President Pence and his loyal support. He is a Christian, meant to be a follower of Jesus, yet he talks of Trump like he is USA's messiah? I see the Republican law makers supporting this awful man, and wonder where their moral compass has gone? Even if the economy was booming, there were heaps of jobs etc etc. this man is just not fit to be the leader of a nation! He is an embarrassment. "Why do you support him?" I want to scream at them. 

America prides itself as a democracy, and yet one man seems to have such power and control?
I look at the New Zealand democracy and the political system here. Our Prime Minister does not have anywhere near the freedom Donald Trump has. If she wants to put a policy in place, she has to argue it before her caucus of elected people. Her political party would probably have a say. Then she has to argue it through three readings in parliament with various inter-party committees looking into it.  The finance minister, Minister of housing, Minister of Foreign affairs, Minister of health etc. etc. are not some personal friend in life that she calls in to have power and influence in running the country. They are drawn from elected members of Parliament who are accountable to the electorate for their actions and decisions. It seems that Donald Trump can make up policy while he watches his TV shows and can action policy. e.g. "Lets pull out of Syria!" The Republican Party has little input into it. He can declare a National Emergency. He can have his daughter, son-in-law and friends, or acquaintances acting in powerful roles in the White House whether they are equipped for the role or not. It feels very undemocratic from our point of view. The President has powers and decision making freedoms that our prime minister would never have. People making important decisions are not accountable to the electorate. If I was an American I would say that "the advent of Donald Trump teaches us that some how our political system needs looked at." The wrong person can be so destructive in power, and is basically unchecked.

Horrible Blasphemy!
I was absolutely repulsed when I watched President Trump winding up a speech and extolling the values he claimed to be promoting. "In God we trust!" he shouted. "Yeah right!" Not my God. He does not in any way exhibit the ways of Jesus! It made me sick to the stomach to see the distortion and cheapening of the way of Christ! 
Sarah Sanders also pontificated that Donald Trump was "God's man". Bullshit! That too is blasphemy. Pat Robertson, the religious right preacher also said the same sort of thing and other evangelical, people with questionable theology and motives are extolling Donald Trump as "of God". They are cheapening Jesus and the way of Jesus and I absolutely reject that and am repulsed by it. 

I hope that in 2020 the United States gets back to some sort of civility and normality. "I believe that evil dies, good lives on, loves on and conquers all." wrote the celebrated English Army Chaplain, G. A. Studdert-Kennedy.  I guess I keep watching Donald Trump news hoping for that victory to happen, because I think he is a sick, evil man!

Death, new life and hospitals again!

Rosalea Mia Brown born in Edinburgh

Our son and his family in Edinburgh.

I was presented with this and a voucher to mark 25 years as a Workplace Chaplain

How life changes - taken I think about 1980, my wife and I are 3rd and 4th from the left.

Death...

While we were on holiday I had a phone call from my friend Graeme's sister. He had died some weeks before, had not wanted a funeral, but now she was inviting me to be present as his family buried his ashes at his parents' plot. "Would you like to be there with the family?" she asked. "Yes." I replied. Graeme had been a good friend during our school days. "Would you be able to say a few words. We haven't a clue what to do?" "Yes, I would be happy to, we were good mates!" I said wondering if I would be up to doing it. I had been wheezing and coughing a lot and been getting very tired. So a couple of weekends later, after taking a part in an annual service remembering Merchant Navy seamen and their part in the World Wars, my wife and I headed for the cemetery.  We joined the family around the prepared hole in the ground. I introduced myself because some would not have known me, then asked the people gathered to share memories and thoughts. One by one they did with each bouncing off other comments. When it seemed right I said a few words and invited his sister to put the little named box of ashes in the hole. She stepped forward knelt and put it in. She couldn't get it to fit under the plinth, so she looked up at me and asked, "David can you do it for me?" I knelt, gently took the box from her hands and moved it into place. "Thanks for your friendship Graeme." I said quietly, as I placed his remains in place. Then it hit me, I was burying a school mate, maybe I could be next, certainly I am of the age and I was wheezing. We finished the brief ceremony and took turns at filling in the hole. One cousin's wife, with Maori heritage, softly sang a spontaneous appropriate song, which was quite unexpected and moving. Afterward we left the family to go to a restaurant together and we went for some coffee. I found it quite an emotional experience.
Birth...
While we were on holiday we received word that our seventh grandchild, a girl, had been born in Edinburgh. Rosalea Mia Brown came into the world and we received a photo on our phone. It is moments like this that makes the distance between NZ and Edinburgh, Scotland, seem so far away. It may as well be in space! We have since met a few times on Skype but sometime it will be great to hold her physically and share the delight with her family. Life goes on, a new generation begins to take over. 
Hospitals again.
After 2018 being bugged by health issues, I looked forward to 2019 being my healthy year. Last year I was treated for my over-active thyroid, (treatment continues) I had a prolapsed disk in my back that caused issues, and I was hospitalised three times with my prostate problems. "2019, turn the page, be healthy and get fit again", was my New Year motto. But I have been wheezy and struggling with shortness of breath. I thought that it would come right, but it didn't. Then one Monday evening I was sitting watching TV and I went into a coughing spree. I flaked out, collapsing forward in the chair. It was funny because my wife thought I was joking and ignored my performance, then suddenly realised I was actually out to it. She started shouting at me and banging me on my back. I came to wondering what had happened, and just said, "Stop hitting me!" We ignored the event and carried on. Just after midnight on the Wednesday night I woke up coughing and gasping for breath. "It feels like I am drowning!" I said to my wife.  On the Thursday I went to my brewery chaplaincy and walked up six stories of steps. I had done this once a week for twenty four years, but this time when I reached the top I was desperately holding on to the handrail to stay upright and gasping for breath! I met my wife briefly for lunch and told her, before she went to her volunteer work at the hospital. She texted me later, "Made an appointment with the Doctor for tomorrow at 2pm." She insisted on coming into the doctor's room with me. He checked me out. "It could be heart?" he commented. "It could be asthma?" I went down the hall gave blood for blood tests and was given an ECG. All was well, so I was given an inhaler, and told that a chest x-ray was booked and an appointment was made to see the Doctor again in a week. I later had a call from the medical centre advising that a blood test had raised an issue and if it got worse to go straight to the hospital emergency department. The next Thursday on my way to visit my brewery people again, I called at the hospital for the booked appointment with the x-ray department for a chest x-ray. It was taken and I asked the technician if my doctor would have the results for my appointment with him the next day. She commented, "I need to see a doctor here, can you wait here for five minutes?" She came back and informed me that I had "to go straight down to the emergency department, the Doctor was forwarding the x-ray to them." She actually led me there, I think to make sure I didn't escape. Long story short, I ended up in the respiratory ward and there, for the rest of the day, a doctor drained in excess of two litres of pink coloured fluid from around my left lung! The nurses, technicians and doctors were simply fabulous people. They were baffled as to why I had the fluid, but said honestly and openly, they were looking for cancer. I have since had a CT scan and last Friday my wife and I went in for a consultation. "We have not found any sign of cancer, but we still do not know why the fluid was there." They went on to say that the tests so far made them 80% sure that cancer was not present. My options were to carry on, and have a further chest x-ray in a month to see if fluid built up again, or they could do key hole surgery to go in and have a look... which if it was clear would make them 97% sure there was no cancer. "If there is cancer," they said, "it will be treatable but not able to be cured." They invited us to go away, have a cup of tea and decide what we wanted to do. We did, our daughter joined us, and I have decided to have the keyhole operation, so that I know what is happening. So in the next couple of weeks I'll be back in hospital. In some ways I am not worried.  If it is all bad news, I have had a good life, can look back with satisfaction and die in peace. (though I would not like looking forward to slowly losing the ability to breathe. I could think of better ways of going.) I mentioned to my wife that if it was bad, I would leave her in a bit of a mess, with a big block of land and house that both need a lot of work to tidy them up. "I'll would cope." she said, confidently, and I wondered if that came out a bit fast?? I am feeling better and more energetic now so am feeling positive. It was my turn to lead a Church service this morning, and I think it had a bit of urgency and edge that otherwise might not have been there. So we will see what 2019 will bring. Meantime life goes on as per normal.

Photos from the last few weeks.

We were heading away for a holiday to visit family, so we had to do some last minute checking of our vege patch. I do love getting a meal out of the garden. Three pictures of just some parts of our garden.

A potato patch 

Various veges, beans, turnips, silver beet etc.

Love these healthy leaf vegetables

We took a couple of days to drive the 360 Kilometres to the City of Christchurch, where we spent time visiting with our son and his family. After a weekend of enjoying them we drove the next 308k to Blenheim to stop for a couple of nights. That trip was hindered often by having to stop for massive road works. They had a devastating earthquake which ruined roads and rail in the area a couple of years ago. Vast hillsides slid down, and big areas of the sea bed shunted up. From Blenheim we caught the ferry across Cook Strait to Wellington, NZ's capital city. (a three hour cruise) There we spent time with my oldest son, his wife and two children. On the Sunday we drove North over the Rimitaka Hill to the Wairarapa plains. My son has moved a house on to a block of land in the country and on a very hot day he and I fixed up the spouting (guttering) on the house.

My old van caked in sea salt because it ended up out on the deck of the ferry for the three hour crossing.

I walked up a big hill behind my son's house. This is looking down on the suburb of Island Bay.

There is this rock statue on top of the hill I climbed. To prove I made it I had to take a photo.

The house on the block in Wairarapa has been moved on to the flat paddock. It requires lots of work, so I was pleased to help my son for a day. It was hot though and I increasingly find I cant work at the pace I used to. I am in the bright overalls.

On the Monday we caught the ferry back to the south island. We had taken some stuff up to my son, but while in Wellington we visited the shop at the rubbish tip and a favourite secondhand book shop. At the rubbish tip I spied this vanity unit which was better than we had in our bathroom at home. We purchased it and it fitted in our trusty van.

Going to the South Island the ferry sails through the beautiful Marlborough Sounds. It is a fascinating area of our beautiful country.

Today we installed the vanity unit in our bathroom.  It cost us only $15. Tidied up and self installed it was pretty cheap all around. I love beating the consumer system and recycling old stuff as much as possible.

My wife was not that keen, but we drove the distance from Blenheim to home in one day. It is only 663 Kilometres, but on NZ roads that is quite a distance. My van is an old 1996 Nissan Diesel which when I bought it years ago, only cost $1500. People often give me cheek about it. I do a lot of my own mechanical work, but it has more than paid for itself in the trips we have done and the loads we have carried. I enjoy driving and was so pleased with the way the old beast handled our break away. It was great to spend time with the two families. While we were travelling our son's wife in Edinburgh had a new baby girl. They now have three children, two boys and a daughter. Since being home we have met our new granddaughter via Skype. Life is good. The busyness of 2019 starts for me on Monday. A big part of me has enjoyed the life of freedom over these last few of weeks and I feel a bit reluctant to pick up my responsibilities again.