Not sure I’ve ever felt so torn. The burden of so much suffering, so much death around the world, in the knowledge that the virus is yet to ‘hit’ many of the most vulnerable people. It takes me back to that 2004 tsunami. And yet as I listen to people, one-by-one, so often I hear them speaking in terms of a Sabbath, even a Jubilee year, for themselves and for the earth.

With the prospect of self-isolation awaiting us on our return to NZ and then the news, as I was stepping out the door in Bangalore, that a new granddaughter (Lily) would be awaiting us in our Auckland home – it no longer seemed like a good idea to self-isolate at home.

Friends offered us a bach, or holiday cottage, out at Huia – about 40 minutes from our home.

It is Jan and Murray’s place. Ever the sentimentalist, I enjoyed recalling the memory that it was alongside Jan that I started my vocation as a Bible-teacher – in a Sunday school class with 11-12 year olds, more than forty years ago!

Our family has been coming to Huia for decades. Here I am with my siblings, Mark and Heather, walking with my Grandma (my Mum’s mother) in Huia. On a skype this week, Mum gave me some history of this photo, one of her favourites. It is taken just weeks before our family left for India (my parents took five children under 8 years of age!). My Grandma and Grandpa had offered to take we little ones out to Huia so that my parents could get the packing done. The photo is taken just metres from where I am sitting now…

Like I say, my family has been enjoying Huia for decades. Not just me as a little boy, but here also is my Mum (in the middle) as a little girl in Huia. Her parents added two extra boys, on the left in this photo, into their family of four children for a number of years. The boys’ parents served as missionaries in Tripura, among India’s northeastern states. which today hang like a bunch of grapes over Bangladesh.

While in reality it is not much more than a bush-clad pimple of a mountain, it is the majestic Jackie’s Peak that dominates the backdrop at Little Huia, the bay where we stay just a couple of kilometers beyond Huia itself.

Atop Jackie’s looking back towards ‘big’ Huia, on our first year of furlough (1967).

When Barby first visited NZ in 1981, as a rather trembling 20 year old flying around the world to see a boy, we spent that first day (straight from the airport, only stopping to buy tamarillos and feijoas on the way) at this bach just two doors from where we are right now. I guess she had very little inkling that this New Zealand would become her home for 40 years – and counting.

For those more geographically-inclined, the city of Auckland overflows from a central isthmus. It has two harbours coming at it: the Manukau, from the West, and the Waitemata, from the East. The blue dot represents Little Huia, while the blue inlet next to it is (Big) Huia Bay.

All these photos are taken just from my phone… The first panorama is looking east from the Little Huia shoreline across to Auckland, while the second panorama is from the highest point behind Little Huia, looking south across the Manukau Heads.

Whenever we come home it is the colour green that impacts us. Even at the end of a hot and dry summer, the Huia farmland seems so lush to our dust-filled Indian eyes.

Complementing the lush green of the farmland are the varied greens of the NZ ‘bush’, the word we use for our jungle, or forest. The queen of the bush is the punga, unfurling from tight embryo into perfect beauty and becoming the Kiwi metaphor for God’s work in our lives…

The stream is still there. My siblings and my children may not be too surprised to hear that, given the inner competitive fire (even in the absence of ‘live’ sport on TV, something that is not bothering me, which must be a good sign for my spirituality), I still cheat a bit in order to win the ‘leaf ‘n stick’ races (and yes, this is probably not so good for my spirituality). You win some, you lose some – even with spirituality :).  As for the finish line, it is still as picturesque as ever…

While there were more than enough Zooms to remind us that there was work to be done and while there was more than enough TV news & websites to draw us into the unfolding tragedy worldwide, I was determined to rest awhile and to read alot. By the end of today, the tally should be seven books (with Barby kindly arranging them so as to feature the huia bird).

[It is seven years since I watched TV in NZ in any sustained away. Lots of impressions and questions – but maybe these two can suffice for now: (a) Why do we need three (free-to-view) Christian TV stations, when two of them seem a bit theologically and culturally inappropriate? Is anyone counting the collateral damage being done to the cause of the gospel?; and (b) What are the reasons behind Pat Robertson (90) and Charles Stanley (87) still being on TV?].

We tried a jigsaw puzzle. Usually we get into the spirit of it and do quite well. On this occasion our only real achievement was the messy 3D-effect we created where the mountain and the sky should be…

Mindful of four grandchildren, together with their brave mum and dad, being in lockdown mode a few hours south of here we tried to play a small part in keeping them occupied. Barby’s efforts with plastic milk containers being far more successful than my efforts at weaving together five different types of foliage from the garden.

After one of the more stressful periods in our lives, and after a season of pouring herself so fully into the lives of others, I’ve enjoyed watching Barby relax and refresh…

… and, of course, it is only fair that if I show Barby at the peak of her beauty I should show a photo of me at the peak of my beauty.

So, here it is again, neatly cropped (and enlarged!) to enable a more attentive viewing…

Please do take careful note of the sticking plaster on my forehead. All expressions of empathy can be posted below. You’ll be glad to know that I have recovered well.

And yes, it does kinda look like I am pointing rather prophetically in Barby’s general direction, doesn’t it?

nice chatting

Paul