To be clothed with the character of Jesus Christ!
Our life is fragile. Often we do foolish things to put it in jeopardy.
Often excess is the only dress we wear. To various degrees this applies to us all. My first encounter with ill-fortune happened when I was living in London. Just two months into my life of leisure, on a balmy spring day, I sauntered off to see Liverpool play at Wembley stadium. The football was brilliant!
The fans were tanked up full of totesterone!
At the begining bobbies hid their faces, behind huge helmets, out of respect for Liverpool fans.
Later as Liverpool slotted the goals they made absolutely no friends among the Scousers, when they tried untunefully to sing "Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you'll never walk alone.
Their dreadful untuneful "You'll never walk alone, you'll never walk alone" mutterings seemed to jolt the tifosi into a frenzy. Notwithstanding inspite of their attempts to ruin the celebration Liverpool won 3-0.
Steve Highway played great.
I had never witnessed hooliganism before.
I had been jammed packed at Eden Park.
I had been at Sydney stadium getting an earful from Aussies.
Today fear would run up and down my spine. Today only inches away from me, skinheads would kick and punch skinheads. Today my innocence would be violated, as I witnessed skulls being less prized than than a football with no air in it. A policeman was soon at hand offering protection. I grew, inspite of his obvious bravery,in helplessness.
Totally at a loss to understand this grotesque violence that was happening around me, I determined never again to go to such a huge gathering as this.
On the way home to the safe haven of Highbury I, too, became a victim to someone elses bizarre anger levels.
I was scolding some boys off for using bad language, when a blow from behind felled me. My attacker held onto me, as I willingly, profusely, apologised for upsetting his brain cell balance.
Being on the bossy/lazy side is a dangerous combination at the best of times.
A decade later whilst at work in the employ of Holday Inn I found myself being strangled by a Philippino from room service!
I did not know that the food cost controllers were so unpopular, until my air supply was almost spent.
I lay, once again, like a dazed corpse curious to see what would happen.
I have been pushed hard and shoved hard and had my intimate spots pinched until they went pink, yet, generally, I have not fared too badly.
After all this argy bargy, it was time to come home to New Zealand. It was time to come home to New Zealand, where I was not yet known for disturbing the peace of those who have none.
It was time to come home, where I would be safe from the uncouth, the obnoxious and the excessively violent. It was time to come home, where I was totally ignored by all but a few.
"What do you think about excessive drinking?"
This was the question I put to a young man, as I saw him sitting behind sunglasses, somewhat slovenly, on a park seat.
He told me that he did not see anything wrong with it, so long as it is done well. Seated less than a palm's width from him, I felt increasingly uncomfortable, as He went on to mention that throwing up was good too.
Later as I left him I had a fleeting urge to check my dress, even though I knew my dress was looking immaculate as a band of lovely spring weather was bringing its eye-catching colours to light.
I recalled how, earlier in the afternoon, I had been seated next to a stranger who had a living soul.
I looked every bit as beautiful as Marilyn Monroe at her best. I longed only to be taken seriously! I was not on this ocassion.
I know that I am fragile like a candle! I understand that I am a beautiful God-blessed, consecrated light, destined to be poured out in order to assist God in changing darkness to light.
My mission involves staying out of the blustery wind. My mission involves encouraging my fellow neighbours not to live their lives, without hope in Jesus Christ, like candles in the wind.