A Little Shade

Even though every time I open the app it says it has stopped working before it opens, NT Bus Tracker has become my best friend in the Territory. It tells me where the nearest bus stop is and which buses are arriving and when. Initially I was using the timetables provided on the website, and at the bus stops themselves, but this app kills the competition. With its assistance, I have been successfully navigating my way around Darwin with very little down time waiting for a ride.

However, it is on the subject of waiting to which I now turn my attention and ergo, your attention. In the hierarchy of bus stops, there are major stops and minor stops. The former appear on the timetables, the latter do not, but they are all on the app.

The major bus stops have seats and shelters which is very nice because it's hot here. I mean the weather is hot or hotter, and the sun invariably beats down upon the earth, and all of us who wander it, during the dry season. (The benefits of shelters in the wet season are potentially less significant for obvious reasons.) The minor stops have a sign. That's it. No shelter from the sun and nowhere to plant one's sweaty bottom.

Occasionally the dear little minors have trees which furnish the steaming traveller with shade, but many, dare I say most, have no shade and no seats.

And that is the extent of my problems in life at the moment. How blessed am I.

Boxes

What is the purpose of a box? Physically boxes provide space for things to be either transported or stored, or both. They are organisational devices. If they are strong they are effective, but even if they are weak, depending on the purpose for which they are used, they can still efficiently do the job for which they have been assigned. Boxes are made of different materials: cardboard, plastic, wood or metal, and they come in different shapes and sizes. Some have handles, and some do not. Some have lids, and some do not. Some boxes keep secrets. Other boxes reveal them. Some boxes contain treasures: things of either real or sentimental value, or both. Some boxes contain trash, while others hold a mixture of the worthy and the worthless.

Although I have a place to stay, I don't feel like I have a home at the moment. Much of my stuff is not with me, or is with me in boxes. Some of the boxes are full of things which I don't want any more. It should come as no surprise to anyone how easily one accumulates crap. It should come as no surprise to me, and yet I marvel at the things I have held on to, and the length of time which they have been in my possession. I wonder too, about the reason behind the keeping. Some things I know why, others I don't, but of the former, there are things which now seem so unimportant.

Moving away from the obvious: a house is a box, and so is a car. The human body is a box, and the mind is housed in what we colloquially refer to as the brain box, which is a huge closet with an alarming number of boxes in it. Many of these boxes are locked, or so we think, and we do not want to open them. We put people and experiences in these boxes because sometimes we just don't know what else to do with them.

Life becomes very messy when we open up too many boxes at once. Think of the temporary chaos which results from moving house. That horrendous sense of disorder invades our thoughts when we are under stress. Feeling emotional or physical pain causes, as Lucas called it, "a disturbance in the force." To deal with this disturbance we often start opening up boxes to find a cure.
The search for solutions may become frantic, and instead of being an orderly and peaceful process towards resolving a problem, it becomes a violent ransacking.

Does anyone understand what I am saying? Is there anybody listening? Can anybody hear me? Is anybody out there? It's time for a stock take.

Photograph sources:
https://churchunleashedglobal.org/box/
http://speakfearlessly.net/remarkable-talk-on-the-nature-of-the-brain-and-consciousness/

Destination Unkown

If you catch a train to work, you arrive at the train station knowing what time your train is due. It might arrive on schedule or late, or even be cancelled, but eventually you will get to your destination. The trip itself will be predictable and unless you have a good book, somewhat boring. After eight hours or so, you will ride the train home again. You paid for a return ticket because you don't want to stay at your destination. You want to go home.

Maybe you are about to take a long overdue and well earned vacation. You have chosen a destination from literally thousands of possibilities, a place where you really want to get away from it all and relax. You might catch a ship or fly, you'll find when your transport departs and from where, and you'll be there, on time and ready to go.

The time spent travelling to your holiday destination may be predicable and not especially enjoyable but when you get there you'll have bucket loads of fun. After a week or two you'll have to go home, and although you might want to stay on vacation a little longer, you can't. You bought a return ticket, so you have to go home. In fact, part of you wants to go home.

It doesn't matter where we go, or how long we stay, or for what reason we are travelling. Most of us will always want to go home eventually. Home is where we belong.

Life is often described as journey, and it is a good analogy. It is a voyage which we must all make and one for which we cannot purchase a return ticket. We do not choose to be born, and death is unavoidable. Much of what happens in between is beyond our control. Sometimes we feel as though we have very little choice, or worse; no choice at all.

We do however have a choice about the final destination of our souls. The Bible says that choice is simple. Hell is eternity without God. Heaven is eternity with God.

Of the two, heaven is the preferred destination, and the only way to get there is to choose to repent of your sin and place your faith in Jesus Christ. Climb aboard the train which is bound for the glory of our eternal home. It is where we belong.