Was woken this morning by a text from dad at 7.20 AM saying. “Hi. Better have a look at the dom.” Didn’t have a paper on hand but lay awake worrying what the paper might have to say. Had a bit of a clue because favoured Wellington blog “Eye of the Fish” posted this article last night. (Incidentally, love the response comment from George Smith.)
Anyway, got hold of a paper at first opportunity. There we are, a large article on page four. Lovely.
If I allowed swearing on my blog, I would write something strong here like “Oh Fuck.”
Glad that Kat and Mike have corrected some of the errors in the article. It’s not an accurate article, and very unfortunate that these family discussions have spilt over into the media. Not surprising though.
I’m not giving up. I still believe in the church. I still believe in the anglican church even. There is hope.
God grabbed me. God’s Spirit took me up and set me down in the middle of an open plain strewn with bones. He led me around and among them—a lot of bones! There were bones all over the plain—dry bones, bleached by the sun.
He said to me, "Son of man, can these bones live?"
I said, "Master God, only you know that."
He said to me, "Prophesy over these bones: ‘Dry bones, listen to the Message of God!’"
God, the Master, told the dry bones, "Watch this: I’m bringing the breath of life to you and you’ll come to life. I’ll attach sinews to you, put meat on your bones, cover you with skin, and breathe life into you. You’ll come alive and you’ll realize that I am God!"