Post Easter

Winter is on its way. The pleasant autumn sun today is deceptive, as the cold truth of a Wellington winter is very sobering. There have been these mean little southerly winds popping out of the meteorological woodwork.
We are in the middle of the so-called Easter break. The Easter weekend began with a typical holiday collapse of resistance to the local bugs, and necessitated a visit to the Doctor and week's supply of pills. Losing one's voice is not good for a preacher. The voice died after the Easter sunday message.
New Zealand life continues in its nondescript way. Occasional excitement is noted when particular rugby games are on. Cricket doesn't do the same, and it is unlikely that too many people can afford to go to South Africa for the Football world cup - the prices in NZD are insane. The All Whites will have to be content with an audience on line cheerfully yelling for them.
As a South African living "abroad" the current reports on the state of affairs in the old country are disturbing. I have vivid memories of our two years (and a bit) in Rustenburg, the heart of Afrikaner country. Standing in the queue to use a public phone on the corner I was amazed to see a white male attack a black man who was sitting on the pavement. I have no idea why. But it made sense that Eugene Terblanche was prepared to stand for the Rustenburg constituency in the National elections. There were plenty of enthusiasts. "ET go home" was on a poster that appeared on the streets. It seemed that there were plenty of white right wing parties there anyway who didn't want the man in black on his large horse galloping through the town.
ET is home now I suppose. One can only hope that there is no outbreak of violence. The Farmers Unions seem to be mobilising in their own way. The violence, whichever way you look at it and whatever side you take, is horrible and endless.
We have begun our 5th year here officially. It seems like we have been here forever. The connections to South Africa are still very strong, and the Palmer children have some mixed feelings about living here to say the least. In the meantime we continue to do what we do as faithfully as we can. I was reminded by an old friend by email this week that the battle is not ours, and that faithfulness to the task we know is the most important thing.
This week we will be at Foxton Beach. Not being the largest place on the coast, few will know much about it. The "Bach" - the local word for a holiday cottage - has been kindly loaned to us by a colleague Presbyterian minister. A good opportunity to recuperate and prepare for the new term. School begins on the 19th with a College chapel service - one must be prepared for these things.
The Easter message of resurrection and hope has to be foundational in our lives - may you be inspired to see things from that point of view.
As always, yours truly
Robin