For this week we have had a guy named John and his aboriginal wife Theresa staying with us. Theresa is lovely. She is open with her story and likes dancing. John has some interesting ideas but very challenging. I have felt rather stretched for the week really. I feel like I have chosen to concentrate my life for this point in time on the homelessness issue, and I was happy with that, but John has been pushing us to think about what we can do around liberating aboriginal people and giving back to them their rightful claims on this land we are living. John has this sense that the one true cause that we should be fighting for is around aboriginal stuff. I am too easily influenced I think. Now I feel bad because I am not really doing anything in this area. The problem is that change in any area takes time and dedication and it comes through relationships and often the change that happens for people isn’t the change they initially planned for and it is possible even with the right intentions to get in the way. The moral of the story is people have to give their life and their intelligence to causes if they really want to make a difference and I am not sure if I want to give my life to this cause and now I feel guilty about not wanting to do that. Despite that rant we have been very blessed by our visitors.

I don’t know what to write. I don’t think my life is boring I just don’t have all that much to say. I hung out with my friend and his baby today. He was granted two hours twice a week of unsupervised access. This is a big step which has required 6 months of prayer to get. It was not hard to get because he is a dangerous person it was hard to get because no parent can be 100% perfect while being watched like a hawk in a box like room. (Mum this will interest you because you were here when I was really frustrated by the mean report DHS wrote about him. He got his unsupervised access. Yay.) The judge must have taken seriously the many positive character references he had.

I also bought a colourful string thing that goes around my neck and holds my keys today (I don’t know the name for them). I got it in the Oxfam shop and it is made in Guatamala. I was happy that it was from there.

I haven’t blogged in awhile so I thought I would start with something profound.

“It is not your hair,

It is not your favourite colour,

It is not your magazine,

It is your watch, that tells the most about you.”

Can you believe this? The other day in Credo we were looking through magazines and newspapers for the purpose of finding images of justice and injustice. When I came across this advertisement I was so moved by the justice it is expressing. Really, this should be canonised.