I’ve done a little bit of speaking at Riverview church over the last year and recently I was invited to come in January and share some thoughts as a part of a series called ‘In Every Moment – God is With Us’ – my section being the way in which God is with us in the darkness and the valleys.

Of course it’s a space to speak of how we have encountered and experienced God in the chaos and madness that is deep grief. I’m actually really happy to do this – as hard as it may be – because our experience ‘in the dark’ has been one of God’s presence and comfort as well as of hope. I won’t be doing it alone as I’ve asked Danelle to come and share some of her perspective as well as my old friend Morro with the song he wrote for us when Sam died.

I’ve pulled Danelle in because we have both approached this in very different ways – she is a feeler, and I am thinker so as you can imagine we have needed different means for processing.

As i pondered how to approach this I felt like I’d start with my first step in processing – which I’d call simply ‘being prepared’. Sooner or later life is gonna smack you in the face and if you don’t have an adequate worldview for processing disaster and calamity then you may get brought undone. When I wrote this blog on March 21st 2024, I had no idea Sam was going to die 3 days later. It came out of a conversation I had been having with Sam’s partner, Cosi, about what were the essentials / not negotiables of our faith.

Top of my list was ‘God is good’ and my sixth and final ‘not neg’ stated; ‘my hope is in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.‘ This wasn’t an academic exercise. It was more a reflection on the shape my faith has taken over the years and distillation of my deeply held convictions.

God is good. If you have been part of a church I have led, or been around me for a significant length of time then you’d know that this is absolutely foundational for me. If God isn’t good then we really are screwed… I won’t go into each aspect of my faith, except to say that having stuff nailed down before a storm of this magnitude hits is really valuable. I remember being up in the Pilbara region of WA at a caravan park and seeing these steel tie down points set in the concrete slab on which the caravan sat. The idea simply is that when a storm comes you tie yourself to the anchor points band you will not get destroyed.

1,500 × 1,125

In a context of a life gone awry, having anchor points in place means you aren’t forming up your theology and worldview while under fire and from a place of pain and disorientation. As a ‘thinker’, this framework was valuable for helping me not get lost in depression and disillusionment.

Over the last 21 months I have watched Danelle process all of this in a different way to me. At times she has sat in our bedroom for hours each morning writing, praying, listening and wrestling with God. And she has had a couple of profound experiences which come to those guided more by intuition. I don’t sense I have had to experience the utter rage and gut level wrestle she has endured but when so much of your identity is consumed with being ‘mum’ – and when one of the 2 kids you fought so hard to get (we had a long period of infertility followed by 2 x IVF babies) is gone you must lament. I’m pretty sure what Danelle will share will be some of the very gut level wrestle she has had just to survive this whole experience.

Finally I will share some of my learning around hope. I very rarely gave any thought to the world beyond this one and to the shape it may take. I love life and I love so much of the way our lives have taken shape over the years that it’s been difficult to imagine anything else that could be better. But Sam’s death has taken me into reflecting on our hope of the resurrection and the new creation to come – even to a place of anticipation. Interestingly I looked back on my Spotify top 5 songs for 2025 and 4 of them were reflective of what I have been experiencing. For some reason Passenger’s Sword from the Stone was my no 1 hit in the last year – not related at all to life… but after that there were ‘It is Well (with my soul)’, ‘Goodness of God‘, Some Great Day (by Perth guy Paul Goia) and no 5 was Take it In, by the Waifs.

I find it hard to articulate the almost ‘concreteness’ of the hope I now feel for the next life. It’s as if something that for a long time has been ethereal and indeterminate has come into view – like one of those magic eye pics where you feel like you’re looking at something fairly random – until it all comes into focus then you are able to see a dimension you knew was there but was beyond your view. So now when I contemplate the eternal and the new creation it’s as if those random shapes instantly shift back into position to create a beautiful picture. And yes – it’s hopeful – beautifully, wonderfully hopeful!

So yes – we will speak of these things – these gut wrenching, heart crushing experiences that in some way seem to have helped shape and formed who we are now as we have walked the path with our father God. Not bitter – not angry – always deeply sad – but moreso hopeful and anticipating the kingdom to come

‘I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.’

Sounds kinda dark…

But also kinda hopeful if you listen in a different way…

Jesus’ words speak of the wine being shared at Passover that he won’t get to share again with his disciples in this current life. He is acknowledging that his death will put an end to some things, but contained in that statement is also a focus on the future when they will once again share in a joyful celebration.

Hope is a curious phenomenon and one I have spent a fair bit of time reflecting on lately. Over the last year or so I have been conscious of hope rising in me – not in a wishful thinking ‘What Dreams May Come’ (movie) kind of way, but more in a ‘wow… this is beautiful’ way.

Only last week I was surfing in the little southern NSW town of Pambula and enjoying some fun waves on my own, when I thought – such a shame I can’t do this with Sam, and then, snap – like a reflex I had a second thought ‘but I will surf these waves with Sam again one day in the future kingdom.’ It changed the tone of the moment completely.

And I sense that will be reality. Not that the new creation will be an endless summer of perfect waves, but rather that the things we loved and valued from this life will carry over. It only makes sense that in the resurrection we will eat, drink and surf…

Some days life without Sam is brutal and confronting, while other days I can meet it with the knowledge that this life is not forever and one day there will be a reconnection – one that I don’t understand – but also one that forms and shapes hope in me. Maybe my imagination is getting the better of me, and I am creating reality as I would like it to be, or maybe (I am choosing to believe) as this journey goes on I’m having an ongoing experience of revelation that would never have been possible had Sam been present. 

And while I’d take his presence any day over his absence, I’m also enjoying the musing and reflecting on what the resurrection life might be like.

If I were gonna finish with an Aramaic phrase the obvious one is ‘maranatha’, (even so come Lord Jesus) but preferring our own Aussie idioms, I will simply say ‘bring it on!’

Until it doesn’t…

A second trend I observe is a whole lot of people wanting to know for sure that their theology is right on point or that their tribe has the bottom line on the truth. So… if you want to grow a church preach & cultivate certainty.

Whether it is your commitment to a specific brand of theology, or a passionate conviction that your causer / expression of worship/faith is the right way, most people during their life are looking for clarity and certainty – at least for a time.

Certainty is attractive in that it eliminates the fear of being wrong. “My pastor knows the Bible like no one else and teaches it faithfully!” That’s great… kind of… It’s good while he or she is keeping to the core stuff, but simple, dogmatic certainty on contentious or complicated issues is sooner or later going to come undone.

Perhaps a good example of this is eschatology. There are people out there who are absolutely convinced that they have the read on Revelation like no one else does. While I believe we can hold opinions on this stuff and possibly even convictions, I worry about those who simply can’t humbly acknowledge that many, many well educated people disagree with them. I have never preached thru the book of Revelation in 35 years of pastoring. I began to open it up a few years back, but realised that I was going to have to explain the various positions people had arrived at and then let them know that I didn’t have a hard theology on this stuff. It got messy real fast. I remember watching a Youtube video of 3 academics debating their opposing positions and simply thinking, ‘if these guys all disagree – and they are smarter than me – then what makes me think I make better sense of this text?’ I left it for another time…

As a year 12 school student studying poetry and observing the many ways a poem could be interpreted, I went to my pastor at the time and asked if the Bible was like that. Can we all read the same text, arrive at different conclusions and then all be ‘right’. He told me clearly that the Bible was not like that and there was one correct way of interpreting everything. I liked his confidence so I decided to throw my hand in with him and it formed me into something of a zealot for a time – that’s what happens when you are young and convinced you have a corner on truth. By the time I was 20 I had nailed down every scrappy corner of theology and I was your man if you wanted answers to difficult theological questions because I had asked them and got the answers from my omniscient pastor.

However I think he fed some bad advice that day. Maybe it was after church, he was hungry and just wanted to go home, but I wish he had said something like ‘well Andrew – that’s a good question – and its a little more complex than simple ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ Why don’t we explore that idea another time – and let me know what you think…’

Had he pushed me to think and had he sent me away curious, I sense I would benefited far more, but I was young and willing to take him at his word. For every verse there is a correct (and therefore incorrect) way of reading it. Nice. That works at 17. It works less at 27, much less at 37 and at 61 it feels absurd.

Unfortunately, a lot of faith is not crystal clear and is not certain. A lot of what it means to be a follower of Jesus is at times ambiguous and contextual. Dogmatic faith statements are wonderful for giving people confidence, but they don’t give room for the inevitable mystery and complexity. My hunch is that in times such as we are in at the moment which are tense and difficult, the churches that appeal to certainty and that offer clarity will be more popular with the masses than those who walk a middle ground and embrace complexity.

I heard recently of a fundamentalist church in our region that is growing rapidly. And it made me wonder… WHY?… When the King James Bible is your sword of choice and there is no room in the Christian gospel for social action, it already tells a tale. I grew up in one of these and much of my adult life has been a conscious decision to try and form churches that welcome thinking and disagreement. In this church you can disagree – but you’d be wrong…

I see people gravitating more readily to either the large, inspiring and often politically right leaning pentecostal churches as well as the articulate and well thought out reformed type churches where the Sunday diet can at times feel like a class in systematic theology. There is tribal energy in the former and intellectual cred in the latter. While I am not in the reformed camp I take time to tune in to some of their podcasts from time to time and there are a few speakers who do an excellent job of unfolding scripture and theology in a way that appeals to more rational thinking types. For some folks, having their theological ducks in a row is very comforting so this kind of church will warm their cockles.

However my observation is that churches that choose the middle line or that choose to even allow for ambiguities do not seem to grow at the same rate. When churches consciously allow for ambiguity and mystery they are appealing to a smaller segment of the church going population. To use Fowler’s stages of faith as a guide, the more rapidly growing churches appeal to levels 2-3 where there is conformity and aquiescence to the church line on theology, politics or behaviour. Whereas the less defined churches invite those who have entered deconstruction, or have recovered from deconstruction to come and be welcome – to not know the answers, to challenge the party line on what constitutes Christian behaviour, and to express reservations that any political group could possibly embrace all of what Jesus is on about.

I don’t think I could ever pastor in a church that was too sure of itself. Part of my own make-up is questioning the status quo, so I imagine I would be a stone in the shoe of those who just want to get on with the next big thing, or with nailing atonement theory, or some other complicated aspect of doctrine.

I have also been interested in the journey of some older leaders and theologians into the higher more liturgical expressions of worship. I am aware of some folks who grew up Baptist, Charismatic etc, but who now find themselves committed to their local Anglican church where the focus is the weekly eucharist and the worship & teaching are of lesser importance.

So that’s an observation – but again – it comes from the distant sideline. I’d be interested to know if anyone else sees similar patterns taking shape.

I was in conversation with a mate this morning who asked me about trends in the church in WA, his old stomping ground. He used to be a pastor, but found the demands overwhelming mentally and emotionally.

I observe two trends (admittedly from my fairly sideline position these days) so this will be a two post reflection.

My first observation is the absence of younger pastors coming through who are excited and enthused to either lead or plant churches. Maybe it’s just my tribe – the conservative evangelicals – who are waning, but I genuinely lament the lack of up and coming men and women who are going to lead the church into the future. When I say younger I mean under 35 – people who have not yet ‘peaked’ and who are bristling with the optimism of youth.

Unfortunately – that optimism inevitably gets pulled down a peg or two once they encounter the realities of ministry. And yes – sure – there is also a naivety that accompanies young pastors and church planters – a belief that they have the answers and will ‘sort things out’. But that’s ok – really it is. Those of us who are older can roll with that and help channel that energy into good things. As someone once said ‘you can’t teach passion’, but you can channel it. And while a healthy dose of reality is always valuable, too many younger leaders are observing the toll ministry takes on pastors as well as the demands of compliance and administration and they are baulking – questioning whether that is a path they would ever want to walk down. It’s a lot of weight to carry for at best around $100K…( Hey you could drive a truck on a mine for half a year and make $180K…If that’s what teachers, nurses and police are hearing what makes us think pastors aren’t also ‘considering their options?’)

Interestingly I have also very recently spoken to 3 ex pastors recently who have told me there is no way they’d go back to pastoring and I know plenty of others who feel the same. Maybe that is a trend too. Pastors exiting as soon as is practicable – or financially sustainable – with no intention of returning.

Personally, I have been asked if my days of leading a church are over and my simple, honest response is firstly, ‘I don’t know’ and secondly that is not just my decision. Choices of that magnitude are always a two person decision because whatever I do impacts Danelle. Pastoring isn’t a job you do then go home. It’s a life you lead amongst a community of people – and you can’t do that solo. I can’t imagine how you would lead and live among a group of people apart from your spouse.

And – to be fair most of my experience of pastoring has been positive. There were difficult times in each role I operated in. In the early days some of it was down to my enneagram 8 directness creating tension in relationships, but there was also plenty of conflict resolution( or lack of) that took it’s toll, as well as the emergence of red tape and risk management stuff. It was this bureaucracy that led me to the brink many times. But the joy of leading a community and sharing in the work God was doing was always more compelling than work that wasn’t as directly connected to spiritual formation.

Perhaps it was just the era I grew up in, where if you heard (or thought you heard) the call of God you simply dropped everything and moved towards that calling. There was an element of sacrifice being normal and for ministry to ‘cost’ and frankly I think that is ok.

I do fear the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction now where potential pastors don’t want to take on anything that will potentially put a strain on marriage or family, or would disadvantage them financially. Again, there is some wisdom in that as I mentioned earlier – we never make solo decisions – but I also see that hese issues will happen in any job and… if Jesus calls the answer is always ‘yes’ and we can figure out the details later.

So is that a trend – a disinclination towards working in pastoral leadership both among up and coming potential leaders and a reticence in those who are older to re-enter the fray?

Ok this is purely a PSA for anyone else who happens to back into things and smash their tail-lights!

I smashed the first one two years ago – not badly – just a small piece of the glass missing. I could live with it and barely noticed it. Then a year ago I jack-knifed the caravan and did the other one – a bigger piece missing, but all still functional.

With 75k on the clock I was feeling it is getting close to trade in time, so I figured I’d fix the lights up. I already knew a genuine light assembly was around $1350/side so I wasn’t keen to go that route. To claim insurance was gonna be $700 excess per claim (separate incidents) so I figured I’d hunt until i found some online – which I did at eBay for around $150 each.

So I removed the old ones, installed the new ones and felt like I’d had a real win! $300 instead of $2700. But… then the blind spot radar, cross traffic indicator and rear camera all started flicking up fault codes.

With it due to go in for a service I just figured I’d ask the guys at Ford to check it out and clear them.

So I dropped it in, picked it up and it was still flashing like a Christmas tree – the apprentice doing the $400 oil change on my car didn’t think to attend to the codes… So I had to come back, but with the promise it would be attended to immediately and while I wait.

I dropped the car, took off for an hour and then came back – to see the car still sitting where I’d left it… Hmmm not good… I ‘expressed my disappointment’ at the time wasted and got it looked at straight away.

The verdict was that both rear radar sensors were gone and they would need replacing – but the guys at Ford didn’t want to do the job as they old replace whole assemblies. Really?… And then the radar units were $400 each…

So this is starting to become less of a win and more of a pain in the arse!

With a fairly open day I cruised down to Osborne Park to a mob called Adas who specialise in the recalibration of these units. (Up until now I hadn’t realised they needed recalibration.) They spent a couple of hours on the car but couldn’t get the left radar to function. The conclusion was that it had probably got water in it because of how long I had left it exposed. Oh and the wiring harness also needed replacing due to corrosion. I left there and drove home thru traffic frustrated at a day spent ‘waiting’ and then to no avail.

Today I was to pick up the radar and the harness return to Os Park and let them fit and calibrate. So I picked up the radar ($400 – but then Ford had told me I needed both…) and the harness which I was guessing would be a ridiculous $70 or $80 turned out to be $200… ouch!

I dropped the car back at Adas and took off as they felt they may need it overnight. No worries – what’s another trip to Ossie Park from Yanchep! Turns out they got it fixed the same day, all for the sum of $1137 – which covered scan. fault finding, and a couple of calibrations. It was about twice as much as i was expecting, but to be fair, these guys were brilliant. Fast service, squeezed me in and knew what they were doing. I’d recommend them to anyone – but they aren’t cheap. (Lucrative business opp for someone I am thinking…)

I drove home realising the whole exercise had cost me about $2000… and a couple of days of wasted time.

In hindsight an insurance claim should have been the way to go, but then i wasn’t aware of the need for recalibrations and the dodgy parts.

While the $2k end result wasn’t what I expected a little bit of research, pulled up another owner who had spent $1300 on the light and then needed 3 hours of labour by Ford at their workshop rates to calibrate and fit… Makes your butt cheeks clench just contemplating it!

So if you have backed into your caravan or a lamp-post and damaged your rear tail light my tip is claim it on insurance and do it quickly so the internals don’t corrode, otherwise they may not be covered under the claim.

As you were.