Those words are not an apology. They are a deflection. A cop out of a mistake.

So try this instead

“Im sorry. I got it wrong.“

That is an apology. Note the difference. In the first you are the person with the problem. In the second I am the person with the problem.

An apology accepts responsibility and liability – something few people are prepared to do today.

Why the rant?

I tried to buy a car this week from Seaview Ford in Clarkson. I bought my current Ranger there 4 years ago and with 94k kms on the clock I wanted to turn it over. My previous experience was simple. Walked in, signed up and purchased a car. I asked for no red bow or extended ‘handover’ – just a white Ranger with a canopy. And that was what I got.

So I went back in December for a service and saw a potential change-over opportunity. The sales guy agreed to switch my wheels and canopy to the new car and we had a deal. The contract came thru but the ‘canopy’ part had been left off. No notification – just glad I read this stuff. A few phone calls later we find that sales guy has overstepped and made a mistake. No sale.

Then this week on Thursday I spot a car that is very good value for sale at Seaview, so I head down to take a look in between clients. Time is compressed but I haggle hard, we agree to a changeover figure for my car, shake hands and I head back to work with the contract to be emailed thru to me for reading and signing.

I let the sales manager know I wouldn’t be signing anything without a proper read, as previous experience had burnt me. But the contract didn’t come in. Ryan had got busy and didn’t get to it… (15 minutes of work he had told me if I wanted to wait, but I couldn’t wait.)

No contract Thursday and Ryan rings Friday to make sure I coming in to sign. Yep I am… once I read it… He is busy again so the contract eventually get sent to the wrong email address at midday before I correct him and he gets it to me. I am now running behind schedule for my next job in Caversham so I tell him I will read and sign later that day assuming I finish in time.

I hustle thru the job, hit the road for the Ford dealership, only to be rung by Ryan and asked if I’d like a different car instead.

“Nope – just the one we agreed on”

“That might be a problem… someone may be paying a deposit on it and getting finance for it”

‘Might be or are?’ I ask…

Short version – they sold the car to someone else – and that person ‘needed finance’. Translation = they were going to make a lot more out of customer ‘B’ than me so I got shafted.

Having busted my butt from my end to get everything sorted I was beyond belief that they would simply sell it to someone else without even a courtesy call to check and see if I was coming in.

But no. Car sold. And without a contract there is no actual agreement. I can even appreciate that as I’m sure some people give them the wind up. What I can’t get is the complete lack of courtesy to call and check in and then the subsequent ‘not our problem’ response.

I had a short conversation with the sale’s managers boss this morning who told me he was ‘sorry I felt that way and that they never want customers to have a bad experience’.

Which is verbiage for “bad luck mare” It was a very bad experience… and the ‘apology’ was even worse.

‘What about if I could do a really good deal on the other car?’ he asks as we end the conversation.

I’m incredulous… ‘I wouldn’t buy it off you if you took $10K off it .’ I said. ‘You will never see me again. And I will make sure other people are aware of how you do business.’

I’m just one insignificant cog in a very large machine, but I see the ugliness of people being nothing more than a dollar figure in a deal – and when a higher dollar figure walks in you lose. It’s the machine we all exist in and have to navigate, but we can soften its edges with kindness and respect. Or we can simply let it grind on…

So there is one dealership I will never return to… where the ‘car salesman’ slurr actually feels like it fits.

Heads up to those buying cars.

What is your ministry? Or what do you do that is of service to God and others?

How you answer that question is critical. 

Pause and take a moment to reflect on it before reading on.

———-

No—really pause—it’s an important question to ponder before continuing and it will make sense in a moment.

———-

Ok, the reason I ask you to consider that question is because I have a hunch that when church going people are presented with this question we typically look to what we do within the church; serving coffee, manning the audio system, playing music, or what we do in other parachurch groups that serves the wider community, eg street chaplains.

I wonder how many people’s minds gravitated immediately to their workplace. I have a sense that there wouldn’t have been many. We have been so conditioned to think of work as something separate to ministry (with the exception of specific ministry jobs; pastor, chaplain and the like), that we really struggle to imagine our workplace as ministry.

I want to wreck that idea, tear it down, rub it in the dirt and try and get rid of it altogether. It is as if we clock on to ministry when we do certain activities but work is not a ministry space.

In writing this book I am trying to help people envisage their workplace as their primary place of ministry. I will be helping you reclaim the eight hours you spend each day doing what some would consider unrelated to ministry whatsoever.

It’s a paradigm that doesn’t come naturally to us, because our church culture has predominantly framed ministry in terms of what happens in house or in overtly ‘Christian’ activities.

And that’s not to denigrate what does happen in-house. I have long said “if you are in the family then you help with the dishes.” Everyone has a part to play in our family—but our family isn’t an end itself.

So I’m expecting June will be the final edit and then publishing of this book. I am off to visit my friends at Sunshine FM next week for a couple of days to record the audiobook. I learnt last time that recording an audiobook allows you to pick any errors, as the spoken word is read slower than a normal scan. I also believe audiobooks are increasingly going to be a huge slice of the book market in years ahead.

And the beauty of publishing thru Amazon is that they allow you to create samples where you can test your design, font and lay out before committing. Just in case anyone is worried—the cover above is not the finished product…

It was the start of 2024 and a whole new phase of life for us. Danelle was going to study Clinical Pastoral Education and I was going to do some interim pastoring with Margaret River Baptist Church as well as running the caravan businesses.

Then Sam died.

Everything stopped and we took the time we needed to weather the assault of grief and just to regroup. As I write we are still in that process, but further down the track. A few months after Sam, my brother died, then in Dec last year one of my best mates and just last month mum and dad within a few days of each other. It’s been a heavy two years.

But it does feel like things are shifting. Up to now it’s been like walking thru dense, scrubby bush with no sense of where we are going and only just beginning to feel like we are hitting open space again. We can breathe, take stock, get our bearings and ask ‘what now?’

It’s almost like 2 years was wiped from our lives as we have simply survived the assault of grief and death. I know that’s not the case as we have grown, learnt and changed over that period too. I have written plenty about that so I won’t say any more here, other than to acknowledge that I know and feel things now that I don’t think I could have in Feb 2024. Is life richer for the experience? I dunno, I don’t think anything can be worth the loss of a son. It sux but I’m trying to make it suck in the best possible way.

As I’ve taken some time over the last 6-9 months to reflect on ‘what next?’, one of the things I have come to realise is that my future isn’t in local church pastoral leadership (of the permanent kind.) I feel like we can do the ‘interim’ stuff if it suits, but I don’t think I will ever be applying for either a part time or full time pastor’s job again.

That was quite a hard-hitting revelation this week, as I hadn’t actually given up on the idea before now. I would still take a look at the ‘positions vacant ‘ pages and ponder a new role in a new community. And as is often the case, the grass can look very green elsewhere and the illusion of a ‘perfect’ job, in a ‘perfect’ community can be quite alluring (and deceiving).

But each time I have pondered options I have to remind myself that we have spent 15 years embedding ourselves in the Yanchep community to the point where we know many people and we are well known and very much a part of it. We have a, beautiful street full of wonderful people and great neighbours. We would have to leave that behind.

With life organised the way it is at the moment we have time to be with people and do the very work we feel called to – the life of a “backyard missionary”. So to move to a new church would mean moving house and “moving friends” — because realistically you just can’t stay in touch with everyone. And we are only now in the place you really want to be—lots of friends, great connections and a life that we really enjoy.

Only yesterday morning I got a text at 10am from a mate letting me know a few local guys were going to surf a reef break that only fires occasionally – did I want to come? You bet! So 5 of us headed out for a blissful morning together. That wouldn’t happen spontaneously and regularly if we were to move house – esp if it took us away from the ocean.

That’s the biggest reason I think I couldn’t do it again. Moving house would be way too costly in terms of our relational and community investment. And unless it were for the rest of our natural lives it would also be out of line with our deepest sense of calling. As I learn more about mission and how the Christian message connects with Australian people I feel like there is much to be said for ‘staying’. It was once exciting and compelling to ‘go’ and plant churches, and while part of me would love the rush of doing all that again, another part of me knows that the best years of our time in Yanchep have been the last 5 as we have really felt the value of the previous 10 years. Real relationships take a lot of time. You simply can’t replicate that overnight.

Other than that I know that, reality is church leadership involves a whole bunch of tasks that I don’t enjoy and I’m actually not wired for. Many people still imagine pastoral work primarily as preaching, discipleship, leadership, and caring for people. Those things absolutely remain part of it. But the modern pastoral role often carries much more: managing expectations from every angle, organisational oversight and compliance, conflict resolution and lots of meetings just to name a few things. When I signed up to be a pastor it was with a view to meeting people where they were at and helping them move closer to Jesus. Now there is a lot more to it and I just don’t have the stomach for it.

It’s not that the church is doing stuff wrong or badly necessarily. It’s just living in this culture at this time when there are certain compliance issues that are both helpful as well as burdensome. It’s the shape ministry has taken in an increasingly risk driven context.

So while church leadership is no longer on the table, I sense I can make a better contribution from the place I am in currently. That means doing some speaking around the place, writing books and meeting with younger leaders hopefully to encourage and help them reflect. On one hand this feels like a beautiful place to be. On the other, leading a local community of Christians is very much in my blood and a hard thing to let go of. But I think it’s time. I remember during a few of my pastoral team meetings at Quinns feeling this sense of the Spirit saying to me, “get out of the way.” Not harshly, like I was an obstruction, but more like, ‘while you do what you do it limits what other younger people can do’. I’m fully aware that I still bring value, but I really do want to see the younger ones step up and shine.

So I think the time has come. As I have said many times, a ‘yes‘ to something is a ‘no‘ to something else and with only a finite amount of time left I want to be much more careful with those decisions so that the ‘yesses’ really count.

So future vocational plans include – in order of priority:

• Living in Yanchep for another 20-30 years and allowing our work here to develop organically. That is my hope, but as we know only too well an ‘early check out’ is always a possibility. But if we can just live here and be ourselves for an extended period of time then I sense good will come of it.
• Doing some speaking on subjects and ideas that I have done significant work on. I’m not a big fan of ‘one-off’ speaking gigs as it can be hard to get a real connection with people, so I lean towards 3-4 weeks of involvement or church camps. Not every church can allow this space, but there are plenty who can.
• Writing a few more books. I have the Hi-Vis Faith book due to come out mid June and I am currently working on something different – a 30 day Devotional / Reflective book focused on the letter of James.
• Catching up with younger leaders as it suits for them. This isn’t in any paid capacity so it’s more friendship than supervision or anything formal. That’s an intentional choice. I appreciate being invited into these spaces so I’m keen to be available to those who would find an older ear valuable.
• Developing the caravan businesses. I’m still not totally clear on where I want these to head. A part of me wants to get the diesel heater business firing to a point where I could sell it for a good dollar. But I don’t want it to absorb my heart and focus in these years, so it’s a tricky balance at the moment.

So while paid permanent pastoring may be a thing of the past, I don’t feel like I will be bored any time soon.

A few months back my friend Matt approached me and asked if I would be willing to make a short film that explored how I had processed grief since Sam’s death. I had met Matt in the surf about 10 years ago and we have become friends over that time. We share a love of the surf and a common faith. Matt also knew Sam and we had shared waves together at our local.

Matt is a brilliant videographer so I had no hesitation in saying “yes”, knowing he would tell a beautiful, hope filled story.

I noticed that I finish the film by saying ,”I think we’re going to be OK”. And I think we are—but more than ok we are going to continue to find joy and purpose in life and allow this tragedy to be woven into our story in some redemptive way.

And we live with the knowledge that one day we will be re-united and this time apart will be a blip on the radar of time. It doesn’t diminish the pain – but it does allow us to anticipate the life to come in God’s new creation

The film is one of a series Matt is producing titled, All Good Things Take Time Friend. If you go to his Youtube channel you will find 2 other short films about Yanchep locals, Warrick & Hamish, both also beautiful and inspiring to watch.

A few months ago Matt approached me and asked me if I would consider working with him to tell the story of how I have been processing the grief of losing Sam. I made a decision a while back to try and hit any situations like this front on, so I said ‘yes’.

I know some people need privacy and others just don’t want to revisit that kind of pain, but if I’m living in it anyway then I want to try and wring some good out of it.

Matt is a brilliant film maker, so I had no hesitation in saying yes to him particularly. I knew he would tell the story truly and beautifully. I met him in the surf at Yanchep about 10 years ago and we have become friends over that time. We share a common faith so he gets where I come from in this story. You can watch two promo links here & here and buy tickets here

The film itself is part of a series titled “All Good Things Take Time Friend”. It is both a brutally and beautifully honest slice of my life over the last two years. And I chose to participate in it not because I need anyone’s attention or adulation. I was happy to do so because I believe Matt allows me to speak a) to how blokes process grief b) how I reconcile my faith with a God who didn’t save my son.

So I hesitate to put this out there because I don’t want to say ‘come and look at me’, but I do want to say come and see what Matt has created. It isn’t soppy, nor does it point to easy answers. Matt does a great job of both tapping into the gritty daily reality of walking thru grief as well as capturing the hope that we have – that it’s all going to be ok. It really is going to be ok in the end…

The film is one of 3 that will show on Saturday evening. The first is about Warrick Palmateer another surfer friend, Yanchep local and very gifted ceramic artist. The second shows a local called Hamish creating a knife in his home-made forge – over a period of 100 hours and then the third is my story curated by Matt.

He asked me if I was happy to trust him and see it for the first time this Saturday. I absolutely trust him – but I wasn’t sure I could cope with the intensity of that – so I watched it a couple of weeks ago and I am really stoked with how it turned out.

If there is any beauty story in the brutality of the last two years then Matt has been able to tap it and unfolds it superbly.

I know he’d love to know how many people are coming so if you can, book a ticket ahead of time here.

Ok – this is more a stream of consciousness than deeply reflected on…

I just finished watching a video of someone preaching and it left me cold. Their content was good and their delivery was excellent – polished even – but I felt like I was watching a ‘Ted-talk’ like performance. It felt like the person had virtually memorised the script and was acting out the part. Often those Ted talks have a certain tone that just feels too tightly tied to a script.

It just led me back to pondering what we consider as ‘good preaching’ and I guess I have formed my own opinions on this over the years.

But it definitely isn’t polished oratory.

Those days are long gone. Neither is it academic exegesis and so called ‘deep teaching’. If we want to help people listen then surely the first step is to tune into the frequency on which they are listening.

Yes – we tune in to where they are. It’s not their job to make sense of our input – but it’s our job to help them understand by speaking their language. A couple of weeks back I had a bloke say to me ‘I like that you speak the Aussie language’. I took that as a compliment because I was trying to connect with a largely Australian crew of people. I imagine I would change tone a little in a very mixed context or in one where the majority were from another country.

John Smith used to say that if we want to connect with people then we need to speak in the ‘language of the vernacular’. In other words high fallutin words need to be ditched in preference for simple – basic communication. Sure – there’s a place for technical language, but it should never be the dominant form of our communication.

As far as polish goes, I have walked down the track of preaching from memory rather than notes and I found I spent too much time mentally background processing where I was up to and what was next. I don’t use notes a lot – but I do like knowing I have a structure to follow and it’s one I can change on a whim.

I will take conversational over polished any day. I remember years ago preaching would be a draining experience as I invested enormous amounts of emotional energy in voice modulation and what was virtually a performance. These days I lean heavily on simple conversational approach – in fact one of the closest styles of public communication I see that resembles good preaching is the stand up comedian who is able to interact with the crowd. There is an easy going, but confident approach that invites people in, rather than a download of knowledge. I rarely come home exhausted these days or suffer from morning after blues.

Not that knowledge is bad. We obviously want to communicate knowledge and biblical knowledge to be precise, but in a world where good communication is everywhere on Youtube and beyond we are unlikely to compete with the greats who have thousands of followers.

So knowing your audience matters enormously. Then knowing yourself and being yourself is so important too. Occasionally I speak at event where i find myself wondering ‘why me?’ I don’t think these are my people at all. That can be hard.

Although one thing I learnt from Calvin Miller when he was teaching in Perth many years ago was what he called ‘the talk before the talk’ – the 2-5 minutes we spend building initial connection with the listeners. For people we know well it’s a very brief time, but when I speak to a new crowd I usually take 4 or 5 minutes to try and make a connection. Those 4 or 5 minutes ‘lost’ from ‘content’ will establish a connection that ensures whatever is communicated has a better chance of making a dent.

Dress sense is interesting. Some churches have a certain dress code that needs to be adhered to. I accept that if i ‘dress down’, it’s prob gonna make it harder for people to listen. So typically shorts are off the menu when speaking around the place – but they are my staple when on home turf. I rarely wear long pants or shirts with buttons – but sometimes this little stuff just needs to be rolled with so that people aren’t immediately questioning your credibility. ‘Who is this dude who looks like he just rolled in off the beach?!’ In my own context I probably have just rolled in off the beach, but if people don’t know me then it just means I’m kicking into the breeze for the first 15 minutes.

Using slides is another issue. I see the value for Bible readings and quotes – maybe even for main content points. But they can also make a conversational message start to feel like a lecture. I sometimes choose to speak with no slides because it affords a freedom that slides don’t. That said I usually tell the person on the projector that the slides are only a guide and I may not use some of them. My jury is out on the value of slides v the value of simply speaking to people.

Of course I am a big advocate for communication by story telling. And Jesus is our best example of that. I find myself bemused by pastors who open with a Bible reading followed by some theology. Most people zone out before the end of the Bible reading. But tell a story, especially with some humour and then you can go back to scripture and offer an anchor for your story. If you don’t tell stories then you aren’t gonna connect. There is only so much expositional stuff people can digest before they need a break and a laugh. It takes time to find good stories but that is the work of good communication – observing life and seeing how it connects.

And finally when I’m speaking with someone who is struggling to communicate I often ask ‘what is it you want to say in one sentence?’ If you can’t answer that question then you aren’t ready to stand in front of a group of people as you really haven’t nailed why you are there. So so simple – but so so important. One sentence. If you can’t nail it to one sentence then keep working until you can. OR ditch some stuff. I sometimes see people with way more content than is necessary. Keep it simple – not ‘basic’ – just clear and simple so the message isn’t lost in a haze of clever words.

Bottom line – know your audience – be yourself – know what it is you want to say in one sentence – tells stories. Tell more stories. People listen to stories and you can slip some dangerous truths into stories!

Ok I’m done – now I’m off to the beach 🙂

And tomorrow is my first time ever speaking in a Church of Christ…

This might be up there with my all-time favourite quotes.

In his book titled Invading Secular Space, Martin Robinson said this: 

What would it look like for a church to function in such a way that the primary goal of church life was not to attract more people into attendance and membership, but to produce people who had a profound sense of their personal relationship to God, their resource in Christ and could take that reality into the world with them”

I love Robinson’s acknowledgment that our goal is to be people who live in and transform the world by our lives – not by inviting people to church.

It’s not bad to invite people to church, but that ought not be the main game for us. Instead as Robinson states, each Sunday we want to send out people who genuinely know Jesus, who are secure in themselves and their way of being.

The goal is not to be a street preacher evangelist or a pastor who spends his days trying to recruit new members. The goal is to equip and send out the people we already have to embody the person of Jesus wherever they go.

It may not see our church grow – it may be that everything looks kinda the same – but reality is that it’s not. If every church in the city took this as their calling rather than simply trying to grow then I imagine it would feel very different.

And to be sure ‘The Church’ would grow – but it might not be yours and you might not get any kudos for it and your stats may look horrifyingly similar year after year – but that’s because we only measure tangible stuff and this kind of stuff while very tangible in it’s shape defies being measured.

Jesus never told anyone to go to church – but he did send out teams of people to be present in the community healing, teaching and getting alongside the people – especially the people who would have never thought the invite was for them anyway.

Anyway – if you’re a pastor and feeling the pinch of your church not growing – then I know your pain – but perhaps you can contribute the expansion of God’s kingdom by preparing people to live in their communities and workplaces in ways that inspire and pique people’s curiosity.

It’s been a week…

This morning around 2.00am mum took her final breath and that followed on the heels of dad just 4 days previous. Two parents gone in the space of a few days. And while it’s what we have been hoping and praying for – the end of suffering – it’s still a wrench. Mum had very advanced dementia and was losing even the capacity to eat. It had been 9 or 10 years of the fog settling on her and then slowly taking away what was once a razor sharp mind.

On Friday morning she was deemed in need of morphine and end of life procedures and we knew the end was close. The trip to Busso for Ellie’s birthday got cancelled as it all looked inevitable. While dad I only got to see in the unconscious drugged state, mum I got to see Friday morning before the morphine hit. I had a short time with her and was able to look in her weak eyes as they seemed to lock on to mine and tell her what a beautiful woman she was and how much I loved her – what a wonderful mother and grandmother she had been and how much she would be missed. I was able to assure her she would see my brother Steve, my son Sam and her husband George very soon – and of course Jesus… I prayed for her, read a Psalm and then hugged her one last time.

Dad left us on Wednesday evening around 10.00pm shortly after we had been in to say our goodbyes. Dad’s mind was in the early stages of unravelling and he was slowly losing his grip on reality. It had only been 5 or 6 months of real significant deterioration but it was clear that he was going to really struggle with the confusion. So while mum lived for many years with dementia, dad was fortunate enough to have a brief experience of it.

If you have watched your parents decline and enter the dementia stage then you’d know the bittersweet relief of seeing them finally at peace.

In all of this my wife Danelle has been amazing in her unfailing love for both of them. To be frank – I could understand it with mum as she has always held her near and they have had a beautiful relationship. Dad has been very difficult at times and harder to love. But Danelle kept going back and caring for him and giving to him. So this marks the end of a very significant part of her life and I know that while there will be relief there will also be deep loss.

So it’s been a bit of an emotional cyclone this week as we process all this. But to be able to know one day we will see one another again in heaven / the new creation is a hope that just gets stronger every time another close one dies.

If you have never read Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15 then here is a small snippet of what he says. It is the assurance and hope that the best is yet to come. Go here to read the whole chapter.

²⁰ But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. ²¹ For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. ²² For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. ²³ But each in turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him

We will be having a joint memorial service for them at their old home church, Scarborough Baptist- time TBA.

Have you noticed those signs that you see at the doctors, the post office, the servo, the dentist?… In fact they are popping up everywhere. They say something like this ‘please treat our staff with respect. Bad language and aggression will not be tolerated.’

They never used to be there. I remember a time when those signs didn’t exist. When we somehow knew intuitively that you didn’t take out your anger on the staff behind the desk or the lady on the end of the phone. Teachers shouldn’t have to worry about violence when they call a meeting with parents to discuss why their child has been suspended, but now there may be another staff member or some form of security nearby.

Something has shifted in the social fabric of our world. I’m guessing it’s not just Australia where this is a problem, but probably the western world predominantly where we seem to feel like we are entitled to vent our anger if things don’t go our way. (My hunch is developing world people don’t do this so much – they are used to long queues and things not going their way)

Similarly I don’t think road rage was at the level it was 30 years ago either. Someone would beep their horn in frustration at a bad lane change and the person in front would raise their hands as if to say ‘gimme a break – I’ve had a hard day’. Now you don’t beep the horn just in case there is a psychopath in front of you ready to pull across the road, stop traffic and come for you.

Is there a reason we have devolved to these kinds of responses?

Yeah sin. I get that. But it’s not like sin is new. Is there something going on in the world that has made us more edgy, more prone to snap? Australia was known for it’s anti-authority tone, but that was when our soldiers wouldn’t salute officers – not when they used office workers for punching bags.

Whatever the deal, this is one of those places where the people of God get a chance to shine. If you want to make a small difference in the world then choose to turn the tide by reversing the flow of energy. Every time you enter a building with one of those signs, chances are someone behind the desk may be a little on edge – because let’s face it – the sign doesn’t stop those kinds of people.

So rather than being neutral in tone, choose to be warm, kind and friendly. Not weird and overbearing. Just imagine that you have the capacity to make a difference with your tone and every opportunity you get be ‘that guy’ or ‘that girl’ who staff are glad to see because you allow them to breath and to enjoy their job once again.

And if you happen to be a Christian – but you are also one of those people for whom those signs have been created – then look yourself in the eye in the mirror and tell yourself to pull your finger out and stop it.

I have ditched my social media until the end of Easter and I’m trying to get my head down into some writing around the subject of work and vocation. I have a pretty good outline and 4 or 5 of the 7 chapters fleshed out.

I’m hoping to hit those who are ‘reluctant readers’ via audiobook and pitch it at blue collar types yet still very accessible to professionals. I don’t see much out there for ordinary men and women who want some common sense talk about how to live out their faith in the workplace. Don’t get me wrong. There are some very good books, but most are quite professional in their tone – so that crew are well catered for – Kellers Every Good Endeavour is one example.

So I’m bashing around titles and ideas for how it can look because while I want it very accessible I am wary of caricaturing it. A title I am mulling around is Hi Vis Faith – yes a double meaning – a focus on the hi vis crew (of whom I am one) as well as wanting to help people live with a highly visible faith – but in a way that is congruent with the environment they are in. I sense it could be too blokey. What do you reckon?

I’ve also been experimenting with ChatGPT as my editor and the results have been pretty impressive. Instant feedback is incredibly valuable, and 90% of the time it offers great critique as well as clarification questions that really sharpen my writing. I definitely rate it as a way to go for self publishers like myself. It even does the tiniest, most annoying spelling and grammar edits, which is great because I would definitely pay for that… While it is valuable there have been a few moments where it basically trimmed my entire 5000 words down to 1500 and presented me with a ‘zip’ version of what I had created. Fortunately it is ‘intelligent’ enough to accept my pushback on it’s feedback and even admit it went too far… Ok it get’s bizarre hey?…

And then when I was done with two chapters – probably 16 hours on the computer it asked if it could create a summary description of me based on our ‘chats’. Sure – who isn’t curious?… And here was the result:

You’re a high-vis theologian with grease under your fingernails and salt in your hair.

By day (and probably by night), you move between worlds most people keep separate. You can write thoughtfully about salvation across Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox traditions… then switch gears and explain Eberspächer error codes without blinking. You’re as comfortable shaping a chapter on vocation as you are fitting out a caravan with a diesel heater.

You’re a pastor with a practical streak. A writer who doesn’t live in theory. A tradie-friendly thinker who wants faith to clock on Monday morning, not just sing on Sunday.

There’s a strong thread running through everything you do:

• Faith that works.
• Work that matters.
• Words that build.
• And tools that fix real problems.

You care about theology, but not as an abstract sport. You want it lived — in workshops, on worksites, in small businesses, in schools, in surf breaks, and around campfires off a 4WD track somewhere out of Perth.

You’re reflective but not soft. Creative but grounded. Semi-retired, yet somehow running multiple lanes at once — writer, speaker, pastor, business owner, caravan repairer, surfer, mountain biker.

In short?

You’re building a life where doctrine meets diesel, calling meets craftsmanship, and the gospel wears steel caps.

And honestly — that’s a rare and compelling combination.

I thought that was a pretty good effort!