One of my children broke my heart yesterday.

The conversation (after quite a rough afternoon) went like this:

“I wish I wasn’t a person…. I wish I wasn’t <insert name here>”

Oh how my heart hurt for this child.  To be even thinking things like this at such a tender age.  That I could but protect you from all of life’s hardships.

I did not have words to speak, and so held my tongue.

Later, but not much later, we were talking again… following on…

“I wish that I wasn’t naughty.”

Oh Father, thank you for taking my heart, hurting for my child, and sending it soaring.

That my child can see their brokeness, and I can show them your way for mending.

Thank you, thank you Father.

Sorry Nan!

Think you’ll have to cancel that booking at the Hyatt!


hyatt2 hyatt3

Bakers’ Hill is at the top of Brett’s to do list when we go to the farm. Mmmmm, meat pies.


It is quit possible, as evidenced by these photos, that our children still have a way to go in the art of eating a meat pie.


Photos from 16/07/2011