At home later that day – I was hurting really badly. Not just from the cuts but muscles that had not been used in that manner before were starting to complain. Not to mention parts of me that I fell on were now nicely bruising and as a result hurting a tad.

Yet as I looked from my home I could see the peak of Mount Flinders and I knew that I had been at the top that day.

Stories of others who turned back had been told to me but I had made it.

However I knew there was only one reason and one reason alone I had made it. Two mates had been there for me. We were a team. The team had made it. They believed in me, supported me, encouraged me and cared enough to slow down their assent and descent so we could all make the climb up and back.

Had I been alone I would have turned back.

Had I been with strangers they may have left me.

But not Daniel and Kim – the two strong supported the weak.

Life must be done this way. When due to the falls in life sometimes it is good to have great friends to encourage you but also a good team that carried you when you can’t make it alone for a season.

A team that is prepared to go back for you, slow down for you, understand your situation, feel your pain, know your heart and be committed to you anyway even if it means a sacrifice for them.

A team of friends

A team of family

I reached the top of Mount Flinders that day but I learnt a lot about myself, two great friends and a little about life’s journey as well.

Yep – when I look at the peak I remember a good day!

The climb to Flinders Peak was not going well – thanks to me. Both the guys were now beside me but I was obviously dazed and a bit frightened by what had happened to be honest.

Then I heard it – Daniel said something to me that for some reason gave me such strength. ‘Mate, if we have to go back down – that’s fine – everything is OK – now let’s have a look at you.’ Daniel is very experienced in the area of fire and rescue so I felt safe. Yet it was the fact that both of these great guys were willing to go back down after only 15 minutes of climbing. That made the difference – I felt somehow safe and very secure with them. I knew they cared for me – would help me no matter what! I knew that before the accident but somehow at that moment a bond formed between us that I can’t explain but I knew that if I was OK I was going to continue to the top.

Daniel patched me up – the boys got me to my feet and at that moment I knew I wanted to go on.

With one of them in front of me and the other behind me we started out again. My confidence gone but each time I wavered they were there.

Encouraging me – helping me – supporting me – we made our way upward. There were parts that were scary – a couple of cliff faces where the drop was sheer to the bottom of the mountain it seemed but again the boys guided me.

Then I saw it – the top of the Mount Flinders!

We were there – parts of my body were just not working and some other parts just plain hurt far too much but we were there – the view magnificent.

Yet more importantly we did it together – the three of us – at the pace of the slowest namely me.

Refreshments taken, we started down – finally the car park at the bottom of the climb came into view we had made it. I didn’t tell the boys how much my leg was hurting but as Daniel started to clean it up and I yelled in pain I think they got the picture.

Tomorrow lessons learnt from Mount Flinders!

My good mate Daniel had an idea – ‘Mate, I’m climbing Mt Flinders tomorrow – want to come?’ Flinders Peak is 800 meters high and perhaps I should have read what one climbing website said of it – ‘Class 5 track (Australian Standards)?No signs or markers are provided, except where necessary to minimize environmental damage. ?Trails may range from clearly visible footpads to indistinct, overgrown routes depending on usage levels. ?Muddy section, steep grades and numerous hazards such as fallen trees and rock falls highly likely to be encountered. ?Caution required — no safety fences, bridges or other structures provided. ?Highly developed navigational skills and relevant topographic maps essential. ?High fitness level and extensive off-track walking experience and ankle-supporting footwear essential.’

Oops – now you tell me!

However I said ‘Yes – sure I’m in!’

Now at this point I realize that my brain that answered, thought it was 20 years of age – it should have been my 51 year old body that answered. It would have had more common sense.

So the next day I set off with Daniel and Kim – two friends and brilliant blokes.

It is about a two-hour climb up and then the same distance back down.

At about the 15 minute mark my body showed that it’s cat like reflexes were long gone and were now a figment of my imagination. My foot slipped – I reached out for some support but alas too late! I lost my footing on the rocky slope and I fell and cart wheeled once back down the hill onto sharp rocks.

As the boys raced to pick me the right way up and to check if I was OK my first thoughts turned to a helicopter rescue scenario and a front page newspaper story with my picture on it.

I was winded, couldn’t feel my leg, sick in the stomach due to the shock of the fall and blood over my legs due to the cuts from the rocks.

‘Houston, we have a problem!’

Expect part 2 of the story tomorrow!

For those of you that laughed and cried tears of sympathy when you read about the great witches hat debacle during my race debut I thought I would give you an update on the most watched injury in history.

After x-rays, MRI scans and various Specialist and Physiotherapy appointments the diagnosis is in. I have torn the main tendon in my ankle and bruised a couple of the bones down there just for good measure. It seems that running for 9.5 kilometres after the initial impact perhaps didn’t help things. Hindsight is a wonderful gift for doctors to have on your behalf.

Since the injury I haven’t run at all – both Specialist and Physiotherapist said to me that the injury is indeed very rare and unique AND they still can’t understand how I managed to injure myself so badly. They are calling my injury the ‘Witches Hat Syndrome’ – albeit when they stopped laughing out loud.

My sense of frustration has been high to say the least – not helped by, again, both Specialist and Physiotherapist indicating to me that this injury takes time to heal ‘for a person of my age’. Oh please – let’s just rub it in! You know that it is a long time when every staff member of the Physiotherapist practice knows you by name and asks how the injury is.

At my last visit to my physio – something happened which changed my attitude completely. There had been a suggestion that surgery may be needed and to be honest that may still happen but my physio said something to me that really changed things. I have known my physio for longer than 20 years and really trust him and I think he saw a tad of frustration rising in me.

He said that his aim is to get me 100% well not 90% well because if I run again at 90% – the injury will return and that’s what often happens because most people are just too impatient.

I suspect that most of us think 90% is OK in anything!

At that moment I thought – how many times do I attempt things in life when I am only 90% well? Then when things go wrong I blame everyone else or circumstances when really it was my fault for attempting something at 90% capacity?

Perhaps in the future I should be patient and let the final 10 % heal so I can operate at a full 100%. So no running for me yet – the final 10% is taking some time BUT it will be worth it when I can run at 100%.

I can still remember the moment as I and millions of people held their breath as one nameless, faceless man stood before a column of 18 tanks in Tiananmen Square China on June 5, 1989 some 22 years ago almost to the day of this blog appearing.

Almost nobody knew his name at least nobody outside his immediate friends and to this day despite numerous attempts to identity him nobody knows who he was or what happened to him even one hour after what he did appeared in the world’s living rooms.

Yet for those of us who saw it on the TV news it was spellbinding.  A small, unexceptional figure in long pants and white shirt, carrying what looks to be his shopping, puts himself before an approaching tank, with a line of 17 more tanks behind it. The tank swerves right; he, to block it, moves left. The tank swerves left; he moves right. Then this anonymous bystander clambers up onto the vehicle of war and says something to its driver.

He jumps off and is gathered by his friends never to be seen or heard from again.

Recently I watched the TV footage again and realized that history is littered by single individuals who, prepared to give their all, made an astonishing difference. This man known only as ‘the tank man’ made a difference – he draw attention to China and what was happening there. No media outlet did as much nor any politician, activist or diplomat – he did it. Our Prime Minister at the time, Bob Hawke, cried but the tank man made a difference.

I doubt if any of us will stand before a row of tanks yet I was prompted to think once again of making a difference. It all sounds so humdrum – heard it all before – ‘yeah making a difference’ yet my heart was stirred to think again about it.

I have discovered that making a difference is usually spontaneous, sudden, comes upon us in a flash, instantaneous and happens so quickly. I am sure the tank man didn’t plan for days his appearance before the tanks. If asked I wonder if he would say – ‘it just happened!’

The opportunities to make a difference are always before us – the door opens just a little and the moment is there to be seized. Its up to you but as for me I am looking for my tank man moment – albeit without the tanks.

Last weekend we as a church hosted Nancy Beach from Willow Creek Community Church Chicago USA. Nancy spoke at our weekend services. Yet that one sentence does not in any way do justice to the impact of Nancy Beach upon the church here in Ipswich.

I have often thought that as a speaker we actually are the message to some extent. One cannot speak with any degree of integrity on something that is not consistent with who we are. Nancy Beach spoke to us from the heart. Her grace and humility shone through in what she said and how she said it. I was able to spend time with her over the weekend – Nancy Beach is indeed the real deal – ‘fair dinkum’ as we Aussies would say.

Genuinely interested in you – she took the time to listen and respond with thoughtfulness and wisdom.

For me there were many highlights over the weekend but perhaps a memorable moment was when Nancy addressed the Pastors and Leaders of the local Australian Christian Churches district of which I am part and in fact lead.

She spoke on weekend church services and towards the end encouraged us as pastors and leaders to create transcending moments. Nancy then showed us on DVD one of the moments that she had experienced when she spoke in Chicago.

The theme was forgiveness – there was a beautiful song during which there was a very moving scene from the service being shown on DVD for us to see. Nancy told us how this moment had been part of a series of events which saw a family in the church restored, how a couple’s life was brought back together.

There was silence – no one moved – tears flowed – God smiled as a faithful servant being lead by the Holy Spirit allowed God to work through her. It was at that moment that I realized what had happened. This was a transcending moment – Nancy had practically demonstrated what a transcending moment actually looks like – a moment where all of us in that room were brought to a point of thinking about how a weekend service has the potential through these moments to transform lives.

It was in this moment that I thought about something else. How many times because of the busyness of life, the pace I do life at and the constant demands upon me do I miss those wonderful moments? Times when I stop, listen, respond and act. As a result I am transformed in some area of my life or someone else is changed.

Nancy Beach taught me a life lesson that morning – I hope that I don’t forget it!

It was a suggestion, that upon thinking about it, I remain convinced was physically impossible and slightly dangerous to my health. Well, that’s the tail end of the story – what happened that caused someone to make such a suggestion to a nice bloke like me?

My family believe that I am extremely navigationally challenged whilst driving – something I strenuously deny and I don’t think this flaw on my part caused the incident. I was executing a U-Turn and apparently the lady in the car behind me didn’t think I should have been doing so. So down came her car window and a torrent of abuse was hurled my way. Her delay, even if I was doing the wrong thing, was no more than 20 seconds. Yet her reaction was unbelievable.

This morning on the radio two politicians on opposite sides of the political fence hurled personal abuse at each other until I changed stations sickened by what I was hearing.

Now believe me I am no gilded lily – yet is it me or is there an increase in people treating each other badly? What used to be a shrug of the shoulders for somebody attempting a U-Turn even in the wrong place is now reason for a torrent of abuse. Can a debate between politicians be held without resorting to personal attacks?

Jim Wallis from Sojourners is so concerned at the level of abuse between political leaders that he proposed a charter for civility. Have we really got to this?

Without leadership from the majority of those in political office on this issue – let a revolution of niceness rise up from the grass roots – that’s you and me.

Instead of abuse be civil, replace insults with politeness, substitute reaction with courtesy, exchange rudeness with encouragement or just turn the other cheek.

I have always discovered that more is accomplished through kindness than abuse and rudeness. So let’s all give niceness a go – who knows it may catch on!

Recently, I was standing in line at my local supermarket waiting to pay for my items.  I was looking at all the glossy magazines, noticing they are right next to all the chocolate bars.  I started thinking it’s no wonder people are confused about what to eat and how to live healthy, as they are enticed to reach for a magazine and a chocolate bar on the way out of their local store.

Glossy magazines are plastered with slogans promising you the world when it comes to dieting, “guaranteed, take ten kilos off – tomorrow!” or “celebrity diet secrets” and then of course always something about Oprah and her latest dieting triumph or failure.  The latest fad diet will have a focus and the magazine will contain adverts for exercise equipment, diet pills and the latest scientific breakthrough diet food.

Magazines put out a lot of health information.  Literally thousands of articles are published yearly by magazines.  They are the literal juggernaut of the diet industry, an industry that is worth over ten billion dollars worldwide.  The problem is so much of the information published conflicts and has agenda’s on selling products for their advertisers.

Do we stop to realize there would be little need for a diet industry if people were healthy and made better food choices?  Surely, if the information presented in the magazines was good, by the sheer number of magazine readers, the epidemic of obesity would be solved?  Or at least we should experience a scaling back from epidemic to “high incidence rate” of obesity.  Sadly the opposite is true we have an epidemic and with it comes a whole host of lifestyle diseases that are robbing people of a healthful and happy life.  People are just plain confused about how to make healthy choices.

Conflicting opinions and the latest diet or exercise fad aside, there is just no ignoring the fact that we’ve got to get back to basics.  Stop listening to misinformation and just keep it really simple:

1.  Eat a diet where the bulk of your food is fresh vegetables and fruits

2.  Avoid unnecessary and unsafe chemicals: pesticides, artificial sweeteners and flavors

3.  Eliminating, or at least minimizing processed foods

4.  Ensuring your proteins are from good sources**

5.  Using whole grains-avoid white rice, white breads, pastas, cookies etc

6.  Keep as snacks things like yogurts, raw nuts and seeds, fruit

7.  Eat a good portion of your food raw-uncooked

8.  Drink a lot of water

9.  Simply eat less-smaller portions

10.  Make an effort to get active and stay active for all of your life

**healthy animals in their natural environment, fed their natural diet, e.g. A cow, freely roaming all day eating grass and not treated with hormones or antibiotics.

Julia Ward Howe lived in an era when a nation was tearing itself apart in civil war. She was a poet and writer – perhaps most well known for her penning of the great hymn ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic’. However she was also a ferocious advocate for other causes – including the equal rights of woman.

Yet something that struck me about this passionate woman was her advocacy for peace. She personally witnessed the worst effects of the war when she volunteered with her husband in the hospitals that treated wounded soldiers. The death and disease, which killed and maimed soldiers, would have a lasting effect upon her.

She helped widows and orphans of soldiers on both sides of the war, and realized that the effects of the war go beyond the killing of soldiers in battle. A deep thinker Julia Howe also saw the economic devastation of the Civil War, the economic crises that followed the war, the restructuring of the economies of both North and South and realized that there must be an alternative to war.

Her passion and desire was for women to come together across national lines and to lead efforts to find peaceful resolutions to conflicts. Her proposal was to adopt an international ‘Mother’s Day of Peace’. This is fact was one of the early forerunners to our current Mother’s Day.

In 1870 Julia Howe wrote a declaration for peace which when read even today stirs one’s soul with the zeal of her words. I thought the declaration would interest those with a heart for peaceful resolutions to the world’s problems.

“Arise, then, women of this day! Arise all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be of water or of tears! Say firmly, We will not have questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us reeking of carnage for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy, and patience. We women of one country will be too tender to those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.

From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own. It says ‘Disarm! Disarm!’ The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonour, nor violence indicate possession.

As men have forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his time the sacred impress not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.”

Have a wonderful Mother’s Day this Sunday!

Getting up before dark usually tests the mettle of our family – quite a few of them have no appreciation for the early hours of morning preferring to go to bed late and get up late. Yet there is one day each year that all our family gets up before dawn and seems to not complain. The occasion is ANZAC day and for years now my family has a tradition of attending the dawn service at the RAAF base Amberley.

This year was no different – there is something about gathering as the sun rises, hearing the Gallipoli story of 25^th April 1915, listening to the ode and Last Post and seeing the laying of the wreaths to honour and remember the 100000 service men and women who have died for our country in wars and conflicts around the world. This year the crowd was estimated at about 3000 people – the biggest one yet for this particular ANZAC Day dawn service.

Yet something happened at this years service that caused others and myself who witnessed what happened to shed a tear.

Towards the end of the service the RAAF padre asked if there were anyone else who would like to come forward and lay a wreath or flowers at the memorial wall. Already the official guests had been forward – a truly moving occasion witnessed by all.

And then it happened. Out of the crowd came a lady and two young boys – obviously a mum and her two sons. The boys were aged between eight and twelve I suspect. She held the hand of the youngest boy and in the other hand she held a wreath of flowers. Gently she placed the wreath at the wall – spoke to the boys softly gathered them in her arms and hugged them. Then for a moment she just stood there – arms tightly around her sons. Again she whispered something to the boys, hugged them again then with heads bowed they made their way back into the crowd. The mother’s arms still wrapped around them.

I looked around at those standing with me and people were so moved – tears flowed freely. SBS one of our National TV broadcasters have a promotional theme – “Six billion stories and counting …” The meaning is clear – everyone on planet earth has a story. This woman had a story – what was behind such a moving tribute? Perhaps a lost husband, father or relative – who knows?

All I know is that I was moved to tears by the simple yet profound actions of a mother and her sons. One of those six billion stories – one action that made ANZAC Day 2010 special and memorable for me and all who witnessed what happened. Everyone indeed has a story and I had just witnessed part of just one of those six billion stories in action!