I arrived home on Friday afternoon on the final day of my Restricted Electrical License course and Sam asked me ‘So what did you learn today Dad?’

‘Kindness’ I said.

It wasn’t in the course outline. I doubt it is likely to be assessed but it was what I learnt. I actually drove home humbled, inspired and disturbed. As I tried to explain my day to Danelle I found myself overcome with emotion. It was a powerful day and one that left a significant impression.

But to make sense of Friday I need to go back to Monday when the course began and 5 of us lobbed into the classroom. It was a pretty quiet room. I managed to get some conversation going with the techy, service guy from Five Senses Coffee, but other than that no one was talking. The guy next to me called Dave didn’t look up and didn’t seem to want to engage with anyone.

Day one rolled by very quietly – almost morgue like in the class – awkwardly so – but on day two I needed to talk with Dave to do a project together. We had become ‘partners’ for the week. I had hoped I’d be able to team up with someone else who seemed a bit more energetic, but I got Dave…

As I spoke with him I discovered he had driven down from Karratha and was sleeping in his car to save money. The lost income, cost of the course and the travel already came to about $5K so he was doing it rough. He was mid 50’s, single, living in a caravan… He had never been married and was I was guessing a little odd…

I had a fleeting thought that I should invite him home and give him our spare room for the week, but I dismissed it fairly quickly, because we have two kids and Dave would be sleeping right next to them. And he could be a paedophile… right?… Best to play it safe. I didn’t know the guy and he could be a danger to Danelle and the kids.

Safety first. That’s wise… right?…

So he slept in his car that night out the back of Wanneroo somewhere and it poured with rain. Apparently it wasn’t a very pleasant night as his tarp leaked and he had to curl up in the passenger seat.

Wednesday was the wettest day of the week and as we talked that day he told me he was seeking a hotel, but they all seemed to be fully booked. I thought again about inviting him home, because the kids were with their grandparents for the evening, but instead told him about the Indian Ocean hotel in Scarborough. They should be easy to get into. He could have come back to our place, but I was tired. I wanted a quiet night and I wasn’t convinced having a stranger in the house would give me that.

It wasn’t convenient for me that evening. So Dave ended up driving across town to Midland where he got a spot in a caravan park, because the Indian Ocean and everything else nearby was fully booked.

I had those disturbing scriptures flash thru my mind… stuff about sheep and goats… hungry, thirsty, homeless… and whatever you did to the least of these you did to me.

It did’t dawn on me then then that Jesus was in my course that week, but I did know I wasn’t sitting well with my decision not to invite Dave home.

I was completely conscious that safety and convenience had guided my choice. I could easily have helped the bloke out, but it wasn’t as easy as I would have liked it to be – and I needed my space too… That’s fair. Right?…

When class started on Thursday it was full tilt into practical projects. Testing, wiring, circuits and motors. I am not a natural with this stuff and I felt very much at sea. As Dave and I paired up to do the tests I found myself relying on him to help me. As a fridge mechanic he knew stuff from 20 years of experience that I didn’t and he was fairly natural at it all.

As the projects became more complex I found myself further and further out of my depth. And each time Dave came to my aid. He was a very quietly spoken bloke, even seemed to lack a bit of confidence, but he was patient and always willing to explain to me what I was doing wrong.

The lecturers pretty much left us to our own devices so it hadn’t been for him I would have learnt very little on the practical front.

On the final day we had two significant tasks to complete. When we had done them we could go home – early. Everyone wanted to go home early. It had been a long long week. Task one was to be done in pairs. Dave finished up with me again… I felt like apologising that he had drawn the short straw… It was a fairly complicated task and a synthesis of all we had done over the week. It was more than my brain could hold together.

This time I was very aware of him teaching me as we were doing it. Previously we had done stuff together and I had served as the gopher, but now he was slowing for me and helping me ‘get it’. He knew I wasn’t in the game.

With that completed we went to lunch and then returned with the task of wiring up 3 motors from a circuit diagram after which we could go home. Embarrassingly I found myself struggling yet again. Faulty test equipment didn’t help, but I was finding it hard to follow the diagram and know what to do. After 20 minutes Dave had finished his first one and I was still at step 1. I was despairing.

Dave saw my frustration, stopped what he was doing and came over to help me. He walked me right through the first motor and answered my questions as we went. I learnt how to do it. I began to feel confident and then managed the second with minimal help and the third on my own.

Dave and I were the last ones to leave the workshop – me because I was slow and him also because I was slow – and because he chose to stay there and help me.

As I was walking back to class to finish up I realised I had been blessed by someone who chose to show kindness and compassion when it probably wasn’t easy or convenient. He had taken his time with me and gone out of his way to make sure I understood.

I realised Dave had shown me what Jesus is like… Dave gave me a lesson in electrics, but more than that he gave me a lesson in living like Christ.

As I drove home to write a sermon on mission and reaching out to others – the last in a 5 month series I clearly sensed God saying to me ‘you met Jesus this week’. The first time you met him, you let him sleep in in the cold when you had a room. The second time you met him he gave you a lesson in how to love and show kindness.

Still so much to learn.

I reckon that’s how long it takes me to get itchy feet and a need for change. Some people seem to be able to stay in a job for 20 or 30 years but I’m not that person.

When you’re 47 you have enough life in which to observe patterns and this seems to be my ‘transition point’. No matter what it is I’m doing, after 5 years I seem to be scratching my head and wondering if there is something out there that is more meaningful, more stimulating, more purposeful…

Mid-life crisis aside I think I am just about there with retic and turf. Maybe its been the heat of the last 3 weeks that has smashed me a bit, but equally I’m feeling a bit over it all.

It seems the ‘5 years’ has several discrete stages:

1. A new adventure – where I discover a new skill, ability or focus and I get my teeth into it. This is often an exhilarating time as I am usually out of my depth and just surviving. I like the steep learning curve but you can’t live here!

2. I can do this – In this stage I have got the basics happening well and I’m enjoying being able to do something new.

3. I can do this well – By now competence is high and some of the job is virtually automatic. Its a time to focus on doing things better. Improving systems and getting a better result for the same effort.

4. I am not enjoying this as much and losing interest – In all the roles I have had (and there has been a heck of a lot of variety) there seems to come a point when I lose interest. It happens slowly and shows up in poor work, or a lack of effort maybe because I feel I am competent and can cruise. Of course that only re-inforces the feeling of needing a change.

5. I’ll give this one more year… – If i learnt anything from the past its that this phase needs to be cut as short as possible. Usually a year is enough to finish up actually hating whatever it is that I have been doing and hoping I never need to do it again. So once I observe myself in ‘disinterest’ phase its time to flag it and look to shift into a new space.

I’ve never had to do a job I have hated simply to pay the bills and I hope I never have to. However I know that’s where many people live and have no choice.

So I’m currently observing that with retic I’m in a ‘stage 4 mindset’. I’m struggling to stay interested and motivated and on the lookout for new opportunities. It makes me chuckle a bit because it was only 6 months ago that I was loving it, feeling inspired and wondering about what the future may hold for it. I considered expanding and ramping things up, but realised that wasn’t where I wanted to invest my life. Maybe that choice – to ‘maintain’ – has been the catalyst for my discontent.

These days I find myself limiting my work, and my work areas, giving heaps of work away because I don’t want it and living with an ear to the ground for any new adventures or business opportunities.

The big challenge in any change would be relinquishing my autonomy and taking a drop in income as that would be inevitable, but I’m even at a point where I’d be willing to drop a decent slab of income to feel inspired again and get back on the learning curve.

The flip side is that I wonder if there is something I need to learn in moving thru the boredom phase. Maybe nothing else will present itself and I will just have to figure out how to be content in this space.

Anyone else observe any similar patterns in their lives?

Recently I wrote a post that captures some of what I have been feeling about life at the moment.

It’s ok…

It’s not particularly tough and it’s not particularly inspiring. I feel like I’m lacking some passion and drive, but I can’t just conjure it up out of nowhere. I’ve been asking God about it because for nearly all my life I’ve lived with a really strong sense of purpose and a clear identity. This is not a place I like and feel at ease in. In fact at times I feel like I must be losing my way to be lacking in goals beyond the immediate.

It has felt very much like a time of plodding – just trudging on – occasionally with joy but mostly with resolve and sometimes indifference. It’s hard to feel like a legitimate Christian leader when you live with periods of indifference, or when you struggle to feel inspired. I’ve been schooled that my job is to inspire others and to not let my struggles be visible. Paul can make struggle and weakness sound very noble, and we often hear people speak of ‘strength in weakness’, but (and maybe it’s just me) I am not sure if I have permission to live here. It feels wrong… and yet it simply is where I am at right now.

I don’t feel depressed or miserable. Just weary and a bit flat – but with nowhere to go but forwards.

As a church community we have been reading Exodus these last few weeks and I have been reading it now for a couple of months, reflecting on it’s themes and asking God what he wants us to hear as a community.

What I have been struck by again is just how difficult Moses experience of leadership was at this time. I’m not referring to the amount of opposition he faced, although that would have been wearying, but more to time spent apparently going nowhere and accomplishing little. His life was certainly largely uneventful (with the exception of a red sea crossing etc) But seriously, most of Moses journey in the desert with the Hebrew people could be described as monotonous and repetitive. But it was what God called him to do so he kept going.

I could imagine Moses complaining to God about the life he had been called into. From a safe cruisy life as a shepherd in Midian to leading a bunch of people who don’t seem to be going anywhere fast. A life that has little by way of achievement and satisfaction.

I can imagine God responding with ‘oh well…’kind of a divine ‘whatever…’ I don’t think God sees things as we do and he is not overly concerned if we get bored or fidgety. He just asks us to be faithful and to do what he asks.

On that front I feel like I’m doing ok. I’m getting used to living in a different space and I’m accepting that perhaps this is actually an intentional experience rather than just a rut.

I was talking to some friends the other day and happened to say ‘I don’t know whether I am dying or growing!’ As the words came out of my mouth I knew the answer and my friend verbalised it… ‘ maybe both?…’

I feel like I’ve told God some of my frustration with the place I am at in life and he has said ‘oh well…’ He hasn’t given me any great revelations as to what lies ahead. He just seems to be asking me to keep going.

The other day I bought Petersen’s ‘A Long Obedience in the Same Direction’ almost purely on the basis of the title and how I have been feeling. I held great hope that it would offer some really useful insights… But you know what?… I am finding it hard going. I seem to remember trying to read it about 20 years ago when it first came out and feeling similar. It was his premise (from Nietzsche) that piqued my interest – “The essential thing ‘in heaven and earth’ is. . . that there should be a long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living.”

Somewhat ironically reading the book feels like a ‘long obedience’ at the moment ( and I say that as a Petersen fan!)

Anyway, the last time I wrote about this it was with some level of anxiety and frustration. Today I write with a curious sense of peace – and I use ‘peace’ rather than resignation because I think I am sensing something of the divine in my current place. Not that I would personally choose to stay here, or for this to be my experience for a very long time (not that I have much of a choice), but I feel like maybe I have stuff to learn about steadiness and the absence of sparks and fireworks. I feel like maybe I have been led to this place and if I can stop resisting it or seeing it as a waste then maybe there will be some rich learning.

Sure hope so.

As we move house I lose my ‘hamo@brightontown.com.au’ email address and I guess like many people I am tired of changing email addresses. I’d like a ‘home’ so to speak when it comes to email.

My other emails are ‘backyardmissionary@gmail.com’ and the same at hotmail (where all my spam and crap goes) and then brightonreticulation@gmail.com.

I feel like the ‘backyardmissionary’ email is definitely me, but it can be an odd one to give to people, apart from being quite long. I’d like to keep my business email purely for business so I don’t think its an option. I also doubt I will be doing reticulation and turf for the rest of my life.

I have been exploring some other options (a ‘family’ domain name ‘hamiltons.com’ or similar) or a different kind of gmail. Of course andrewhamilton@gmail is long gone and then it becomes a case of being andrewhamilton9765… no thanks. www.andrewhamilton.org.au is available as is www.hamiltons.org.au, but I’m not sure they ‘feel’ quite right.

Yeah I’m a fussy bugger.

Right now I’m thinking ‘backyardmissionary@gmail’ might be me… unless I can be a little more creative.

Either way, if you email me on the hamo@brightontown address then you will find it bouncing in July as we will no longer have that account.

As I sit here tonight its cold outside. Its windy and wet and it doesn’t feel like Perth. Perth is hot, dry and it doesn’t rain here… I think we all felt like that over summer and we’re probably all glad for the rain and the cooler weather. Its been a long time coming.

I’m not sure if its the weather or just the male version of PMT but today I feel unusually demotivated and irrititable. My mind keeps seeing a long open road somewhere in the northwest with a camper parked beside it and no responsibility anywhere close. No sermon to write, no retic to fix, no wondering if work is going to pick up or dry up, no wondering if I’m going to get another dodgy email from someone who wants to vent their spleen…

Some days I feel very weary, not just physically – although there is definitely that – but emotionally and spiritually.

The last few months I have noticed it moreso – the need to sometimes drag myself out of bed when usually I can be up and at it. The mind wandering to new ideas – new challenges. I see new business possibilities nearly every day, but I’m not sure I have the emotional energy to actually invest in them let alone the $$. I am conscious of the weariness and the need to address it.

Some days I really enjoy being a Christian pastor and other days I really want to give it all up. After 20 years of leading churches in one form or other I think I would like to know what its like not to carry the responsibility of leading a Christian community. I don’t think I have permission from my boss to do that yet, (my boss’s name is not Danelle by the way) but I’m curious as to what it would look like for the Hamiltons to not have the ‘pastor’ tag (which doesn’t fit very well anyway…) attached to them. I think Danelle and I both wonder what life would be like in that space – who we would be – how people would see us… We actually lead a fabulous bunch of people so I’m not weary of them – more just the ongoing constancy of the responsibility and the need to lead. I’m sure some of you know the feeling.

I don’t think I am enjoying ‘middle age’ much at the moment. As a person used to being focussed and moving from project to project I seem to have hit a steady patch – a period where the main task is to keep going. My problem is that I tend to equate ‘keeping going’ with losing a sense of adventure. I see it as ‘settling’ rather than stirring, but I’m reluctant to arc up something new unless I know its something more than a way of sating boredom. It’ll just require more energy.

I can’t say I hear God in this space much at all. I do meditate, pray, study etc, not particularly well, but I do them so I’m trying to put myself in a space where the ‘still small voice’, or the loud booming voice can be heard. But there isn’t much to be heard. Don’t you hate that?

For now life looks like ‘more of the same’. But I’m not actually satisfied here. I am grateful for the incredibly good life we have – no question there – but I feel like I have lost some of the more adventurous spirit that I had 10 years ago and I’m not happy about it. But part of the reason I’m not happy is that I don’t think I can simply ‘call it back into being’. I think I’d be faking it to try and be that person today and I find that a bit hard to understand.

I realise some of you are probably thinking that this is a little too raw for a public blog… but that’s the kind of blog I have been writing for the last 8 years now, so that isn’t changing.

So either I just need a really good holiday, or there is a change in seasons in my own identity. I think it may be a bit of both, but I’m finding it hard to figure out just who I am in a different space. I find myself both drawn to the desire for stability, comfort and an easy life and then just as equally repelled by it.

I find myself wanting to quit paid Christian ministry and yet unable to. I find myself wishing I was free from my business but then sparking with new ideas of how to develop it.

So that’s where my life sits at the moment. This post isn’t a preparation for any dramatic changes that are lurking – at least not that I’m aware of. Its just a ‘think out loud’ about what its like for seasons to change and for me to figure out who I am in a new space.