We have left the Northern Territory and journeyed south and are currently house-hunting in Victoria. It is a true test of faith to be in limbo like this - trusting that our Heavenly Father knows and cares about our needs. Having a home, a part of the world that we claim as ours, marking our territory with our belongings, is very important to us humans. But sometimes, perhaps, too important. Sometimes we are struck with the realisation that this is not home, could never be home. We are all just travellers, passing through. Our country, our REAL country, is further than Outback. Our country is Way Beyond The Blue. And there is no comfortable 3 or 4 bedroom homes all with build-ins, waiting for us there. Oh no! There we have mansions. Mansions build to speck. 2000 years in the making. How good is that.
I learned a lot in the Northern Territory. One of the things I learned was how the Indigenous people view family. For teachers it was sometimes confusing, because a child would as likely be picked up from school by an auntie of other family member, as their actual parent. Children are looked after and valued by the whole community, and one's sisters children are as one's own.
Perhaps this is like the Body of Christ. We are all family. We are all one Mob. We all belong to that same Country. Is it suprising, therefore, that we can spend some much time and energy producing literature for the children of our brothers and sisters in Timor-Leste? Of course not. Because that is what we do.
Because we love each other.