Today's been a fairly typically hectic day of extremes. Started out walking down to Zac's HQ in the rain to open up and help with the daily breakfast provision for Swansea'a rough sleepers and importantly to reassure Brian I would be taking him to rehab later. An interview with a government official followed as part of supplying a character reference for a friend. Then it was a short walk around the corner to pick up the hire car and on to the Big Issue office to pick up Brian and his solitary plastic bag of possessions. We make the 300 mile round trip to drive him to Birmingham, to what will hopefully be at least a 12 month residential rehabilitaion programme for a multitude of addictions - he's begining to start 'rattling' in the passenger seat as cold turkey becomes imminent as does the struggle of not bumbing into his kids for a long time. Six hours later I arrive back at Zac's Place to oversea the Coffee Bar drop in where about 25 folk are fed (plus one ferret also), a broken foot injury is assessed and the order of service of a funeral earlier that day is passed around the regulars - i am grateful for a good turnout of volunteers and enough cover for some else to do the soup run so I can get home to see the kids before they go to bed. Nothing particulary outrageous or groundshaking about today, so why mention it?
Like many millions around the world, earlier last week I caught the glimpses of the croc man, Steve Irwin's memorial service on the news. The tribute his 8 year old daughter, Bindi, read had a big impact on me, but not the way you might think. I was impressed with how she has grasped what her Daddy was about - what inspired him, what motivated him, total comittment to the preservation and protection of wildlife. It left me thinking about the kind of impression my own kids have of me and what I do. Do they see someone who's just extremely busy and causing a stir? Or do they see someone who's desire is to follow Jesus to the extreme, and wants to change the world?