The ambling continues. . .

Dad turned 81 last weekend, and for the first time in decades, Mum, Dad, Helen and I went to the movies together. We saw 'Earth' which was a wonderful film - hence the card I made for Dad which features it on the cover. Helen gave him the card with the toad and thick glasses, also a great success.
Dad's had two weekends of celebration - it being Father's Day yesterday, so all ideas for gifts and cards have been totally exhausted.
In the meantime, back to the walk I am endeavoring. . .
I made this entry in my diary yesterday (Sunday) and will compact it down for the blog.
It has been an odd week. I'm trying to make sense of it in the light of my desire to practice the presence of Christ. If ever obstacles could be cast in the way of that, I've had them lately. I admit too, that I've taken to reading novels again, on the bus, last thing at night, and it DOES make a difference to the frequency with which I turn. But still, I catch a glimpse of two colours together that give me pause, or hear (like just now) a tui sing, or enjoy the graceful line of some two objects together, and my spirit responds: "Lord". I catch myself staring dully ahead at the lights when in my car, and suddenly remember Him, and feel the love surge up. Or a person will smile at me, and I smile back and know it is the Lord. I see butterflies a lot. (Even now, there's a blackbird just flown in to shelter from wind and rain in the tree in front of this window, and I think, LORD, you are my shelter).
None of the above happens often enough to be in any way revolutionary, and yet I WILL NOT let myself lose hope or feel condemned. When the moment of guilt hits, I just say 'Lord' and feel grateful I remembered at last.
My feelings were very low yesterday and yet He was there. A week ago our house was targeted by taggers (who live on the street we found out). The landlord came down and removed the tag and told the suspects that he knew it was they. They foolishly have a 'practice tag' on the inside wall of the carport. He went to the police about it.
On Friday night I was reading in bed, and a huge explosion happened just outside the window (it felt). I rushed outside to see our letterbox in disarray, and upon closer investigation, saw it had been bottle-bombed. A newly exploded bottle on the ground beside it. The men across the road both thought it was retaliation from the taggers, but the next morning it turns out to be local high school boys playing pranks. We had the police around after the incident and they took statements but they can do nothing unless someone sees it happen.
Ah well. Despite it all, I am very aware that it is surface stuff. Upsetting initially, and it does ruffle my feathers, but I'm back to finding out whether this impetuous and scatty individual can touch the depths of Christ. Lord.