On the way home. Lake Pukaki
The Parish of Upper Clutha has churches in Cromwell, Tarras and Wanaka and I was scheduled to be there for the whole of the Easter weekend. This is a part of the world where people go to ski, mess about in boats, hike, run or just gawp open mouthed at the scenery. Upper Clutha has had a new lease of life in recent years and is one of our Diocese's most vital parishes.
It was 1 degree in the Manuka Gorge at 7.30 am on Good Friday Morning and we were towing the caravan, so what with the weight and the risk of ice and everything we took it fairly slow. We arrived in Cromwell just in time to help a fairly sizeable crowd carry a large wooden cross from the Junction Lookout by Lake Dunstan to the Presbyterian Church, maybe 3 km away. After the customary country style morning tea, we drove on to Wanaka for an early afternoon Good Friday Liturgy, and then parked the caravan beside the church, on the site of what I hope is soon going to be the new community house.
It was 1 degree in the Manuka Gorge at 7.30 am on Good Friday Morning and we were towing the caravan, so what with the weight and the risk of ice and everything we took it fairly slow. We arrived in Cromwell just in time to help a fairly sizeable crowd carry a large wooden cross from the Junction Lookout by Lake Dunstan to the Presbyterian Church, maybe 3 km away. After the customary country style morning tea, we drove on to Wanaka for an early afternoon Good Friday Liturgy, and then parked the caravan beside the church, on the site of what I hope is soon going to be the new community house.
On Saturday we were guests of Sir Tim and Lady Prue Wallace at the Warbirds Over Wanaka airshow. I'll publish some photos soon, but much to Clemency's surprise, though not to mine, we both enjoyed it immensely. There was an hour and a half's drive to cover the 10 km or so from Wanaka to the air field, but even that seemed like a gift. We doodled along at about walking pace, chatted and listened to music. Then we sat comnfortably in the VIP tent, sipped our wine and watched the lovely old aircraft doing their thing. Then, on Saturday evening, we were part of a vigil service back at Cromwell in a clear, still, bright, early evening.
On Sunday we had two services in St. Columba's. The little church was packed to bursting on both occasions, with extra seats placed at the back and in the little hall to the side. There were a lot of visitors but many were locals, and all spoke warmly of the Vicar, Damon Plimmer and the transformative effect he has had on the parish in the 3 years since he arrived.
Then, before lunch we hitched up the caravan and headed for the Lindis Pass.
Then, before lunch we hitched up the caravan and headed for the Lindis Pass.
We drove up through Otematata and past the 3 lakes to Geraldine, before going on to the birthday party of an old friend at Mayfield; and then up to Christchurch to catch up with Bridget and her little family. And, finally, home today. It seems like a lot longer than 5 days since we left Dunedin. That happens when a lot happens.
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Maybe the scheduled discussions of The Way Forward will be not so much fun, you may receive not a little, ahem, instruction, on the subject, from sincere and absolutely well-meaning people on both sides of the argument, unhappily generating more heat than light.
I pray for you.