About 15 years ago I was under the impression that all was good with my life and that all of my friendships and ministry relationships were all good and solid.
South Melbourne, Australia, April 1983.
I was driving along Clarendon Street in South Melbourne on my way to Castlemaine to visit my parents.
To be a genuine believer at all, in a western context, is actually a remarkable achievement – given our continual exposure and constant indoctrination in the complex web and
Years ago, when I was living in Belgrave, on the edge of Sherbrooke Forest, I developed a friendship with a local calligrapher and graphic designer who lived just a few houses up
