On our recent holiday Anna and I stayed in a house at North Arm Cove. You could look out (despite the bush fire smoke) and see, dotted below, yachts and motorboats sitting at their moorings.  

From a distance they looked luxurious – even decadent. I could imagine myself standing at the till, sails unfurled, sunglasses on, wind in my face, drink in hand, Anna preparing a feast in the galley kitchen below, as the bow of our boat ploughed effortlessly through the waves – just another day in the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

Most mornings I jumped in my much humbler kayak and paddled past those very same vessels. The view wasn’t nearly as enticing. Some appeared unseaworthy - hulls covered in barnacles, paint peeling, bird poo staining the deck. Most were old and tired - canvases torn, decals faded, patch up marks evident. Up close, all I saw were money pits.

I reflected on how we live our lives. We try so hard to look good from a distance. We dress up, patch up, and keep most things hidden below the surface. Yet even this level of maintenance is hard work. So please, don’t get too close. My glory is best assessed from a distance.

But family, close friends, and most importantly God, see what we’re really like, up close. Truth be told, we’re falling apart and don’t have sufficient resources to keep up appearances and function as we should.

But let us not despair. Our Lord, the captain of our soul, has resources aplenty. He offers to come and fix us up from the inside out.