It’s still very clear in my mind, the day I walked into the Pain Clinic at Flinders. I was in my early twenties, and I immediately felt unsettled. The walls were rotting and peeling, and I felt squished and oppressed from the low ceilings and tight spaces. It was as though everything about the corridors and waiting area was designed to be as uncomfortable as some post-modernist Foucauldian institution.

A heartfelt reflection of the masks we wear to hide our pain, and how God calls us to live unmasked and truly known.

My daughter, Diane, found a picture of a patchwork quilt and loved it, many years ago. The feature of the quilt consists of twelve crocheted squares, twelve inches square. Diane did not crochet but I did and so I made the squares for her.

A reflective Thursday Brew with Gwen about her 1978 writing class — faith, free will, and why God allows suffering. A testimony of how everyday encounters can strengthen faith and inspire writing.

This may seem like something very small, and not at all worthy of commenting on, but often I think progress is the accumulation of tiny, little triumphs and not so much the great, magnificent trophy.

‘Where is my boob?’ I looked with consternation as my granddaughter Natalie pulled a pair of bras from the shopping bag in which she had brought me a set of clothes. I had spent two days in hospital with a gastro bug and felt that to go home fully clothed rather than in pajamas and dressing gown would help my self-esteem considerably.

Maureen, not her real name, discovered that a diamond was missing from her engagement ring.  Maureen was very upset. The loss was so great it felt as if her left hand had been cut off. Maureen and her husband turned the house upside down...

The election maybe over but we are still being bombarded with the jubilation of the winners and the angst of the losers.

Over a pie, honey log cake and custard slice, I and my family sat in a café after church, discussing the sermon we had just heard. The question arose about revelation of truth, that moment when a camera flash went off in the mind and you thought, wow!

Let me begin by painting you a picture. I came from a broken family. My mum and dad divorced before I was four. I lived with mum while my older sister went with dad. I saw dad once a year for two to three weeks, and that is the only contact I had with him up to eleven years of age...

Around this time, every year, I write an email to myself and schedule it to arrive sometime in April, usually after my birthday.

A secret Life… It seems everything has a secret life, even plants. A curious scientist is needed to unravel those secrets. The gardener may have certain suspicions about the secret life of plants, trees and water. We never document those suspicions thinking they are granny's tales and fearful of being considered crazy.

These past couple of days I've really had to knuckle down and push past a fear barrier of mine. The new gym I've been attending has been a bit busier over the school holidays/Easter break, and I don't deal well with - er - people.

Do you want to be beautiful?  Then be a friend. You will not wear the sash or the tiara, friendship is not part of the criteria...

Yesterday, Sunday , we celebrated Palm Sunday.  It was the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey.  Crowds gathered to see him and a

The story, Oliver Twist, had a character called the Artful Dodger He was well versed in the art of evading capture and hunger...

When I was a little girl there was a prayer I prayed – over and over in my journals. I prayed that God would teach me to live a life learnin