Mr. Editorial Assistant

I do not how it happened but I am ecstatic.


I am officially an Editorial Assistant at the Financial Times. 


And to look and feel the part, I have performed the necessary research and discovered a few key items that indeed must be purchased before I commence this week.


They are.

The Tan Corduroy Suit

Vintage Briefcase

Burgundy Loafers

Essential Reading Material

fully seated, harness locked, head back, hands tightly gripped

Each day for me in London has seemed to bring a new opportunity and many obstacles along my way. 


Never taking things for granted (as I have learned how quickly things can turn around!), I now realise I have to embrace this rollercoaster-of-a-ride and knowing that the rails have been set before me and the destination is good.


I will let myself scream on the loop-the-loops and laugh with anticipation at sight of the grand climbs and deep falls of this life-long ride - knowing the excitement and risk of being a young man has placed me on this path. 


This week has been no exception and I find myself with two amazing job opportunities that I could not have imagined I would be doing if you were to suggest them to me, say, this time last year. Nor could I have orchestrated their timing or chased down the people I needed to meet in order to be offered these roles without it being pre-destined for me.


Both are fashion and publishing industry positions and have the potential to challenge and develop me immensely as a young man and business professional within an industry that sets my heart alight by the mere thought of it.


I will keep you all posted on the progression.


So here goes - fully seated, harness locked, head back, hands tightly gripped.

The Son

I love how I can also have this 'knowing' just like Jesus did.
To live as this is my daily desire and comfort.
It's my prayer.


'The divine relationship of Father to Son filled his (Jesus) human heart;
It was his secret, his joy;
A constant awareness;
A basic attitude that determined his behaviour' - A Biblical Spirituality of the Heart.







And this.


'When the son has this confidence, this security and safety created by masculine strength over him, the whole world opens before him. He is able to live as a boy - an explorer and adventurer' - John Eldredge.


Waking each day with this hope in our hearts takes courage and strength to truly believe. 
But it is the truth of how we are treasured and is far too important to forget. Ever.

With the Death of Winter

I feel like I have been reborn. Seriously. 


And it's in this city of London that has drained the life-blood of my existence these past three months through its dreary winter temperament that tends to lash out at one immediately upon leaving his cosy, centrally heated domain.


BUT. WOW. London has romanced my heart afresh and has instilled in me a sense of hope that this once scarlet-woman-of-a-town actually may have my interests at heart. Just maybe.


To start things off -  two words. CUT COPY.
The Australian lads did not disappoint as they packed the Kentish Town's Forum for a laser-lighted, smoke-laden and digitally advanced performance which just kept me smiling the whole set.


From the beginnings of Where I'm Going I immediately felt like summer and all things warm had literally come upon me. I immediately burst into a what I call the Charlie Chaplin stride where one walks in an exaggerated  motion in the same spot - it felt appropriate at the time! I wanted to grab the hand of the person next to me and pretend we were taking a stroll along Broadway Market on the pathway to London Fields. Or down Columbia Road Flower Market enveloped in the humming of the French jazz group that so often serenades that fragrantly colourful lane.
The rest of the performance could have been awful after that point for all cared as I was already decided the night was good one.


BUT it got even better with Lights and Music and Hearts on Fire.


Thank you Cut Copy for bringing the spring to London.


So I awoke the next morning and waving her white flag of surrender was the London winter. The sun was beaming sweet rays of goodness; the birds singing songs of laughter. It was a dream and all the people walking by me on the street were experiencing the same sleep.


To celebrate, Emma and I decided to pay tribute to London and visit one of her museums - The London Street Photography Exhibit.


While small, the photographs were mesmerising with the two of us in visual awe of how impeccably dressed many of the common Londoners were. Something that has been devastatingly lost.


Some of my favourites.

May the warmth prosper...

As a king would be

Something inside of me lately has risen up. 


It is the longing to be like a king. 


Not in the sense of the word where I am to rule and reign over all, but as a man who takes control of his kingdom and sees it flourish. A king like David. 

A king is the ruler of his God-given kingdom and it is here that he is a watcher of those in weakness, a protector for those in persecution, and a supplier of goodness for those needing refreshment. A king knows his dominion and its perimeters; he loves his people. 
He will wage war when the walls of the castle are under siege.
He will allow times of festivity and celebration, bestowing blessing and generosity upon those ready to receive. A king like Jesus.

The king has the authority to converse personally with his God. 
Every hour of every day spent listening in eager anticipation to the voice of Him whose fathering heart has brought the king thus far. 


The king knows the part he must play and knows the Father will never forsake him.

'The King's heart is like a stream of water directed by the Lord;

He guides it wherever he pleases.' - Proverbs 21:1