The Three Degrees Of Separationalisation

There is always a shortage of rations.

However there is rarely a shortage of rationalisations.

Take me for example.

Today I visited relatives in Luton, including my Auntie Joan. (above)

Of course I told them all about my year in New Zealand, about looking for work, about believing against the odds, and eventually about how I finally landed the temporary job in Christian radio that I had so sought after.

Chatting to my cousin, I found myself summing-up New Zealand as being a very small community. Only 4 million people you see. Unlike say for example London, which has 7 million.

New Zealand’s low population has resulted in a greater level of trust in strangers, a community spirit containing I reckon only three degrees of separation. In other words, most people will try to help you out, because you quite possibly know someone that one of their friends does.

“I’d say the way to get on in New Zealand,” I thought out loud to my cousin, “is to simply get to know as many people as possible.”

And there it was - I’d said it.

I’d taken my miraculous year of faith, my living on God’s providence, my humble acceptance of his personally designed plan for me, and taken the credit for it all myself.

Maybe I’ve been back home too long.