Two upsets. Penrith losing was understandable.
Brisbane aren’t terrible, they just played terribly at the end of last season.
The Dolphins demonstrated that a team with no stars can win if the players are all workers. And Easts don’t seem to want to start seasons strongly.
It leaves things a bit up in the air this week.
I’m going out on a limb thinking Brisbane will lose and Dolphins will win.
North Queensland are a good team, and I don’t think Canberra have any stars either.

(Draws count as correct)
NRL (last round 6/8; season tally 6/8)
Penrith
Parramatta
North Queensland
Easts
Dolphins
Melbourne
Wests
Gold Coast

Knowing that God is there and identifying how God is at work where he is are two different things.
Knowing that God is there enables us to keep living with trust and faith in the uncertainty of life.
Thinking that we have identified how God is at work brings the urge to codify the situation in the expectation that repeating the circumstances will see a repetition of God’s work. Which puts humanity in control.
Time and again I’ve seen what are identified as ways God has worked packaged in repeatable programs in the expectation that God will work if we simply repeat the circumstances over and again.

From a longer reflection on these situations (involving some thoughts from Karl Barth) by Sam Bush at Mockingbird.

God, it seems, doesn’t leave any fingerprints. Because if God did leave fingerprints, they would instantly become blueprints for the future. No matter how well-intentioned, revivals could not be turned into a franchise of mini-revivals. If Christianity was to have any power at all, it would come from God alone. And it would frustratingly come and go as He pleases. God’s handiwork may be found all over the world, but the moment you pin it down it slips through your fingertips. God works within and somehow beyond the causations of time.

source

In an introductory chapter in the book The Good Funeral Thomas G. Long writes about his experience of his call to ministry.
A lot of that experience resonated, especially this paragraph:

The fact of the matter is that most people who end up as priests, ministers, and pastors are not religious virtuosi at all, bear few markings of saints, and have made no ‘A’s in purity of heart. In fact, most of us clergy spend at least some time explaining to the astonished people who knew us in our youth just how someone with our temperament and track record ended up as one of God’s sky pilots.

Thomas G. Long and Thomas Lynch, The Good Funeral, Westminster John Knox Press, 2013, pg. 39.

A nice observation by Clarence Jordan about the way in which Jesus’ choice of the twelve actually demonstrated the working of the kingdom at the same time as he was preparing the twelve to proclaim the kingdom.
Jordan points out that if you put a tax-collector (publican) and a zealot at close quarters you need more than a theory, you need a life changing force.

Christians have diminished this witness by affirming the theory of the Gospel and that we’re all one people in the kingdom of God, but dividing and separating ourselves into smaller and smaller kingdom-lets because that’s easier than living with the tension of unity in our differences.

… [Jesus] picked a tax collector, a publican. Now, frankly, if had been setting up a movement, I don’t believe I would have chosen a Repub- uh, publican. These fellows were not popular. Nobody liked them. They collected taxes from the Jewish people and sent it off to the Roman government. He would be just about as popular in our part of the country as a fellow from the federal government trying to enforce integration. This publican was just hated. He was a collaborationist with the occupying forces. But Jesus chose him.
Then he chose another fellow by the name of Simon the Zealot. These Zealots were very interesting people; they were the super-duper patriots of Jesus’ day. All you had to do was strike up one strain of Dixie and they would be out there waving the Confederate flag. They were all for it. Their motto was, “Save your Confederate money, boys, the South will rise again!”
In order to be a Zealot, you had to make an oath to three things. You said, one, “No tax but the temple tax.” That is, you would pay the religious tax but you wouldn’t pay the federal income tax. Second, “No lawgiver but Moses.” You wouldn’t take the decisions of the federal Supreme Court, only Moses had the right to tell his pople wharto do. And, third, “No king but Jehovah.” you wouldn’t take the laws from the Roman emperor.
Now, one other thing you had to do when you became Zealot was to swear that if opportunity ever afforded iself you would assassinate publicans. You had to look for an opportunity, and if you ever found one where you could get away with it, you would slit his throat.
So Jesus chose Matthew the publican and Simon the Zealot, the absolute opposite extremes of society, and put them in the same fellowship. Can you imagine it? I venture to say that on more than one night, Jesus had to sleep between those two boys. Poor old Matthew the publican never knew when he might wake up in the still wee hours of the night to find a cold piece of steel on his throat. If Jesus could take a wild-eyed, fanatical, patriotic Zealot and a celebrating publican and put them in the same sack and shake them up and cause them to have the love of God in their hearts so that they could walk down Main Street in Jerusalem holding hands and calling one another “Brother Matt” and “Brother Simon,” the kingdom of God was there. It was absolute proof that the reign of God had changed these people from the little old caterpillars of hate and prejudice and greed and made them into the butterflies of his new order.
When someone would say “Where is this kingdom of God that you’re talking about?” he could say, “Right there. There is Simon, there is Matthew. Here are the men that I have planted these ideas among, and here it is expressing itself.”

Clarence Jordan, The Inconvenient Gospel, Plough Publishing House, 2022, pgs. 74-76.