The little things

Tonight I volunteered with great trepidation to sing Christmas Carols in our local public hospital.

For one thing, I'm not a fan of hospitals (although I doubt I'm alone in that) and two, I love Christmas Carols, especially when sung in beautiful harmonies... this however was not going to be the case tonight.

So I put in my flashing angel earrings (a secret santa gift from years ago that still brings the joy :) and headed to the hospital with the thought in mind that they might be too sick to care what we sounded like.

I'm now, obviously, typing this following the event and I am really thankful that sometimes we take the time to do little things for others. It really wasn't any hassle to go out tonight and sing to people for a couple of hours, but it did mean a lot to them and their families.

We started in the critical care ward, standing in one place in the middle of the ward, singing songs and wondering what Christmas will be like for the people and family of those in the ward. From there we went to the surgical units, on to orthopedic and finished up in the rehabilitation ward.

Two men and one woman are hovering in my thoughts as I write this, one was a man who looked at me when I said Merry Christmas to him and made the comment as much to himself as to me "Merry Christmas to you to darling" it was said with such an Aussie genuineness that I was really touched. Another man was in the rehabilitation ward after a car/motorbike accident. He was lying on his bed, with his wife next to him, holding her hand and giving us the thumbs up and attempting to sing - he requested Away in a Manger and as we sung it had tears streaming down his face and his wife struggled to hold hers back. He kept saying when we'd finished - God bless you, God bless you... our simple song touched his heart and broken mind and body in a way that I can't imagine, and as I write this I ask that your prayers and good will be with him and his wife. The third was a lady, also in the rehab ward who cried as we sang and requested more songs than anyone else - as she was wheeled away the nurse mentioned to her "they really are doing God's work".

Sometimes we make ministry more complicated then it needs to be. Tonight we ministered to people that needed it, and it was as simple as taking the time to say "yes, I'll come and sing".

Home

I've been thinking a lot about the concept of "home" these past few days. These thoughts have sprung from a conversation I had with my mom in which she asked if I felt at home/at ease where I was holidaying, and if so, was wondering if that was because I was born there. She likened it to how she feels in a big city, or how dad feels in the country or how I feel when I visit Asia or New Zealand. That sense of simple contentment which I've never felt on a consistent basis here, other than it's the place I know like the back of my hand and due to that so easy to live in.

In Google when you type define:home one of the definitions that pop up is this:

base: the place where you are stationed and from which missions start and end

That definition encompasses how I feel about where I live now. It's my base, and it isn't "a place of refuge and comfort" (Wikipedia) for any other reason than the people that are here. In addition, interestingly, when asked these past two years if Toowoomba is now my home I've always replied saying "It's my base".

My church in Hong Kong was my home - I felt instantly and contitinually comfortable there. It seems to be my reference point for how comfortable I feel. Another church I've been to recently was that as well, but oddly enough, not my current one although I've been going there for longer than I can remember.

Home is an interesting concept to ponder. And, moreso when we consider what Christ said in Matthew 8 and Luke 9 where he states he has no place to rest his head, and in addition, the references to our Heavenly home.

I have Eli's live album playing in my head where he speaks of a discontent in all our hearts when we realise that "I'm not home", then in my jumbled head I jump to Jamie Smith's song "home" where the lyrics read:

My heart fails
My mind falters
Sometimes my passion fades
Sometimes my desires change
Sometimes I turn my head and I look the other way

When I'm restless you are rest
When I'm helpless you are help
When I'm nervous you settle me
When I'm empty you fill me
When I've gone to far you gently bring me home
'Cause you are home

Home is where my history begins
Home is where you delight in me
Home is where your voice is in my ear
Home is where you dance with me

At the end of the day, and at the end of my ponderings I think I'll come to the same conclusion that I have now - whatever restlessness I feel, whenever I feel it, it should draw me closer to God than further away from him. They say that home is where the heart is, and if so, my home is all over the world with the people I love in many, many places... and I'm comfortable with that. In terms of my discussion with Mom, well - that's another issue entirely :)