Grandpa Lived with Us. He Was Slowly Becoming Forgetful

Where’s Grandpa?

Grandpa lived with us. He was slowly becoming forgetful.

One particular day, we were at school, Dad was at work and Mum was hanging out the washing. Grandpa had his breakfast and was, to all intents and purposes, reading the paper outside on the front veranda.

Mum finished hanging out the clothes, came in to check on him and found an empty chair. He had disappeared.

Neighbours and family were alerted. Where was he? We were just about to ring the police when a gentleman from the church turned up with the dear old chap. He found him agitated and banging on the church’s front door. From then on, Grandpa needed special support and care.

But there is something to take from where he was found. Every Sunday he was at that lovely old church just up the road. He was a board member and involved in many fetes and activities for years. When he was lost and distressed, he was led back to the place where he loved to be, his spiritual home.

Psalm 84 is a psalm of praise to God. In his Temple, his dwelling, there is a spiritual home for all, safe and cared for. Even the sparrows have their nest and the swallows have a home for their young. In the nooks and crannies of this huge Temple, there is room for even the tiniest of God’s creatures to find a home, and they join in songs of praise to God.

Reflection: Read Psalm 84.Praise God for the worship leaders in your church who lead the praise Sunday by Sunday. May our songs and prayers issue in mission and outreach, especially to those who need loving care. Praise God for the mission of Uniting.

Bill Pugh

Names on the wall

In many churches there are honour boards for those who served in various wars. Preparing a newsletter item, I chose to research one name thinking this might be an appropriate gesture. I wasn’t expecting to be so touched.

I knew none of the names. None of those families remain associated with our congregation. I chose one at random, and set to looking up the Australian War Memorial website.

I discovered ‘my’ WWI soldier lived just four houses away from my home, enlisted on the first day possible and landed with the Light Horse regiment on Gallipoli. He was a VC. He was wounded and sent to England, later joining the fledgling air force, and was eventually shot down and killed. His distraught family placed moving annual memorial notices in The Argus for years.

One name on the wall.

I scanned the fading gold lettering of the other names. Each one a story. Each one a heartbreak.

Lest we forget.

Reflection
In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety. Psalm 4:8

By Ian Menzies

United together

My labour is one of love, chosen to shine from the heavens above.
This vocation was not necessarily my choice but I’ve accepted its calling;
my vocation was to teach others by using my voice.

In my youth it bubbled and tickled but became lost in my pain
and the pain of others,
this slowed its growth to nothing but a trickle.

Though I became resistant, life persisted and ultimately saw me through.
Slowly helping me to heal the pain;
accepting the very existence I ran from wasn’t in vain.

It has given me strength to shine a light in places most dark,
for this universally conspiring guidance brought back my voice,
tickling and bubbling the calling has truly become my choice.

If truth is the key, honesty the lock,
Pandora the house then unity is the rock.
The foundations we set and never forget are love, hope, faith and forgiveness;
they bind this, our human cement.

Hard and everlasting, it is neither a trick nor an illusion we set.
Rather life, love and learning are the ultimate yearnings
for from history’s mistakes we learn to do better, lest we forget.

Be proud of who you are becoming, allow it to be seen.
It is the loudest of whispers and surely our truth;
in the allowance of united needs be a uniting proof.
United together we all should live under Mother Nature’s roof.

By Russell Hawkins Prater (Dedicated to my Small Baba)

Reflection: We are born from the one Creator, united by our common humanity. How can we use our voices to lift up our fellow brothers and sisters?

A pleasant Sunday evening

Years ago on a Sunday evening there was a program on the ABC that ran for half-an-hour. Great hymns of faith sang by wonderful choirswere introduced by A E Floyd, the long-time organist at St Paul’s Cathedral.

I can still hear his rather quaint but lovely voice. I used to listen to it before I walked into our church next door to take the evening service. One hymn, often repeated, resonated with me. “The day you gave us, Lord, is ended.”

Yet when Sunday worship is over and night falls, the church is still unsleeping. All around the world as the new day dawns, worship continues. Prayer is never silent. Fresh voices are praising God and telling of wondrous things happening in his Name.

Sometimes we feel our witness in the world is tiny. But together, with men, women and children around the world we are building the Kingdom. Whatever the hour, day or night, Kingdom people are praising God.

Reflection: Read TIS 458 and may the last verse of Tillerton’s wonderful hymn inspire and encourage each of us.

So be it, Lord; your throne shall never,
Like earth’s proud empires, pass away;
Your kingdom stands,and grows forever,
Till all your creatures own your sway.

Bill Pugh