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my view FEBRUARY 2020
Don’t bother with the Big Orange My wife Chris and I seek out big icons when we go on holidays. (Yes, I know it’s sad!) We have seen the Big Cricket Bat, the Big Lobster, the Big ‘pink and grey’ Cockatoo, the Big Kangaroo, the Big Windmill, the Big Axe, and the list goes on.
Mal Good Mal Good along with his wife Chris are the Pastors at Casuarina Baptist Church, located in the Northern Suburbs of Darwin.
Sometimes we are disappointed (don’t ask me about the Big Potato) – either they are not what we expected, or they are closed, fenced off and in decay, like the Big Orange. Other icons or images are inspiring. I still remember the Olympic Games in Sydney, and the image of Cathy Freeman winning gold. I wonder how many children joined athletics clubs in the days and months that followed? The prophet Isaiah presents us with an image of the Lord
in the temple – you can read about it in Isaiah 6. This too is an inspiring image; what a sight to behold! Whilst Isaiah is also caught up in the grandeur and splendour of the moment, he also comes to the realisation of who he is, and how unlike the Lord he is. In a sense, his very witnessing of this image spoils the image. What a dilemma! Our presence tarnishes the perfect image of the Lord in the temple. We too would cry out, “Wow to me, I am ruined …” but instead of our tarnished presence spoiling
the image of the Lord Almighty in the temple, the Lord Almighty cleanses the spoilt. I find it almost inconceivable that the live glowing coal from the altar didn’t burn up and destroy Isaiah’s face, leaving him mute and disfigured, if not destroyed. Rather there was a purifying and cleansing that took place, enabling and empowering him, that he may use his voice, in the service of the Lord Almighty. The perfect image was not damaged, but rather the damaged was made whole.
It reminds me of who Jesus is and what He does! The image of Cathy Freeman may have inspired a generation of athletes, but the image and presence of the Lord has been transforming lives, bringing wholeness and inspiring people all over the world for two millennia and He hasn’t stopped! What images have inspired you?
My hope is built on nothing less Going into labour on someone’s driveway, with the hospital a 30 minute walk away, isn’t ideal. This was the situation for the girl we found at the bottom of our road recently.
Sally Pim Sally Pim serves with Global Interaction, working with the Yawo people in Massangulo, Mozambique.
Thankfully, my friend Bek and I were able to get her in the car and drive to the hospital in Massangulo. Unfortunately, at the hospital we learnt that things were complicated and the hospital was not equipped to deal with this type of birth. A medic jumped in our car and set up an intravenous drip and we drove in the night to a much bigger hospital in Lichinga – a good couple of hours away on, and at times, a very bumpy road. Thankfully we only had to stop twice to reset the drip in her arm.
We were met at the entrance by nurses who quickly loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her inside. With the mother and husband staying at the hospital, we drove home that night, praying and wondering what the outcome would be. There is so much fear surrounding pregnancies in Africa. So much so that people refuse to talk about their pregnancies in case something bad happens. There doesn’t always seem to be much hope in carrying a baby to full term. There isn’t a lot of hope even in the hospitals.
I love the hymn My Hope is Built on Nothing Less. One particular verse says: “When darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace; in every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.” We have access to that hope. Even when we cannot trust the sweetest frame. Even when the worst happens. We can trust in Jesus – He is our ever-present hope. His grace and love stays with us through it all. This life, for all of us, has incredibly hard moments, huge struggles and real pain. This fear of pregnancies –
that’s not unfounded. It is real, and it is scary. Hope doesn’t take away the pain, but it lets us know there is something more than this. As we reflect on the hope of Jesus, please join me in praying that our friends in Mozambique might know that hope. Even when darkness hides God’s face, even if the worst happens, may our Yawo friends rest on His unchanging grace. Our friend, the woman in labour on our driveway, had her baby. After a successful caesarean, her beautiful brandnew daughter joined her on the trip home to Massangulo where this safe and happy arrival was celebrated with lots of joy!
On a fire … We had set off for home after dinner with friends when we received a text: “Are you OK? Just heard a house in your street is on fire.”
Dr Brian Harris Dr Brian Harris is the Principal of Vose Seminary and Pastor at Large for the Carey Group.
Rosemary, who thinks more nimbly than I (and wasn’t driving), immediately googled whatever site tells you where fires are, and sure enough, it reported a house on fire in our street – but didn’t say which one. Ours is a short street, so the odds that it was ours were disturbing. “You switched the aircon off, didn’t you?” I asked in as non-accusatory a tone as I could muster. “Of course not,” Rosemary said, “I asked you to.” “Well then I guess I did,” I said not too convincingly.
Strange the thoughts that dash through your head ... My first was, “Be noble. Hope it’s our house rather than someone else’s. God will see us through.” But that was drowned by an instant prayer, “Lord, please don’t let it be our house.” Even more strangely, I then thought, “But if it’s our house, my passport will be destroyed, and I’m due to set off for the US soon. That would be a real nuisance.” Rosemary wasn’t impressed when I shared that with her. The 12 minute drive felt endless, but eventually we turned into our street – ambulance
and fire engine very visibly present, together with half the neighborhood gawking as smoke poured from the house immediately behind us – though we were quickly told, just a few minutes before it was flames as high as – well, high. Even as a wave of sympathy for our rear neighbors swept over me, I was conscious of deep relief. Not our house. My passport should be fine … Everyone chatted on the street for long after. No serious injuries – just extensive damage to property. We agreed, you can replace things, but not people.
There was a collective sense of relief that tragic though this was, it was a ‘less than it could have been’ disaster. For all that, there is a family who has to rebuild a life – and a house. They will be sifting through priorities. Oh, and incidentally, Rosemary had switched our air conditioning off. And if it had come to the crunch, I could have gotten a new passport.