Here is what i said – thank you for all the encouraging comments after the service.

“Distinguished guests ladies and gentlemen – When the Mayor asked me to speak today the memories of 12 months ago came back – sights and sounds i will never forget seem to demand my attention once again – yet for me there was one event i will never forget. It painted a picture of the spirit of this community so vividly it will never leave me!

Twelve months ago yesterday i stood in the pouring rain outside the church and up through the driveway came bus after bus.

Expecting families and young people to alight from those buses to stay at the church, which was to be an evacuation centre – i saw an unexpected and frightening sight.

Wheelchairs, assisted walkers all being used by elderly people from 3 nursing homes

Many in the bedclothes

Disorientated

Dishevelled

Distressed

Very confused

I then realized this was a crisis of huge proportions – far bigger than my capacity or ability.

To be honest chaos reigned as we commenced to find bedding food medication lost articles of clothing for the most vulnerable yet deserving of our community

Reports of widespread flooding were now on the news

However my thoughts were about these people who had to be feed once morning came

Wonderful volunteers arrived to help – word had got out

The night was long

Morning arrived

AND then it happened – the event, which gave me a window into the soul of this community and showcased its tenacious spirit

I, together with many others at the church hadn’t slept that night – we had found some cereals for the elderly residents but not much else.

A ute pulled up and a man got out – “Who’s in charge?” – Everyone pointed to me – if only they knew.

“What do you need mate?”

I said the first thing that came to my head

“We need milk – plenty of it – enough for at least 200 people?” “No worries mate – i’ll be back!”

I remember thinking to my shame – “Perhaps!”

Breakfast now due – elderly people getting restless – a ute pulls up.

Full of milk – “Where’s that bloke in charge – you know the stressed looking one?”

Again everyone pointed to me

“Mate – went to every shop, shopping centre, service station – here’s your milk!”

A ute filled with milk enough for that complete day.

He unloaded the milk and left

I still don’t know his name

No payment

No credit needed

No fanfare

Here was the spirit of this community in action

And it didn’t stop with my friend in the ute

All over the city over the next weeks

Individuals

Families

All nameless – anonymous

All there to help

No need for fame

No need for recognition

An army arose

Hoses, brooms, shovels as their choice of weapon

Generosity as their uniform

Sacrifice as their battle-cry

Selflessness as their only endeavour

Hard work their mantle

With our political leaders leading the way so well

This community worked together

A unity of heart and purpose

We cleaned together

We cried with each other

We supported strangers and friends alike

Race religion background or ethnicity didn’t matter

We were in this together

Compassion flowed

Hearts joined with empathy

Courage reigned

As this community

Cleaned

Hosed

Housed

Cared for

Fed

Let our shoulders be cried upon

We supported

We rebuilt

We agitated when we thought things were too slow

We stood shoulder to shoulder

We showed the world what it meant to be a true community

We said to each other

If you are hurting i hurt

If you are grieving i am grieving

If you need my shirt take it

If you need food it’s yours

If you need rebuilding I’m there

What’s mine is yours

No flood will take away the hope and faith of this community

The better angels of our souls were awakened never to slumber again

I have now seen first hand two floods – 1974 I remember cleaning houses with my dad who was the local member of parliament here and now in 2011 – I never want to see another.

Yet this flood changed me – it changed us all

So when it rains for a little too long and fear seems to grip me

When my compassion quota declines

When my neighbour starts to become a stranger again

When my sense of community wearies me and I tire of leading

I find myself thinking of a bloke and a milk filled ute

AND hope, courage, compassion and faith return

Those better angels of my soul awake once again and shout to me encouragement that stirs my heart to action

AND at that moment I know without doubt that I love this city

This community

AND most of all I love this cities greatest treasure – it’s people!”

The reality of the situation didn’t hit me until a week later when I was explaining what, we as a church, had done during the recent Queensland floods. My listener, a nurse in an aged care facility, with ever-increasing shock on her face, then said, “Have you any idea what you have accomplished? You ran a nursing home from nothing. Who does that?”

It all started with a phone call. “Would the church be an evacuation centre for people in Ipswich affected by the floods?” It all sounded so noble, so worthy of a ‘tweet’. One hour later in pouring rain buses starting arriving full of elderly high care patients from three Aged Care Facilities who had been evacuated. They were disorientated, wet, scared and confused. One hundred and sixty five people and for the next five days and four nights they lived in our church facility.

To describe the next few days is beyond words. The old adage ‘you had to be there!’ applies. However imagine feeding, providing bedding, medical treatment, washing and cleaning these people for this period and starting from a position of no resources at all.

No food, no bedding, no supplies, no medication and most of all no experience. I knew we were in a little bit of hot water when the Red Cross representative who was supposed to be running the evacuation centre looked at the hordes of people arriving, then looked at me and said, “You’re in charge, congratulations!”

For the next few days we as a church had to source everything that related to the care of these beautiful people – many suffering from various ailments including dementia. Twenty four hour shifts of volunteers were set up, food sourced to feed not only the residents but also the volunteers, a medical centre and pharmacy established, bedding found, bathing and shower facilities erected, cold room brought in and volunteer rosters and meal planning created.

When I think of the volunteers from the church and the many that just turned up from the community and offered help I become emotional as I saw the church in action, as it should be – caring for the least of our society. Some of the volunteers including myself didn’t sleep for the first 32 hours as the enormity of the task ahead was realized and planning was urgently required. What had been achieved was the complete operation of a temporary aged care facility starting from scratch and reaching the point when many of the residents didn’t want to go home.

The Prime Minister Julia Gillard who visited the church in the midst of the floods said this in Parliament, ‘Pastor Mark Edwards, of Ipswich Region Community Church, opened his church as an evacuation centre and delayed the marriage of his daughter Gabrielle for a week, and tended the frail of three nursing homes in Ipswich.’

Yes – the postponement of my daughter’s wedding – well that is another story.

After the elderly residents moved out teams were sent from the church to clean homes and businesses in Ipswich. The church then commenced a food distribution centre, which is still operating today. Hundreds of food packages have been sent to needy families together with packages of electrical goods, kitchen and bathroom products.

The waters have receded but the work continues. Remember the city of Ipswich – 2500 houses fully inundated, over 7000 houses affected in some way and 600 business houses flooded. Our church was not the only church that helped and continues to do so. During this time the church through it’s people shone brightly.

And it all started with one phone call – an opportunity responded to and a need meet. All of us who were there will never be same again!

Where did this year disappear? It seems that time has become slightly faster, yet at this time of the year I remember all that has taken place.

Time plays tricks on your memory sometimes – the worse doesn’t seem so bad and the great seems to be rather ordinary. Events come and go as I remember.

The engagement of one of my girls – the transformation of a household into a disciplined wedding planning centre – now just a few short weeks until I walk her down the aisle towards a new season of life.

I have enjoyed new friendships, seen some friends pass away far too young, celebrated milestones for precious people in my life, walked their disappointments, shared their tears, loved their intimacy and drank too much coffee listening and talking in safety. Old friends are never replaced by new ones – those early loves still burn so brightly in my soul. Yet new friends bring new life!

There have been attempts at new things – running my first race – combating the frustration of injury, training with people who are now more than running buddies but friends who understand the suffering of a hill but when done together somehow makes us even closer than before we started the run. Who would have thought that sweat and pain could bring new friends and new understanding?

My morning coffee tasted simultaneously with my devotions – journal open before me has brought me moments of manna from heaven. Transcending the tiny seat I occupy in the window of the same café I have frequented for years have been whispers to my soul from the unseen God who I dared to call Father more often this year than before.

Disappointment and joy are held in the palm of each of my hands – I try to let the disappointment pass through one yet hold the joy tightly for as long as I can in the other. My tears and laughter both giving me comfort in this year that was.

Married thirty years this year to the girl of my youth who continues to amaze, bewilder, surprise and tolerate me after all these years. The measure of my love for her now unable to be put into words for fear of dishonouring the duration of time. Four children still under our roof – each tender in my heart, each fills me with pride, each fiercely independent, each faith filled, each a genuine joy and each my friend.

Trust faith and hope still abide in me – my trust in God giving me peace to look around and hopefully with wisdom see things clearly not marred by hurt, pain, loss or insecure envy.

Even now as I write – memory comes, fades, magnifies and haunts me yet I look forward to 2011 as I have never looked forward to a new year before. Yet in the midst of what always seems to be a manic year may I be able to take time – yes take time to love extravagantly, explore further, enjoy longer, forgive easier, think deeply and run further and faster.

2010 the year that was – 2011 the year that is yet to be – honestly can’t wait!

John Adams was a great man by all definitions – a signatory and passionate advocate to the Declaration of Independence, deeply caring and compassionate man, excellent leader, diligent beyond measure and a committed Christ follower. His son John Quincy Adams became the sixth President of the USA.

Most of what we know about John Adams is from the thousands of letters he hand wrote and these letters have been preserved. He wrote to friends and foe alike articulating views, encouraging, putting forth ideas and telling his story.

It seemed as it Adams was able to think deeply about ideas through his writing. He would debate and reason with his correspondents about those ideas.

As I read this voluminous work – loving every single page it dawned on me that the ability to think through deeply about ideas and then be prepared to debate them is now a lost art. Do we think deeply any more? Are we capable of debating ideas as opposed to debating personalities?

Does the busyness of life produce a superficiality of ideas?

Does this produce a ‘herd mentality’ that we follow the loudest voice?

Does this lead to a cloning of ideas as opposed to an originality of thought?

John Adams thought deeply about issues then formed well thought through convictions, which he based his life on. Sometimes this placed him at odds with his friends yet his life was always a conviction based life.

I want to be able to think deeply, think wisely, think intelligently and think astutely. Then, from that depth of thought, be able to reason articulately based on conviction.

Sometimes magazines ask those people that they feature – ‘Who would you invite to dinner if you could?’ I think I would add John Adams to my list – I would welcome the conversation around that table. Just a thought!

It immediately reminded me that on the 17 December each year it is the anniversary of the Wright brother’s 120 foot flight, which occurred in 1903. The first manned flight made the two brothers the fathers of modern aviation. Who would have thought that the huge planes of today – dare I say the A380’s, would owe their existence to this 120 foot flight decades ago.

Haven’t we come such a long way since then? The flimsy flying machine of 1903 to the streamlined planes of today!

The ability of the human race to think, create, dream and generate substantial results that originate from a single thought is truly remarkable. Human creativity is limitless in some respects. Modern planes, space travel, medical phenomenon’s, scientific breakthroughs and who knows what else?

I was suddenly inspired again to be far more creative, think larger, dream higher, extend my vision and believe for greater things. Our capacity for enlarging the sphere of our creativity and thought are without measure.

The Wright brothers dreamt of flight!

What will you dream afresh today for? Take courage, exercise faith, think bravely, act wisely and beyond anything else know that when dreams are concerned God is ever faithful because he is the one who places those huge dreams within you.

Dream again – go on, dream again! Please I beg of you – dream again!

Although 5.30 am, it was still quite hot – well, if you are running up a hill numerous times I suppose it would be hot but the sweat flowed freely as did the heavy breathing of my companions in pain.

I looked at my watch – huge mistake – as I realized we were only halfway through the session. Each sprint up the hill seems like the hill was both growing miraculously in length and gradient.

Then something happened that took me by surprise – it was not that everyone was not both friendly and encouraging because the group is like that. However each of us was working so hard up this hill people around us seemed a blur, all of us struggling to run as fast as possible to the top of the hill and get sufficient breath back on the return down the hill to do it again.

As I ran up the hill with one of my fellow ‘inductees onto the hill of pain’, she said to me ‘Well done – that was a great run!’ That one comment really made a difference to me.

In the midst of this woman’s pain going up the hill she encouraged me. I suddenly felt stronger, I wanted to try harder, my legs felt a little better and once again I realized the power of encouragement.

I must admit in the midst of my pain I am often too self absorbed to see anyone else in any form of pain. Yet someone did and I was the recipient. It is somewhat easy, I think, to encourage when all is well in your life but to encourage when you yourself are walking through the valleys is quite another thing.

Yet the power of it is priceless. Sometimes out of the pain we speak words of pain and hurt yet the truly gracious among us still speak words of life and encouragement in the midst of their pain. That is I suspect the truest test of inner selflessness and great character. That encouragement made my day!

The reports are rather decrepit, yellowing and slightly water damaged. At first I just couldn’t open them, as I knew what to expect. As the son of a politician at that time and with a fairly considerable chip on my shoulder, the comments from teachers would have been note worthy to say the least.

Finally I opened the first report card – teacher’s names suddenly made way for faces as memories of them came to me. Then the comments and I certainly was not surprised by what I read.

“Some of Mark’s subjects are still not up to expectation”

“Apart from better subjects Mark’s problem appears to be his own attitude. Only he can change this.”

“At times he finds it easier to move with the group rather than stand out as the strong determined individual he really is.”

“Lacks a serious approach.’

Those remarks were made 34 years ago – how time flies! I must have improved, albeit slightly, because I was admitted to QUT where I studied and completed a Bachelor of Laws. In fact out of a starting year of 120 only 18 of us finished our degree in the prescribed 4 years.

In hindsight the difference was a teacher – she was young and perhaps I was infatuated by her but she would not tolerate any of my rubbish. I remember her name Denise Frost – she taught me Ancient History. Most other teachers yelled at me when I misbehaved but Mrs Frost did something different. She gently took me aside and told me that I was better than the particular act of behaviour that I was in trouble for. I can recall to this day some of the phrases she used to encourage my potential. Yelling didn’t concern me as it only made me a hero in the eyes of the peer group. Somehow in watching me she discovered gentleness over a loud aggressive voice was the way to my potential.

I changed – what caused her to take the time to discover the very thing that would cause me to pay attention and release the discovery as to who I was and who I was meant to be?

There is a soft spot in my heart for those who hide their enormous potential beneath the scars of their past and current circumstances. When I am tempted to write them off I think of a young teacher who discovered a way to a rebellious wounded young man’s soul and as a result the potential within was revealed for all to see.

Where ever you are now Mrs Frost – thank you!

It was fantastic – we drove the Great Ocean Road in Victoria together. An experience, to be honest, that I will never forget!

One of the things we did was to visit Erskine Falls near Lorne. Even though it was bitterly cold and raining Nicholas and I climbed down the pathway of stairs and saw the truly magnificent sight of these falls.

There is a viewing station at the bottom where you look up at the falls – photos are taken and the platform makes it quite safe. Yet as I stood there I noticed something that I didn’t expect. The falls are in quite pristine country and beautiful picturesque surroundings provide the backdrop. It is creation at it’s best!

Yet on every part of the viewing platform people had carved their initials or names. Not a single aspect was not anointed with the marks of human hands. People obviously had taken knives of all sorts to the bottom of the falls where this platform was located and carved their mark.

I looked at the names. Why would you do such a thing? Is this a case where our instinct and desire to make a mark has gone to the extreme? I do think we were created to make a mark but sometimes in an endeavour to do just that we tend to do things that are excessive, destructive, damaging and just plain wrong.

For me, I learnt a lesson that day at Erskine Falls – even though I want to make my mark I need to constantly be mindful of crossing that line between healthy desire and destructive conduct. Sometimes it is, methinks, a fine line but once crossed it is like the carved names on the timber platform – scars are left. I don’t want to be the cause of other people’s scars because of a craving to make a mark.

Recently I was sitting in a café and there were a group of ladies sitting at a table near me. This is not an uncommon sight yet what happened next was for me at least, somewhat unusual. As they talked the noise level started to get increasingly louder. In fact people at near by tables were shifting tables to get away from the noise.

It was impossible not to hear what they were saying. Each one of them was getting louder as they aggressively, with a rather colourful turn of phrase, criticised their husbands, relatives, schools where their children attended, individual teachers, life in general and other people that seemed to get on the wrong side of this bunch of women.

The more they criticised the louder it became.

Finally I too had enough – not necessarily at the level of noise but the level of criticism. Like many other customers I left the café.

For some reason I couldn’t get this scene out of my head. I started to think about the role of noise in our lives. Now I know you are thinking, ‘This boy has way too much time on his hands!

Over the years I have observed, it seems that the most vocal get all the attention. The one with the loudest opinion dominates the room. The one who complains the loudest gets action. The one who whinges the loudest gets the sympathy. The vocal minority gets their own way yet they are really only exactly that – a minority!

However I have also observed that those who exercise few words and who are often silent usually are people who work the hardest, volunteer the most, endure hardship with dignity, serve with distinction, rarely are offended, are comfortable with who they are, love life, enjoy the shadows, don’t need constant approval and recognition and display a depth of character that doesn’t need words to identify.

Perhaps the lesson for me is to value the silent among us – they are worthy of respect, recognition and honour. When they do speak they are people well worth listening too. I also thought how noisy am I and should I lower the level not just of the noise but of what actually I am saying.

I am about to join a new running group – I am thankful that a friend has joined me so I am not alone but it is still one of those moments where you are unsure of what will happen next.

I get out of the car and approach the waiting group. Typical runners – all moving from leg to leg and some are stretching muscles that in a few minutes will be screaming.

Then it happened – the leader of the group immediately extends his hand and welcomes me. Other runners say hello and the ice is broken. My reaction at this point even though I have not yet run one single metre is that this is a friendly bunch AND that I like them.

In the back of my mind is another immediate thought and it is that I will be back. Now this thought shocks me a little as I haven’t trained with them – I know nothing of their training techniques but their friendliness has made an impression. As the training commences I note that the group is continuing that friendliness and I find myself telling people why I am here and hearing their running experiences as well.

Yes I’ll be back!

As I thought about this I realized that it was the group itself that is the reason I’ll be back. The training is great but the group is friendly.

I can’t help but put on my Pastor’s hat. If I was new to Ipswich Region Community Church, would there be a friendliness of spirit that attracted me to think about coming back even prior to the actual church service taking place?

Being an introvert – a committed ‘cave dweller’ I find it so easy to talk to the people I feel comfortable with – you know what I mean – those with like interests, like values, like ideals and similar tastes and as a result I allow no one new into ‘my world’.

I learnt a lesson at my new running group – a simple yet profound lesson – be friendly. It is actually more important than the actual activity – be it that actual run or church itself – it is the friendliness that is attractive. It is the friendliness that draws people back. One word makes the difference – ‘Welcome’.