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Available for over a year

A state of emergency now exists in two Australian states - New South Wales and Victoria - as thousands continue to flee their homes from bush fires. As we watch pictures of terrible devastation to people and wildlife, it’s hard to think how and when this will end. We’ve become used to seeing images of people fleeing their homes because of war and conflict. In the last decade alone we witnessed the flow of refugees from the Middle East and North Africa travelling on small boats and on foot across perilous waters and borders. Whole populations crossing continents desperately seeking escape and shelter. But fires and floods are also common in many parts of the world and have always forced people to seek refuge elsewhere. Displacement transforms lives and landscapes but also forces people to search for new security and imagine a new home. I sometimes wonder when did home become embedded in human consciousness as a place of both longing and belonging. Having a home is something we take for granted until it’s taken away. Our sense of home is of a place that’s about more than physical protection; we associate home with love, family and memory, familiarity. And when everything else can seem strange, home remains the one constant in our lives. And yet sadly for many, right now home is first and foremost simply a search for physical safety, for basic shelter. I’ve never had to run for my life, leaving all my belongings because of conflict or extreme weather. I’ve been fortunate and am grateful for the familiarity and constancy of home. The Qur’anic verses `which of your Lord’s blessings will you deny? ’ are a reminder that all that surrounds me in my daily life is a blessing and that gratitude isn’t about giving something back to God, it’s a feeling of reverence and appreciating the fullness and fragility of life. But from the other side of the world we hear now the anger and frustration of many desperate Australians who feel let down by their government, accusing it of not taking seriously enough the threat of climate change. Homes, livelihoods and whole landscapes have gone and while some might find solace in simply surviving, for others the destruction of their houses means nothing will be the same again, because everything familiar has gone; the reality is overwhelming. It seems to me that as we enter the new year, when many talk of making changes and setting goals, we should also be grateful for all those things which don’t change, and which remain constant in our lives.