Tuesday, 20 March 2012


Have you ever done something that you felt ill-prepared to do, yet you knew it was your duty? As part of a church outreach, a few members and I sang Christian songs to patients at a hospital. It seemed like a good idea at first but, as you can read from this excerpt from my upcoming How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity memoir, the novelty wore off quickly.


Apprehension nagged me as we trooped into the hospital the next Saturday afternoon. Institutions seem to exude an atmosphere of perpetual hopelessness. I experienced more than enough of that at Jericho.

Sister Eileen led the way as we walked down the hall to the nurse's station. Having received her permission, we stepped into the first room.

"Excuse us," Sister Eileen ANNOUNCED, "We're Christians and we'd like to sing a few songs for you. Is that all right?"

One patient said "Yes," but the rest of the patients ignored us.

We sang several hymns and then walked to the next room, doing the same there.

As the weeks passed, I became disenchanted with our hospital visits. All I did was stand with the others and sing. Though nobody complained about our presence, I had the impression that the patients tolerated, rather than appreciated, our efforts.

As we sat around the card table before one Bible study in March, Sister Eileen announced, "We're going to have to discontinue our hospital visits."

"How come?" I wondered.

"We've got too many things to do on Saturdays and nobody seems interested anymore."

I considered her answer for several seconds, then replied, "I suppose that's all right. I don't really want to go anymore either."

"It's settled then, Sister Roberta concluded, "There won't be any more visits."


How I Was Razed is the testimony of how God revealed his true character to me after charismatic house church elders misled me for more than fifteen years. You're welcome to contact me directly for more information about this upcoming paperback.

1 comment:

  1. This reminded me of the work I did at the nursing home for years. Often, I took my guitar from room to room and played and sang for residents who couldn't or wouldn't attend group activities. Unlike your church group, I realized that people liked a variety of music, and I made every attempt to learn and sings songs that residents wanted to hear. Some wanted just religious music while others liked a mix of sacred and secular songs. I did this for fifteen years and felt rewarded most of the time.


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