The truth is, if who I am becomes more important here than who God is, then I'm failing to do what I have set out to achieve. You can find the 'real' me on "Facebook" or "RedBubble" but here, well, this is where I come to reflect what's in my heart, and that is God and the hope He gives through His truth and love.
My journey begins:
Broken and at the point of wanting to commit suicide, not wanting to live in a world without love anymore, I realised I had one of two choices: I either commit suicide or cry out to God.
Due to the fact that I was a single mum [deliberately, let it be said], I knew I would never take my child with me in an act of suicide, and I couldn't leave her behind - and that because I knew no one would ever love her as I do. So, my last resort was God.
Sitting upon the steps of my Government-appointed house one night, at the age of 26 and during the depths of depression and frustration, I looked up at the full moon and thought, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if that was the face of God watching over us..." then promptly prayed, "God, if you're there, I've had enough of this bullshit. Help..."
That night, when I went to bed, and not knowing it was the thing to do, I asked that God would forgive everything I had ever done to Him and to others, and that He would forgive everyone who had ever harmed me in any way. Actually, truth be told, at that time in my life, I believed God was an ogre, a right grump, who waited for me to slip up so He could discipline me with a vengeance. Man, was I wrong... However, at the time, that's what I had been conditioned to believe and I asked Jesus to talk to God for me. Jesus I trusted. Jesus I knew was gentle of heart and would never reject me. I wasn't so sure about God.... Through the intimate relationship I now share with God, I know differently. But more on that later... :)
That night, after seeking Jesus to speak to God on my behalf - which, in a way, is what He does - and repenting with an earnest heart, I was given an image of a massive chain. I looked and saw a broken link, suddenly aware that the chain was God's, and the broken link was me. I watched as the broken link - as I was renewed and hooked back into God and His family, and the love He pours through such a 'chain'. God's forgiveness was instant. It was painless. I had asked God that He would wipe the slate clean for me and help me start again. He did... without one act of vengeance. It was like being born again, but without any mess or pain. Just love, mercy and acceptance. I can still sense Him smiling over this reunion. :)
Two days after I cried out to God, having pushed aside my prayer and repentance, I was walking through a dead-end lane with one of my sisters. Sharyn and I had been at our grandparents' place, where we were lunching with our grandparents, our mum, and our aunt, and had decided to walk up to the shops for one reason or another. To do this, we left the dead-end street our grandparents lived in, entered the street we grew up in - prior to the falling apart of our family several years earlier - and headed off through a lane where I used to go to Sunday School twenty years earlier. (see map below)
You could walk through this "dead-end" lane, to make your way up to the main shops of Wyong, but you could not drive through it. On our return walk, at the back of where I used to attend Sunday School twenty years earlier, a car came towards Sharyn and I, and I was stunned to see that it was the only Christian I knew, whom I had not seen, nor spoken to, in over 12 months.
Dean [Waters; former Australian heavyweight boxing champion] just happened to have one day's work in Owen Ave (again, see map below) - the street in which our family had lived for many years - which leads towards the dead-end lane my sister and I were walking through. At that precise moment, he just happened to stop work and head off to get some lunch, not knowing you could not drive through that lane. Long story short, though I had cried out to God for help a couple of nights earlier, in the light of a new day I had set that aside and grabbed hold of my old friend anger to help me through the day. Anger stood before me as Dean started speaking to us... Dean was the only Christian I knew, the only one who had ever really spoken to me about God, and the one I had once told to shove the Bible.
I had been a painfully shy child, and that insecurity and timidity had not left me. So, rather than use the anger aching to spit forth out of my soul, I politely listened to what Dean had to say, and politely accepted his offer for him and his wife to come visit me that night. When he drove off, I instantly started cursing myself for giving him my address.
That night they came, and I sat there with my cigarettes and attitude and we spoke about God and whatnot. They offered to take me to church the following Sunday evening. I didn't want to, yet, I agreed to it out of politeness... while inside I seethed.
The following Sunday, as I was getting ready to go to church, dressed in jeans and a black jumper with leather patches and tassels, with my long hair frizzed up as much as the weight of it allowed, I stood before my bathroom mirror, damning myself for agreeing to go with them, and, as I used one hand to hold my cigarette and the other to darken the lines about my eyes, I hissed, "Fine! I'll go! But if one person points their finger at me, I'm out of there and I ain't ever going back...!" [It must be noted, that when I said that, there were a few choice expletives mixed in there, that I have refrained from repeating here. :) ]
That Sunday night, as I entered the huge factory bay that was being used as a church, holding my breath, and anger, and waiting to be damned, for the first time in my entire life I felt like I belonged. I felt like I was home... And then my journey with God truly begun...
In the pages of my website, I share not what someone has preached, not what I've read, but what I have lived. I write from the heart. I write from experience. I write not of a path I want you to follow, but of a path I've walked, and of all God has spoken to me along the way, that has brought healing and freedom to my heart.
I am not here to preach to you. I am not a preacher. I am not here to teach you anything. I am not a teacher. I come solely with the desire to give of what God has given me: Hope, healing, love, grace, mercy, peace, joy, freedom, and so much more.
In writing, I share not an idea borne of viewing the life or the statement or the writings of another. I share what I have lived. I find it very difficult to listen to anything anyone has to say unless they have lived it, so I prefer not to write that way... Having said that, I do like to write short stories, but these are also conceived by personal revelation and experience, in one way or another.
In short: I come with my heart in my hands, held out before you, offering you love and hope through it... It's totally up to you whether or not you take from it. :)
All my sincere love,
- The floppy X at the top of Owen Ave is my old family home.
- The X alongside Ingram St is where my mother's parents lived for many years.
- The X to the side of Pauline Lane is (roughly) where I attended Sunday School 20 years prior to calling out to God with a repentant heart. You can see that the road stops at the back of Wyong Memorial Hall - and that because cars cannot get through, but you have free access on foot.
- 4. Note the balloon with an A in it was from when I Googled Owen Ave and I couldn't figure out how to get rid of it. :)