MISSED THE BOAT?
FOR AS LONG as I can recall I have felt compelled to write. Over the decades I have responded to that compulsion in quite fragmented ways: news correspondent in the highlands of Papua New Guinea; ghost writing; co-author of several memoirs; editor of a state denominational publication; writing my autobiography; and many attempts at establishing my blog, now called Authentic Christian Living. Looking back I can see where not only have I been the mistress of procrastination, but it seemed that I had missed the boat in regards to what was God’s call on my life to “Write the vision!”
When I first heard that call as a young mother in the wild frontier town of Mount Hagen in Papua New Guinea’s Western Highlands, I believed God would immediately use me in a mighty way. Instead he took me on an incredibly agonising journey to hell and back, one that eventually—half a century later—has brought me to a place of deep peace and contentment, reminiscent of the words of the Psalmist:
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance (Psalm 16:6).
A DIFFERENT BOAT
AS I SET about the prolonged, painful process of healing my bruised and broken being, I had to contend with the pervasive belief that I had failed God. I had missed the boat in regard to my writing, and I needed to set it aside. After all, who did I think I was that God would use me in his vast scheme of things?
I began a career in social work and allowed that to take me on a fascinating journey that was rich in experiences of walking alongside many wonderful, courageous and precious people. Some were mental health clients, some palliative care and their families; some ageing, others young; and many, with a whole gamut of challenges, lived in the Outback. I loved my work, but with my own needs pressing in upon me it was time to leave that career and return to my twice-aborted retirement. Waiting for me was my writing.
Here I am, now in my seventies, pen poised and ready to write for my God.
Had I missed the boat?
Yes – and “NO”!
When I reflect upon my life with all its twists and turns, the challenges I have had to face including the death of my precious granddaughter, and the agonising grief of a cruelly divided family that threatened to destroy me, I know that what I believed was right, was not what God had in mind for me at the time. Instead, over the decades he has kept me in the palm of his hands, embracing me with his love, protecting me—often from my own stupidity—and bringing me into a safe harbour, one in which I have my faith and hope firmly anchored in him (Hebrews 6:19).
A boat does await me here, but it is not the one I thought it would be. It is a different boat, one that I am far more prepared to board than I have ever been in the past.
I have grown and developed so much since that first call to “Write the vision!”, so many decades ago. There would have been something seriously wrong if I hadn’t! Now, in these my latter years, I am more than ready to embark on this part of my journey. It will bring together aspects of the rich, exciting, fulfilling and rather challenging life I have had, which God will use for those who are going through similar rough times. This is a different boat—but it’s looking good. It really is. The words of his call made to me so many years ago remain crystal clear:
“Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so he may run who reads it.
For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow; wait for it; it will surely come; It will not delay (Habakkuk 2:2-3).
I first moved to Charleville in 2005, stayed for about two years before returning to Brisbane where I retired in 2009. Retirement did not suit me and I moved back to Charleville in 2014 where I worked for another two years before again attempting to retire. On both occasions personal circumstances prompted my return to the city. In 2018 I returned to the Outback for a month’s holiday, staying with friends in Quilpie and Charleville. I was genuinely surprised to be told by many people how much I had been missed, how much I had been appreciated in the work I had done. However, I wasn’t ready to hear what they were saying.
Outback, I do so with the desire to follow my Lord and Master and to do as he directs: To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with my God. In the process of doing that I am also reminded of his admonition that we are to love one another, just as he has loved each one of us and has given his life for us.
My heart and soul rejoice in the wonder of who God is—his awesomeness, power and might, his love, grace and mercy. The greatness of his vast creation, the gentleness of his individual care and concern for each of his creatures.
hear his promises to be with those who are bruised and broken, understand that he does not condemn them for hurting, being vulnerable, feeling foolish for being in situations that led to their distress and for which they were not responsible.
shattered. I had to pick through jagged shards, try to make some sense of the dreadful consequences of what that man had done, and begin the slow process of trying to rebuild my faith. It was a terrible time. Now, with the resultant early crises settled, I need to reconsider my understanding of church and where—if anywhere—I might belong.
psychiatric hospital had become my second home. My challenges were far too complex for any church to manage, and I had to leave. Eventually, with the rubble of my life settling I tried to reconnect with a faith community. So far it has been a futile exercise, one that has brought much hurt, angst and despair. Churches of all denominational persuasions have made it so difficult for newcomers to feel welcome; the iciness of some has been distressing. So what am I looking for in a church?
people have about God. Many still hold the view of him that they had in Sunday School, a benevolent old man in the sky meting out blessings to those who were good and punishing those who were bad. Others see him as a “resident policeman” making sure they obey the myriad rules placed upon them, while others understand God as the “managing director” of their lives making decisions for them and taking away any responsibility for what they determine to be “God’s will”. Many others have placed God in a box that has been created by their brand of Christianity, Protestant or Catholic, or by their individual life story. None of those concepts, Phillips states, is adequate when one experiences the challenges of today’s society—and he was writing more than sixty years ago!
The message of salvation begins and ends with God. God is love. God loves me with an unconditional, welcoming love that accepts me just as I am—just as I was when I first met him and began to understand something of who he was and is. Just as I was in the mire of my life when chaos ruled, when my faith in him was as fragile as that of a lost lamb who had wandered far from her Shepherd’s care, when my anger at what others had done to me through their atrocious abuse, betrayals, lies and the distortion of God’s truth raged. God loves me. And because God loves me with that pure, unadulterated love—unconditionally and with no holds barred—I want to love him back, and love others in that same exquisitely perfect way. 