THE WINNER GAVE IT ALL GIVEN YOUR ALL - NOW WHAT ? HOME ISBN 0 9577 426 7 3 CHAPTER 6 Written/published 1/6/08-6/6/08
6. ONE won in a cross
An hour or so after finishing the first draft of the previous chapter my wife and I attended church. I had finished with this challenge to you, the reader:
Friends, God wants to make YOUR life, no matter how big your problem is, no matter how unworthy and unloved you may feel, an object lesson for HIS glory.
Let HIM !
The subject of this morning's visiting speaker's sermon could not have fitted better: "Reflect God's glory - Who me?
Friends, at the time I written this I had no idea what was going to be preached at Enfield on Sunday 1.6. God knew! In the back of my mind I had even contemplated going to another church, but obeyed my wife, who preferred us to attend our regular service.
(There are rare occasions when obeying one's wife may mean obeying God. But don't tell Adam).
You didn't know Baptists had Priests?
Allan is 'Hi Priest' of South Australia's Baptists (SABU), not to be confused with South African Buddhist's Union.
Jokes aside - the person we bought our present house from had originally moved from New Zealand to South Australia. He addressed his boxes to Adelaide, SA. They ended up in South Africa!
(Back to Melbourne, Victoria, Australia)
Had the weather on Saturday 17/5/08 been sunny the broken spoke on my Wheeler bicycle would have been a real nuisance. But it wasn't two-wheeler weather. The maximum temperature hardly reached double digits; definitely nowhere near 17.5.
I had no real plans for that morning. The only engagement that day was the conference at Wantirna, scheduled from 1 - 6 PM.
(Hey, 1 6 are the digits for today's date, June 1st. Since these two digits already have made a dramatic entry into my sphere of numbers at 6 AM this morning, let's not step into the rain just yet!
For the first time in a year or so I watched the Mass For You At Home, broadcast from Melbourne on Channel Ten. A few minutes into the program a gentleman rendered the bible reading (Baptists just read the bible, Anglicans and Catholics do it with more reverence, they render it).
That morning at 6.10 or so, I was distracted from God's Holy Word. The reader was wearing a very colourful tie. Three distinct sections in it showed coloured dots. Since I was watching on a larger than normal screen I could count the dots; 3 at the top, 6 in the middle and 1 at the bottom.
Later I emailed the program. I don't know what the recipient thought when I suggested that the bible reader was wearing a holy tie, 3.1 and 6 dots as in John 3, 16?
In the PS came a little extra magic, the numbers 6 and 1(0) again. In my message I thanked the mass makers, for a better word, for being so faithful since 1361, sorry 1971. (The program's website had stated that they had been on air since 1971).
The figure 1361 just pooped up for fun. Only afterwards did I deduct one from the other and voila - the difference 61(0).
OK, it's not the 10th today, but my motto is: Don't be tooo perfect, just perfect will d.
Less than an hour after this 61 fun came another. Within the hour I noticed, parking our Suzuki at the church carpark, a NSW registered van. Inside the church we happened to sit right near these visitors from Yass. The van's registration plate was N 61...
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(Back to Melbourne)
So what does one do on a rainy morning in a far away city, where you virtually know no one? After brewing my coffee and mixing my oats with milk, I chatted with a young couple from Lyon, France. Another gentlemen, more my age, looked like he had a lot on his mind. He didn't want to chat or take the pocket size Gospel of St. John, I offered him.
Then I remembered the Men's Breakfast. I knew I would be struggling to make it for the 7 am start. But if I were to find the place promptly, I could make it for the 9 am session.
The topic that morning - Relationships between men and women - did not sound all that exciting. Not that I claim to know it all in that area. But after 37 years marriage a man knows that two magic words are a cure for most marital conflicts - Yes dear!
(Adam had learned these very early on in his marriage. And remember men, everything we inherited came from Adam.
Having followed the very out-of-date MELWAY (Melbourne Street Directory) I ended up in Chadstone, when I was meant to be in East Burwood. The only consolation was that Vision Street Chadstone was J shaped.
I was on the verge of giving up, when I decided to drive to the short distance to East Burwood and ask somebody there. Somebody would know where Crossway Church is, since it is a rather large one.
On Burwood Road I noticed a small sign: To ... Chinese Church. It did not sound like my destination, but I turned into this street anyway. In the distance a white Ute had its lights on. I reasoned that I could ask for directions to Crossways, and alert these people about the lights at the same time.
Getting closer to the Ute I read his registration plate - 360 (I just noticed - plus 1 ...?). A small red hatchback carried rego ... 822. I walked down the steep driveway, careful not to slip in the wet, and knocked on the door. In no time did the gentleman find Vision Place in his latest directory and told me where to go.
Driving away I had an awesome sensation - I was meant to be there! My amazement was enforced as I read the house number I had just been to - 177.
Flyer for Men's Breakfast 17/5
The word cross surfaced again. Super! The location (Warehouse) also has a certain US ring to it.
The logo looks very much like one I had seen on Henley Beach Road (Chapter 1).
I arrived very late at the correct place, Vision Place. As I had expected, I had missed most of the 'How-to-best-say-yes-dear' seminar. My mind wasn't on women's business, anyway. The two names of the men I had met on entering the hall, called Warehouse Cafe, had me occupied.
The first one was the person at the registration desk. His name, which I read on his name-tag included these LEE / TAI / HIM. Only on preparing this writing did I remember that a year earlier at Wantirna, a few minutes drive away, I had had an encounter with a man, Mr. Lee. (He had given me a ride home in the end).
The second name, which had me thinking, was Hunt. As it happened I had sat right beside the gentleman at the Crossway Warehouse Cafe. The very next day did the name Hunt echo once again, after I felt led to visit another church. It nearly blew me over, read on.
Listening to the speaker for the final twenty minutes of his talk, I somewhat regretted not having made the effort to prepare properly and be there for both sessions. The gentleman had not only a nice surname (on above flyer it's shown as Cherry, not visible) but also was a professional soccer player in his younger days.
Since I didn't know anybody and all seemed busy packing up, I exchanged a few words with Mr. Hunt and Mr. TAI / Lee / Him and left.
There were still three hours until the beginning of the Radio Bible Class Seminar at Wantirna. Having left that morning in a bit of a hurry I had not showered or shaved yet. I drove back towards Melbourne, for a possible brief visit to the famous Melbourne Markets, before a shower at the Hostel.
On the way along Burwood Road at a traffic light a real estate sign had only two words on it: LOVE Auction. Isn't love the most beautiful word in the English language? Auction is a good word too, but action is better. Shake it all and voila: U love action. (This came much later). There was nothing else on the sign, so I decided to backtrack and take a look.
I turned into Hillside Pde and Van Ness Av, where a huge odd-looking vehicle was parked on the narrow road. As children we used to play with metal toys of these all-terrain, all-drive, all-everything recreation vehicles. I can't recall ever having seen one since leaving Germany. The name of the Mercedes-built vehicle is UNIMOG.
To a German speaking reader, this little foolishness makes sense: U.N.I.LIKE (Mag is German for to like. (Hey something just came - didn't the word Like feature in a recent chapter?)
At the eastern end of Van Ness Av. I had to turn left. The road didn't continue into Denman Av. I needed to head north anyway to reach the place, where I had seen the Love Action, sorry Love auction sign.
LOVE IN AUCTION
(Please nobody think I am receiving any kind of favour for displaying signs, such as this one, I just love doing IT.
I didn't go to the auction. I already have a mansion, just over the hilltop, where the streets are paved with purest gold !
The last digit in the phone number I blanked out. My playful brain imagined a few things:
1. If the first digit (9) were to do a U-turn and placed itself after the 4, we'd arrive at 468, the date I am editing this. 228 comes next ...
2. The House number 1/1 is a mirror-image of N.
3. No. 1 (God) won (in a cross in Wantirna VIC).
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Wheelers Hill 3150
During editing I researched in the Melway (Edition 21, 91/92). Only six kilometres south of Wantirna I noticed a suburb, named after my bicycle - Wheeler - and the digits for my birth date - 3150.
Other data spooked me just a little. A large Park at Wheeler's Hill is called Jells Park. Friend's that's weird, but true, I had been gob smacked by a Parking meter during one of my Melbourne stints - No. JE 1 (Read on for more JE I).
Plus the ever present street names: Wilton, Buxton, Darlington. Draper Square near Beaumont Pl.
Homestead Drive linked most tragic, sorry tragically: Homestead Drive was the name of a road, where a young man and his friend died in a car crash: Here is what I had discovered during his funeral Service (Book 1, Ch. 43)
"Ben’s father spoke of the tragedy that happened on Thursday. Thursday? I suddenly realized that Thursday was August 22nd, or 22.8"
- - - - - - -
As you can see, friends, my world of codes extended well beyond Adelaide. If I were to mention all the codes I put into my diary each day, it would exceed your Da Ninci tolerance limit.
The Seminar at Wantirna Church of Christ, only a few minutes from the LOVE Auction, started 10 minutes late at 1.10 PM. Perhaps this was the reason it finished 1 hour early, around 5 PM, despite being schedules for 6 PM. I never found out, if I had wrong information, or why the seminar ended early.
The speaker, Bill Crowder, very skilfully worked through chapter by chapter, explaining that Jonah's failure was the stepping stone to his ultimate success. For this reason I could not understand, why his theme was The Failure of Success? Would Success in Failure not sound better to reflect what happened between God and Jonah? His failure God turned into Success.
In her book 'What the bible is all about' Henrietta Mears actually makes Jonah a hero, albeit a misguided one. She writes (Page 301) that Jonah figured that Nineveh could be useful in defeating the Assyrians, who were Israel's dreaded enemies. If they were to repent from their evil acts, they may not attack the Assyrians, leaving Israel exposed the threat of the Assyrians.
Sounds like Jonah would make a great politician, doing IT his way, not HIS way!
Mears also brings out aspects about Jonah, which I either did not hear at the Wantirna Seminar or they weren't mentioned. She compares Jonah with Israel (Page 303, Italics mine):
Jonah was called to a world mission. So was Israel.
Jonah refused to obey God in fulfilling his mission. So did Israel.
Jonah was punished, thrown into the sea. Israel was scattered.
Jonah was preserved. So was Israel.
Jonah repented and was cast out by the fish, to be restored for his mission. Israel shall be cast out by all nations and restored to her former position. (Please remember, Mears wrote this in the early 1950's. To this day Israel is being rejected by her neighbours).
Jonah, now obeying God's command, goes on his mission. Israel in obedience shall become a witness to all nations. (The Christian world is eagerly looking to Israel to fulfil this God ordained role - to fully reflect God's Glory).
Jonah was blessed in that Nineveh was brought to salvation. Israel shall be blessed in the conversion of the whole world. (God's ultimate plan).
- - - - - - -
Toward the end of the seminar I had been contemplating where to go for dinner that evening. I was missing Isobel's delicious dinners. Not consciously, but in the back of my mind, I prayed and knew God would be leading me to a place, the right place.
Unless I missed him in the 200+ strong crowd, it appeared Mr. Lee was not at the seminar. (He was the gentleman, who so kindly drove me back to my hostel the year before). Not that I would have invited myself to dinner. I may have considered inviting him to be my guest. I had 2 (two) cucumbers left, just kidding).
Victoria - 7 pieces of a jigsaw puzzle
VIC Tourist promotion: You'll love every piece of Victoria
As I slowly exited the carpark in my Suzuki it was raining heavier than in the morning. A lady was carrying a colourful umbrella. In letters so large, I could not ignore them, I read TIVOLI.
Aha, now I got IT ... VO...L ...I >>>> 50 50 1 >>>> L L I ( read on).
On the way from St. Kilda, driving by on Dandenong Road that morning, I had spotted the German Club, called TIVOLI. As soon as I saw the umbrella, Tivoli came to mind. It was diagonally across from the cemetery.
What happened next was pure magic. I can't recall if I had the radio on, or turned it on after seeing the umbrella. All I remember hearing an ad on radio within seconds of the umbrella. I can't even recall what product the ad was for, only that the brand name was, or sounded like, TIVOLI.
Sounds foolish, friends, but guess where I ate a Bratwurst with mustard and potato salad? Opposite the cemetery!
I still had the letter in my pocket, written the day before, to deliver to the Channel Ten TV studio. I found out it was in South Yarra. It only took ten minutes to drive there. It was still raining as I found a parking space right on fashionable Toorak Road. I was hoping to just leave my letter at the reception or drop it into a letterbox. Still no luck that day.
I got as far as pressing button 4 inside a lift in COMO House, to take me to the 4th floor. Nothing moved. I pressed the 4 again, a little harder. Still nothing. The doors had closed, but the lift stayed.
It got a little eerie, on my own, inside a lift that was not going anywhere. The number on the lift, no kidding, was Lift No. 15. But that was of little help, even when those digits have become your friend. Like the price of petrol, looking at Lift 15 did not make it go up.
May I side-track and mention petrol prices, which is on everybody's mind at present. Our new Labor Government is introducing legislation, a scheme called Fuel Watch. If I understood correctly, and I don't think so, some bureaucrats, all on a six--figure salaries, will be appointed to monitor fuel prices.
The opposition argued very well: "Watching fuel prices is not going to bring them down. (May be the smart pollie who came up with that argument was once stuck in lift No. 15, his favourite number?)
On a serious note, once before in my writing have I questioned the way petrol is costed. I used to be a cost clerk, early in my career (Aha, that may explain why numbers?)
I learned to calculate exactly what each component in our milling machines cost to manufacture or purchase. An amount was added to cover overheads etc. The final addition was a profit margin.
Many years later I learned more about business when I sold my visual aids for driving instructors. I learned a complete different philosophy about selling goods: Don't worry how little you can manufacture or buy a product for, sell it for as much as buyers are prepared to pay. In other words, price according to supply and demand.
The way petrol is priced, the madness goes one step further. Speculators push the price up by simple acting on anticipated demand, such as an alleged broken pipeline in Nigeria or Iraq, causing a possible shortage. Rumours of a broken oil-pipeline could become a gold-mine. What if there was no broken pipe line?
One word comes to mind - exploitation!
A final point on this serious subject. Wikipedia tells me a vehicle called 1898 Fischer Electric 1902 Orient (an electric car) is on display in a museum in Ontario, Canada. Why have the large motor companies not developed electric cars as alternative to gasoline? They had 110 years to do so?
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(Back to Melbourne)
Thank God that lifts have buttons which read DOOR OPEN! What a relief! I wished the doors of men's hearts would open at the press of a button.
Having come this far, nearly 800 kilometres, I didn't want to give up yet in delivering my letter. A lady had exited from the adjacent lift, so I tried that one. It also didn't move. I figured that the red light on the operation panel must mean that the 4th floor was out of bounds for the public at the time.
(Green lights are my forte. The very next morning I had opportunity to express this passion to the Vicar in church, read on).
My letter, I assumed, still has reached the 4th floor. It went up, possibly in lift 15, with a 50 cent stamp attached. I posted it.
For the first time in months, even years, I strolled in the rain, carrying an umbrella. The shops along Toorak Road are fairly up-market and a surprising number of people (517 approx.) were moving about.
I walked along Toorak Road as far as Darling Street and crossed the road. Right in front of me was the restaurant called FELLINI. (Two days ago on 4/6/08 - I walked past Fellini's in North Adelaide, also casually strolling. I saw ... (So much to report, more later, God willing).
Sorry to be repetitive, but at South Yarra, once again, parked cars and their numbers became the attraction. (After a few hundred numbers your mind goes numb).
Two vehicles were parked not far from my own, so I fetched my camera and took a photo. Initially all I noticed were the Ls on one registration plate, and the three digits of the date in front of it.
Two parked vehicles on Toorak Road ...PT 517 and ...I L L
I purposely covered the first letter in both plates, for privacy (and prefect match - see above, under the VIC puzzle pieces).
The silver car is a CIVIC, nice palindrome, for VIC.toria !
I had only minutes earlier left the Tivoli Club, before taking this photo.
Another surprise came while writing. Deduct doubled up letters in Tivoli and Civic, it leaves C LOT.
- - - - - - -
There had been another message on the radio. A song had played for a few minutes, while I was driving from the Tivoli Club to South Yarra.
Listening to the lyrics of a country-style song, played on Radio MP 1377, I was slightly concerned at what I heard; but also amused. Between writing this chapter, two weeks after the event, I emailed the radio station to tell them about the incident.
Email to Radio 3MP 1377, dated 1.6.08:Hi all,During a brief trip to Melbourne on 17/5 I tuned into your station in the evening around 6.45 or so. I had just come from a bible seminar at Wantirna that afternoon, where the book of Jonah was explained in great detail.You may understand, why I found the following lyrics, sung by a male voice at that time, badly timed and tasteless: ... The bible says Jonah was swallowed by the whale, it's not necessarily so ...Unless I misunderstood the song, it was mostly saying that because the bible says such and such, it's not necessarily so.Please take note that there are still people, who actually believe the bible. Why anybody would compose such a song, and your program director choose to play it that afternoon, I can not understand.One bit of magic happened, however. I was exiting the carpark of the church at Wantirna just after 5 PM, when I saw a lady carry a huge umbrella with TIVOLI written on it. I knew Tivoli was the name of the German Club. This gave me the idea, perhaps I ought to go for a meal there? A few seconds later, barely out of the carpark, on radio (possibly your station) I heard an ad for a product. Can't recall what it was, only that it was called TIVOLI. I went to Tivoli for a sausage. Because I say so, and I was there when it happened, it is necessarily so).Kind regards from AdelaideDieter FischerPS If you're scratching for easy-listening music, please email me. I could give you a long list of songs, which many in my age bracket, born around 1377, never tire of, from Como to Abba, from Murray to Last ...)
Please note, it was after I had joked, born around 1377, that I suddenly realized I had written an email that morning with the number 1361 (previous chapter). It didn't take Einstein to arrive at the date 16.
(I think all theology books should be re-written. Adam's forbidden fruit was not apples, it was - dates.)
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The next morning, Sunday 18.5, the weather had improved somewhat. It was the morning to drive from HOME back home, you know what I mean. Still, I wanted to go to church somewhere, possibly back to Crossways, where I had missed most of the men's breakfast the day before. I would have liked to be part of this large church in action.
Without real assurance that this was the place to go, I exited the carpark of HOME, the hostel. Looking to my left I noticed dark clouds in the direction of Burwood, but much brighter skies in west. It may sound strange, but I decided against driving east to Burwood East, but steered toward Albert Park and Melbourne's CBD.
In the back of my mind I was even considering Ballarat. There would be a congregation somewhere to worship with. But plans changed. Another address of a house for sale popped into my head, No. 144 R .... Street. The rain had stopped. I knew I was somewhere near the place, so I parked outside a school and took a walk.
On the road I saw a piece of cardboard with a price label on it. I had mostly given up picking stuff off footpaths. This was to be the last one, before retirement. Call me obsessed, that's OK. The barcode on the cardboard, which I since lost again, was wet and easy to remove.
The item number was 1805, a wall mirror from - how peculiar, I just see it - HOMEART. Not only was I at the time on the way home from HOME, I had earlier that week in our bathroom at home installed a wall mirror. (It really ISSO and it still hangs).
Back at my Suzuki I took a photo of the school sign, I had parked right under. Again, if you call me obsessed, or you may think I was bored, searching for excitement, I grant you half a point. As long as the other half searches for truth, honest truth, what IT is all about!
Left: MID PRIMA. The school's phone number are the digits 9613. The principle's name is Re .... all. I loved their slogan and the way IT came out:
..ne your brightest. (shi...)
The principle's Christian name came out as JENI. Totally unplanned when I scanned the photo. Once again, a close link to the Elizabeth Street parking meter I had discovered during a previous Melbourne trip in the Suzuki: JE 1 (What's left standing is N).
Extract from Book 3, Chapter 45: “What’s the serial number?” I asked him. He read it for me, JE 1! (I also read it with my own eyes). At that point I knew, there was a script, some players and I was the fill in. I had arrived at the right place."
Above right: Outside a Baptist Church during my Sunday morning walk:
What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God.. MIC 6.8
Unreal. I took these two photos, scanned them at random and only afterward see the left starts with MID, the right ends in MIC.
But there's more: Add 4 and the verse in Micah 4, 6-8 brings us back to apples again, sorry dates.
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Turning the radio dial to search for a Christian radio program, as I was driving from Albert Park toward Melbourne City, I actually found one. Why I see magic in everything, I don't know. Maybe, just maybe, there is an intelligent, sensitive human Spirit, on the same wavelength as God's Spirit, creating the wonder of it all?
The song on my driving-school website, the one Evie sings in the car-crash finale, suddenly enchanted my ears: "Jesus, I believe what you said ..."
I turned up the volume. How beautiful! Had I not on another occasion caught another, perfectly fitting song (Downtown, by Petula Clark), as I was driving from St Kilda to downtown Melbourne? I had found it so amusing, back then in 2005 and on May 18, 08.
Not only the song surprised, but the timing of it all. I became aware of the hour, as it was playing. It figured. If the song, which filled my ears was 2 minutes from the start, the DJ would have pressed the play button at 8.51 AM, and it wasn't even the 85th of Januart ...
(This was meant to be a joke, but ended in a genuine typing error, I shall leave it, magic after magic !!!)
Still undecided where to go to church I remembered a street name. It had sounded like Rye Street, when it came out of the TV one or two days prior. A fire had gutted a house in Rye Street, East Brunswick. Driving over the Yarra River bridge, past Spencer Street station, I decided to check out Rye Street..
There was no Rye Street listed in my ancient Melway in Brunswick. Blyth Street, Brunswick sounded the closest to it. So I drove there. I was looking for signs of a house fire in Blyth Street. I saw nothing. From experience I knew I was meant to be there, fire or no fire. (Later I had confirmation, it was the street where the fire had been).
Looking through the street map I saw a large green area, a park, at the eastern end of Blyth Street. Parks go well with toilets. But there was much more. The place was called CERES Project, an experimental park full of plants, trees, ponds etc.
I had thought the first two letters stood for the name of the founder, but CERES stands Centre for Education and Research in Environmental Strategies. The place 25 years ago used to be the Brunswick rubbish dump. It had been transformed in a project to study organic farming and alternative food production. Why on earth I am here for? I thought.
A small sign on a display board gave a brief history of the place, which I skipped over. The initials of the founder's name were CE. Both names had 5 letters. They spoke volumes - Chris Ennis.
Walking back to the car I found a handkerchief somebody had obviously lost. I placed it onto a tree. In an environmental park you can't walk by and leave rubbish on the ground.
Did God place that snipped of information (the report about the Rye St. fire) into my brain to bring me to Brunswick? If so, judging by the next place I felt led to, it would make sense.
It was now after 9. 30 am and I was still unsure, where to attend church. Slowly I drove west, back along Blyth Street. Still no sign of the fire. No, I wasn't obsessed with fire. I was not looking for a fire to get pleasure. (It's another kind of fire that gives me pleasure. I wished, it was burning already).
At the traffic lights with Sydney Road, facing me square on, was the unmistakable structure a historic church. It looked more like an Anglican or Catholic Church, but it said Baptist Church. A matured-aged man and woman stood outside the grey sand stone structure. I knew they'd be attending the church service later.
I parked the Suzuki on the street and investigated. Indeed there was a service starting at 10 AM.
Missing Cat - Corner Blyth Street / Sydney Road, Brunswick
The poor animal was only new to the area and somehow got lost. The owner placed this placard onto this pole with a plea for help.
Can you see how big the letters are: NAME NARMAN. Maybe they liked the name Norman, but the cat was female?
A few days later a thought came: When I pronounce Narman, I could be speaking German. It would sound exactly like the word Namen (Plural for name).
Hey, another clue, a new insight as I write! It would make sense! Perhaps, why names are important here? Do you recall how exactly 24 hours prior I was talking to Mr. Hunt at the men's breakfast? This is why I had said: The very next day did Hunt really hit home after two more names blew me over.
Look for your self at the names of the 4 key people, listed on the church news bulletin. (The first two names are in code, the other two are real names).
Look a N !
Me Won -Y- A N
The two Hunters were not related. I actually walked into church and without knowing sat beside N. Hunter. To understand why the fuss about Hunter, one has to go back and understand the story of a storm. It struck the Hunter region of New South Wales one year and 4 or 5 days from the day of writing.
How weird, friends! As I am writing this my wife just ended a conversation with her mother on the telephone. I heard them discussing the spelling of the Christian name Ian. This name is closely linked to the Hunter Valley story.
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I crossed the road at exactly 10 am. Only 10 seconds earlier I had taken the missing cat photo, which hung on the pole right across from the church.
The very first song was a hymn. It was my favourite tune, not co-incidence: When I survey the wondrous cross. Only the lyrics were different. I loved the rest of the songs too. There is so much power in those old hymns ... and the numbers!
I added the sum of the 4 hymns, the numbers were displayed at the front. They came to 154. (Yes, the sermon was heavy).
The sermon that morning was not by the regular Minister, but by the Vicar of Dibley, Mrs. or Ms. Williams. Of course the lady was not the one, from the UK TV Series. (I had only seen an episode the evening before). Mrs. Williams was of similar shape, maybe not quite as big as the TV star.
For those unfamiliar with this show, the Vicar of Dibley is a female, very overweight Priest, constantly making jokes and innuendos of a sexual nature, which I find out of place, coming from a clergyman, sorry clergywoman, or do they call them clergypersons?
Actually, it just came to me. If she were to preach a sermon on the Trinity, the Vicar of Dibley could make herself into an object lesson ... three-in-one!
Mrs. Williams actually did preach on the Trinity, it was Trinity Sunday. But there was another observation, too hard to ignore. I saw a link from the TV Vicar to the Vicar of Brunswick. Both were wearing pink anoraks, except the one on TV had a hood. The hilarious, dumb blond female, the co-star of the Vicar had also worn a pink anorak. (It was part of the story).
The BrunsVicar (just reducing space, I'm wick.ed again) was truly an all-rounder. She not only gave the sermon, but also the children's talk. It included an object lesson, using coloured liquids, which somehow didn't quiet change colour as expected.
Making a special point in her illustration, she asked the children: "If God has a colour, what would it be?" The children came up with yellow, red and blue (not pink I think?) but none of them suggested the first one that came to my mind, green.
Afterwards I made a point of walking to the front and gave Mrs. Williams my thoughts, why I reasoned God's colour is green: "Take a green traffic light. It means GO. You are 2/3 to God."
Hands of Friendship - Brunswick Baptist Church 18.05.08
503 Sydney Road, Brunswick, on Highway 31.
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Reflecting on the weekend, is it not presumptuous to claim I was guided by God's Spirit, to be at the right place at the right time? Would I not have written a chapter much the same style, if I had ended up in East Burwood instead of East Brunswick, or indeed, if I had stayed home and had some fun on the bicycle, wherever?
Walking by faith means to trust God, to commit your life to HIM every morning, all day, every hour and every minute of every day. The where you go is not as important to God as letting HIM take you along the journey. With HIM guiding, you shall never become lost, even when you think HE has lost the plot.
On a US TV program, early one morning recently, I saw the latest in robot technology. A robotic arm was wired to a monkey's brain and programmed. The monkey could cause the robotic arm to move, by simply thinking;
The scientists inserted a piece of marshmallow (I didn't know monkeys eat m ...all...) into the robotic arm. The monkey's wired brain desired the food, which allegedly moved the robot's arm to hand the animal the food. The challenge for the future, the TV program concluded, is to achieve the same result, without the monkey having to be wired to the robot. Sounds like ground breaking stuff.
God already had this technology from day one, and is still using it today. Some monkeys are easier moved than others. Humans are the hardest to guide, because no airwaves are happening between God and their brains. Either the recipient rejects them deliberately, or is tuned to the wrong sender.
God wants all to re-connect with HIS Spirit. A total restoration, the forgiveness of sin, is the first step. The sign outside the church earlier in the chapter tell us that God showed us what is good, was is acceptable in HIS sight. If you're not yet on this journey with HIM, start today by asking HIM to forgive your sin. Turn around and give IT a try.
Leaving the church in Brunswick I was hungry. Near where I had parked on Sydney Road was a supermarket. Normally I don't agree with Sunday shopping, but I bought some salami, milk and bread. Ordering the salami at the meat section I asked for 150 grams, knowing 100 may be too little, 200 bad for the waist.
Not remotely thinking about the date 18.5, otherwise I may have bought a tomato or five, a glance at the scales showed my salami weighed 158 grams. It suddenly hit me - History was repeating itself. What a mixture, salami, tomatoes and dates!
An hour later I was looking for a sheltered place in Bacchus Marsh to brew coffee and eat my lunch. I didn't find a suitable place, so I just parked on the kerbside, anywhere.
It wasn't really anywhere. Eating my salami sandwich I saw I had parked right outside a shop: Sound Healing Centre. Mr. Google tells me it's all about Crystal Therapy.
The closest I know to Crystal therapy is listening to some of the amazing stories in a church called Crystal Cathedral. They have regular guests, many whose lives have been radically changed after tuning into God's power, hour by hour.
My Suzuki and I arrived home reasonably early, before 9 PM.
"How was the trip?" my darling wife wanted to know"
"Well", it was raining a bit. What can you do in Melbourne on a rainy weekend...?"