7.  Give me a J.

As 2004 came to a close doubts and fears about God’s special calling on my life had dissipated. I saw HIM in many and various ways. God indeed was also opening the eyes and ears of those seeking to follow HIS ways. More and more I would notice and decipher facts or data around me, which I could link directly to what I had written on my website.

A classic example transpired around November 04. I started to notice an advertisement on bus stops that showed a carton of chocolate flavoured milk. The ad came with the caption – Drink it and look younger.  The subheading read “A classic example of false advertising”.  

The slogan of looking younger after drinking the product sounded like basic advertising jargon. How could drinking chocolate milk make anybody look younger? I sensed there was an underlying thought behind the ad and I traced it to a chapter (including a picture) I had written. The subtitle had me even more puzzled. I could see the pun on the word classic, but why false advertising? When I finally cracked the code, just before Christmas 04, I made a point of taking a photo when I next passed a bus stop, displaying the classic drink ad, which was displayed everywhere.

Who wants to just look younger, when you can be reborn?

After passing numerous Classic Chocolate ads it came one day – a meaning behind the ad, which made perfect sense – If you drink in the Word of God you will not only look younger, you will be born afresh. To just look or feel younger is an understatement and therefore a classic example of false advertising.

To totally embrace Jesus and to live his message of love and forgiveness is indeed not just a repair job, it is a totally new life, the person becomes ‘born again’ You have heard that phrase before – born again Christian. Many people look to God when they face problems. They are willing to turn to him for comfort in distress. But often, when the pain has eased or the difficulty has been resolved, they no longer see a need for HIM. That is, until the next  time trouble strikes.  

Jesus is not God’s repairman. Jesus is Saviour and Lord. To fully appreciate HIM you must fully appropriate HIM, wanting to drink HIM, eat HIM and breathe HIM all day, every day of your life. When walking with Jesus problems turn into adventures of faith, challenges to let God show you HIS mighty power working in you and through you. The word ‘worry’ becomes obsolete in a clean mind, filled with thoughts about the goodness and power of Jesus, not merely power that applies a Band-Aid, but power to rebirth the person and restore health to their life. 

As the saga surrounding my observations continued, there was an increasing flow of messages. I believed these to be from friendly, concerned readers pointing me in the direction of a return to the USA. I could understand their motive – concerns about my safety, if I stayed at the house, at the address I never could have kept secret.

My mind kept arguing, if I were to just take another flight to the US, would I not be fleeing, avoiding responsibility for what I had disclosed? Running away is not a Christian’s way of doing battle.

Let me describe some examples, where I thought I received the ‘Go LA message’. The first that comes to mind was a detour on Wright Road, Ingle Farm. This alone could mean that I was on the wrong road. In our UBD the location of the detour is on Map 95. As I turned I sensed it was arranged, put on just for me to pass through on my way home from the City on Friday morning January 14th, 2005.

Normally I would not go home via this road, but straight Main North Road. If it was true that this was arranged to me to detour, I must also be true that a listening device is somehow picking up conversation in our house. I had told my wife that I was picking up some potting mix, her mother wanted me to get. On a previous occasion I had wondered about a spy camera; the thought of a listen device was the next logical step. Considering what I had written it would not surprise me, if our house was legally under surveillance, again possibly for our own protection.

If indeed a listening device had been planted inside our house to pick up conversations, this would mean someone could be listening in every time my wife and I have sex together. What should I make of that? (If this is so and you are reading this, would you let me know, how I’m doing?).

After following the detour sign for a short distance, the street names had me wondering, if it’s all an act in the play. Only one side of Wright Road was blocked, the detour led into Nurrowin Drive (narrow win DR). In the name Yanego Rd. (second street the on left) I read, An ye go.

Warubi Rd. the next one further on, looked like Warren Rd. the first time I passed. I went back later and saw, it was Warubi, which sounds just as strong – War you bye. The only road on the right has all the letters I have been playing with – Antarlo Rd.

I either had invented a code, which was so versatile you could read any message into it, or somebody, who followed my story, worked full time mapping all this out. But wait - there are two more streets – Ramgo St. ram of course, representing the word sheep. The last street one on the left pointed very clearly to where I was either meant to go or had already been – ULAKA Rd = U LA OK, swapping one a to o.

My first photo of Classic Chocolate Milk (Mind - Chapter 39) I took less than a kilometer from this cluster of streets. At the time I had played a similar game of decoding street names. Please, let nobody think this was hard work and exhausting me. It just came to me, was clean fun and in a way kept me sane. But how serious should I take the actual message – go to LA? Another trip, escape or otherwise, may keep the ball rolling and move things along? But there was so much injustice still to be dealt with, I wanted to see it happening.

Had the ‘go’ message been in plain English I am not sure if I would have taken it more seriously. My guidance came from a different source. HIS messages were also wrapped in cloud, instead of plain English, but with HIS help I understood clearly.

Another typical message among many, which told me to return to LA, was printed in the HOME lift-out section of our Sunday Mail Newspaper on January 04, 05. The only reason we had the Sunday Mail in our house was that our son had brought it home, after arriving back from a short holiday. As a main feature an article showed a prominent politician, featuring her stylish townhouse. I knew her a little from Liberal Party functions.

Casually flicking through the paper, my attention quickly changed from the politician’s home to another lift-out within the lift-out. (As I write I am starting to think that it was placed that way, so I couldn’t miss it).  It was the travel section of the Sunday Mail called ‘Escape’. The title page showed a large picture of a little girl touching noses with the cartoon character Mickey Mouse, against the backdrop of the fairytale castle at the entrance to Disneyland, California.

The headline read simply – THE OC. My weird mind read THE OC (Orange County) as “He (on the) t, oh, see”, which set the scene for closer examination of ‘Escape’. In the article I learned that a hit TV Series in 04 was called OC. A photo of the cast, 4 men and 5 women, is shown on pages 4 and 5. I hadn’t heard of the TV series, otherwise I might have watched some, simply because of the title.

A surfer on page 4 is shown riding a wave on Huntington’s Beach, wearing a Philips label wetsuit. That name brings back memories of California April 03, when I was riding high, not on a beach, but on the ‘side of a river’. If the name Huntington would not have clicked, San Diego certainly did. The picture on the same page shows a Panda Bear with its cub. I would call it cute, but for the underlying serious message, both of Diego and Panda. (I emailed the editor, asking him to check a map; I thought San Diego was not in Orange County).

If I would not have gotten the ‘walk’ message at this point, amongst a list of Orange County attractions in ten words it says: ‘Legoland at Carlsbad and the Crystal Cathedral at Garden Grove.’ The final challenge, as I saw it, came at the back page of this Sunday Mail lift-out. The huge headline:

GET THE PICTURE   The Art of Wall Décor.  How and where you hang…

I had to smile to myself, because in 2004 on two occasions I had hung a picture on a wall. Both had come crashing down with a mighty thud, only hours later. The back page message goes on…

…or place your pictures and prints can make of break your home’s ambience –P13.

I turned to page 13 and read another headline: Wall décor – think ‘outside the square’. It showed two pictures, one that takes up a large part of the page. It only consists of a single, white leaf in a frame made of bamboo sticks. The other picture is much smaller, white background with a wide, black frame. A small, black and white photo shows the clock tower they call Big Ben. In large letters beside it reads: London.

The photo of the leaf immediately brought a picture to my mind and the word – leaves, together with an incident, which possibly had been another hint at leaving. A few days before Christmas I found someone had left a small gift-wrapped box inside our letterbox. It was from somebody we knew hardly at all, at least not well enough to exchange Christmas presents or cards. I only opened it a few days later and discovered inside – 200g Ashley’s Mint Leaves. It was the word ‘leaves’ and ‘ash’ that made me think: Is this a sign from a friendly source to advise me of leaving or … I figured that a large church organisation was behind this move.

My ‘outside the square’ thinking was a trait that made me different. It had caused many conflicts within and without, yet I believed it also did much good to somebody, somewhere. If the only outcome of my writing was that readers were inspired to earnestly think about God, if as a result they were actively pursuing HIM, I considered my mission a success. An honest seeker of God will find HIM, the only true God.

The starting point may involve some outside the square thinking with brave actions to follow. One consequence may include the realization that rituals, candles and ceremonies may add to a spiritual atmosphere, but are no substitute for a clean, searching heart. God looks at the inward man, the motive, the intention of the heart deep within.  

After reading articles, such as the above on Orange County, I started to wonder, why newspaper editors or those behind the road works etc., or even my closest friends talked to me on a coded, mysterious level, instead of plain English? Why go to such great length to tell me, I would be better off leaving, when a phone call or letter in plain English would assure them I got the right message. Had I driven a different route to Wright Rd. that Friday morning or change my mind to visit the K-Mart, all the road codes would have been for nothing.

My conclusion was that people were using the same methods, which God used in speaking to us - mysterious, hard to interpret. Any human with a deep desire to hear God’s guidance, encouragement or a declaration of HIS love, must listen carefully and prayerfully, with an ‘outside the square faith’. 

But there may be another reason: Many were still unsure if I was genuine. To commit themselves openly and take sides with me, would involve a certain amount of risk. After all I am a ‘friend’ of the worst pedophile in South Australia. Judging by my strange behaviour and writing, I could be a lunatic. What if I suddenly crashed and again landed in a mental hospital? Who wants to be associated with a sick mind in an institution?  

The guarded approach to communicate with me could stem from an even greater fear. If I was to be singled out and retaliated against for speaking out, those who supported my mission openly could become targets as well. Hopefully in civilized countries, like Australia or the USA, open persecution will not happen. But I have experienced that thinking independently, and speaking out, when I saw wrongs, could make you the target for persecution on a level you may not realize.

There are still countries around the globe, e.g. Indonesia, Vietnam, Nigeria, Sudan, China, Iran, Iraq and Egypt, just to name a few, where being Christian makes you unpopular or worse. Many live in fear of violence and torture. We in the West persecute also, but much more subtle. In the West they don’t kill our body, but our character. 

At the beginning of 2005, following the disastrous earthquake and tsunami, I was overwhelmed, as was everyone else, by the horror event that shook the world, literally. Yet, never before had I heard so much talk about spirituality and God, as in the first few days of 2005. Not even September 11, 01 in New York had such a great response and impact. One commentator on TV interviewed a clergyman and asked him straight out: “Is this an act of nature or an act of God, or a judgment of God?”

Readers, who have followed my thinking, will know my views. “If God knows how many hairs we have on our head or when a sparrow falls to the ground, how could he not care when 150 000 die by gigantic waves, caused by an earthquake, measuring 9.0 on the Richter scale. One movement in God’s little finger could have avoided the New York tragedy, but he chose not to. One of HIS hands lifted toward the tsunami in the Indian Ocean, and the raging waters would have stopped in its tracks. God let it happen.

Those who speak German will know, the word ‘Richter” in German means ‘judge” (The book of Judges in the bible is called “Richter” in the German bible).  If this Tsunami disaster in South East Asia didn’t make you sit up and think how helpless we humans are – what would? If witnessing such a catastrophe, close range or from afar, does not stop you from lying, cheating, killing and cause you to turn to God, what would? 

Most religions in the world believe in a power beyond our planet earth. The awesome force on December 26th 2004 unleashed a power beyond our human comprehension. Isn’t it time everyone asked that being – Who are you to wield such power? Can you communicate with us? Is there anything we could have done to be spared?

It is hard to comprehend, why a loving God would allow this to happen. But if it turns people away from doing evil and towards the Almighty, All-powerful God, in the long term much good will come out of it. Early, positive signs are already emerging, e.g. enemies working side by side, helping in restoration, rich countries giving aid and forgiving (or suspending) the debt of poorer nations. 

A week before Christmas 04 I noticed an article in “The Australian” Newspaper. The timing of the report, as well as its godless content, annoyed me to the point of becoming angry with the writer. Some bureaucrat in the Education Department in New South Wales suggested dropping religious studies for young children from the school curriculum.

What empty brain came up with this bad suggestion at the worst possible time of the year? What brainless journalist went ahead and printed the story? Just at the time when children ought to learn about the birth of a man, who should be their idol, some academic thinks he, or more likely she, has the answer to our children’s needs. (Most school teachers in Western countries are still woman, hence ‘more likely she’).

I wrote the following letter to the editor of “The Weekend Australian” (via email):  

Hi all,

How badly timed is the call by the NSW Board of Studies to drop compulsory religious studies from the syllabus from Kindergarten through years 6 (The Weekend Australian Dec. 18, P.3)? It comes just as billions around the world are celebrating the coming of a man, who showed us what love really means. His way is the only path to peace, happiness and success.

I agree with dropping the study of compulsory religion, the kind that teaches unreasonable rules, useless regulations plus pomp and ceremony, to appease an ever-angry God.

What our children need is the liberating truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and a Heavenly Father who loves us all. Teaching life principles, such as not insisting on one’s rights, allowing for others to make mistakes and forgiving them, should be compulsory from Kindergarten age.

I am glad that I learned from an early age that Christmas, not cricket, gives life a hope for the future.

Kind regards

Dieter R. Fischer

On Christmas Eve I was in the middle of washing dishes, which I did quite often. My son Tim and I got into a heated discussion. I can’t recall how it had started; all I remember challenging him (and my wife, who was also present) to allow me to be the person God wanted me to be. He wanted to know, who I think that might be. I said that I had written 132 Chapters in my biography, which can’t be explained in a few sentences.

Without knowing and believing what I had experienced the previous 6 years, it was impossible to pass judgement on my life. “Why don’t you read it for yourself to get the answer,” I asked, “before you accuse me of writing a lot of rubbish?”

As we were throwing around arguments back and forth, as always without any conclusion, I came to the end of washing the dishes. One of the last items was the colander we had used the night before to rinse off spaghetti. Suddenly, out of the blue came an experience that some will regard as my madness. It takes an outside-the-square-liberated mind to see God in it. I found myself holding in my hand a hardened strand of spaghetti, the size of a finger and shaped like the letter J. Nothing else was left in the colander, only this single piece of leftover spaghetti from the night before. 

This really perplexed me for a moment. Then I remembered how I had written about the J in Jesus on my website, how two J’s made up my logo, how it all fitted into a perfect picture. Tim had walked away in the meantime.

Finding the letter J, in the form of spaghetti on its own, would not have excited me the way it did. It was the timing of the find – just as I was in the middle of a hefty debate with my 21-year–old son on the subject - who was I.  I believe, with all my heart, God was telling me right there and then, in this unusual way – I love you and I believe in you, if no one else does.  


Back page of my diary: Is that God or an illness?

It's God, it must be HIM !


“Let me show you something, Tim”, I asked a few moments after the impact hit me. “Look what a co-incidence, just as we were talking …”

He didn’t want to see it. He thought I was childish to even notice, followed by a lecture to grow, to stop acting silly and to concentrate on providing for my family. In those moments, of which there were many, I felt the fool I was painted to be. But self-doubt and fear, which once were threatening to snuff out the small flame inside, was no match for the fire and passion that was burning in my heart.

To get over my disappointment within the family I put myself into their shoes. How would I have reacted in the same situation? Would I agree with somebody, claiming God was speaking to him or her through a J-shaped noodle, picked up while doing the dishes? Had such a situation ever happened before to anyone? No, I couldn’t blame even those close to me for doubting. It was easier to reflect back on God and picture him having a good laugh from a distance. God loves fun. 

To me it all made perfect sense: Our God is not only joyful; he is all-powerful, able to literally shake the foundations of the earth. Yet HE can be so unsophisticated, HE tells an individual person on earth that HE loves him – with the simple discovery of a piece of dried spaghetti, shaped in the letter J. 

Chapter 8