34. That the world may know


On Sunday August 7th I awoke in the middle of the night. It was around 2.30 am when I briefly checked what talk was on the overnight talkback station. Just then I heard Dave, the radio host mentioned in the preceding chapter, tell his listeners that he would be the ‘Master of Ceremonies’ (MC) at a fundraiser. The event was to take place on Friday 13th, at 6.30 pm at the Hawthorndene Primary School.


Hawthorndene from memory was a long way south of the city of Adelaide. Still, something inside me registered the date and time and seemed to say –you’ll be there. Once again an ‘outside-the-square’ thought process started in my brain lying in bed that night.


As mentioned before, Dave was most skeptical towards Christianity. Could it be that Dave, or even a group around him, was testing the “waters’, so to speak, if perhaps my descriptions of recent incredible events where true? Was a group of either Christians and seekers praying and then arranging a challenge, testing if my reports were true facts? Would I hear the announcement and indeed, roll up on the night? I went back to sleep and never heard the fundraising event advertised again that week. 


Sadly, I did not have anyone to share such outlandish thinking with anyone, certainly not with my family. But if my way of thinking was wrong, what did I have to lose, if I took on the challenge? On Friday 13th I finished my last lesson at 5.30 pm in a far northern suburb. It would have been an excuse to not bother rushing the distance (about 45 km) to attend a fundraiser, where I would not know anyone. However, something inside me kept bringing up the matter. The distance to travel made me more determined to go. At church the previous Sunday the theme was: “Go the extra mile”. All stops were go.


To be sure I phoned the school’s administration to check if the fundraiser was still on at 6.30 pm? The female voice at the other end said yes, nothing else. I assumed it was held at the school. When I arrived at the Hawthorndene Primary School there were about ½ dozen cars in the car park. It was dark already. I found no life in the school, except a Karate class in the school hall. The main building was dimly lit and looked deserted.


I asked a lady, a parent of a Karate student. She did not know anything about a fundraising event. I walked around the double storey school building, trying doors, front and back, to no avail. If the venue was different to the school, the lady at the administration ought to have told me. I rang the radio station. But they did not know anything about their announcer Dave being MC for a fundraiser at Hawthorndene Primary School.


Then the doubts arouse. Thoughts of failure, or accusation about wasting time and money, the ever present thought that indeed I was really ill and needed treatment? This time we have stuffed up. After all it’s Friday the 13th? Perhaps I should be at the Liberal Party fundraiser instead? Such thoughts lingered in the background. That’s where they stayed. Not for one minute did I let such negative words dominate my mind. God wanted me at that place at that time for a reason. I just did not know it yet.


In June the year before I had attended a Seminar at a Christian Centre nearby. (It was the same evening where 8 people died in the plane crash in Christchurch, New Zealand). Did God want me to go there? I would have loved a long heart to heart talk with a theologian about things. But then, in all those months, which have now stretched into years, I still had not found a listening, non-judgmental ear. Ironically that day I had had an email from one of my best friends in Germany. He and my friends were worried about me. “I ought to go and seek help”.


No, God was all the help I needed. He did not want me at the Christian Centre that evening. As I looked through my street directory (perhaps I ought to try the Coromandel Valley Primary School?) I affirmed God’s love for me. How he guided me all the way to Los Angeles from Melbourne and back. No Lord, you don’t make mistakes. All things work together for good. If this was all about Dave (and other doubters) knowing that there is a God, it will be so.


There was more light around Coromandel Valley Primary School, but neither cars nor people anywhere. Where now Lord? I drove into the nearest shopping area I knew of, in the nearby suburb of Blackwood. If the school had done their homework, there would be a notice on one of the shop windows. I parked the car at the Coles New World Supermarket and searched their Community notice board. I looked in two more large supermarkets and in the shop windows on the way – nothing.


The restaurant, near the roundabout, was crowded for a winter’s evening. It looked inviting. For a moment I felt as if I was back to the time I was homeless in the US. I had walked aimlessly, uttering a similar prayer – Lord where to now? Why don’t you just go home and forget Friday the 13th? You could have finished a chapter in your biography tonight? I thought. It was so temping, so true!


Inside the church, opposite the restaurant, the lights were on. A large poster outside advertised an event. I crossed the road in the rain, which had started to fall. Did God lead me to this event, which may lead to another - something? I was always open to possibilities. But the church door was shut. The advertised event was not until days later.


I headed back toward my Suzuki, parked opposite Coles Supermarket. On the way I was still checking shop-windows for a notice of the fundraiser, which I had obviously missed by now. Out of the blue, so to speak, I read a red shop-front neon sign: “I’ve been framed”. It was a picture framing place. How funny! If the fundraising event was indeed invented and I came all this way to attend, the I have been framed. To not go home empty-handed I crossed the road. Coles carpark was right opposite. Lucky I had my camera in the car. So I took a photograph. 



                               The road sign in the background shows a

                               Roundabout. Turning right will bring

                               motorists to Marion, a place mentioned in a very

                               early 'supernatural' experience.

                               (More in number Chapter 23). 


Parked right outside “I’ve been framed” was a vehicle with interstate registration plates. I just caught it for a flash of a second. The number didn’t mean anything, but the frame of the registration plate, advertising the car dealership. It read: “Darryl Twitt Motors”. What a funny name? I bet there had been many jokes made about it. Then the thought occurred that perhaps this was the reason I came here? Was I indeed framed? Was I being tested to come here to again be able to say: “You have come to the right place?” 


The next morning I searched the internet for Darryl Twitt. It was a car dealership in Shepparton, in country Victoria. My creative, fun loving mind composed the following email to the radio-station, Dave works for. If I was totally off the planet in my thinking, I had lost nothing. Far from it, the readers would have a bit of a laugh at the twitt that went 45 kilometers to take a picture of a sign outside a picture-frame shop:

Hi all,

As one born on 30.1.50 I am an Aquarius, a waterman of a kind. Your Dave W. was supposedly MC at a funraiser at Hawthorndene Primary School last night. Did he expect any one to come, when he announced the event at about 2.30 am last Sunday Morning on air?

Out of the goodness of my generous, humble heart, I drove all the way to the announced event, after finishing work at Craigmore at 5.30 pm. I would have only been 10 minutes late. But as an expert in funraising, one that is naturally attracted to it, I could not find the venue.

There were Karate classes in progress, not my forte; so I had to make my own fun. It took a while to figure it out, but it did come.

Despite the rain I decided to take a walk at the nearby Backwood Shopping Centre. Perhaps there would be a notice on one of the Community Notice Boards? But nothing, not in Coles (where I had parked my car), nor Foodland or Woolies.

But I noticed a notice, if you excuse my bad writing, about a meeting "tonight". It was about the pedophilia problem we are having in SA, organized by Police, if I remember correctly. Then the silly notice said 10.1.08 *- the darn meeting was three days earlier. Not a word on the fun at the Primary School. (I had confirmed the event at 4 pm that afternoon, by phoning the school).

Silently, I prayed to God, if HE let me down this time, which He had never done before. NO, NO and NO again. I knew there was some fun somewhere. Then I saw it. A shop, a picture frame place with the name - I'VE BEEN FRAMED ! It was right across the road from where I had parked my vehicle. Oh, what fun. I walked to the car and, luckily, had my camera with me. I took a shot.

But there's more. I noticed a parked car right outside the framed place. It had an interstate rego number. I was not looking for any numbers (I've been cured, ha, ha). No it was the name of the car dealer-ship - Darryl Twitt Motors. I since found out they are in Shepparton, Victoria. That made sense. If it does to Dave W, I am not sure. Some people won't believe, if they saw a dead person raised to live again. 

Thanks for the fun last night, Dave. Except it was under a different MC.

Kind regards

Darryl Twitt Fischer
Driving Plus, Adelaide

PS   Blessed are those that don't MC, but still believe.    

 *(This date was a mistake - it should have been 10.8.04).  

Needless to say, the letters M and C in Roman numbers represent 1; C with two zeros and M with three. The notice about a meeting "tonight" in above email had me thinking. If one wanted a good turnout for a meeting, one would not put up a notice only on the same day? Since my campaign was about the truth in a pedophile case, I wondered if there was a faint connection? 

If above episode indeed was a test as to my ability to ‘arrive at the right place’,

I think there is nothing wrong doing this. It must be done, however, with a motive of honest doubt. God will show himself to people who earnestly seek him. Better still, believing in God without a sign, is even more pleasing to him.

In my youth I sat through hundreds of church meetings. There was occasionally a story, where a soldier in World War 2 had promised to God – if I get out of here alive and back to my family I will believe in you. It was so easy to promise in the heat of the battle, but so hard to keep in the comfort of home.

Believing in God is not enough. Faith must be tested with positive action. Faith in God means taking a risk, letting go of all safety nets and trusting God that HE will guide you and keep you as you launch into an adventure with him. It need not be supernatural, decoding clues around you. It may be as simple as praying for God to save your marriage or trusting him with problems at work.

As was the case on Friday August 13th 04, I didn’t know where HE was leading me. But I knew that HE was.

Blessed are those that do not see and yet believe.

Chapter 35