Like many, we have been waterlogged this past week.
Watching the tides
Uh-oh, a river! We can’t go over it; we can’t go under it. We’ve got to go through it.
Or... wait until the tides subside.
My times are in your hands
What would I write next? Empty page. My head and heart nurse a resounding empty space.
It's hard to focus amid the torrential social tsunami launched on us in the past few years. The restrictions became so constricting, so inhumane that my conscience stands against panic-stricken dictates of government. Even though multiple doors close, including those of work, church and social groups. Decades-long-term friends have gone missing to "social distance.”
My writing and I were going nowhere.
Now listen you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city...Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow." (
Where to go? Here I am. Send me
A Telegram post jolted me out of my doldrums. “Wanted Christian lady to share-drive Brisbane to Canberra, leaving early tomorrow.”
And so I went on my first internet date.
A few texts, a five-minute phone call and I met my ride at 6am Wednesday. Her car was loaded with a tent, air mattresses, sleeping bags – all the gear I lacked. Strangers had provided cash for fuel and an esky of nutritious food. We were besties within the hour.
We arrived at Epic Camp Freedom gate to rousing cheers, waves and drumbeats. To join a cross section of Aussie society; families with babes and toddlers afoot; wiry grey-haired battlers with Northern Territory number plates; Nimbin hippies; once-were paramedics, nurses and teachers. The entry hall was a hub of first aid, counselling and prayer. Free massages and chiropractic treatments, with priority to the frontline workers. Outside a stall of donated clothes, toys and toiletries. Camp kitchens serve cooked meals.
All camping fees and food were supplied by donors.
"Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord my saviour.
All I have needed Thy hand has provided..." These words resonated in my mind all week.
As did "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)
Marching with a tide of humanity
Front line workers and diggers led the Saturday rally over the bridge to Parliament House.
An indigenous lady stranger asked me, “Would you film me, please? I need to preach here.” Laurel Pabai from Boigu Island in the Torres Strait had prayed for a woman or two to help her. The Lord sent me.
“We are one people of this nation, regardless of the colour of our skin,” she called, “We need to return to the Creator to heal our land.” Many agreed “Thank you!” and “Amen!”
Moses stood on a utility above a ROAD CLOSED sign. He waved high a tablet inscribed “Exodus: Let my people go.” Rousing resonance from the freedom fighters.
Outside Parliament House we sang When the Saints with a brass and percussion group. My only adverse symptom from four days’ super-spreader event was a hoarse voice from enthusiastic vocal improvisation.
The tide is turning
At last, there are signs that the the status quo may change for the better. That governments may heed the many voices who have peacefully protested for freedom. Many have been challenged that Christian voices spoke out, and prayed at rallies for peace.
RUTH BONETTI wrote about Brisbane floods in her recent book The Art Deco Mansion in St Lucia. She presents and mentors those Writing Life Stories and is intrigued that she was led to Canberra to eventually help Laurel share her memoir. Who knows where we may find a next writing project?
Ruth feels humbled to see the profuse harvest of faith writing since in 1991 a seed was planted in her heart and mind to form a support group for Christian authors–Omega Writers.
