Going Against the Tide – by Ruth Bonetti

 Like many, we have been waterlogged this past week. 

Floods waters changed our plans. We’re not going anywhere – except by kayak or bicycle. We pray for others worse off. 

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." (James 4:13-15)

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.

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5 Reason Why I Write

In January 2011, South East Queensland was the scene of devastating floods.  A mother and her son drowned in floodwaters in Toowoomba, and a further 22 people met their end  in the Grantham area. There were horrific accounts of drowning deaths, and vivid descriptions of what survivors endured.  I was not personally affected by the flooding, and knew no-one who was, but the devastation and loss of life really  played on my mind and upset me.  I was shocked at what had occurred, and felt deeply for the many people who were so terribly affected by this unexpected disaster.  The morning of the flood, I had planned to go out with my children, but changed my mind when a friend rang, wanting to visit.  Had we ventured out, we were headed for the area that was severely and quickly  flooded. What if we had have been there when the wall of water hit? I thanked God for His protection, but the thought of what if…..made me sick to the stomach. The flood and it’s effects made me think of the enormity of loss and destruction that we often hear about overseas…..tsunamis, floods, earthquakes in which hundreds or even thousands of lives are lost.  The devastation is unimaginable.   Here I was,  struggling to come to terms with the loss of 24 lives in our area, whereas people in or near these overseas tragedies have so much more to contend with, in so many ways. What happened here made me more aware of the reality (to a small degree) that our overseas brothers and sisters have to live with. And that distressed me.

 I struggled for a few months with the effect that the flooding had on so many lives and communities.  Then I decided to write about it.  I penned a poem, trying to convey the devastation, horror, grief, heartache, sorrow, etc.  I could hardly believe that after expressing my thoughts and feelings through writing, the burden lifted.  I still felt for the victims, their families and friends,  but not with the same intensity.  I still empathized, but wasn’t distressed like I had been.  I hadn’t realised the strength of the cathartic effect of writing until that day.

 So, why write? For me, there are a number of reasons.

 One being the healing effect mentioned above. As I record my thoughts, feelings, heart, etc. my emotions are being released and expressed. And that is a necessary and healthy thing.

Another is to record what God is doing in my life.  I love to journal and enjoy being able to refer back to what I have written. I find this a great way to encourage myself in the Lord. It is a permanent testament to His goodness and faithfulness, and at times I need to remind myself of this.  

Writing also helps me to remember things. I am a visual person, not an auditory person.  While studying at  university, I made copious notes. This helped me to retain knowledge and information.  To this day, I take notes when I listen to a sermon, otherwise it literally goes in one ear and out the other. ( And, sadly, this is becoming more of a problem as I grow older…...)

I also write as an expression of my creativity.  If we have been gifted with creativity, we need to find outlets for this.  Mine come in varied form. As well as writing, I love to mosaic, and over the years have enjoyed patchwork, hand stitcheries, scrapbooking.  A feeling of great satisfaction accompanies these activities, especially upon their completion.

And last but certainly not least,  I write to glorify God.  My desire is to spread His message of love and hope, and to touch the hearts and lives of others for Him. The written word is a great vehicle by which we can spread the gospel.
I leave you with a question. Why do you write?

Janelle Moore lives in Toowoomba, Queensland with her husband and their two teenagers.  She enjoys writing devotions and short non-fiction works, often using her children and their antics as her inspiration.